The Plight of Lavash


Vote by April 14, 2014

Episode 1

The woman in her late teens breathed in the clean air and enjoyed the feeling of the wind across her brow as it tousled her light brown hair. Sitting cross-legged on the grass, she had no clue about the man who had been watching her for the last hour or so.

From his vantage point about twenty yards from the young woman, his piercing grey eyes took in each detail of her position and how she held her body as he lay concealed in a thick patch of scrub. A gust of the warm summer breeze brought a tantalizingly brief nose-full of her scent which contained hints of lavender and other flowers. Powerfully built, muscular and athletic with light brown hair, this man could be fast and deadly in spite of his being at least twice the age of the woman he stalked. His irises shrank down to pinpoints as he watched the young woman tie her shoulder length hair back into a ponytail with a thin piece of leather.

Creeping forward like a lizard seeking sunlight, the man dragged his body from the thicket without a sound and stood to make his final approach toward the unsuspecting girl. Making sure the wind carried his scent away from her and that she could not see his shadow, his intense grey eyes scanned the destination of each footstep before he placed his foot down.

“You’re getting old, Father,” The girl said, “I could hear you at least five paces back. The grass is too dry.” She leaped to her feet and spun to face him, looking up into the grey eyes which were lined, now, from his years of teaching in the open.

“You ought to give us both more credit, Neevis,” Gremlaw told his daughter, “You caught me out because you’re getting better, not because I’m old.” Gremlaw bent forward at the waist, groaning as the vertebrae in his spine crackled. He stood up and grinned, “Even though I am ancient.” He winked. Neevis dropped her head to one side and rested her hand on her hip.

“Didn’t mother tell you not to keep creeping up on me like this?” Gremlaw pulled a bright red apple from inside his shirt and twisted it in half, offering half to his daughter,

“She did, yes,” he told her taking a huge bite, “But your mother couldn’t catch me when we were young, she doesn’t stand a chance now.” Neevis shook her head but smiled,

“I don’t recognize this from the Academy,” she referred to the apple while eating some, “Where did you get it?” Gremlaw fixed his daughter with a look as if she had asked him to chew off his own arm, “I stole it Neevis, where else?” The young woman shook her head again.

“Father!” She said in a disappointed tone.

“Neevis!” Gremlaw retorted in the same tone. He jammed the remainder of the half apple into his mouth and ditched the core, chewed and swallowed. “Going home?” He asked, nodding to the academy. Neevis nodded. Gremlaw shoved his daughter’s shoulder, knocking her off balance, “Race you!” He shouted as he sprinted away.

“Cheat!” Neevis called, laughing.

“I’m ancient, remember?” He called, “I need an unfair advantage!”

Gremlaw reached his home a few steps before his daughter, a few people living in the academy cheering as they saw the pair coming. Gremlaw doubled over, bracing his hands on his thighs as he panted. Neevis was breathing hard but not as hard as Gremlaw. A thin woman with long, blonde hair came out to greet the pair,

“Have you been annoying our daughter again, Grem?” The woman asked. Gremlaw nodded, still out of breath. “You have a letter,” Huleta told her husband, “Delivered by a most disheveled looking horseman.” Huleta raised her eyebrows. Gremlaw stood, instantly aware.

“Let’s go have a look, then, love.” He said, darting in and planting a kiss on her lips.

Gremlaw broke the wax seal on the folded parchment and furrowed his brows as he read.

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