If not you--I will find someone else!

“Felicity, I said no! Swordplay is not a virtue of proper women.”

“I am no longer a proper woman, that descriptor stolen from me the summer last.”

“But Fee-Fee, you will not find a new husband on the battlefield, men of property will not want a wife they're equal in the arts of war. Please, you must forget this quest of vengeance; move on with your life.”

Felicity turned her back to her father and walked to the rack near the courtyard gate. She stood staring at the various weapons and shields.

“Yes, like you have--tell me father, are the whores you now bed each night your attempts to forget my mother, your wife.”

“I am your Father! And you will keep a civil tongue in your mouth. Your mother is gone, and I no longer bound by vows of marriage. With whom and how I spend my time is not yours to judge. Rethink your desires, as I will not have a daughter of mine whispered a Dyker.”

Felicity picked up a practice sword and pulled it from its leather sheath. She held it out testing its weight.

“Oh, that is rich. You would claim the honor in the name of our house, while each night, you drink yourself stupid and make it your mission to sleep with every woman who will spread her legs for you. Father--my husband, is dead as well. And yes, I grieve for him, as I do for my mother. I grieve for many things. However, I think I can resist taking up the life of a Dykenweir. I have no desire to kill all men and consume their flesh for my sustenance.”

“Then why Felicity, why must you take up arms?”

“Father, I do not seek this for the same reasons as you. I do not search for the trolls that took my mother from us. I do not seek vengeance for my lost daughter. No, for me, it is but a matter of life or death. Never again will I submit to the degradation of that day. Never will I be without a means to defend or kill myself. Do you think you are the only one to dread sleep for the torment of its nightmares?”

“No, Felicity, I understand your pain, but taking up a place on the fields of battle is not the answer. Finding a new husband, giving birth to a new child, running a proper household, these are the things you should do to quail the blackened dreams.”

Felicity picked up a shield, sliding her left arm into its straps. She moved the wooden disk from the side, to in front of her, testing its balance and cover. She turned to face her father, her brow furrowed, her eyes bore into him as her lips tightened into a thin line.

“And what should I do the next time they come, our enemies? Would you have me once more beaten and raped for hours on end? Tortured repeatedly until I am unconscious, and then brought to, once more, to start it all over again? You would have me wake the next morning, once more dangling from a tree limb to the sight of my dead child laying in blood and afterbirth below my feet. While it is true, I shan’t be forced to listen helplessly to the screams and cries of my mother as they torture her beside me. But then, her pleas--her cries of pain, never leave my ears.”

The chin of Derrick Andrieus lowered to touch his chest, as the tears ran down his cheeks. She is right, the images of that morning will not leave my head, it would have been more merciful had I taken our lives that day, that morning after.

Felicity moved to her father and placed her hand on his face. “Oh father, don’t you see, we are both broken, damaged beyond repair, what was taken from us cannot be replaced. You throw yourself into every vice in hopes that it will bring you relief from your pain, relief from this life to which we are damned to exist. I have chosen something different. I am going to Windsong, to the Cathedral of Light, and there I will dedicate what life I have left to their service as a Paladin. But to do so, I must learn to use this sword.”

“Felicity once you do this, No man will ever have you, you are branded for life.”

“Father, do not worry about their scorn. I fear neither their opinion nor the loss of their love. I shall lament not over either. It is I, who shall never again take a man to my bed. You see, on that day, back then, in the ashes of what was once our home, and former life. I experienced more than I shall ever need of men. No, father--no, man will ever touch me again, not, and both of us live. If you do not teach me, then I will find someone else.”

Derrick locked eyes with his daughter, Oh Jenny, forgive me for not being there, and forgive me for what I must do for our daughter. He stepped beside Felicity inspecting her sword belt and then her shield straps.

“You wear the belt too high on your hips, your arms are to short for the sword tip to clear the sheath with it there.” He loosened the belt and adjusted it, so the weapon rode lower at her side. “If you use a longer blade then you must learn to wear it on your back and draw it over your shoulder. We’ll start with this bastard sword, and then daggers, ax, and polearm. On the morrow, we will visit the blacksmith to order armor that fits.”

For the first time in sixteen months, Felicity’s face held an expression other than grief. Derrick stepped back a few paces from his daughter, took up his shield, and he drew his sword.

“Until then we will work with what there is in the practice racks. On guard daughter, defend yourself, and know that I grant you no quarter as you will find none from your enemies.”