Maelgyn blinked. “You traded away my old tent?”
“Yeah.”
“I suppose that’s okay,” he admitted. Dwarves never gave up something for nothing, not even out of gratitude, and it was not like she had much to bargain with. He decided that it might be best to look around discretely and see if anything else was missing, however – he liked this girl, but he couldn’t be certain she was not a thief. Wincing, he stretched out. “Ugh. I suppose I feel better than I have any right to, but that flying trick of yours hurts. And making chainmail on the fly – chainmail! That takes both precision and force. You’re quite powerful, you know?”
“In terms of raw power, you’re significantly stronger than I am. I’ve just been forced to improve my skill faster than most people our age,” she said, clearly in one of her more verbose moods. “I think, if you trained hard for about a year, you could surpass me in skill, easily. You have a lot more potential magic inside you than I do.”
“How do you know that?” Maelgyn asked, watching his hands for any signs of unseen injury as he practiced making a fist a few times.
“You can ‘feel’ magic, can’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah, sort of. I can feel it when I touch it, at least, but I have to be inside of the field of magic to sense it.”
Euleilla nodded, and touched him slightly with her own magic – just a gentle nudge, but enough for him to feel it. “I can feel magic, too... only I’m better at it than you. I can feel not just its presence, but its strength. I can see you and other mages because of it... and you are so much brighter than anyone else I have ever met; brighter than my father, brighter than Cawnpore, and even brighter than me. You might not be able to do as much with your magic as I am, but only because you haven’t practiced enough to hone your skills properly.”
Maelgyn grimaced as a particularly knotted muscle cramped up during his stretches. At least the bruises were already fading. By the time they reached Elm Knoll, there wouldn’t be too many outward signs of any injuries. “Well, I haven’t had many chances to use my magic much over the past two or three years. I used more magic in that one battle alone than in all the time since I turned sixteen. I’m out of practice.”
“And I’ve had to use magic for every waking moment since I was twelve,” she explained, shrugging. “It’s just a matter of knowing exactly what I can do.”
“By the way... how did you know what was going on? I didn’t hear anything happening from the road.”
“Simple,” Euleilla said. “I can use magic to sense where people are, since all people have a little inherent magic in them whether they learn to use it or not. I felt two large gatherings of people and felt the need to investigate.”
“So why did you need to have some magic dust around me when we were up in the mountains?”
“Because I might be able to sense where you are, and how strong you are, but without my dust I can’t see what you’re doing at any one moment.” She ‘smiled,’ and cocked her head at him. “If you duck, I’d like to know you ducked so I can, too. You didn’t duck that tree limb, you know.”
“Sorry,” Maelgyn apologized, grinning himself. “One last question before you start giving one word answers, again: Just how were you able to make swords and armor so quickly, anyway?”
She looked somewhat offended. “I lived with a battle-hardened veteran for several years, a veteran who taught me how to ‘see’ by using swords and armor to make dummies. I probably know more about swords and armor than most blacksmiths!” She pulled out another sword – one she’d obviously made from the ruins of one of the bandit swords. It was a longsword, and looked to be custom-fit for him and complete with sheath. “Here. You don’t want to be flashing the symbol of your nobility around when you’re trying to keep your identity a secret, but the way things have been going you might need to draw a sword again. You might find this one better suited for that.”
“Uh, right,” he said, taking the weapon uncertainly. It felt comfortable in his hands, though, and he found he liked the weight and balance of it. A quick test of the sharpness told him that it was a very adequate weapon. “Thank you.”
She just nodded, grinning. “Enjoy.”
“Are you recovered from the battle, yet?” he asked, remembering that she’d drained herself during the fight making him fly.
“Mostly,” she answered.
“Well, then, should we go?”
“‘Kay.” She helped him out of the tent and left him standing to attend to their camp. Maelgyn watched her handle things from there with a small degree of awe.
With a wave of her hand, metal tent poles rose from the ground and pulled the tent closed. Another wave and their supplies were rolled up in a metal-lined canvas drop cloth. A few more handwaves and their entire camp was packed up, loaded on their horse. Maelgyn just shook his head, wondering how in the world she thought he would ever be able to match such a feat. Once more, they were on the road.
Chapter 7
Maelgyn wasn’t quite sure what to make of Elm Knoll. For what was such a small village, it seemed to have a large number of travelers. He hadn’t been sure it would be possible to find even a cheap hostel or inn to stay at when looking at the maps – he was just hoping for a bit of village green he could set his tent up in. However, Elm Knoll had lots of inns, many of them very high class establishments. In fact, outside of a couple of shops, it seemed as if the entire town consisted of inns and nothing else – no farms (though there’d been several along the road into town, which was apparently where the people of Elm Knoll got their food), few private homes, no blacksmiths, no carpenters, no lumber mills, no production of any kind. He’d never known a place like this. Obviously it was a fairly wealthy town, but he couldn’t see what it was that made it so much money. It didn’t matter, though: According to the papers Wybert had supplied, this was the best place to rest and resupply before starting on the mountain pass they now intended to take. Euleilla and pack horse in tow, he looked for one of the more unobtrusive inns.
He approached the counter at the inn he chose, the “Savage Bear,” with Euleilla in tow. “Excuse me, I’d like a room, please.”
The man at the counter smiled pleasantly. “Well, this is your lucky day. We just happen to have a single vacancy for you. Name and number of occupants?”
Maelgyn hadn’t thought of a false name to use, and wasn’t sure what to say. Then again, his own name was fairly common in some parts of Svieda, and so maybe he could get away with it. “Maelgyn. I’m here with my new wife.”
“Ah, newlyweds! Well, it just so happens that we have a private hot spring just for newlyweds! What’s her name?”
“Um... Euleilla.” Maelgyn wondered just what the man was talking about.
“Good, good,” the inn manager said. “Now, I need you to both sign here.”
“Sure,” Maelgyn said. Unlike most countries in the known world, the people of Svieda were largely literate; therefore, signing one’s own name was a common practice. He wasn’t sure, however, if Euleilla knew how to write, but he’d deal with that as it came to it. As he wrote down his own name, he asked. “So, what’s this about a private hot spring?”
“I thought you knew about our hot springs!” the inn manager exclaimed. “Why else would you stop in Elm Knoll?”
“Last stop before crossing over into Sopan,” Maelgyn explained, handing the pen and guestbook over to Euleilla with only a cursory glance of concern. “I’m going home. My family, well, they don’t know I’m married yet.”
“Ah,” the manager nodded sagely. “Well, you chose the right place to stop, especially for a couple of newlyweds. Elm Knoll is the home to the only sizable collection of hot springs in all of Largo! Whether you’re an old man trying to soak away the rheumatism in your bones, a road-weary traveler trying to relax, or,” he winked lecherously, “a young couple on your honeymoon, our hot springs are for you. And, since you’re staying here, you and your lovely young bride will have a chance to experience one tog
ether, and without interruption from others. Just make sure to sign up for it in advance, as time slots fill up fast.”
“I... don’t know if we’ll be staying long enough to enjoy that, this time,” Maelgyn said, wishing for the first time he hadn’t come up with his newlyweds story. If he hadn’t, then perhaps he’d have a chance to get a nice hot bath and clean the grime off. Now, though, if he tried to take one without having his ‘wife’ with him, people might start to get a little suspicious. “Perhaps at a later date, though.”
Euleilla handed the hotel manager the guest book with a blush visible on her face. Maelgyn caught sight of the register, and noticed with some surprise that she’d actually managed to write her name correctly. It looked a little unsteady, but it was legible and that was what was important. “We’ll go.”
“Huh?” Maelgyn stuttered. “We’ll go where?”
“Silly,” she said, grinning at him. “Hot spring. Here. Private. We’ll go. Tonight.”
The manager laughed. “Well, looks like she’s interested, even if you aren’t! Just remember to check the chart and mark your time beforehand. I’ll get a maid to take you to your rooms.”
He left, allowing Maelgyn to quickly turn to Euleilla and whisper harshly, “Just what is that about us going to the hot spring?”
“You want to go, don’t you?” she asked.
“Well, yeah, but it... it wouldn’t be proper,” Maelgyn stuttered.
“Why not?” she asked. “Would you be embarrassed by me? I won’t be able to see you, you know.”
Sometimes, Maelgyn forgot that about her. Still... “What about you? You are going to have to bathe at the same time, so-”
“Here we go,” the manager said, returning with a girl about a year younger than Maelgyn. “Cora, here, will show you to your rooms. Good night, and I hope you have a pleasant stay!”
“This way, please, sir, madam,” the maid said, gesturing before she started to lead the way. “Our kitchen is open from dawn ‘til dusk. We offer a wide selection of food, although I heartily recommend our kohitsujikashi – a lamb and yogurt sauce pastry adapted from a Dwarven delicacy. It’s our chef’s specialty. We brew our own ale here, or if you prefer to remain sober for the evening we offer a wide variety of fruit juices and flavored milks. I’m afraid we’re currently out of stock when it comes to teas, although we’re expecting a shipment from Mar’Tok to arrive in time for your breakfast tomorrow. Here is your room, number twenty-four. Will there be anything else?”
Maelgyn surveyed the room, thinking. He turned to Euleilla, and said, “Why don’t you unpack here? I’ve got a few things I have to do before turning in.”
“‘kay,” she said, slipping into their room, taking the bags he had been carrying with her.
Turning to Cora, he said, “First I’d like to talk with your stable master about grooming our pack horse. We got caught in a mudslide on our way here, and I’m afraid the beast is the worse for wear. Also, where would I find the latest news?”
The “latest news” had been fairly unremarkable. There had been several skirmishes at the front line, but it appeared nobody was willing to launch a full-scale attack just yet. Now that the initial panic was over, Wybert amended his draft laws. There would still be a draft, but most of his army would be formed by activating the militias. Many citizens of the duchy, so far from the front lines, had almost returned to a peacetime state of mind already. There was some concern about the damage that the blockade around Largo’s ports was going to do to trade and the economy, but not much else about the war appeared to be in the minds of the locals.
It had been a quiet three weeks since he’d last had word from the outside world, and that disturbed him. Everything he knew from the study of Sho’Curlas’ tactics said they should have done more by now... unless they were waiting for something.
Maelgyn was still considering what that something might be as he absently opened the door to his room and walked in. He looked around to survey the room and froze. It took him a few seconds to realize exactly what it was he was seeing, but when he did he gasped in shock.
“Remember to close the door,” a half-naked Euleilla called, sending a wave of magic to shut the door behind him. “I don’t want strangers looking in here.”
Maelgyn immediately closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, milady – I didn’t know you were changing! I... I should go back on out.”
“S’ok. Stay.”
“But-”
“Stay, husband,” she intoned. “Really, I don’t mind.”
“I don’t think this is right – I mean, we’re not really married and...”
For the first time, Maelgyn could feel Euleilla’s magic sensing him... it almost felt like she was glaring at him for some reason, but he couldn’t imagine why. At any rate, it caused him to shut his mouth real quick. He opened his eyes to look at her, and she seemed quite... tensed.
At least she had covered up – maybe not fully, but she was wearing enough to cover everything important. He found himself relieved... and maybe a bit disappointed. He was a man, after all, and she was quite an attractive woman.
“I thought you understood,” she said slowly, interrupting his thoughts. “This is Largo.”
“Yeah...” Maelgyn agreed uncertainly, not quite getting the implication.
“Maelgyn... how familiar are you with the civil laws of Largo?” she asked, though it sounded like she thought he should know the answer.
“I know them reasonably well,” he replied slowly. “Perhaps not perfectly, but then again I don’t live here.”
“What about marriage laws?”
“Yes, I’m as familiar with them here as I am anywhere else,” he answered.
Euleilla nodded. “Then you should know. Maelgyn, what are the three methods two people can marry, according to the civil laws of Largo?”
“Well, the first is religious marriage,” Maelgyn said. “If one wishes to marry, they have a priest perform a ceremony, and the priest will take their oath and declare them married. Most marriages are like this.”
“Yes, but not all,” Euleilla, with forced patience, noted. “What are the other two methods?”
“A town magistrate, a judge, a captain of a ship, or a Noble of the Province may perform a wedding ceremony. This is much rarer. Usually, they are only performed when a priest is unavailable or the bride and groom are from different religions.”
“Go on,” she encouraged, obviously hoping that the point would get to him soon.
“Well, the third method was created by Wybert fairly recently to stem the tide of illegal prostitution,” Maelgyn explained. “So that no-one could pretend to be married when checking into a room at an inn, he wrote a law which stated that any two unmarried people who check into a room together are... are legally married.” He blinked. “Like us. Did... did I just marry you?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “And I thought you knew you were doing it, too. Or at least I hoped you did.”
“But... that’s... I didn’t mean to... I just wanted a good cover story!” he sputtered. “I didn’t mean to get married!”
“So, you don’t want me as your wife?” she asked softly. Just as he could sense her ‘glare’ earlier, he could now sense her withdraw from him. It was painful to hear that voice, to hear how fragile she’d suddenly become. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but what could he say? He really hadn’t meant to get married to her, after all.
Then again, she didn’t ask him if he’d wanted to get married, did she? Just if he wanted her as his wife... which wasn’t quite the same thing.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered, unsure even as he spoke just what he meant by that, or what question he was really answering.
“What?” she said, a tiny edge of hope returning to her voice.
“Well... I mean, did you want me as your husband? I suppose you did, since you thought I knew I was marrying you, but... you don’t even know me, so why?”
“I... I don’t know, either,” Euleilla
admitted. “When you first said, ‘we could be newlyweds,’ I didn’t know what to think. And then you followed that by saying you didn’t want me thought of as a prostitute, so I... I figured that you wanted the ‘benefits’ of marrying me, at least. And... I didn’t want to say no. I wasn’t sure about saying yes, either, but I knew I couldn’t say no. I convinced myself that you knew what you were asking.” She paused. “I didn’t think anyone would ever want to marry me, you see. I never thought anyone would be able to get past my eyes. But you knew about them, and I thought you wanted to really marry me. Well, I hoped you really did, so I... I didn’t risk making sure that you knew what you were doing. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I should have known what I was asking,” Maelgyn replied softly. “And while I didn’t mean to get married to you, I... don’t find the idea altogether unpleasant. Just... I barely know you. I met you, what, two, three weeks ago? Earlier today, when we were signing into the hotel register, I didn’t even know if you could write. Shouldn’t that be the kind of thing you should know about a person before getting married?”
“I can sign my name, if I’m careful,” Euleilla said with a sad grin on her face. “I can even read. It just takes a special ink on the parchment for me to be able to see the writing.”
“Like I said, I don’t know much about you,” Maelgyn said. He paused, unsure of how to go on. She looked so sad, and it was all his fault. His fault, because he’d let her believe she was getting a husband, which she never thought she could have. His fault that he couldn’t answer ‘yes’ when asked if he wanted her as a wife. His fault, because he just didn’t know her.
In a rush of words, he continued, “I’d love to learn, though. I find you... attractive, even if you look a little unusual with that hairstyle and the oddly colored silk vests you favor. I can’t believe you intentionally pick clothes in that color! I’m impressed with your magic, and the intelligence you have shown in dealing with all of your problems. I do like you – you understand that, right? I really enjoy your company, and have since I met you. I think you’re a little weird, and not because of your blindness, but I actually like that about you. But I can’t say I love you, yet, which is what I’d like to be able to say to my bride, you know?”
In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) Page 8