“Apparently.”
“He loves you a lot, you should know that. I know he doesn’t make big dramatic statements about his love for you, but he does love you. He’s been your boyfriend since forever. And I think if you wanted to have a nice normal life with a husband and kids and someone who’s your friend, you’d be a fool to ignore thathe’s right now moving into your back-shack so he can stay close enough to protect you.”
“Yeah. When you put it that way, it does seem crazy. But also, remember, before Torin arrived, I was already thinking about leaving him. This is true. I already believed we weren’t working, my reasons were valid, and just because he’s now jealous of Torin, and I will remind you, we didn’t actually do anything, but just because ofthat,Coop’s going to start being more attentive and romantic?”
“Yeah, he should have had his act together long ago. You’re right, but still, think about what he offers: stability. If you spend the weekend with him you won’t have to go to the hospital in an ambulance for a sickness that could have been solved with over-the-counter drugs.”
I said, “He does love hiking, thatcouldkill me.”
“Ugh, men and their dumb hobbies.” Then she sarcastically asked, “Poor Lexi, you gotta choose between hikes or kidnappings, sword fights, and murders,whateverwill you choose?”
“Very funny. When you put it that way… but also, have you seen his knees?”
“I have. I get it. Do you think he might come back today? He’s been back every day before this, but the day is almost gone, right?”
“I don’t know, but I miss him. I wish he were here, and I wish I knew if he’s okay. He will also make this all very complicated.”
She asked, “So what does ‘molanan’ mean?”
I sighed and put my head back. “It doesn’t matter.”
She clapped her hand down on my leg. “Well, I need to go figure out what to serve you for dinner, whatcha want?”
“Not sure, can it be more cookies?”
She grinned. “How about soup and cookies?”
“Perfect.”
30
TORIN
1558 - MEETING MAX AT MUCKHART MID-MAY
Iwas lyin’ face down in mud, in the darkness just before dawn, rain pourin’ down, a torrential downpour that looked as if it had been goin’ for days. I was takin’ stock if I had survived — the rain too loud tae hear much beyond.
But then I heard rustlin’. I was sure of it. I listened hard: someone was goin’ through m’horse’s bags. I slowly moved my hand tae my sword hilt and prepared tae spring up, though I wasna ready tae stand.
Och nae, I would need tae be up and fightin’. I had tae get up. I must up.
Yet I dinna want tae, I wanted tae lie here in the mud wallowin’ in m’misery.
I counted, one, two, and jumped tae m’feet, splashing all around as I pulled m’sword. Seeing first a scoundrel diggin’ through m’belongings, a man behind me yelled, “Dead man up!” I leapt forward, mud sprayin’, shovin’ the thief away, and began swingin’.
I was fightin’ three men afore I had killed one, with a spray of blood across m’face, running in pink rivulets down m’chest. A second died gurglin’ in the mud and I kicked him from mysword. A third and fourth raced away. I collapsed back ontae m’arse in a puddle, my back tae a boulder and facin’ the trees tae catch m’breath for a few moments.
I was wet through, sore as if I had been beaten a dozen times over, yet I held the reins of two new horses heavy with packs. I stroked Lambo’s mane. “Och, lad, we hae been under siege. Feels like days we’ve been fightin’.”
He snorted and shook his head, showering me in rain. “Aye, I ken, ye are tellin’ me tae quit complainin’.”
I was wet through, like Mistress Minsdrie’s washin’ after a summer feast. I cupped my hand, let it brim with rain, and drank deep. Och, I was parched — I hadna thought tae fill m’horn after deliverin’ Mistress Lexi tae her home.
I explained tae the horses the point of the story about Mistress Minsdrie: “On feast days she drinks herself blind, and the next morn her washin’ lies forgotten in a reekin’ bucket. When m’tunics hae had the misfortune of steepin’ in it, they carry a stench for days.”
I sniffed under m’arm and grimaced. “Och, I smell near the same now — but the rain will wash the blood and muck of this murderous rampage away. And though we hae been beaten soundly, though the weather is shite, still we keep winnin’. I hae gained two new horses.”
I lumbered tae m’feet, keepin’ one eye on the dark line of forest. Packs were lyin’ in puddles, so I heaved them up and slung them over the back of the third horse. Then I rifled through the sodden clothes and sporrans of the two dead men, takin’ their weapons and valuables, stuffin’ it all intae the saddlebags as quick as I could.
