"It is bad enough, and will require attention soon if you are not to lose too much blood," Shay said, standing and offering her a hand. "Can you stand?"
"Sure," she said, staring up at him, "but if you're a priest can't you just—"
He cut her off with a gesture then stooped to speak more softly. "Indeed I can, and I will, but not here. Rumors about us will already be spreading all over the city."
He helped her up amid the stares from the crowd. As they cleared the morbid throng and exited the tavern, the way was suddenly blocked by the burly man who had corroborated Shay's story. He stood once again with his arms crossed, but this time he wore a more tolerant, if not friendly, smile on his tanned face. Shay looked the huge man over, dropping a hand into his cloak. Avari met the man's gaze and found his eyes much friendlier than his manner, but also noted that they were fully a hand higher than her own, his shoulders almost half again as wide. Her hand drifted toward her sword hilt.
"It is a brave woman who would stand against four men, and a skilled one who would come away the victor." His voice was deep and melodious, with no hint of hostility. "I would speak with such a woman, if I may."
Avari started to reply, but was cut off by Shay's quick answer. "We were just leaving. Perhaps some other time."
"A woman who can wield a sword so should be allowed to speak for herself," the tribesman replied with a scowl at Shay.
The half-elf bristled at the man's tone, but Avari cut in quickly.
"My friend was merely looking out for my best interests," she said as she straightened, though still leaning on Shay. "But, in truth, we were just leaving. Perhaps later?"
"Tonight then, or as soon as may be convenient. I have business that may be of interest to you."
Avari looked to Shay, who shrugged. She realized that, her vengeance achieved, she had no immediate plans. She also had no money and no horses. There was no hope of her getting her horses back, and she would be reduced to selling her father's sword and most of her other possessions just for the trip back to the island. But all that awaited her there was a burned barn and an empty corral. No, she would need money to rebuild the farm, because she had no intention of parting with her father's blade.
"Very well. We're staying at the Roving Minstrel, four streets east of the wharves and two south of the boulevard. Tonight would be fine, around dusk."
The big man's smile widened; he gave them a respectful nod and moved aside. "Tonight at dusk, then."
Avari and Shay nodded farewell, and started up the street.
"Well," said Shay with a sidelong glance at his tall companion, "you seem to have made an impression."
She smiled, wincing as she took a step. "It's just my natural charm and good looks." For the first time in weeks, Avari laughed.
They stopped at a nearby inn, although Avari could not fathom why they rented rooms at an hourly rate. Then she caught the disgusting leer of the innkeeper when he asked if they wanted clean linens. She started to object, but Shay waved a hand to quell her fears.
"What the locals think is of little concern. We will be leaving the city soon, anyway."
They rented a room on the ground floor so Avari could avoid climbing stairs. The room was small but tidy, dominated by a thick bed with a sturdy oak frame. There were also two chairs, a small nightstand and a chest at the foot of the bed. Avari wrinkled her nose at the bed and sat in a chair. Shay grumbled as he examined the bloody wound, and Avari gritted her teeth at his probing. Finally he pulled a small curved blade from the folds of his cloak.
"I am going to have to cut away your leggings to get a better look. Once I am sure it is clean, I will cast a healing spell and it should not bother you any more."
Avari gasped in objection as he split the seam of her leggings from ankle to several inches above the gash in her thigh. "But these are new..."
"Unfortunately, they are also leather," Shay said as he wiped the dried blood from around the cut, "and unless you want them healed into your leg, they must be removed."
"Oh. Well, I..." Avari stared as Shay withdrew a silver medallion shaped like a small balance from beneath his tunic. She flinched as he placed it on the wound, but was surprised as the cool metal touched her. A tingle spread through her thigh as if it was asleep, and soft yellow light glowed from between Shay's fingers as he passed his other hand over the wound, mumbling words foreign to her ears. The pain subsided, and finally vanished. As he removed the medallion, Avari gasped in astonishment and stuck out her leg to examine the thin pink scar that was the only evidence of the deep gash.
"How..." Avari could not even finish her question, so amazed was she at the miraculous healing.
"Faith, Avari." Shay whispered. "Faith."
His strange tone drew her attention. He looked different, Avari thought. His violet eyes looked through and beyond her, and his enchanting smile had melted into a mien so solemn that Avari thought he might actually weep. She reached out to touch him, but before her fingers even brushed his cloak, he snapped out of his reverie and stood, the shield of his disarming smile once again flashing onto his features.
"Shall we be off?" he asked, whirling to gather his things. "I am simply famished, and we had better be finished with dinner before that walking mountain comes calling. I daresay he probably eats more than the both of us combined, and I am getting rather low on money." He hustled out of the room before Avari had a chance to say a word.
Avari had to trot to catch him and didn't even notice the innkeeper's lecherous leer as he eyed the muscular expanse of leg revealed by her slit breeches.
Shay hurried down the street, thankful for the cool snowflakes on his burning face. They melted to join the tears on his cheeks. The priest could hear Avari striding firmly behind him, her leg as good as new. He took a deep breath, mentally thanking Tem the Balancer that his prayer had been answered. If only he could be sure about the next time...
CHAPTER 8
The light and warmth of day were waning as Avari and Shay reached the Roving Minstrel. As Avari ran upstairs amid curious stares at the tattered remains of her pants, warmth and luscious scents drew Shay to the common room like a rising tide draws a ship into harbor. He secured a table near the fire, sat and stretched in his chair, propping his feet on the hearth and basking in the heat. Walking all day was something he was not used to. His boots were soaked through, his toes damp and cold, and his feet ached horribly.
Looking around, he realized that he sat at the same table where he had found Avari that first night. Was it only last night? It felt more like a week ago. But her problem was resolved now and she was free to start her life anew. That thought jerked the strings of his heart like an abused marionette; he was no closer to a new beginning for himself.
He closed his eyes, slipping into a soothing, meditative trance. Part of his fatigue was, he knew, the spell he had cast to heal Avari's wound. Tem granted the prayers of his devoted priests, but wielding that power came with a price. Meditation, rest and food would replenish his strength, and ready him to call on Tem's power once again.
Maybe, maybe not, a taunting little voice whispered in the back of his mind. You cannot worship more than one god.
With a twinge of guilt, he contemplated several spells that hovered near the back of his consciousness. These were not from Tem, but from the spell books hidden at the bottom of his pack. Not the power of a god, but power, nonetheless.
"A good evening to ya, sir."
The woman's voice cut into his thoughts like a blade. Shay opened his eyes to see one of the establishment's barmaids busily wiping his table. She smiled at him as she tidied up, paying so much more attention to him than to her work that she never even noticed the pile of crumbs she swept into his lap.
"Will ya be wantin' anything right off, or are ya waitin' for yer tall friend?"
Shay ordered an ale and something special for Avari, as well as dinner. He smiled at her then brushed the crumbs from his lap as she hurried off in a daze. His smile faded
as she left, and his hand strayed to his money pouch. He jingled the contents, then loosened the string and peered inside. The sum he had been given yesterday was half gone. He closed the bag and replaced it on his belt, chuckling with little humor. Money always seemed to slip through his grasp. Even when he had been getting steady pay as a member of a temple, he never seemed to have more than a few crowns to his name. At least this time the money had gone to a good, if not exactly noble, purpose.
Shay closed his eyes again and pictured the high priest of the local temple as he had seen him yesterday, standing with the coins in his hand, a curious look of sympathy and contempt on his face. "We are sorry, brother, but we can only accept those who are pure in their faith..." They called the money a stipend; more like a bribe to hasten his departure. So it had been in all the other temples. The rumor of his heresy had spread.
Doubts whirled through the priest's mind as he wondered how long it would be until even Tem the Balancer turned him away, refusing to answer his prayers.
When Shay opened his eyes, he saw Avari wending her way over to the table. She had changed into her old linen shirt and tunic and a pair of wool trousers. A pity her other clothes were damaged, Shay thought. She had painted quite the rakish picture in the frilly blouse and leather bodice, with the sword belt and scabbard to complete the picture. Almost like one of the southern pirates... He lowered his feet as she claimed the chair across from him, an expression of pure enthusiasm lighting her face.
"That spell of yours was wonderful! The scar is already fading, and even my bruised ribs feel better." Her words rattled off, her face aglow with excitement, as if she was still full of adrenaline and needed to rid herself of her nervous energy. "In fact, I feel better than I have in weeks."
"That may be a residual effect of the healing," Shay said with a smile. "I took the liberty of ordering us both dinner. You should eat heartily to replenish the blood you lost this afternoon. You were exceedingly lucky to have been wounded so slightly. It could have been much worse."
"Lucky?" Avari scoffed, propping her feet up on an empty chair. "I'd like to think that it was skill. I thought I did rather well for being outnumbered four to one!" She stretched and surveyed the crowd, missing the scowl on Shay's features.
"Look at your boots!"
Avari cocked an eyebrow at his harsh tone then glanced at her feet. The soft leather was caked with dried blood, black in the dim light of the fire.
"That could just as easily have been your blood, Avari. I am not trying to scare you, but if you plan to live the life of a warrior you must realize that sometimes skill is not enough."
"I'm not planning to live the life of a warrior," she said, forcing a grin. "I'm just going to get enough money together to make my father's—I mean, my ranch the kind of place I know it can be. I know that sounds like a lot, but all I really need is a good stallion, ten or twelve brood mares, and some money to rebuild the barn. Within a few years I could—"
"Here ya are then," the barmaid interrupted, delivering a huge tray which disgorged plates of steaming roast, a loaf of fresh bread with honey glaze, and two bowls of thick soup. She then placed a tankard of ale in front of Shay and a finely wrought bronze goblet in front of Avari. Avari stared at the engraved chalice then looked at the barmaid, who nodded toward Shay with a smirk then left in a swirl of skirts.
"What's this all about?" she said, eyeing the half-elf's growing smile.
"Just a little something to celebrate your victory." His stern mien melted to its usual soft lines and casual air. Perhaps lessons of this sort would come later; hopefully not too much later. "I think you might enjoy it. Go ahead."
She picked up the delicate goblet and peeked over the rim, jokingly skeptical of its contents. "It's not one of your potions, is it?" She took a careful sip and her eyes widened in delight.
"It's wonderful! What—"
"Apple wine," said Shay, wiping foam from the rich ale off of his moustache. "You mentioned cider earlier. I thought this might be a little closer to your taste."
"It's wonderful! Thank you," she said sincerely. Smiling, they toasted their success, and plunged into their meal.
Avari took another sip of wine and prepared to answer another of Shay's myriad questions about her plans for rebuilding the ranch, then stopped short. With his subtle probing, he knew all about her life, yet she knew nothing of his. She had accepted untold help from him, and had not even inquired about his interests. She felt ashamed, but was determined to make up for her delinquent manners.
"Enough about me," she said. "What will you do now? I don't even know what your business here was. You told me that you're a priest, but why are you trying to find a new temple? And where do you get your unlimited funds to bribe horse-sellers and buy apple wine for avenging women?"
Shay continued to eat, then raised his tankard to drink. Avari wondered if he was mad, or if she had finally uncovered his own secret.
"Did you confiscate your temple's hoard of gold?" she asked, smiling as he looked up to protest. "Or did your charm and good looks get you in trouble with the high priest's daughter?"
Avari jumped back, nearly knocking her chair over in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid the spray of ale. It took Shay a long moment to suppress his laughter, and even longer to wipe the spilled ale from his beard.
"No, it was nothing of that nature, I assure you," he answered. He handed Avari a clean napkin to wipe her tunic. "The disagreement originated over some books I was studying that were outside the sphere of acceptance of the elders." He did not elaborate, content to leave the subject at that, but Avari would have none of it.
"What kind of study wouldn't be acceptable to priests of Tem the Balancer? I thought priests were supposed to study."
"Those were my mother's thoughts when she gave me the books. Unfortunately, the high priest did not see it that way when I accidentally created a sudden downpour in my chambers. An entire wing of the temple had to be evacuated until the water could be mopped up." Shay chuckled at the memory.
"What were you trying to do, summon a demon or something?"
"Oh, by the gods, no! Nothing like that. I was just trying to understand a spell in one of my books. You see, they were heirlooms from my mother's family. She did not possess the gift to use them, but thought that I might have better luck. When my father found out, he forbade me to look at them, but mother finally coaxed him into letting me try to decipher some of the simpler spells. And I did!" Shay smiled smugly to himself.
"I had gained some proficiency and could cast several of the easier spells before I took a position at the temple. The elders didn't know of the books until my unfortunate accident, but then insisted that I stop studying them, sell the books and give the money to the church in atonement for sinning against Tem. I saw no reason to believe I had sinned—my faith remained strong, and Tem had never failed to answer my prayers—but they thought otherwise." Shay sighed. "My father is an elder of the church and I did not want to embarrass him, so I left to find a temple that would allow me to study and worship in my own way."
Avari had returned to her meal, but listened intently. "My father told me that priests didn't need books for spells, that their gifts were straight from their gods."
"And he was correct. These books were of arcane spells—the kind used by wizards."
Avari's eyes grew wide. Her throat was dry and she wet it with a sip of wine. She had met priests, of course; every town had priests. But a wizard... The closest she had ever come to one of those was in her father's tales.
"But my father said priests didn't—"
A stern glance from Shay silenced her, and a discrete nod brought her attention to the hushed room behind her. Avari chanced a look and saw that the burly tribesman had arrived and was drawing scowls from the innkeeper and several patrons. As the big man spotted them and began working his way through the crowded room, an aisle more than wide enough appeared before him. The small mountain of furs, leathers and weapons approached, gave a curt n
od to Shay and another to Avari.
"I have intruded upon your meal," he said, glancing at their nearly empty plates. "If you wish, I can come later."
"Oh, no. We were just finishing," Avari said, delighted that his manners did not match his rough appearance. "Please, sit and join us for a drink."
"I thank you," the tribesman said as he took a seat.
The barmaid hurried over, and the half-elf ordered ale for the big man and another round for Avari and himself.
"The cup you drink from is a rare work, lady," the tribesman said, indicating the bronze chalice. "It is northern. The dwarves of Dorelhar work bronze thus. Legend says that their king of old wrought a great axe of bronze that could never be dulled in battle. But the weapon was lost in the wars with the ice trolls. The king himself fell during the battles and is said to have taken his axe to the afterworld with him."
Avari smiled at the tale and drained her cup as the barmaid returned. The serving woman set a large pitcher of ale in the center of the table and filled Avari's cup from a chilled carafe. Shay lifted the pitcher and filled the big man's tankard, watching him with a little skepticism.
"You know a great deal for a simple tribesman," he said, topping off his own mug and setting the pitcher down.
Their guest took a healthy draught of ale and smiled coldly at Shay, not acknowledging the implied query. Avari fidgeted as she saw unfriendly looks pass between them. From her father's tales Avari knew that most of the nomadic tribes were suspicious of other races, especially ones that commonly dabbled in magic—namely elves. She could see the distrust in the tribesman's eyes as he looked across at Shay, with his pointed ears and arcanely decorated robes. As for the half-elf, he seemed annoyed and insulted by the brush-offs he was receiving from their guest. Avari decided to play mediator before their mutual suspicion grew into a firm dislike.
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