In the time it took to relieve herself, the man had vacated the rear corner. She shifted her gaze around the room in search of his bald head and found him at the door with another man—a familiar man who should’ve been on his way to Breighton. Sam stood in the doorway, his voice low as he argued with the visitor. He shook his head as the visitor pointed toward the back corner, before they both exited the inn.
If Shara followed them, she risked Mel’s ire and losing what little income she brought in. But if she didn’t, she’d never know why her lover had lied about where he was going. She rushed to the bar where Mel stood, her gray hair clashing with the yellow of her blouse. “Good riddance,” she muttered through yellowed teeth.
“That man’s trouble. I need to go fetch the Guard.”
“While yer-a-gone, I’ll be needin’ the Guard m’self. Yer job’s here.”
Shara smirked. “For this lot? They’ll give ya trouble the day ya die and only so they can drink ya into the heavens. I’ll be back quickly.”
Before Mel could protest further, Shara was out the door. The porch creaked beneath her as she searched for the two men. There were only so many buildings in a town this size, and she spotted movement across the clearing, in front of blacksmith’s. The bald man dug in a bag tied to a horse’s saddle while Sam stood watching.
To remain unseen, she’d need a rooftop. Lucky Mel’s has easy access. Between the inn and the baker next door, lay a small storage shed with a roof half as high as the surrounding buildings. Pulling herself on top was simple, though the tin roof rattled a bit when she landed. Neither men glanced in her direction, keen as they were on the guard station two building’s down. From the shed’s roof, Shara pulled herself up on top of tavern’s roof, which wrapped around the front porch as an overhang and connected to the next building over.
Before she reached the two men, Sam shouted a warning, and the man with the bald-head mounted his horse. He handed her lover a piece of parchment before taking his boots to the horse’s flank. Shara climbed down from the rooftop, her feet landing a touch heavier than she expected. When the roof top clanged, Sam spun around, his gaze on the rooftops. His eyes widened when he spotted her. “Shara! The gall of that man—”
“Save it.”
He flinched at her words but didn’t continue his lie. Instead, he followed her back to the inn in silence.
Door opened, she pushed him through and followed him to the back corner, where she suspected he would’ve met with the Amaskan if Sam hadn’t known she was working the inn today. For once, Mel kept her mouth shut as Shara claimed the chair across from Sam.
“I didn’t get a close enough look at his jaw, but I’m bettin’ that man was Amaskan,” she said.
He could’ve lied.
He could’ve made up all manner of excuses for what was happening and what caused him to lie to her in the first place, but her Sam wasn’t like that. Or so she thought.
He did lie ’bout where he was goin’, so he could’ve lied about this man, too. Shara glanced at Sam’s jaw, but his bushy beard obscured anything that may lie beneath it, and she frowned.
“I’ll assume by yer silence that I’m correct. So are ya?” she asked.
“Am I what?”
“Amaskan.”
For three months she’d shared his bed. Long enough to read his face when something bothered him and long enough to know when he was lying. But as he opened his mouth, his brows furrowed and his lips twitched. “You watched us, yes? So you saw me arguing with a man thought to be Amaskan. If I was arguing with him, what makes you think I’m one of those killers? I figured you knew me better than that.”
Shara reached across the table to grab him by the chin, but he caught her hand.
“Don’t. Please.”
His rich, brown eyes pleaded with her, but she wrest her hand away from his and grabbed his jaw. His ear-length brown hair was about the right length for having grown it out, as was his beard. Turning his head toward the light, she used her fingers to dig through the coarse brown. As she parted his hairs, faint lines lay beneath them.
There was no mistaking the circle. Shara jerked her hand away as if his skin was diseased, but he caught her by the arm.
“If we’re being honest here…” He licked his thumb and smeared it across her jaw, exposing her tattoo.
No surprise flared in his eyes, and Shara’s heart pounded in her chest. He knows? He has to have known for a while.
One moment, she sat across from him and the next, she stood in their room, the dimness a welcome visitor after seeing his tattoo. The panic lasted a few breaths as she grabbed her bag from beneath their bed. She shoved clothing in first and only the barest minimum. The room’s window provided the perfect escape. If I head ‘cross the Alexander border, maybe I can find work with the Guard. Hide where they least expect me.
The thought made her chest ache, but she ignored it as she searched for what she’d need. Her hands touched flint and steel as the door opened behind her, and she held both before her like a weapon.
Sam stood in the doorway, his hands out in front of him. “Please, let’s talk about this.”
“Leave this room.”
The growl in her voice startled her, but not Sam as he continued to hold his hands out as a peace offering.
“Look, there’s more to this than you think. Let’s talk, please.”
Shara grabbed his wrist and pressed it against her belly. “There is, ya stupid fool. Bredych has played us both.”
Movement beneath his hand caught him off guard, and his eyes widened. “You’re with child? My child?”
She nodded. “And you’ve cursed us both to death.”
He frowned; his hand still pressed against her belly. “A child for the Order is only a blessing. Surely—”
When she shoved him, he stumbled backward into the doorframe. “Don’t ya get it? I came here to get away from the Order. I abandoned them. To return is death.”
“It’s not true. Your brother wants you home. If he wanted you dead, he would’ve sent me to kill you.”
“And what’d he do?” she asked as she tossed the flint and steel in the bag. “Send ya here to bring me back to the Order at all costs? Pretend to fall in love with me so ya could force me home?”
When she turned to grab her cloak, Sam grabbed her by the shoulders. She could fight him. She’d probably win, too, but at what cost? Damn this child. Instead, she relaxed her muscles beneath his grip.
He spun her around to face him, and when she met his gaze, brown circles of mud melted her anger. “I…I was sent here to find you, yes. To gain your trust and bring you back. But then I fell in love with you. Dammit, this wasn’t planned, Shara. I certainly didn’t intend for a child to complicate things. Please, you have to believe me.”
“How can I? Ya lied to me. You’ve been lyin’ to me this entire time. For three months, Sam.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I promise your brother means you no harm.”
“What makes ya think ya know my brother better’n me, hmm? This is my brother. The man who was willin’ to do whatever it took to get to the top, includin’ usin’ me. If I return, he’ll kill us both.”
The room spun around her. Shara stumbled away from him and towards the bed, where she sat, head between her hands.
“What is it?”
“Nothin’. Just a little dizziness is all.”
“How long has this been going on?”
Shara shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe a week or two.”
“You’re doing too much. You need to rest and not upset the baby.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Too late. Ya should’ve thought of that before ya decided to come here and betray me.”
Rather than address her comment, he grabbed the bed’s lone pillow and set it behind her. “Lay on the bed. Give your body a minute to calm down.”
“Ya might as well tell me the details,” she said as the lumpy bed embraced her.
He
eased himself down into a nearby chair without being too close to her. The wrinkles across his face aged him, and he ran his hands through his chin-length hair. When she’d first met him, his hair had been shorter, like hers, but not short enough to have made her question his identity. He must’ve been lookin’ for me before Tarmsworth. Close to when I first left Bredych.
As if he’d followed her thoughts, he said, “Your brother sent me out less than week after his return. Told me to grow my hair and beard out. If you thought I was Amaskan, he said you’d only run the faster, so I did what he asked and set out East.”
“How’d ya know I’d head East?”
“I didn’t, but your brother suggested you might find sympathy with the Alexandrians. They dislike Amaskans. Always looking for a reason to shame Sadai for supporting us. I’ll admit I was surprised to find you still in this Kingdom. I thought I’d have to go further than Tarmsworth to find you.”
“Town’s small. Figured anyone lookin’ would head across the border rather than stop before it. Ya said my brother sent ya.” Which means he’s Grand Master. I’d wager on it. She didn’t tell Sam that, but instead asked, “What did Grand Master Elish say to my desertion?”
Sam frowned. “About the time you were burning down Lachail, Elish’s heart failed him.”
“When I was burnin’ down Lachail?”
He winced. “Your brother told us what happened. He…well, he said the town was destroyed because you grew careless. He used it as one reason why he should lead us. Better training for Amaskans and ensuring they followed orders and sought Justice rather than vengeance.”
“Of course he did. Did anyone check Elish for poison?”
“No evidence of anything like that. No wounds either. Mystic said his heart gave out, which makes sense as the man was old. As you’ve probably guessed, your brother convinced the Masters to name him Grand Master. It may sound odd…but if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he used magic to do it.”
“He’s never had any magic I could see. Besides, what would he have that would sway the Masters?”
“Maybe some sort of forgotten magic. I don’t know. It just seemed odd that they went along with it so easily.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “You don’t seem surprised by that.”
Shara shook her head. “He’s wanted the title since the moment he arrived. I’m surprised Grand Master Elish lasted as long as he did. Especially if he does have magic.”
“You would accuse your own brother?” asked Sam.
“Why not? He’s implicated me in plenty, even things I didn’t do.”
“When I found you working her at Mel’s, I did what I was ordered to do. Get close to you and earn your trust to convince you to return to the Order. Only, it all ended up different than I expected. I never intended to fall in love with you, Shara, but I did. Once that happened, I had no intention of forcing you to do anything. Honest.”
It was the way he said the word “love” that betrayed his youth. At twenty-nine, Shara wasn’t old, but she wasn’t the young and naive girl who’d given her life to the Order either. Sam reminded her of a calf the way his eyes melted when he looked at her with the word on his lips. She sighed, then shifted in bed as the baby kicked her belly. “My brother’s smart. He would’ve thought of all this, as he hates when plans don’t go his way.”
“Well, he underestimated me then. I thought I’d found my family with the Order. Serving Justice was a code worthy of all. Silly me thought I had all the answers about life, too, until you. I don’t care what Bredych thinks you’ve done. You’re not the person he claims you are. I…If you say your brother is a danger to us, then he is.”
“I’m surprised ya didn’t kill that Amaskan then. Leavin’ here alive means he could report back to my brother.”
“That would’ve left a clue that Jaefil was on to something. A missing Amaskan raises too many questions. Besides, it’s my fault he was here. I made the mistake of not reporting back to the Order this month. He said he was here to relieve me in the search for you. I told him I was close to finding you and had made too many connections for him to start nosing around.”
“So that’s what you two were arguing about.”
Sam nodded. “He didn’t want to leave. Said the trail led here and only here. He implied that if I hadn’t found you in Tarmsworth, I didn’t know how to do my job. I convinced him I’d gotten proof you were in Alexander. So now he’s heading back to the Order with the update I didn’t send.”
“How sure are you that he took the bait?”
He hesitated enough to give her worry, but eventually answered. “As sure as I can be. If he comes back, we’ll deal with it then. I’ll not allow him to harm you or the baby.”
She let the words spin around in her mind a bit. Her heart ached to believe him. To trust him. “‘There’s no honor in deceit,’” she whispered, quoting the now deceased Grand Master Elish.
“‘Nor is there honor in the death of an innocent.’ Your brother would do well to remember the word of the Thirteen before those of the Order.”
She’d been thinking of him when she’d said it, but it applied to her brother as easily, and she sighed. “I have no honor. Not since I left. But now that we’re on the topic, how much honor do ya have? Do ya see yerself as a father to this child? I ain’t lookin’ to face the entire Order, so if they’re on to me, I need to find a way out of Sadai soon.”
He crouched beside the bed. “This child is yours and mine. Whatever you need to keep him or her safe, I’ll do it.”
When he took her hand in his, she blinked back a few tears. The pounding in her chest slowed, but her stomach churned. If only I could believe ya.
“You rest here. I’ll work downstairs tonight. The last thing the baby needs is you fighting off some drunkard in a tavern.”
He missed her sigh as she lay in bed. Other than the occasional dizziness, she’d felt fine through the pregnancy. No reason she couldn’t continue busting heads. The Thirteen know the last thing I want is to lay here for months ’til this baby’s born.
Sam closed the door behind him, and she propped herself up on an elbow. She could leave. She could flee now and not look back… But as she stared at the half-packed bag on the floor, the baby kicked her.
Damn fool loves me. Loves the baby, too. No doubt ’bout it. And damn if I don’t love him right back.
She kicked the blankets off and pouted.
“Ya can’t keep me from doin’ my job, Samuhel Banach,” said Shara as she stood near the inn’s entrance, one hand on her hip. “I’m pregnant, not incompetent.”
“And if someone comes in swinging a sword, what then? Are you going to put our child between him and whoever he’s wanting to run through?”
She glanced at Mel, who tossed her arms in the air. “Don’ put me in the middle o’ this,” the bar matron said. “I ain’t the one who’s with child.”
“Argh.” Shara pulled her dagger from its sheath. “Look, if some fool comes runnin’ in here with a sword, he won’t make it past the first step. That’s assumin’ anyone in this town’s fool enough to try that in the first place. ‘Sides, we need the money.”
Sam strode from the inn, slamming the door shut behind him. Whereas Mel relaxed, thinking it the end of the squabble, Shara leaned against the wall and waited. Three minutes later, footsteps outside alerted her to Sam’s return. The way he put more weight on his right heel created a special kind of thud on the wooden steps that could only be him, and she stuck her left foot across his path.
The door swung open, and he rushed in, his face a screwed up mask of frustration and anger. When his ankle connected with her foot, his body pitched forward, and he slid across the wooden floor a few feet before stopping. By the time he raised up his head, Shara held her dagger pointed at his face. “Still think I can’t do m’job?” she asked.
“I’m one person, Shara. Besides, you were expecting me.”
He pushed himself up, but the moment he shifted weight onto his
right foot, he winced. Sam tried a second time to rise and failed before letting loose a string of obscenities. “Can I get a little help?” he asked.
“But I’m pregnant. It might hurt the baby to do more than lay in bed all day.”
Mel snickered, then ducked into the back room when Sam shot her an ugly look. “Alright, you’re plenty capable. Now could you help me up?”
Shara dipped a shoulder beneath his and pushed with her thighs to help lift him to standing. Even with support, Sam’s ankle refused to take his weight, and she set him down in a nearby chair. “Looks like yer ankle’s sprained. Gonna need to wrap it and stay off it for a few weeks ’til it heals.”
“How do you know it’s not broken?”
“Broken ankle, ya’d be screamin’ more. Trust me.” Shara strode over to the empty bar and hopped over it.
“Show off,” said Sam.
She smirked, though he couldn’t see it, and when she reached the back room’s doorway, she called out, “Hey, Mel, do ya have somethin’ to wrap his ankle with?”
“Whatdoya think I was gettin’?” The old woman shoved a basket at Shara. Inside lay a variety of cloth bandages and a bit of needle and thread. When Shara raised an eyebrow at the bar matron, the old woman said, “Never know whenna need t’sew together someone.”
“Ya get that kinda action often?”
The old woman stared at Shara. “You ain’t never seen this town when them trade caravans come jollyin’ through. People and their money. Ain’t nothin’ makes people fight more.”
For a moment, Shara hesitated. When did the first caravan come through? Would it be before or after the baby was born? Flashes of Shara’s mother ran across her memories, and she tried and failed to push them aside. She was willin’ to sell herself to Lady Essia if it meant bein’ able to feed Bredych and me. What would I do to keep this child safe?
Mel rest a hand on her arm. “You okay, hun?”
“Yeah. Just got lost in thought for a minute.” Basket in hand, Shara returned to Sam’s side. Maybe it was her muscular frame, but thus far, her belly didn’t keep her from most movements, though crouching was rather slow. With his help, she removed Sam’s boot, then pulled a length of cotton from the basket. With more than a few grunts, she secured his ankle and handed him his boot. “Ya need to stay off it for a bit. Maybe find ya a bit o’ wood to use as a crutch for a time.”
Magic Underground: The Complete Collection (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 4) Page 172
