Barb Hendee: Thief of Lives

"Don't ask. I'll explain later," he said before she could cut into him.

He wanted to absolve her of any mundane duties and could see that she desperately needed time alone.

"I'll take the wagon," he added, "and gather our things. You head out and follow the main route through the central land side gate. If I don't catch you beforehand, wait for me at the first inn that's on the main road outside the city's reach."

Magiere relaxed a little. Nodding once, she turned and headed up the street without even a good-bye to the sage or the boy. She paused once to look back at Leesil and then was gone.

"Get in the wagon, and I'll take you back to the barracks," Leesil told Wynn and Vatz. "I have one more favor to ask."

He called to Chap, who was exchanging sniffs with the horses, and the hound ducked around back of the wagon to hop up beside the boy and the sage.

It was a short ride, and, with Wynn's help, they transferred Leesil and Magiere's chest and other scant belongings into the wagon, along with a few food supplies and blankets. Domin Tilswith was off on a regular visit to badger the council for better facilities, and so Leesil stood outside the barracks with only Wynn and Vatz. He reached inside his hauberk, lifted out Sapphire's necklace, and handed it to the sage.

"Sell this," he said. "And Vatz, you help her get a fair price. Take payment in gold only, as I'm guessing its value in silver would be too bulky to carry."

"You coming back?" the boy asked.

"Only if you can't find me where I told Magiere to wait," he explained. "At the first inn outside the city's reach. Tomorrow you can bring the coins to me there."

He paused, considering how much they owed these two for their help.

"You hold back two gold sovereigns from whatever you get. One for your guild, Wynn, to help out here until the council gives in to your needs. The other is for you, Vatz."

For the first time Leesil could remember since their meeting on the docks, Vatz stood in silence, mouth gaping open. It was more than the boy could earn in years at his present endeavors. Leesil patted him on the shoulder and turned to Wynn.

"I appreciate you helping uncover Chap's little secret."

Wynn smiled shyly, and her oval olive face blushed. She lunged forward to wrap her arms about him. Leesil held her for a moment before gently disentangling himself.

"I hope Magiere will forgive me," Wynn said quietly. "Though she was wrong concerning Chane."

"She already has," Leesil said with a smile. "She just doesn't know it yet. At times she's rather slow that way."

As he climbed into the wagon and snapped the reins, Chap clambered forward onto the seat next to him, and he called out one last time: "Give our best to Karlin, and with luck, we'll see you again… someday."

He left them both waving as the wagon rolled down the road and out through the gatehouse of the middle ring wall.

Leesil traveled the rest of the way out of the city with thoughts dull and thick in his head. Nothing had changed-nothing that mattered, anyway. There was the money for Miiska, of course, but Magiere still remained far away from him. He'd promised to stay by her, no matter that she now chose for everything to remain as it was between them.

The road grew quieter as they passed through the city's landward gate and the cottages, shops, and buildings that spread beyond Bela's outer wall. All the way into the nearest farmland, even Chap remained quiet. Past the open fields, barren in autumn, the wagon rolled into the first outlying village with an inn on the main road. How Magiere had gotten this far ahead Leesil could only guess. Perhaps she'd actually spent money for a coach.

As they pulled up, Chap jumped out to scurry into the brush around the nearby field. Leesil unloaded the chest, and the hound came back briefly, looking to him and then back at the field.

"Go on," he said. "Just don't be long."

Chap licked Leesil's hand once, and he was off into the wild grass. Leesil hauled the chest into the inn.

The innkeeper was a solid old woman who informed him that the black-haired swordswoman he sought had already taken a room. He asked the innkeeper to tend the wagon and horses, and she showed him the way to the back of the inn through a narrow hallway. As he approached, a door opened.

In it stood Magiere, armor and sword removed, and hair untied, hanging loose about her shoulders. She stepped aside, holding the door for him.

Leesil set the chest at the foot of a narrow bed. The small room was dark and lit by one oil lamp. Rough burlap curtains were pulled closed over a shuttered window with no glass. It appeared Magiere now wished to hide from the world as well as from him.

"I paid for only one room," she said quietly. Shutting the door, she leaned against it, head slightly down.

"It's all right," he answered. "There'll be more coin in the morning."

"What?" she asked. "How? From where?"

He shook his head, not wanting to deal with her any further at the moment.

"I'll explain tomorrow while we prepare for travel," he answered. "I can sleep on the floor. We have spare blankets in the wagon."

Magiere gave him a bewildered frown. Her pale brow remained wrinkled as she stepped closer, searching his face. Leesil suppressed a shudder that threatened to shatter his self-control. Perhaps now she'd at least tell him and be done with it.

She took his face in both hands, scowling at him. Before he could ask what he'd done now, she leaned in and pressed her mouth hard against his.

Leesil stiffened as he grabbed her by the shoulders and held her away just far enough to look her in the eyes.

Magiere looked startled at his reaction. Then her large brown eyes softened as she pulled the scarf from his head and combed her fingers through his hair.

"If we're to live that fourth life of yours, it seems we must now hunt our own pasts… and Chap's," she whispered. There was some fear in her face, and perhaps a bit of sadness, but also warmth. "This still feels strange, but you've put all your trust in me, and I've not done the same for you. It's time I changed that."

Leesil's mind went blank. All he felt was relief as he pressed close to kiss Magiere again. Then suddenly, he stopped.

"I think I need a bath."

"Later," she said. "For now, we rest."

Magiere carefully pulled aside his hauberk's collar, checking the bandage, and helped him slip out of his armor. She turned down the lamp until the flame extinguished, and Leesil felt her hand again upon the side of his face.

"I don't think this is going to get us any rest," he remarked in the dark.

"Leesil…" she answered with a sigh. "Just be quiet for a little while."

He wanted to laugh aloud and let go of everything but her. And as always, at the best moments in his life, joy stirred his natural humor.

"Magiere…"

"Leesil, shut up."

"Just one little thing."

"What?" she said crossly.

"Um… no biting."

Two hands slammed his shoulders, and he tumbled onto the small bed. He felt Magiere drop on top of him, pressing close.

"Not funny."

Her answer came with all the irritation he'd so long become accustomed to.

As always, an angry Magiere was most often the true Magiere.

Chap stood outside the back of the inn, staring across the field to the bordering line of trees as dusk settled in. Northern Belaski was cool in midautumn, but the tall fir and cedar trees remained full and green. He'd returned several times to listen beneath the window of one room inside, and now, finally, the voices of his companions within faded.

The hound's crystalline eyes stared steadily across the field. He tensed but didn't growl, nor did his long blue-gray fur stand up beyond the rustle caused by the evening breeze.