No Apologies Necessary

Kalena grinned at having given the man such a terrific start. She was pleased to know that she still had it in her—the ability to sneak up on a seasoned warrior such as this mercenary captain clearly seemed to be, and take him completely unawares.

“I was just going to check on you,” Kline said, sheathing his sword that had so quickly flashed into his hand. “We are headed to the capital, in the morning, we should be there soon after breakfast.” He ran a hand through the thick mane of hair on his head. “Look, I did not mean to sound rude back there. Just, that…” He seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “Good luck has not been coming around a lot, so, just waiting for the other boot to fall, if you understand my meaning.” He looked at her hopefully. “You are alright, Miss Kalena, and I am sorry if I said something or implied you were less than honest and truthful.” He did pause though. “You have to admit, you’re fighting style is one… well, not usually seen. I can say I have never seen it used.”

He could see a flash of Kalena's smile in the moonlight before she hopped down from the wagon, landing lightly on her feet next to him. "I am what some people call an Outlander," she told him, with a gentle tone of understanding. "I'm not originally a native to Dalen, and some of my knowledge and training may therefore seem a little unusual. Due to Her Majesty the Queen's policies, the kingdom of late has become home to many different people of many different races and traditions. I assure you, no apologies are necessary. I was not bothered by your tone, only for the fact that we seemed to have a possible misunderstanding. As far as your bad run of luck recently, I would like to think that meeting me is a clear sign from the gods that it's about to turn around. Since you're going to the capital, I'd very much like to invite you all to be guests at my home. In fact, I insist on it. There is something there that I would like to show you," she said with deliberate mystery, and a touch of teasing promise.

Kalena beamed at the thought of the gift that she would have the pleasure of giving him. She had so many horses and enjoyed finding good homes for them, and since she heard mention that Kline had lost his mount during the bandit attack she knew he was in pressing need of a replacement. She already had a fine one in mind too, a riding stallion that was close to eighteen hands high; too tall for her or most people, but absolutely perfect for a man of Kline's stature.