At the sound of hoofbeats, she swings down from her wooden throne. “Hello, darlings! Took you long enough. Did you take a nap every mile?”
On approach, she proves to be only a few inches shorter than Evain. She wears a loose brown shirt under a tightly-laced leather vest, and there’s a wide streak of Riverswords-blue in her black hair. Her skin has an unhealthy pallor, like she’s spent too long out of the sun, but her dark eyes are bright. The paper bag in her hand smells like candied nuts.
“Good to see you too, Georgia,” Arthur answers with a grin. He swings down from the saddle and gestures. “This is Evain Marha. Evain, this is Captain Georgia Oakven.”
Another Lyrisenian name.
“Delighted to meet you.” Evain dismounts as well. “Arthur and Shae told me you were charged with protecting the roads north of the border, and I’d love to talk about a collaboration, if you’re amenable.”
“I’m amenable.” Georgia cocks her head. “But I’m not cheap.”
“Conveniently, I’m not stingy,” Evain says. “But I’m not desperate either, and I know the Lanwatch council’s already paying you.”
Georgia laughs. “Never enough, my friend, never enough.”
Evain points to the rest of the crew in turn. “Sir Freya, of the Radiant Order. Sir Haldis and Sir Marta, of the Sephinian Order. And Leth…” He trails off, suddenly unsure how to label Leth. A ka Tariel? A Locksmith? A sword-witch?
Leth dismounts and leads his mare forward. “I worked for the Port Charain company for a few years, under Captain Bry.”
Right. He was a Riversword too.
Georgia looks Leth up and down. “Guess you’re older than you look, pipsqueak. You must not have served recently, because I hear it’s Commander Bry now. He was always a kiss-ass.”
Leth doesn’t seem bothered by the dig on his height—or if he’s bothered, he doesn’t show it. He’s always so polite with people who aren’t Evain. What would happen if Evain called him pipsqueak? Could be fun to find out.
A lean, silver-haired man emerges from the outpost and joins them. “Nightven, could you meet with Georgia first? I’ll get your friends and horses settled.”
Georgia winks at him. “You worry too much, sweetheart. But sure. You lot, this is Reed, my second in command and fretting nursemaid. He’ll set you up. Nightven?”
Shae hands his reins to Arthur. “Of course.”
“And take these.” Georgia shoves the paper bag into Shae’s hands. “I’m sick of just smelling them all day.”
Clutching the bag of candied nuts, Shae follows Georgia into the outpost. A breeze picks up, and Evain catches the sickly-sweet smell of blood. Interesting. There are very few reasons someone would need a necromancer to check them over.
“We’re going to stay at the Mother’s church,” Haldis says. “We’ll meet you back here when we’ve stabled our horses and spoken with our priests.”
“Bye bye,” Marta adds with a little wave, and kicks her horse away.
Haldis lingers another moment and points at Freya, who’s half out of her saddle already. “You’re staying with us tonight, too,” she declares, then rides after Marta.
Freya freezes, then swings back into her saddle with a laugh. “Am I good or what?”
***
A few hours later, everyone gathers in the Riverswords meeting room: a comfortable collection of frayed armchairs and sofas around a crackling fire. Reed comes around with beers for everyone, and only Leth and Haldis decline.
Arthur and Shae take one oversized chair, and Freya and her Sephinians pile onto the sofa. Evain perches on the arm of the other chair, wondering if Leth will dare take the only remaining seat—until Leth pulls a wooden chair over from the card table across the room. He sets it across from Evain, never once making eye contact.
He doesn’t need to, for Evain to feel the desire wafting from him. Only centuries of practice keep Evain’s expression unchanged, and if anyone notices the tightening in his trousers, well, that’s their fault for staring at his cock.
Georgia sits on the low table, the firelight bringing some color to her pallid cheeks. On the rest of the table spreads a map of Lyrisenia, weighted down with empty bottles on the corners. Maybe Evain could buy it off her for use in his own important meetings.
“Your hospitality is much appreciated.” Evain raises his beer in salute. “As for our purpose in Lanwatch…”
Lanwatch’s council has already hired Georgia’s company to keep the roads clear between Lanwatch and the nearest Lyrisenian settlements. There’s still some trade between the groups, though it’s getting more dangerous by the day. Evain explains the wavering of the Northern Barrier, the pending military reinforcement, and his own scheme to seal the rifts.
“That’d be a lot of help,” Georgia says when he finishes. “As sweet as the hazard pay is, I’d rather my darlings start getting their beauty sleep again. Mother knows some of them need it. What do you want from us?”
