“It was all they had,” Alaric said.
“That wasn’t a criticism.” She dropped her pack on one of the beds, which were, as promised, big enough for two—or one and a half if Alaric was one. “Should we leave someone here to guard it?”
“I think we’re safe,” Alaric said.
“Even so, I think I should cast a confusion on it,” Sienne said.
“I thought artifacts couldn’t be altered by spells,” Dianthe said.
“This will be on the canvas, not the artifact.” Sienne knelt and shoved the artifact under the bed that stood against the far wall, back deep into a corner. She opened her spellbook and laid it on the floor, crouched so she could see both the pale canvas and the spellbook, and read off the confusion camouflage. Darkness spread like pooling ink across the pale canvas, blending with the shadows under the bed. She read the spell again, giving the canvas the almost-invisible grain of the wall and floor. “Take a look.”
Dianthe crouched. “I can barely see it, and I know what to look for. Nice.”
Sienne closed her spellbook and put it back in its harness. “Now I’m hungry.”
They trooped back down to the taproom, which was, if anything, busier and noisier than before. A group of men, probably farmers by their dress, gathered near the fireplace, drinking and shouting to be heard above their fellows. A couple of musicians valiantly sawed away at their fiddles, but it was impossible to hear more than the highest notes. An exhausted serving woman passed them, rolling her eyes when Perrin put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Wait your turn,” she said.
“I will be happy to wait, if it means waiting on you,” Perrin said with a smile.
It charmed a tired smile out of the woman. “Be right back.”
“How do you do that?” Kalanath said. “It is a surprise every time.”
“There is no surprise,” Perrin said with a shrug. “People respond well to kindness when it is sincere, and I am always sincere.”
“It certainly doesn’t work for me,” Alaric rumbled.
“Your size mitigates against it, I think. Yours to intimidate, mine to charm.”
The serving woman returned. “What’ll it be?” She addressed all of them, but her eyes were on Perrin.
“Brandy for me,” Perrin said, “beer for my companions, and whatever delicious-smelling thing is served for dinner, if you please.”
“See if you can find a table, and I’ll bring you your drinks.” She looked around as if hoping a free table would appear out of nowhere.
“My thanks,” Perrin said with another smile. “You’re most generous, given how busy you are. I hope not every night is like this one.”
“Every year at this time, for a good three nights. You picked the wrong time to stop here.” She smiled, showing a dimple that made her look younger than she was.
“Well, we are in no hurry.”
Sienne’s stomach chose that moment to growl, audible even over the noise. The serving woman laughed and turned away.
“Over here,” Alaric said, pushing through the crowd. A man and woman sat at a round table that was otherwise unoccupied, wrapped in each other’s arms and kissing so intently they didn’t notice when Alaric sat down. It was almost too small for the seven of them, forcing the companions to sit close together. Sienne managed to sit next to Alaric. She put her hand on his knee beneath the table and squeezed gently, enjoying the look of surprised pleasure that crossed his face.
It was hard not to watch the kissing couple. Sienne turned her attention to the musicians, but she couldn’t make out what they were playing and was pretty sure they didn’t know, either. Kalanath looked at the couple with obvious interest. “It is not a thing we do in Omeira, to make affection in public,” he said. “It is sacred to God.”
“Interesting,” Perrin said. He, too, was watching the couple with his elbow propped on the table and his chin in his hand. “I wonder that these two do not find a quieter place to share their affection.”
The man disengaged long enough to say, “Get lost.”
“He speaks!” Perrin leaned forward. “I admire your singleness of mind, both of you. Have you been wed long?”
The woman giggled. “None of your business,” the man snarled.
“I think they are not married,” Kalanath said. “Else they have a house to go to.”
The man let go the woman and stood, looming over Kalanath. “You wanna say that again, Omeiran scum?”
Alaric rose. “You might want to reconsider saying anything else.”
The man’s eyes widened. Alaric sitting looked big. Alaric standing looked enormous. The man took the woman’s hand and pulled her to her feet, clearly wanting to hurry away but afraid to turn his back on Alaric. Alaric smiled pleasantly and made a shooing motion with one hand. The couple fled.
“I do not need protecting,” Kalanath said with a smile, “except that this place is too small for staff fighting. I would have to use hands and feet, and I prefer not.” He scooted his chair away, giving the others room to spread out.
“Mine to intimidate, eh?” Alaric said, taking his seat. “I enjoy getting the better of bullies.”
The serving woman appeared with a huge platter of tarnished silver from which came the most heavenly aromas of fresh beef and sautéed onions. “Hope you like steak,” she said, setting out plates.
Sienne’s stomach growled again. She loved steak, and these were particularly beautiful—properly browned, marbled with fat and flowing with dark juices, piled high with sweet-smelling onions in loops and curls across the beef. She picked up the fork that lay across the plate and took out her belt knife. “Is this really what they’re serving tonight?”
“It’s what I’m serving to people I like,” the woman said, smiling at Perrin.
“We thank you for your generosity,” Perrin said, bowing slightly. “My companions and I have not eaten so well in days.”
“You’re scrappers?”
“Indeed.”
“That’s so exciting! Find anything good?”
“Alas, no,” Perrin lied, “and our adventures were such that your lovely hair would go white at the telling, so I dare not abuse your hospitality so.”
The woman laughed. “Let me know if I can get anything else for you.” She turned and sidled through the crowds toward the bar.
All eyes turned on Perrin, who took a large bite of steak and onions. “What?” he said through his mouthful.
“Were you flirting?” Dianthe said. “I’m sure you weren’t flirting.”
“I was not. I was merely being my usual charming self.” The smile was gone. Sienne had a sudden feeling they shouldn’t press him on this issue.
“I wonder why they have such good meat on hand,” she said, forestalling whatever Kalanath had been about to say. “I doubt most of these people can afford to eat like this even now and again.”
“The last time we were here, one of the ranchers to the south was about to slaughter cattle,” Alaric said. “I don’t know anything about ranching, but the man I talked to said he had to cull his herd sooner than he expected. Might be a lot of good beef on the market.”
“How unfortunate that we cannot take it with us,” Perrin said, chewing placidly. He downed the contents of his brandy glass in one gulp and signaled the serving woman for another.
Sienne glanced at Alaric, whose expression when looking at Perrin was impassive. He said, “I’d like us to get an early start, so let’s not stay up too late drinking.”
“Was that directed at me?” Perrin said.
“It was directed at everyone. Is there some reason you think it should be directed at you?” Alaric shot back.
Perrin pushed his half-eaten meal away and stood. “What I do is my own concern. If I intend to enjoy a few glasses of brandy, well, there’s no harm in that, is there?”
Alaric’s body tensed. “What’s Averran’s opinion?”
Perrin slammed his fist on the table, making Dianthe, sitting nearest him, jump.
“My relationship with my avatar is none of your business, and I will thank you to keep out of it.” He shoved his chair back. “I will see you all later. I intend to find a more congenial place to drink.” Pushing through the crowds, he made his way to the door and slammed through it.
Alaric sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You weren’t wrong,” Dianthe said. “It’s why he’s angry. He knows he has a problem.”
“I think… he didn’t like the accusation of flirting,” Sienne said. “I’m not blaming you,” she went on hurriedly as Dianthe opened her mouth to protest. “It’s just… I think he’s still faithful to his wife, in his heart, even though they can’t be together.”
“He has a wife?” Kalanath exclaimed.
“Didn’t I say—oh. He met his father at the auction house—”
“His father?”
“There’s a lot I haven’t mentioned, isn’t there?”
“Just a bit,” Dianthe said. “Go on.”
“Anyway, his father as much as accused him of cheating on his wife with me, and Perrin said it wasn’t his choice that his vows were annulled, and that he was still faithful. I think Perrin gets drunk whenever he thinks about his family.”
“It’s what I suspected,” Dianthe said. She looked at the door Perrin had left by. “My heart goes out to him.”
“Yes, but he’s going to destroy himself if he keeps this up,” Alaric said. “You heard his prayers. I think Averran has been after him about his drinking. You’d think if an avatar told you to stop, you’d do it.”
“But if an avatar can’t change him, what can we do?” Sienne exclaimed.
“Be patient, and wait for him to speak,” Kalanath said. “It is what I would want.”
“That’s right,” Alaric said. He resumed eating. “He’s our companion, and more than that, he’s our friend. We have to let him know we support him.”
“But—”
“He’s a grown man, Sienne. We can’t force him against his will.”
Sienne scowled. “There has to be something more we can do.”
“If you think of it, let us know,” Alaric said.
Her delicious steak had lost its aroma. “I’ll be back,” she said, rising.
“Where are you going?” Alaric asked.
“Just out back to the facilities.” She cleaned off her belt knife and sheathed it before pushing her way through the crowd, past the bar and out the door.
The inn had three outhouses around back, set well away from where their stink would inconvenience customers. The sun had set, and the nip in the air chilled Sienne. She hurried to the one on the end whose door hung ajar. It didn’t smell as bad as she’d expected, given the number of patrons the inn served that night. She made a magic light, then wished she hadn’t, as the floor of the outhouse was mucky and disgusting. She’d almost have rather it smelled bad. Quickly, she did her business, then stepped outside and summoned water to wash her hands.
She examined her boot soles. Nasty muck she hoped was dirt clung to one of them. She crossed the yard and the street in front of the inn to a strip of grass that ran alongside the road. Dragging her foot along its softness, she wiped off as much filth as she could, then went back to the stable yard and kicked her feet against one of the fence posts, knocking off more. Satisfied she wouldn’t be trailing the outhouse stink across the taproom, she hurried back to the inn, wishing she had her cloak.
She reached the door just a pace behind someone else who was wearing a cloak, the hood pulled up against the cold night air. “Excuse me,” the man said, holding the door for Sienne.
Sienne nodded thanks and was about to enter when she stopped, stunned. “What on earth?” she exclaimed. “Aneirin?”
15
Aneirin’s brows rose. “Sienne!” he said. “What a pleasant surprise!”
“A surprise, at least,” Sienne said. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you say you were engaged to play for a duke for the first summer season?”
Aneirin wrinkled his nose as if he’d eaten something rotten. “Unfortunately, that engagement fell through,” he said, “and I’m at loose ends. But let’s not stand in the doorway chatting. Allow me to buy you a drink.”
Still stunned, Sienne let him lead her to the bar, where he found an empty stool for her. He shrugged off her suggestion that he sit, too. “I don’t mind standing,” he said, gesturing to the barkeep for two glasses of wine. “As to my predicament, well, it seems the duke in whose home I intended to reside had two very lovely daughters, both of whom appreciated my many skills.”
“I bet they did,” Sienne said.
Aneirin laughed. “I’d forgotten how keen your wit is. It’s true, I practiced my more amatory arts on them, but of course I intended it as harmless flirtation. They, alas, felt otherwise, and when the duke tried to prevail upon me to marry one of them, I decided it was time for me to take my leave. My savings brought me this far, and now I play for my supper and a few extra soldi at the other inn every night, and come here for a companionable drink afterward. Easier not to play, so to speak, where I work.” He sipped his wine. “But now I insist you tell me of your adventures. Have you returned from the wilderness so early?”
Sienne thought fast. It was beyond coincidental that Aneirin was here, never mind the story he’d spun. He’d confided in her so she’d feel comfortable opening up to him. The question was, how much should she tell him? “What makes you think we’ve already gone? We might well be on our way out.”
“You left with such alacrity, I assumed you traveled at the same speed. But you’re right, that was simply a guess on my part. I don’t know anything about scrappers, except that there’s one I’m interested in getting to know.” Aneirin smiled and put his hand over Sienne’s. She kept from jerking it away.
“We’re headed back to Fioretti,” she said. “So your guess was right.”
“Then you were successful?”
Sienne made another lightning-fast decision. “We were. We’re going to report to our client and get paid.”
“And what does success look like, for a scrapper like you?” Aneirin stepped closer, not letting go of her hand. Standing, he loomed over her on her stool, and she had to work at not flinching. She felt no sense of menace from him, but he was still bigger than she was, and the greatest dangers were the ones you didn’t see coming.
“It means whatever makes the client happy, or brings us the best salvage,” she said. “Sometimes both.”
“What did your client want?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. I can say she’ll be satisfied with what we bring her.” That was a lie, since Tonia Figlari didn’t want an emerald falcon artifact that might be capable of destroying thousands with a touch, or however it was activated. But Aneirin didn’t need to know the truth.
“Well, I won’t press you for details. I’m more interested in knowing if you’ve changed your mind.” Aneirin’s face was very near hers, and she smelled mutton and wine on his breath. She was about to ask what he meant when he leaned closer and swift as thought pressed his lips to hers.
She jerked backward, bumping into the person seated next to her, who grunted reproof. “How dare you!” she exclaimed. She wiped his kiss off with the back of her hand.
Aneirin looked puzzled. “My apologies,” he said. “I thought… but I was mistaken. Forgive me my blunder?” He smiled that same winning smile that had attracted her attention from the beginning.
“Does that work on every woman?” Sienne asked.
“Sadly, no,” Aneirin said. “It failed to work on you, clearly. I really am sorry. I enjoy flirtation, but I have never made a habit of kissing unwilling women.”
Despite herself, she felt sorry for him. “I believe you.”
Aneirin glanced over her shoulder. “Ah. Your Ansorjan companion is looking at me as if he wishes he could gut, clean, and butcher me. I might have guessed your relationship was rather closer than that of companions.”
Sienne
kept a blush off her face. “He’s just protective. We’re not together.”
“Really? Then I need not sleep with a knife under my pillow.” Aneirin caressed her cheek, so briefly it was over before she could protest. “Farewell, Sienne. Will you be here tomorrow night?”
“No,” she said automatically, then wondered if she shouldn’t have stayed close-mouthed. Well, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t find out their travel plans elsewhere, if he really cared.
“Such a shame. Then—here’s to chance meetings.” Aneirin saluted her with his glass, drained it, and left it on the bar. Sienne watched him until the door was safely closed behind him, then finished her wine and crossed the room to once more sit with her companions.
Perrin was still gone. Kalanath had asked for, and gotten, seconds on the steak and onions. Alaric looked as if he were ready to explode. “What was that about?” he said. “Where did he come from?”
“It is a huge coincidence, isn’t it?” Sienne said, taking a seat next to Alaric. “He says his performing agreement fell through, and he’s been staying here trying to earn money to move on, but I don’t believe him.”
“And yet the alternative is believing he was waiting here for us,” Dianthe said. “That he’s been after us ever since we left Fioretti.”
“If he is an enemy of Tonia Figlari, that makes sense,” Kalanath said. “What I would like to know is how much an enemy knows of her plans.”
“Meaning, does Aneirin know what Tonia hired us to do?” Sienne said. “It’s impossible to say. Is it better for us to assume he does, or that he doesn’t?”
“Better to assume he knows,” Alaric said. “If he didn’t, he’d ask different questions and he’d have snooped around us more. So let’s say Aneirin knows Tonia sent us to the Figlari dukedom to retrieve the falcon stone. Sienne, did you tell him we had it?”
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