John Ringo - There Will Be Dragons

And through it all, the arguments continued to rage.

He had pointedly tuned out the current argument, which was specifically about minimal farming needs, and was looking out the window when he saw Tom’s horse, first, then recognized who was slumped in the saddle. At that point he rapped the hilt of his poignard on the table.

“This meeting is adjourned until tomorrow,” he said, standing up.

“Why? That’s rather high-handed, isn’t it? We’re not even close to done!” Deshurt snapped.

“You can keep arguing if you want, but you’re going to do it somewhere else,” Edmund said, walking to the door. “Now.”

“Oh, my God!” Myron said, standing up so fast his chair went over backwards. He had looked out the window as well.

“Out,” Edmund growled. “Now.”

“I’ll be back with Bethan,” Myron said, heading for the door. “Come on . It’s Daneh and Rachel. Give the man some peace will you?”

“Oh, if that’s why… Edmund, we can meet tomorrow…”

Talbot just nodded his head as the group filed out the door, then strode quickly to the mounting rail.

“Daneh,” he said, taking in the sight of her. He had already noticed that she was wearing a borrowed cloak, unlike her daughter. Now, as he got closer, he took in the look in her eye and the yellowing bruise on her cheek.

“Edmund,” she sighed and slid off the horse. As he reached for her she flinched and then held out her hand. “I’m glad to be here.”

“I’m glad you’ve come,” he said quietly, standing away from her. “Rachel,” he added, nodding at his daughter.

“Father,” she replied. “Nice to see you, too. Finally.”

“Come into the house,” he said, nodding at the implied rebuke. “I’ll have… I’ll get a bath drawn and some food on the table.” He turned to Myron’s son and stuck out his hand. “Tom… thank you.”

“Any time, Edmund,” he said then shrugged. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t find them… sooner.”

Edmund’s jaw worked and he nodded in reply, following Daneh and Rachel into the house.

“Tom,” Myron called as his son trotted into the farm-yard. “Daneh looked…”

“I’ll let Edmund or her tell you about it,” Tom said, sliding off the horse and shaking his head angrily. “It’s about what you’d expect I reckon.”

“Damn,” Myron said with an angry hiss.

“You know Dionys McCanoc?”

“That I do,” Myron nodded. “And I’d guess he’s not long for this world.”

Edmund had the luxury of drawing hot water off of the forge, and fixing a bath for Daneh had been simple enough. She had withdrawn with a small vase of wine and some old clothes after which Edmund returned to the kitchen to face the wrath of his daughter.

“She was raped,” Rachel said, looking up from a plate of cold roast pork. As the warmth and light of the room sunk in, she was beginning to realize she was safe. Deep inside she had feared through the whole journey that Dionys would reappear. But now, in her father’s house, she knew she was protected. Which, for some reason, was just making her angrier.

“So I gathered,” Edmund replied sitting down across from her.

“No thanks to you, Father . Where were you?!”

“Here,” he answered bluntly. “Right here. Trying to create something for you to come home to.”

“Nice excuse.”

Edmund sighed and took a sip of wine. “It is not exactly an excuse. It is a reason. When I was asked to do the job, I recognized that one of the concomitant realities was that I could not go looking for you and your mother. I knew that you had both been home at the Fall and I knew that you were both resourceful. I recognized that you had a higher chance of something… I almost said ‘untoward’ but the real word is ‘bad,’ something bad happening to you and your mother. I chose to accept the larger responsibility.”

“Well that larger responsibility got my mother raped, Father,” the girl hissed. “You’ll forgive me if I’m just a little pissed about that.”

“Probably about as much as I am,” Edmund answered. “But I will not second guess the choice. It is the one I made. I’ll live with it for the rest of my life. As will you. And your mother.” He noted that she looked down and he nodded. “And what choice is it that you wonder about, Rachel?”

“I…” The girl sagged and swallowed hard against a bit of pork. “We’d split up to forage. She went south, I went north. If only I’d…”

“Rachel, look at me,” Edmund said and waited until she did. “If there is a God, I will thank Him for the rest of my life, and so will your mother, for that choice. Your mother is much older and wiser than you, and probably stronger as well, although you have great strength in you. But if I was forced to choose who to send into something like that, I would have chosen Daneh over you for all that I love her. And so would she. Know that.”

“I do,” Rachel said in almost a wail as she dropped her face in her hands. “But…”

“Survivor guilt is a very false form of guilt,” Edmund said. “We cannot undo the choices that we make in our life. And so many times, who survives or who is not wounded comes down to simple chance. Regretting that you were not raped is silly. And regretting the fact that somewhere in you you are glad it was not you is sillier.”

“I never said that!” Rachel snapped.

“No, but you have thought it and you regret the thought,” Edmund replied, firmly. “I’m old, girl. I’m so old it’s hard for you to understand. And I know what it is to survive when others do not. And I know the evil thoughts that creep in. Face them, show them the light of reason. At first it will not help, but over time it will . If you won’t do that for me, do that for your mother. She is going to have her own thoughts that creep in unbidden. Small, petty, maddening thoughts. Yours will be easier in some ways and harder in others. And you will need to talk about it. But you need to have them under some control. For her and for the, yes, the ‘larger’ picture. We have done much here but there is much work yet to be done and you are going to be part of that doing. If you start it out in bitterness and hatred for those you love, and for yourself, the work will never be the best. And it deserves your best.”

“How can you be so cold about this!” Rachel shouted. “Don’t you have a gram of feeling in you?”

“Yes,” Edmund said after a moment. “But I don’t show it in the way that you think I should. You’ll just have to decide for yourself. On the other subject, were the men involved just random passersby or are they likely to be more of a problem.”

“Oh, I think they’re likely to be more of a problem,” Rachel said, lightly. “The leader was Dionys McCanoc.”

For the first time in her life, Rachel started to understand why people treated her father with respect. For just a moment, something flashed across his face. It was an expression beyond anger, something odd and implacable and deeply terrifying to watch. And then it vanished except for a jumping muscle in his jaw and he was the same, plain, wooden-faced creature she had known her whole life.

“That is… interesting,” Edmund said with a sniff. “I’ll put the word out, wanted for banditry and rape.”

“That’s it ?” she asked. “Just ‘put the word out’?”

“For now,” her father said coldly. “For now. People like McCanoc tend to end up killing themselves. If he doesn’t do it for me, I’ll find the time. But for now, I have other things to do. Just as you do. You need to rest up.”