by Lynn Lorenz
"There, that's got it. Try not to get tangled up again." He tossed the branch aside and held out the scarf to her.
"Thank you, Inspector." She reached for it, and their fingers touched. A jolt ran through her like nothing she'd ever felt before. She looked up into his eyes as he stared down at her. For a second, his eyes fell on her lips. Time froze. Unable to stop herself, she lifted her chin.
He cleared his throat. "We're wasting time. Let's be on our way." He turned from her.
She bit her lip. Did she really think he would kiss her? Damn it, she wanted him to kiss her. If it had been Gareth, he'd have taken full advantage of the situation, swept her into his arms, and kissed her. Any red-blooded male would have taken that opportunity, wouldn't he ?
The blinding light of realization hit her in the face.
Inspector Stefan Bane wasn't interested in her.
Shaken, she picked up the reins of her mare and followed him to the road, where they mounted. Sarah resolved to put him out of her mind and concentrate on the mission.
* * * *
They rode the horses at a walk, the soft plop of the horses' hooves in the dirt and their blowing the only sounds.
"Do you miss off-world?" His deep voice broke the silence of the ride.
"Well, I miss Emily, the woman I lived with."
"I understand you couldn't practice majik there?" He was curious about off-world, a place most majik folk feared and very few had visited. "Is it true? What they say?"
"It's true. No majik under pain of death."
"Can I ask why you left our world? The chief mentioned some problem with your family."
By the look on her face, he knew she was deciding whether to tell him of her past.
"With my father, actually. He wanted me to marry. I refused." She shrugged.
"You abandoned on-world just because you didn't want to marry?" That puzzled Stefan. "Was it the man or marriage you objected to so strongly?" If it was marriage, do you still object to it?
"The man was very evil and as old as my father. I was eleven." Her voice grew hard as she spit the words out.
"By the One God! What was your father thinking? You were a child." Stefan's mind flashed on his father, long dead, but never forgotten. Never forgiven.
"Even then, I knew why he wanted me." She looked down at her hands, clutching the leather reins tight.
"I've heard there were such men, such depravity, but..." His voice faded. Not even when he was on the dark path, the year he ran with Marsh Waterford's bravos, had any of them stooped to such disgusting and immoral behavior. There had been plenty of whores and wenches, but none of them had ever touched a child.
"My mother and I decided I should hide, but we knew my father would find me on-world, no matter where I went. Off-world was our only hope. We never thought it would last almost twenty years and I would never see her again."
Stefan, desperate to know what he could about her, tried to sound as if he were just holding a normal conversation, but, she was a mystery he wanted to solve. Maybe then he could put her from him. "The Chief mentioned a mark?"
He saw her body tense. She didn't turn to face him when she spoke at last, bitterness seeping through her words. "We were to marry when I reached the age of fourteen. I disappeared three months before my thirteenth birthday."
"But marriage that young is not legal."
"I don't think that mattered to either of them. He burned his mark on my back, so there could be no switching girls. My own father held me down." She spoke in a hoarse whisper, as if squeezed out of her constricted throat.
It was unimaginable to burn a child that way. He'd chosen to endure the pain of his mark. Had stood upright, his chest and back stripped bare and allowed the Sorcerer to mark him with a brand glowing red-hot from the coals of their campfire. He could still remember the smell of burned flesh and how he'd struggled just to stay conscious and on his feet.
"Bastards!" The curse slipped from his mouth, almost a whisper. He was furious at her father and the man who had marred her perfect body.
"Aye, bastards." Her echo was harsher. Then, she called out, "Let's ride!"
Leaning forward, she whipped her horse with her reins and gave it a sharp kick. The mare took off at a gallop.
Stefan's eyes burned as he kicked his heels into his mount and took off after her.
Together, two tails of black hair flying, they crouched over their horses' necks and raced down the road to Avea.
* * * *
Rolf stood at the edge of the road and looked into the woods. It was a place he'd called home years ago before coming to Avalon, and now it seemed foreign and dangerous.
Not that he was afraid of what the forest held, but of what it had meant to him those many years ago when he was a wretched scrap, desperately holding onto what was left of his humanity.
Taking a deep breath, he entered the forest, picking his way through the brush and trees, skirting the rivulets of water, moving as silently as a deer. It was second nature to him, to watch every step, listen with both ears, and to stop and scent the wind.
He'd found the stream and followed it deep into the heart of the woods, into the heart of the pentagram. In themselves, the woods held no evil, but this man was surely using the woods for his obscene purposes. Surprised it angered him, Rolf hated that the man had perverted these woods, his former home, to his twisted use.
If he remembered right, the deadfall should be around here. He'd been making ever-tighter circles in order to cover the most ground in his search.
Rolf stopped before the great tangle of dead wood, branches, and gray-green ivy and sniffed the air. He'd come to take for granted the heightened sense of smell he'd had since his turning and often he ignored it. Today, he embraced it.
Nothing. No odors that shouldn't be there, only the trees, the musky smell of dead leaves, mud and rotting matter, and the sounds of birds, insects and the scrape of branch on branch, the rustle of leaves in the soft wind.
He walked around the great mound of forest debris, scenting the air like an animal. Blood. His senses jerked. Looking carefully at the deadfall, he saw a dark spot--a small opening. Stooping, he looked into it, dark and gaping.
Rolf crawled on his hands and knees into the heart of the deadfall and found a clearing. He stood, brushed off his pants, and looked around.
Four saplings stood in the center of the cleared space. Shards of cloth were tied to the base of each tree. He knelt down, fingering the material, and then touched his fingers to his lips. Blood. The metallic taste filled his mouth. For a moment, he savored it on his tongue, and the hair on the back of his neck rose. Shaking his head, he tamped down his other nature. He'd let it out too far; let it overpower his humanity.
Looking around, he found several leaves caked with a dark substance. Touching a finger to the leaf, Rolf rubbed his fingers together, then brought it to his tongue to taste. More blood. He'd found the place. The bastard had brought at least one of the victims here, if not all. Seized with an urge to destroy everything, including the deadfall, he pulled out his wand, but, with a deep breath, his reason returned.
If he watched this place, he might return, perhaps to prepare for his next victim. The idea sickened him. The entire clearing and its perverted use revolted him.
Here is where the man marked the girls, using those dark runes.
To what purpose? Stefan had said some of the runes were supposed to hold great power. But to what end? A ceremony, of some sort? There was more Stefan wasn't telling him. He'd have to speak to him again and he wasn't looking forward to that at all.
Searching, he found nothing, no clues, not even a scrap of the girls' clothing or hair. He was thorough...he'd give the bastard that much.
Rolf held out his wand, closed his eyes and 'ported back to Avalon.
* * * *
Late in the afternoon, the horses plodded up the lane to the farm, as a small lad came to greet them.
"Inspector Bane! Glad you've come! Father ha
s everything ready for you." The boy was no more than ten. He looked up at Stefan, admiration in his young brown eyes as he ran alongside the horse.
"Is this your lady, sir?" The boy stared at Sarah. "She's very beautiful."
Stefan looked down to hide a rueful smile and then looked at the boy. "No, boy. She's a patroller, serving with me." He swung his leg over and slid off the horse.
The boy looked up at Sarah. "I meant no disrespect, miss." He paused. "But you could find no better man than Inspector Bane."
Sarah smiled at the boy. "Of that, I have no doubt, young sir." Turning as she dismounted, she saw Stefan's eyes widen at her words. Their eyes locked across the backs of their mounts.
The father, a man about five years younger than Stefan, came out of the small cottage, as the boy led the horses away to tend them.
"Inspector, welcome." He held his hand out for Stefan to take and they clasped hand to forearm, in the patrol grip. Sarah noticed his left arm hung useless at his side.
"Mallory, it's good to see you. I hate to be a burden to you--" Stefan began, but the man cut him off with a wave of his good hand.
"No burden, sir. Who is this? In your note you didn't say you'd married." The man the man beamed at Sarah, and she blushed.
I shouldn't be so pleased to be mistaken for his wife.
The look of pain that crossed Stefan's face drained the color from her cheeks.
"This is Patroller Sarah Tallow. She's my counterpart on this assignment."
She shook hands with Mallory, not knowing if it was his first or last name. "Thank you for your hospitality," Sarah said.
"Come inside. It'll be dark soon. I have dinner ready."
After a simple dinner of stew, they sat on the porch watching the sun set behind the woods. Sarah rocked in a rustic oak chair as Mallory told how he had built it for his wife the first year they were married, in anticipation of the birth of their son. Stefan and Mallory sat on the steps of the porch. Tommy climbed a nearby tree.
When the insects started their night songs and it was almost too dark to see, Mallory called the boy out of the tree. He lit two lanterns and they all returned to the large room of the cottage that served as kitchen and living room.
"Have you known the inspector long, miss?" Tommy asked, as he sat on the floor by his father's feet, having given up his spot on the loveseat to Sarah and Stefan.
"Only a little while."
"Are you attached to someone, then?"
"Son, don't ask those questions," Mallory admonished the boy.
"Sorry, miss." He ducked his head.
She sipped her tea and didn't answer. Stefan looked into the fireplace. The silence stretched.
"How do you know Inspector Bane?" Sarah asked Mallory.
"Served with him, I did, at Avalon. Oh, three years ago, it was." He took a sip of his tea. "Until I was injured." He looked at his arm and shrugged.
"It was dark majik!" Tommy's face was fierce.
"If it weren't for the inspector coming to my aid, I'd have been done for, that's for sure." Mallory shook his head. "I was just a patroller, like you, and my wand was not powerful enough to block the bolts Blackmoor gave me."
"Blackmoor?" Sarah stopped rocking.
"Aye, Lord Blackmoor...he runs most of the district's crime. We raided one of his gambling houses and in the fight I was injured by that devil himself." Mallory's voice lowered, and she couldn't mistake the hatred in it.
She felt a chill go through her and pulled the shawl tighter. "I'm so sorry."
"It's alright. I have my pension, Damon Thatcher saw to that, and I'm back at my own home with my wife and son. It's a good life." He touched his son's head.
"Where is your good wife?" Sarah hadn't seen the woman, but the place was tidy and kept as if she was there.
"At her mother's, who's been ill."
"Did you send her to the healer I told you about?" Stefan asked.
"Indeed I did, sir. He took her right away, as soon as she said your name." The grin lit his face.
"Did he now?" Stefan seemed surprised and pleased at the same time.
"Doctor Burris was a great help. Cured her right away and at little cost. Now Mary is merely making sure her Ma is settled before she returns."
"I miss her, Da." Tommy sighed. "She always read to us in the evening."
Mallory smiled. "I don't read very well, so the boy misses his story."
"What about you, miss? Do you read?" Tommy asked.
Sarah could see the hope in his eyes. "Aye. Would you like me to read some of your story?"
"Oh, that would be fine. Can she, Da?" Tommy jumped up and ran to a small shelf, picked up a book, and brought it to Sarah without waiting for his father's nod.
"I know this story," she said. "My mother read it to me when I was a child. Here, let me sit next to you, so you can see the pictures." Sarah slid off the loveseat and sat on the floor, next to Stefan's booted feet. Tommy plopped down beside to her.
After he showed her where they had stopped, she began to read. Stefan gazed into the fire, listening to her voice fill the cabin. He glanced down. Her braid rested on the seat, the tail end of it curled in a loose circle.
Moving his hand, he rested it near the tress. His long fingers reached out to touch her hair. It was like silk, soft, smooth, and cool between his fingers. Feeling a stirring in his loins, he released the strands, placed his hand on his leg, and tried to listen to her read.
It was a common children's story of heroes, quests, and beautiful princesses. The boy knew it and so did Sarah. Even Mallory's lips moved as Sarah read the words. Casting his memory back, Stefan couldn't remember the story. There were no bedtime stories at his house. His mother had no time for such foolishness, as she had put it. A deep sadness took him and he stared into the fire.
Sarah finished and closed the book. Tommy's eyes were nearly closed and his head rested on her arm. "He's about out."
"Well, we should turn in, Mallory. We need to be up early in the morning," Stefan said.
"Aye, and I've got the item you asked for, but we'll see it in the morning. Now, about the sleeping arrangements. I have the boy's bed and the stable." He nodded in its direction.
"Patroller Tallow will take the bed. I'll be in the stable." Stefan decided for them.
"We'll both take the stable, Mallory. We're used to barracks life. I think it would be more proper with respect to your good wife." More than anything, Sarah wanted to be away from the cottage.
Mallory grinned. "Thank you. If my Mary were to see you and know such a beautiful young woman was sleeping in the same house..." He shook his head and laughed.
Sarah kept her eyes on her hands.
Mallory stood, picked up his son and took him to his room.
"Right, then." Stefan stood and extended his hand to her.
She took it, and he pulled her to her feet, then let go. Without a word, he led Sarah to the stable.
Mallory had laid out blankets and a pillow on one side of the stall. Cleaned out, it had a thick layer of fresh straw laid down. Stefan lit a lantern and hung it on the stall door.
Sarah handed him a blanket and spread hers out. He gave her the pillow. She took off her boots, lay down on one side of the blanket, and pulled the other side over her. With the thick bed of straw, it was quite comfortable. Stefan did the same, on the other side of the stall. With a wave of his hand, he doused the flame of the lantern.
"Good night, Sarah." Stefan's voice floated out of the darkness, bathing her in its warm timbre.
"Good night, Stefan." She had questions she wanted to ask, but decided that this was not the place or time. Instead, she lay there wishing he were next to her, instead of on the other side of the large stall.
* * * *
How would he ever get to sleep with her so close? Despite the clothes she wore and the fresh straw, her scent filled his chest as he inhaled. He'd almost given into his urges and kissed her at lunch when her scarf had tangled in the branch. He'd never wanted
a woman so badly and as he'd felt his body respond to her, he'd known he had to get away from her fast. And tonight, he'd been embarrassed to say she wasn't his, that he was alone and unloved.
He should be happy with the little boons he did have, and he knew he'd never forget the way her hair had felt in his hand.
Listening to her steady breathing in the dark, his eyes closed. She'd caught him in her room, but had said nothing to Thatcher. She'd even said she'd considered just letting him sleep there the whole night. What would she say if she knew he'd been in her room again? Her chair had proven quite comfortable and her fire seemed warmer than his.
Why did he find peace so easily when he was with her?
* * * *
Stefan knelt in the hay, took a strand of her dark hair in his hand, and watched Sarah sleep. Waking up every morning by her side must be what happiness would feel like.
"Sarah, wake up. It's morning." Stefan's voice, soft and deep, woke her.
"I'm awake, Stefan." She rubbed her eyes and yawned. After stretching like a cat, she sat up. His blanket hung over the rail and he was dressed. She slipped into her boots, stood, shook her blanket out, and hung it up with his.
They sat on bales of straw and ate the rest of the bread and cheese, and drank strong, hot tea he'd brought up from the cottage. Taking turns, they went outside to use the outhouse behind the cottage. It was a small treat for Sarah not to use the shrubbery.
The rest of their belongings went into bags worn slung across their backs. From here, they would walk to Avea, just a few miles up the road.
Leaving the barn, they met Tommy in the yard.
"Come see, Inspector. She's a beauty, she is." The boy jumped around, unable to contain his excitement and pride. "I raised her all by myself."
Stefan and Sarah followed the boy around to the large pen. The biggest pig she had ever seen lay on its side in the muck. It must have been five feet long and stood at least three-and-a-half feet high. She could only guess at its weight. Mallory and his son stood by the gate of the pen.
"She's beautiful, aye." Stefan smiled at the boy. "Mallory, it's too much."
