by Peter Dawes
The world around me had indeed changed. How much so, I had no notion of just yet. I felt it in my bones, though, and carried it with me as I slunk my way back into the inn and collapsed onto bed. It crept under my skin even as sleep threatened to overtake me. Something had invaded its way into me, foreign and yet, familiar at the same time.
I felt it tingle even with the first dreams I entertained for the day.
Chapter Six
While I had known many a woman to disappear in my time, I had never come upon one who could truly vanish. After rousing the next day, I risked discovery to wade through the market, hoping to find the sole witness to Sir Lawrence’s demise. Her lack of presence there didn’t surprise me entirely – it had been a whimsical prayer on my part that she would simply stand out from the crowd. The more I combed the town, however, the more I began to wonder if I had imagined the noble lady at his side.
If not for the presence of a burnt out residence, I might have suspected I made the entire thing up. Blending into the crowd who had gathered to behold the charred remnant of the house, I noticed that the fire had extinguished itself with the job of destruction half-finished. If he carried anything vital, it had been rendered into ash – and any sign of foul play would no longer be apparent on his corpse, which should have met with our client’s expectations. If I had to be honest with myself, my thoughts were not centered on the thoroughness of my job¸ though. Neither were they completely with Jane.
A shiver settled in my bones, amplified by the chill in the wind, while I recalled that sensation which had overcome me the night before. Taking a deep breath, I stared at my fingers as I released it, flexing each digit as though that might carry some clue with it. That sense of something having changed still lingered, with more secrets waiting to be shared. It was as though I had become aware of something taunting at me, lingering just out of sight.
“Are you a sorcerer?”
“Nonsense,” I murmured to myself, sighing and lowering my hand, looking up to gaze across the sea of faces once more. When I failed to spot Jane, I wandered off. My stomach had started to gnaw at me hours ago and my head swam with agitation, threatening to split in half if I deliberated on anything further. After eating, I waited for night to fall, tempted to pay for company if just to stop the wheels in my mind from turning. In the end, I determined not even carnal pleasures would do me any favors.
If I could just find her, and figure out what to do with her, then this would all surely pass. Or such is what I hoped, but one hour begat several more in its wake, each more frustrating than the last. Time passed at such a breakneck speed – evening giving way to night – that I began to think living in the shadow of a cathedral had granted the woman some favor with the Almighty. She was going to send me away empty-handed. I knew it and yet, wanted to spit when the next morning broke across the horizon. Daylight stole the last grains of the sand the hourglass had afforded me and I knew better than to risk arriving late.
The path leading out of Exeter bore extra stones, it seemed like, making the ride more bumpy than it had been days ago. Rest stolen along the way could hardly be accused for being refreshing, and my horse’s final strides back into town felt labored, as though the beast bore the weight of my folly and strained beneath it. I frowned when I arrived at the inn that night, hoping against hope that the man who kept my employ would spare me the wrath I knew I had coming to me. I had gotten distracted again, and could hardly argue my harrowing experience as any legitimate excuse.
He sat in his normal chair, though, as if expecting me.
A fire crackled in the hearth and several men remained embroiled in light banter while a cast of familiar faces aligned themselves around the wooden counter on the far end of the main room. I sighed as our eyes met – it would figure Roland chose that moment to peer toward the door – and the expression on his face gave all indication something had put him in a foul mood. Walking forward, I passed by where Paolo sat, clapping him on the shoulder as he worked on polishing off the rest of his supper. “Say a prayer for the condemned, amico mio,” I muttered to him as I walked away.
My best friend looked up, but I gave him no opportunity to respond. Making a deliberate show of my stroll up to Roland, I finished it off with an exaggerated bow only a scant few feet away from where he sat. “The deed has been accomplished as you have requested,” I said.
Roland’s shoulders lowered, but the look in his eyes still entertained skepticism like an old guest he had long forgotten how to dismiss. “Sit,” he said, extending a leg to kick a chair out for me. “I want details.”
“Very well.” Glancing down at the seat, I raised an eyebrow at it and fought the urge to reach for the edge of the table. Anything which gave away the knotting in my stomach would show my hand too soon and I knew better than to allow Roland any insight into my thoughts. As it stood, hours of travel had done nothing to help me determine what I might say to him. “What is it you want to know?”
If he noticed my unease, he gave no indication of it. “When? And is he dead or without a home?”
“Both, which means I doubt he minds what I did to his property. Sir Lawrence met with his timely end the evening before last.” A grumble interrupted me, my stomach picking that moment to protest the scent of food and my lack of provision. I sighed at it. “This place brings out the glutton in me.”
A smile cracked the corner of his lips. “I’d guess you hadn’t had a meal since this morning, but you’re always being led around either by your gut or your cock. Let me find where Mildred got to.” He pivoted in his seat, glancing around the sea of faces. I felt a lightness settle in the air that bordered on excessive, threatening to topple again at a moment’s notice. It was then that I realized how much my perceptions had colored the world around me, from the expression on his face to the tenor of the room. Even the way Paolo tried to get my attention in my periphery while Roland searched for the barmistress. One thing remained consistent through it all. I was being assaulted by my own conscience.
“Wait, Roland.” I spoke the words before I could stop myself and cursed them the moment they escaped my lips. Roland turned to face me again and I winced at the way he raised an eyebrow at me. “Before we summon food on my behest, we should discuss what happened further,” I explained.
“I’ll have you get into it more once you’ve been served supper, lad,” he countered. “There isn’t any sense you starving for the longer version of what you just told me.”
“Except that isn’t all that occurred the other night.” The confession prompted Roland to settle fully in his seat, his undivided attention focused on me. It summoned a flurry of nerves anew. “There was a lady. She looked to be of noble birth, at any rate. Our employers failed to mention he had taken up with company and she was present when he and I had our confrontation.”
“Confrontation?” Roland furrowed his brow before dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “What did you do with her?”
“You see, therein lies the conundrum.” Clearing my throat, I fidgeted in my seat, unable to hold back the compulsion any longer. “Lawrence came upon me in his library and she remained present as we fought. I bested him, of course, but as I attempted to sort out my next move, she ran off.”
“She ran off?” The repetition of what I had confessed bore a hint of incredulity to it. “Hitched up her skirts and fled into the streets?”
“Yes. She was out the door before I had even left the library.”
“A noble lady was faster than a long-legged slip of nothing like you? You expect me to believe this?”
“I suppose if won’t help when I say she vanished after that.”
“I’ll ask how much you’d had to drink before you set out that night.” Roland sighed, any humor he might have summoned falling away into the most disgusting form of concern I had ever seen dance across his emerald eyes before. “Christian, you best not be lying to me. If she was aristocracy, they’ll want your head. What in God’s name have you done?”
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Opening my mouth to speak once more, Roland lifted his hand to stop me from proceeding. He shook his head at me and frowned. “You bear our cloak,” he continued. “If they come looking for you, I’ll have no choice but to turn you over and they won’t accept anything less than your life. I mean it. I will not be able to hide you away without threatening us all.”
With a nod, I glanced away and said, “If you must, then you must.”
“No, I don’t think you’re getting what I’m trying to tell you. You’ve bent the rules near to breaking in the past, but you have a woman who can whisper in the right sorts of ears and she knows you wore a mercenary’s cloak. If she talks, there isn’t a story that can be spun that keeps you from being drawn and quartered. Christian…” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t you dare tell me this has anything to do with your little quest.”
I glanced back in his direction and held his gaze, weighing in my head what I should say. In some other reality, I saw myself confessing toward seeing the book, and fighting my way out of the clutches of death. I could hear my voice ringing in my ears, bearing the nervousness I felt over how I had freed myself, and how that feeling had attached itself to me ever since. Roland regarded me in silence, seeing the words lingering on my tongue and nearly willing them to life with his stare.
Shifting my attention away from Roland, I answered him only in silence. He sighed and shook his head, rising to a stand. “Eat a meal,” he said. “And gather your things. I want you out of my sight until I know they’re not coming for you.”
He motioned to walk away. I shot to my feet. “Where am I supposed to go?” I asked.
Roland paused, his back partly turned to me. I watched his shoulders lift and fall, the sound of him exhaling an unpleasant note of finality. “That’s your problem, not mine. Just tell Paolo where you wander off to, so I can fetch you.”
“Very well.” It was all I could think to say and yet, as Roland stormed for the stairs, I chewed on a thousand different responses, even after he had started his ascent toward the rooms. The sound of footfalls distracted me only enough for me to register Paolo in the corner of my eye. “What in the heavens am I to do?” I asked, caring very little for how crestfallen I sounded.
“Non lo so,” he said with a shrug. Paolo lifted a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Do you think you’re in any trouble?”
“I don’t think so. There didn’t seem to be any guards around the knight’s house looking for me, but Jane might not have told the authorities yet.”
The weight of Paolo’s gaze fell on me, compelling me to look his way. When he raised an eyebrow at me, I scoffed, shaking my head. “It isn’t like that,” I said. “Her knight referred to her by name.”
Paolo hummed noncommittally, sighing to chase away whatever had prompted the tacit accusation. “And she saw what you did?” he asked. “Did I hear you correct?”
“Witnessed the whole blessed thing. Is it too much to hope she was a figment of my imagination?”
A frown tugged at the corners of Paolo’s mouth as he considered something quietly for a few moments. Finally, he glanced back at me, a hint of resolve in his expression. “I will ride with you to your brother’s house. You can stay out of trouble there.”
“Not Jeffrey.” Groaning, I collapsed back into my seat, both palms pressing against my temples before sliding up into my hair. I felt the urge to grab handfuls and tug. “I think lingering here and awaiting my impending death might be a preferable fate.”
“Don’t joke about such things.” Paolo’s frown deepened.
I sighed at him. “I’m frightened,” I said, lowering my voice. “About a few things, some of which I don’t feel like discussing right now. My brother has no sympathy for any of that.”
Paolo shook his head and lowered into the chair where Roland had been sitting. “I know, but it might be for the best in other ways. It’s far away enough for me to have time to reach you before they do. If someone does come looking, we can get you somewhere safer.”
“Is any place safe when the aristocracy places a bounty on your head?”
“You’re asking me this question, amico mio?” My eyes met his in time for me to catch the solemn smile which traced across his lips. “There are many places you could hide if you needed to. The nobles are too distracted right now to look. You’re in danger if you stay, but not in so much in danger that you can’t run. I think Roland just wants you scared.”
“Well, I hardly needed his help.” For the second time that night, a full confession threatened to pour past my lips, suppressed only when I decided I didn’t have the energy to relate it. Instead, I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, in an effort to settle my nerves. “I saw that look, you know. You’re right, I did ask you that question, but I’ll ask another. You’ve had to run from home before, but this is my problem, not yours. Why should you bother saving me from it?”
My friend shook his head at me. “Non capisce una mazza,” he said, the tone of his voice soft and latent with exasperation. I furrowed my brow at the unfamiliar phrase as he sobered. “Eat something. Promise me you’ll tolerate your brother at least for a few days, si?”
“I will try, but I can’t guarantee anything.”
“No, of course you wouldn’t.” Paolo nodded at the door. “Meet me at the stables.”
I wanted to protest – asking if we might tarry long enough for me to get a decent night’s sleep – but the words locked up in my throat. I watched the way he stood, left bare by the concern in his gaze when he cast one last look back at me before trudging away. For just a moment, the concept of noble women and sorcerers drifted out of my mind, replaced by the image of my friend walking out of the inn, and the door swinging shut behind him. Taking a deep breath, I exhaled it slowly and summoned Mildred over to request a plate of supper.
My thoughts remained a muddled form of discord throughout the meal. As I slipped a few belongings into a bag, I included the spell book I had pilfered and sighed while slinging the strap over my shoulder. I found Paolo in the stables, readying Diavolo, and caught his gaze as I approached beside him. A silent discussion commenced in the look we exchanged. Even as I leaned close and kissed his cheek with reverence, I didn’t know what we had resolved in the tacit conversation, except that he felt closer to me in that moment than any time beforehand. He reached for my shoulder and patted it. “Come. Get your horse,” he murmured. “Let’s get you on your way.”
I nodded and turned for where I had secured Tempest, preparing her in silence and mounting her once I had secured my bag. For once, she behaved the first time I pulled at the reins and turned her to face the open doors leading out of the stables. We trotted up to Paolo’s side and he flashed a small smile at me before whistling at his horse. With a nudge, we took off, both steeds entering into a gallop at our behest.
Along the way, I fought the urge to doze, allowing my mind to roam wherever it pleased when Paolo and I weren’t engaged in conversation. We paused after dawn so I could splash some water on my face and picked a couple of apples. After stopping in a small village tavern for a meal, and to rest the horses, we pressed on as fast as the steeds would carry us for the remainder of the journey. By the time we arrived at Jeffrey’s farm, the sun had begun another dip in the horizon, leaving the sky a mixture of deep reds and purples, threatening toward dark.
I secured my horse in the barn and Paolo tied his gelding to one of the hitching posts near the house. It was as he had Diavolo secured that Jeffrey emerged from within, holding Ida in his arms. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and moved to close the gap between us. “Good evening, brother,” I said. Jeffrey furrowed his brow and clutched his daughter closer, almost spurring me to sigh. Even she didn’t know what to make of the sight of me so soon. “Rendering you mute is a rare treat. I should keep this in mind should I ever desire to do so again.”
Jeffrey frowned. “I have a hard time believing this visit is auspicious, Christian,” he said.
“Pleasant to see you, too.” Paolo assumed a position beside me, if just to scowl sternly at me and I sighed. My eyes shifted back to Jeffrey as I managed my best impersonation of chagrined. “I need to stay with you for a few days. I know this is abrupt, but I had nowhere else to go.”
Jeffrey furrowed his brow, studying me in silence until he finally set Ida down. The little girl lingered by her father’s side. “Should I ask what’s prompted this? Are you in some sort of trouble?”
“When am I not? At the same time, I’d rather not discuss it. Not until I’ve had a proper night’s sleep.”
“I suppose I can wait until morning.” His gaze shifted between Paolo and me before settling on my friend. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Jeffrey Richardson, Christian’s brother.”
“No, we haven’t,” Paolo said, closing the distance and extending a hand. His accent sprang fully to life, as it always did whenever he spoke his own name. “Paolo Bellini di Verona. Christian and I are friends.”
“A friend? I didn’t know Christian had those.” Jeffrey shook the extended hand, his gaze shifting toward the emblem on the other man’s cloak before he released his hold on Paolo. My brother paced backward a few steps, reaching for Ida and clasping his fingers around hers when she lifted her arm. “Will you be staying with us, too?”
My friend tensed. “I probably shouldn’t.”
“At least rest up for the ride back.” Whatever apprehension my brother fostered about having another mercenary under his roof, he seemed apt to attempt ignoring it. Instead, he nodded toward the house. “I’m afraid we only have the one other bed, but maybe Christian won’t mind sleeping on the floor, since he’s the one in trouble.”
