“She seems the sort. Brave girl, likely more than is good for her,” he added sympathetically. “You can take her home now if you’re up to carrying her, or wait a bit for her to wake up.”
“She’s not so heavy,” said Jan, rising from the long bench that rested along one wall.
“No.” Zelen dithered briefly between concern and respect for privacy, then came down on the side of the former. “She mentioned that a friend of hers was giving you all a bad time of it.”
“Jaron. Mmm.” Tanya’s father sighed. “No trace of him. He’d reached the age to argue with his mother a bit, so hecould’verun off, but…”
There was no need to finish. Heliodar had no shortage of abandoned buildings and old wells, nor of predators. Being forcibly taken aboard a merchant ship or a fishing boat as a dogsbody was the most pleasant possibility.
“Would another set or three of eyes help?” he asked. “I’ve a bit of time on my hands.”
“Might,” Jan said, slow and cautious. “And I’m sure the lad’s parents would thank you for it. As would I. Best tomorrow, though, when there’s light enough. You know where we’re at?”
“Tanya mentioned.”
“Then thank you twice, sir,” Jan said. Reaching into the battered pouch on his belt, he produced a small cloth sack of coins, likely copper swordfish, the smallest and most common currency. Zelen didn’t try to give it back but didn’t examine it either. If the payment covered the ingredients that went into Tanya’s cast, he’d feel fortunate. If not, it wouldn’t be the first such episode.
“Fair night to you,” said Zelen, and opened the outer door.
Five youths of various ages and degrees of grime were gathered there, watching in wide-eyed suspense. They weren’t watching him or the door any longer, though, whatever they might have been doing when Altien had spoken to them. A shining black carriage across the street, harnessed to a pair of immaculately groomed gray horses, had commanded all their attention.
Zelen knew the driver’s russet-and-gold livery. He knew the coat of arms on the door. If he hadn’t recognized those, he would have known the three men who emerged, and particularly the figure in the center: tall, slim, dressed in unornamented black and gray clothes that cost a month’s wages in this part of the city. His hair was platinum blond, but his face was otherwise very similar to Zelen’s own.
The children didn’t miss the resemblance. They stared at Gedomir and the guards, then back to Zelen. The coach and the liveried, armed men were clearly the more fascinating picture, but the knowledge that one of the clinic healers had a relative his age, likely a brother, and a rich brother at that, was clearly striking a few of the older ones as interesting.
“Gedomir,” said Zelen. “I hadn’t known you were coming to the city.”
It took all of his self-control to keep from swearing.
* * *
It seems you played a few cards right, a familiar mental voice said as the butler opened the door to Branwyn’s room.I can’t enjoy a room like this as I once did, but it’s a much finer view than the inn.
Yathana was lying across the foot of Branwyn’s bed, three feet of straight, razor-edged steel in a scabbard covered with midnight-blue silk, with thin golden chains connecting small amethysts and garnets. Her hilt appeared gold too—a thin layer of gilt did wonders—and the eye-sized fire opal in the center of her guard was now flanked by two chunks of amber on the quillons and another on the pommel.
Seventeen years of partnership had given Yathana’s normal form time to sink very deeply into Branwyn’s consciousness, and even after two months of practice, the additions stood out whenever she had occasion to examine the soulsword. Adapting to the shifts in balance had come more easily, praise the Four.
“It looks wonderful,” she said to the butler, though she really hadn’t even noticed the room save for marking a window opposite the door—real glass, not shuttered, and framed by heavy rose-pink curtains. “Thank you.”
“The maids will have put your clothing away”—he gestured to a tall oak chest in the corner—“and there’s a rune by the window. Trace it, should you need anything.”
“Thank you,” Branwyn said again, and hesitated, not certain if she needed to give him a more formal sort of dismissal. While she was considering the matter, he bowed and left her.
You aren’t doing too badly, said Yathana, as usual speaking with a crispness that suggested autumn leaves underfoot.He thinks you’re a country bumpkin, of course, but then, they all will.
“I noticed,” muttered Branwyn. “Though I’d have thought carrying you around—”
You could be a rich hayseed. Many are. And we’re not being observed. The maids did search your clothing, but no more than I’d have expected.
“I suppose I’d do the same, in their place.”
I’d bloody well hope so.
Branwyn sat down on the bed, which was covered in a snowdrift of white cloth, surrounded by thick red curtains, and big enough for a small scouting party, if not a full army. A small crystal orb on a low table beside it gave off faintly pink light as well as heat, though most of the latter came from a fireplace opposite the wardrobe.
Itwasa nice room, certainly the best she’d ever been in. Branwyn yielded to impulse and threw herself backwards onto the excessive mattress.
They will, however, probably get suspicious if you start jumping on it.
