The Road To Avea

by Lynn Lorenz

  "Give me the money or I'll slit the bitch's throat."

  Stefan's eyes darted between Sarah and the man.

  "Now! Toss me the purse." The man pressed the tip into her skin and a thin warm trickle of blood ran down her neck, disappearing under the collar of her shirt.

  "Don't give him the money, Stef--" The man cut off her voice and her air with a jerk of his arm, squeezing her throat tighter. Struggling to drag air into her lungs, her body strained against the man's grip. She scratched at his arm and her feet scrabbled to find a foothold.

  Stefan's eyes focused on the man's face. "If you kill her, I will kill you right here. No trial, just me. Let her go and you'll go to gaol until the magistrate hears your case."

  Sarah blinked. Was Stefan trying to reason with the man? "Shoot him." Her voice came out as a squeak.

  Stefan's face was grim, but he still did nothing.

  Why was he just talking? She wanted to scream at Stefan. She'd have to act fast to save herself. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her skirt, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. Her fingers closed around the small knife she carried. She fumbled, trying to open it with one hand. The alley spun around her.

  "Back off, or else!" The bastard jerked her again, and stars exploded behind her eyelids.

  Sarah couldn't breathe at all now. The knife opened in her pocket. She turned it in her fist. Struggled to pull it from her skirt. With the last of her strength, it came free and she buried the small blade in his side. He released her as he reached for the knife, bellowing like a wild bull.

  She fell to the ground on her hands and knees, dragging air into her burning lungs. He jerked out the blade and then collapsed on his back. Stefan's heel came down on the man's wrist and the knife fell loose. Stefan kicked it away and it skittered down the alley.

  Blood began to pool beneath the man as he moaned in pain. Sarah climbed to her feet, leaning against the wall as she massaged her throat with one hand.

  "Sarah, what have you done?" Stefan took her by the arms and shook her.

  "I must've hit a large vein." It came out as a croak. Her throat burned and it seemed no matter how much she tried to swallow, even her own spit wouldn't go down.

  The man had stopped moving. She pointed to him. "He'll bleed to death if we don't stop it." It was barely a whisper and she prayed he hadn't damaged her voice permanently.

  Stefan knelt next to the bleeding man and rolled him on his side to get a better look at the injury. Blood pumped freely from the wound. Sarah pulled off her kerchief, handed it to him, and he applied pressure to staunch the flow.

  "Call for help. Ask for a healer right away." Stefan barked at her.

  She went to her knapsack where it had fallen to the ground and pulled out the mirror case, opened it, and called for assistance.

  "Avea, Tallow here." Her rasping voice shook.

  "Tallow, this is Avea. Speak up. I can barely hear you."

  "Inspector Bane and I are in the alley between the main street and the marketplace." She tried to clear her throat. "We need a healer right away. We have a man here bleeding badly."

  "Aye, we'll send some men and a healer."

  A few moments later, there was a change of pressure and two uniformed men appeared in the alley. A minute later, another man appeared, dressed in a dark wool jacket and trousers, carrying a black satchel. He knelt next to the man and examined the wound.

  "Who did this?" He looked up at Sarah and Stefan.

  "I did, sir." Sarah held the knife in her hand, stained with the man's blood.

  The two officers watched, their eyes wide, as the healer tried to stop the blood flowing from the man's side.

  "Here's the knife he used to attack us with." Stefan pulled the men to the side as he pointed to the knife on the ground. They picked it up, conjured a small cloth bag, and placed it inside for evidence.

  Wrapping her arms around herself to control her shaking, Sarah watched the healer work. He opened his satchel, extracted a box, and opened it, revealing a set of small wands. Each wand was a different type of wood, a different length and color. Selecting one, he pressed it deep into the wound and concentrated. He pulled it out, wiped the wand off with a cloth, and replaced it in the box. Choosing another wand, shorter than the first, he sealed the cut. The tip of the wand glowed as he touched it to the unconscious man's skin. The wound sealed and the bleeding stopped.

  "He'll live." The doctor stood, gave Sarah a look of disgust, then addressed Stefan. "I'll 'port him over to the infirmary at headquarters, Inspector. You can question him later."

  Then, taking a deep breath, he rounded on Sarah. "I don't know who you are, but let me tell you something. The Avalon Patrol doesn't condone the use of knives. I will be filing a complaint with your Chief Inspector against you, Patroller, for resorting to its use. You're just lucky I arrived in time. You could be up on murder charges." He snapped his case shut and 'ported away with the wounded man.

  It felt like he'd slapped her. Her mind reeled. Had he said "murder charges"? For defending herself?

  The two patrollers flanked her, scowling at her, as one of them held out a cloth bag. Sarah, stunned, dropped the knife into it. For a moment, she wondered if they would summon manacles and arrest her. Mercifully, they 'ported away.

  Silence fell. She and Stefan stood alone in the alley. Her gaze locked on the pool of blood where the man had fallen. Vaguely, she thought someone should clean that up as her stomach dropped out from under her. What was wrong with her? She'd seen blood before, certainly more than this puddle.

  Raising her eyes to Stefan's face, she looked for some sign of assurance from him. Some kind word. Anything. Pain and anger etched lines on his face that weren't there before. Stefan looked down at his hands, still clenched into fists, and then his gaze rose to meet hers.

  "Patroller Sarah Tallow, you are suspended from duty until further notice."

  Chapter 12

  Shutting the door to his room, Stefan leaned against it. Her image burned in his mind. Her furious face and her eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.

  "Suffering bastard, I can't stand this. What is wrong with me?" He ran his hand over his face, feeling the burn of his whiskers on his palm.

  She'd needed him at that moment. Her eyes had told him that. Instead, he'd pushed her away and condemned her. He hadn't been able to rescue her or keep her safe. Once again, he'd failed her.

  He jerked off his rumpled jacket.

  "Firestone!" His hands rubbed his temples.

  "Aye, sir!" Firestone appeared before him and then took a step backward, making a face. "By the flame be damned, what is that stench?"

  "These clothes," Stefan said. "I was in disguise." He sat on the edge of the bed.

  "As a pig farmer or the pig?" Firestone smirked as he began to unlace Stefan's boots and pull them off.

  Stefan was too tired to glare at his servant. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. Damn, his head pounded.

  "Fresh from the market, with ready gold to gamble and to catch a cutthroat." He wiggled his freed toes, crammed in the boots a half size too small for a couple days. He stood and began to strip the offending clothes from his body, jerking them off, not caring if they ripped.

  "Smells like fresh from the pig's pen." Firestone smirked at his favorite charge, then he froze, holding the muddy work shoes in his hand.

  "Sir, did she see you in this disguise?" The reproach in his voice told Stefan that the addler hoped the answer was no.

  "She was with me." Racing on horseback down the road to Avea. He could see her sleeping next to him in the hay and saw her as she laughed at him falling on his ass in the middle of that damned pigpen.

  Stefan reached up to pull off the leather strap that held his hair and the strands fell loose, damp, and stringy.

  "I'm so sorry, sir."

  Firestone went into the bathroom, ran the water for the tub, and came out, waving his hand at the reeking pile of clothes, which disappeared, never to
return.

  "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters." After walking naked to the soaking tub, Stefan lifted his legs over the edge, and slid down. The hot water began to loosen the dirt that crusted parts of his body and the smell lessened.

  "You were gone overnight, sir. Did you at least kiss her?" There was hope in his voice.

  "No, I did not kiss her! We were on a mission, not out for a stroll in the moonlight," Stefan snapped. He'd had the chance, but had been too much a coward.

  "Perhaps, you will get anoth--"

  "I suspended her from duty, Firestone." He closed his eyes, seeing her face and that bastard holding the knife to her throat, while she courageously told him to shoot the man whether she was killed or not. Could he ever forget the terror in her eyes as the man choked the life out of her? Stefan flung his arm across his face in misery.

  "You what?" Firestone yelped. "Oh, sir, that is not the best way to convince a female to be yours. I've always found being pleasant helps a great deal. Smelling good, too."

  Raising his arm enough to peek from under it, Stefan glared at his servant. "I think I have that part figured out, Firestone."

  Picking up the soap, Firestone sat on the edge of the tub, lathered a cloth, and handed it to his charge. Stefan vigorously scrubbed his leg.

  "I had no choice. Really. As her commanding officer, the situation called for me to take measures..." Stefan muttered, rubbing ever harder, furious at himself and at her.

  She was so damn stubborn, so damn independent, and so damn brave. He knew in that moment what he'd fought against admitting since he'd first seen Sarah.

  He'd fallen in love with her.

  "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" The addler's disgust showed on his face as he crossed his arms and regarded Stefan. "What will you do now?"

  Stefan didn't answer. He knew he'd lost whatever slim chance he'd had with Sarah. He washed his head with renewed vigor working the lather into froth, taking the last of the stench away.

  Firestone leaned forward with an exasperated sigh, and dumped a large pitcher of cold water over Stefan's head.

  * * * *

  "Won't you take some tea, miss?" Tandy held out the cup to Sarah, in hopes she'd take in some nourishment, but Sarah only sighed and shook her head. She hadn't spoken, eaten, or even moved from the chair she'd thrown herself into after she'd returned to the castle. She and Stefan had come in together and then, giving him a last angry look, she'd run up the stairs and all the way to her quarters. The slamming of the door had echoed across the east wing of the second floor.

  "It's all over the castle, miss, about your suspension. I'm so sorry. I never trusted that Inspector Bane. It's his eyes, I think..."

  Sarah wished Tandy would just shut up. All she wanted was to be left alone.

  Sarah pictured his eyes. The fury in them as she told him of her father and the dark lord, followed by the joy as they raced on horseback. She'd hoped she'd have another chance to see the aching tenderness in them, like when he woke her that morning in the barn. She'd never forget his anger and disappointment when he gave the order to suspend her.

  "At least, take those wretched clothes off, miss. You've been in them for far too long." Tandy knelt next to the chair and pleaded with her.

  Without speaking, Sarah stood and let Tandy undress her, and then lead her to the bath. She sat on the edge of the tub while the water rose, hot and steamy, and smelling like lavender from the bath salts.

  Slipping into the tub, she slid under the water, soaking her hair and then came up, and laid her head back against the tub. Her throat still hurt. It was bruised, mottled green and yellow, and would be black and blue by morning. It was nothing compared to her heart.

  How could she have let herself fall in love with him?

  Now, everything she'd worked so hard for was in jeopardy. There was no going around this. She would probably lose her commission and the unfairness of it all burned in her. She'd known she couldn't trust a man. Why had she even tried?

  In truth, she had willingly betrayed herself. For what? He'd offered her nothing, gave her no hopes, made her no promises. This was all her fault.

  No tears escaped her eyes. Hard times both on and off-world had taught her that much. Sarah cried on the inside. On the outside, she rebuilt her fortress, stone by stone, brick by brick, over herself, never, ever to crack, shift, or to let some man betray her again.

  * * * *

  Damon Thatcher turned the last page of the report over and groaned. As usual, Stefan's report was thorough and meticulous. He had caught his man, but lost the woman. Damon leaned forward, tossing the report onto his desk, and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

  "What are you going to do, Damon?" Mercy sat on a chair across from his desk.

  "Begin the inquiry. I've already received the complaint by Doctor Walton and a letter from headquarters."

  "But what are you going to do?" Her gray eyes searched his face. "Can you salvage anything? Her career at least? You must leave her that."

  "I have to hear their testimony individually." He sighed. "Then I'll do what I can within the bounds of our policy."

  "If I can make a suggestion?" She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him.

  "Anything, please, my love." His eyes begged her for help. This was all his doing, bringing Sarah here, assigning Stefan to train her, forcing him to take her on the assignment.

  "Perhaps you should hear their testimony together."

  "At the same time?" He scratched his chin, through his beard.

  "Firestone told Moss who told Gustav who told me"--she explained the links in the addler gossip chain--"that Stefan is in bad shape. He hasn't left his quarters since yesterday. Tandy told Fleur who told Pansy who told Gustav that Sarah refuses to speak or eat, but sits in her chair by the fire."

  "Damn. What is wrong with those two?" He pounded the desk with his fist.

  "He chose the patrol over the woman he loves--that is his torment. She has been betrayed again by a man she loves." Mercy sat back and looked at Damon.

  "Perhaps together would be better, but I'm not sure I see how."

  "Well, at least they'd be in the same room, listening to each other, whether willingly or not."

  "Aye. Gustav!"

  "Sir!" The addler appeared.

  "Have both Bane and Tallow report to me at four o'clock today and make sure Bane gets here first."

  "Aye, sir!" His words hung in the air a moment after he was gone.

  Mercy stood, went around the desk, and wrapped her arms around Damon. She leaned over and kissed his cheek as he stroked her arm. Small comfort, for the man who had held so many hopes for two of his officers.

  * * * *

  "Look, miss, you have a letter from Miss Luci!" Tandy appeared later that afternoon, waving the letter in her hand. Sarah sat up, took it from her, and opened it.

  Dearest,

  I am coming, if it suits you, this week. I will 'port as far as Chester, but after that, can you send someone to bring me to the castle? Someone interesting, dearest.

  I miss you and hope this note finds you well.

  Your friend,

  Luci

  She'd forgotten she'd invited Luci to Avalon.

  "I'll write her back after I've seen Thatcher." She stood and walked to the armoire and opened it, pulled out a uniform, and handed it to Tandy. "I have to be there at four."

  Sarah wondered what her fate would be and if she'd even have a position after this meeting was over. She'd go back to Avea, to Luci, and decide what to do with her life then, not now. Now, she could barely think, much less decide her future.

  * * * *

  "I read your report, Inspector, and it's very thorough, as always." Damon looked over his glasses at Stefan sitting in the chair, looking very tense.

  "It's all there." Stefan nodded at the report Damon held in his hand.

  "Is it now?" Rubbing his beard, he looked at the report. He knew Stefan's talent for reports. After all, he'd read all of them
over the last twenty years. "It says you got the pig from Mallory. Good man, glad he could help."

  "I got a fair price for him at the market."

  There was a knock on the door.

  "Come in." Damon sat back, tapping his pen on the open report.

  Sarah opened the door, stepped in, and froze. Stefan sat in the chair, his eyebrows raised in surprise. She turned away to face Thatcher and gave him a bow, her hand over her heart.

  "Sit down, Sarah. I was just going over Inspector Bane's report." He pointed to the chair next to Stefan.

  "I'm sure all the facts are there." She sat, straightened her skirt, and folded her hands in her lap.

  "Indeed. Well, as I was saying, it says here that you spent the night in the stable, Stefan, but where did Sarah sleep?" He looked down at the report and then up at Stefan.

  "She was offered a bed in the house," Stefan said.

  Damon was aware he hadn't actually answered the question. "And that Sarah drove the pig to Avea?"

  "The pig and I didn't get along." Stefan shifted in his seat.

  Sarah looked at her boots.

  "Now, once you were in the alley, the man attacked you both, right?"

  "That's right."

  "Together? You must've been standing very close." Damon stared at Stefan.

  "Well, yes, we had stopped to talk." Stefan glanced sideways at her. "He caught me by the arm and swung me around. He had the knife out. When I punched him, he didn't drop it, but began his attack."

  "Where was Sarah?"

  "She was behind me."

  "Behind you? Hiding?" Damon's eyebrows shot up.

  "No, sir!" Sarah sat up. "Stefan had pushed me away and ordered me to leave if he were unable to stop the man."

  "But you didn't leave, did you?" Damon leaned back. "You disobeyed a superior officer. Again."

  Stefan glanced at Sarah.

  "Yes, sir. I knew he'd need my help." Sarah held up her chin and met Damon's gaze.

  Stefan sat up. "You what? Knew I needed help? How did you come by that deduction, Sarah?"

  "Well, by the way the man held the knife and the way his body moved. He'd been trained, Chief Inspector, in the techniques of knife fighting. I didn't think Stefan had been trained to defend himself against that sort of attack."