Barrenlands (The Changespell Saga) (14 page)

He'd been wrong.

He said shortly, "Don't you think you've run into enough trouble for one day? I know I have."

She blinked at him. They stood in the middle of the road— three people, four horses, and a mule. Ehren tightened the girths on all the horses, moving efficiently…with no apparent concern over what had just happened.

"It's still a good reason," she said, finally, if a little unevenly. "And we can still catch up with him."

A drop of blood
splatted
onto the road. Ehren eyed Laine and said shortly, "We'll need to wrap that."

"He's on foot," Shette said, sounding a little desperate. "He can't be much further— I'd have caught up to him if I could've got Clang to go faster."

No one said anything. Ehren handed the loose horses to Shette and took a critical look at Laine's arm. "Not bad," he said. "But you're going to lose a shirt sleeve. They'll have better supplies at the border station once we get back."

"Don't you
care
?" Shette cried in frustration. "If I'd known you didn't, I wouldn't have come out here in the first place!"

Ehren whirled on her, and Laine winced, remembering the intensity of Ehren's reaction in the stable. But Ehren's words, when they finally came, were careful. "You shouldn't have come out here in any case. If you'd told me, I'd have the man by now."

She looked away. "I wanted to surprise you."

Ehren sighed, looking away from her— finally, visibly gathering his composure. "I know." He looked down the road, considering. "We might catch up with him. But we wouldn't get back before nightfall."

"
Please
let's go after him. Otherwise I got caught by those egg-suckers for nothing!"

"Shette," Laine said, his voice much less forgiving than Ehren's.

"Shut up, Laine!" she cried, turning on him with fury wobbling in her voice. "You don't know anything about it! I've got to make it worth something!" Her nose was red and her eyes watery— and suddenly, as angry as he was, Laine wanted to have his arms around her shoulders again, making her feel safe.

Except he wasn't sure anymore that a mere embrace would do the job.

"He knows enough," Ehren said, giving no ground. "He was almost killed, getting you out of there."

Shette started sobbing, just standing in the middle of the road with her hands covering her face. Laine took an uncertain step toward her, but it was Ehren who closed his eyes in capitulation and put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in close to cry. He looked at Laine over the top of her head. "We can have that cut seen at one of the inns as easily as at the border. She does have a point. I don't know who this man is, but I'd like to find out."

Clearly an understatement.

Laine sighed. Even if they stayed away a week, it wasn't likely to interfere with the caravan schedule. His desire to be back at his wagon
now
was more an attempt to get away from what had happened here than a need to return. And Ehren hadn't been obliged to come with him on this Shette hunt. He supposed he owed the man that much. "I hope you have coins on you."

Ehren gave him an uncharacteristic grin— one with a fierce foundation. After a moment, he brushed away the loose hair that had stuck to Shette's tear-wet face and pointed her at the little black mare, suggesting they get acquainted. Then, while Laine held the rest of the mounts, Ehren cut Laine's sleeve off, tore it into strips, and wrapped it around the long, shallow slice down Laine's arm.

"Is it bad, Laine?" Shette asked from atop the mare, her voice laced with trepidation. "Are you really hurt?"

"If I was really hurt, I'd have made you carry me down that hill," Laine told her, some of the humor finally finding its way back to his voice. "Now let's get moving. After all this trouble, I guess I want to get a look at this fellow, too."

~~~~~

They caught up with the man just as the early summer evening began to dim. Inns sprouted along the Trade Road, perched precariously along the river or jammed up against the steep rock of the other side, and the trio checked at two of them before stopping at the Goose and Gander. As before, Laine and Shette stayed out in front of the inn with their menagerie while Ehren went inside.

He went armed with all that Shette could tell him: the man had been dressed in shabby clothes of an indeterminate brown color, was balding with his remaining hair cut close in the new Kurtane style, and had a mole under his left eye. He was nervous and while he had a little money, he seemed to set more value on his satchel of papers than his purse.

In the dim light of the inn's common room, it was difficult to tell indeterminate brown from muddied blues and faded black. Ehren stood to the side of the doorway, letting his gaze wander the room. The occupants generally ignored him, though a few who'd already had too much to drink scowled at him. One of those muttered loudly, "King's Guard don't mean
nothin'
here."

Ehren paid him no attention— not once he'd seen the man carried no sword and his knife was skewed on his belt, making for an awkward reach. If the fellow got any sudden ideas, his movement would be easy to spot.

No, his attention narrowed down to exclude the thick smell of food and ale and sweat. He sorted the clutter of visual details, the bustle of serving girls and the colorful dress of the harlots and the clatter of mugs and the expansive, drink-driven laughter, and came up with—

There.
In the corner, by himself and obviously wanting no part of company. He'd seen Ehren and studiously looked away as if that meant Ehren wouldn't be able to see him in return. He blinked rapidly, making the mole under his left eye twitch a little. On the table next to him sat a small satchel; at his feet lay a bundle of clothes in a blanket. All his worldly goods, no doubt.

Ehren eyed the number of tables between his quarry and the exit, and stepped back outside the inn.

Laine and Shette waited, both looking much the worse for wear. Shette was exhausted, and wrung out of tears or any other emotion— it was beyond time to coax some food into her and get her to bed. Laine's arm had stiffened beneath its bandage, and he had his thumb hooked through his sword belt to protect it. Other than that he seemed determined to put what he'd seen and experienced behind him.

Ehren well knew the encounter wouldn't be
behind
until Laine faced it head on, but there would be a better time to tell him so. "Stable 'em," Ehren said. "We're staying here."

Shette didn't even ask if that meant the man was here, but Ehren nodded at Laine's quick, questioning glance. "I'll take care of it."

Laine shrugged and led the horses toward the riverbank corrals with Shette still perched on the mare, looking as numb as Shette.

Ehren stood against the side of the inn and waited. The man was a runner, and there was no reason to think he'd change his ways now. After a long moment, the door cracked open. It stayed cracked long enough for someone to get a good look around, and then, in the dim twilight, a small figure darted out.

Ehren's hand was faster. He clapped it down on the fellow's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks like a rabbit too scared to move. "I think we need to talk."

"I-I'm a Therand citizen, Clan Shahinian," the little man said, through teeth that were all but chattering. "I've committed no crime. You have no right to hold me."

"Did I say you'd committed a crime?"

"N-no."

"I don't recall saying I intended you any harm, either."

Silence. The fugitive wasn't about to believe that. With an iron grip, Ehren encouraged him to back a step or two, until his quiet voice came just above the man's ear. "You're well and good caught. I suggest you cooperate for a while, and see where it gets you."

After a hesitation, the man nodded stiffly, clutching his possessions tightly to himself.

The inn door creaked open again, and a woman came out, lantern in hand. She cast them a suspicious look and hung the lantern beside the door. "Trouble here?"

"Not that I know of," Ehren said easily. "Unless you're full for the night, in which case the trouble is ours."

"I thought he was staying in the common room."

"His luck has changed for the better," Ehren said. "I have two friends, and five horses being stabled. What about that room?"

She wasn't about to say no to someone who was spending on five horses. "Of course we have a room, sir," she said. "For a Guard like yourself, we would always find a room."

For a Guard with the money
, she meant, but Ehren smiled at her anyway.

~~~~~

Shette sat on the small room's only bed, her shoes on the floor and her legs drawn up beneath her. She looked askance at the stained blanket, deciding once and for all that she would sleep on top of it, even though the innkeeper had assured them the beds were regularly spelled against fleas. And she wasn't sure if she would ever sleep again— or if she would stay awake even one moment longer.

The day had left her like that.

It seemed weeks ago that she had made the impulsive decision to come after this man. And had it only been this afternoon that she'd been in the clutches of bandits, and bound for slavery?

No, not likely. Maybe it had never happened at all. The only thing she in which she had confidence was the feel of Ehren's strong arm around her, and the leather smell of his brigandine.

The brigandine was off, now, and he'd changed to a worn linen shirt of a quality Shette had never owned. He stood at the end of the bed wrapping Laine's arm, while the fugitive who had started the whole thing sat on the floor with his back to the corner, miserable as his glance darted from the door to Ehren and back again.

"Ow," Laine muttered, looking as if he wanted to say much more. Ehren's touch remained sure and even, wrapping the salve-smeared arm with the hand of experience. He tied off the bandage and rested a brief hand on Laine's shoulder.

"It's not deep, and the edges are clean. It'll heal fine." Then he gave Laine a wry grin. "It'll just hurt like hell for a few days."

"Tell me something I don't already know," Laine muttered. He looked as tired as Shette felt. Neither of them were used to this sort of adventure.

Ehren, she thought, must be. Despite the chase he'd undertaken that morning and all the fighting he'd done at the bandit camp, he looked better than any of them.

The little man spoke from his corner, his words abrupt and clipped. "What do you want from me?"

They stared at him as one. They'd eaten with this man silent at their table, offering nothing by way of conversation, barely touching the ale they had ordered for him. He'd walked between Ehren and Laine with no objection, climbing the narrow stairs on the way to this room. He'd picked out his corner and he'd watched silently as Ehren tended Laine. And now, finally, he'd found his tongue.

"If you're going to kill me, do it now."

"If I was going to kill you," Ehren said dryly, "I wouldn't have brought along these two to help me."

"What do you want from me, then?"

"Why were you running?" Ehren countered.

The man laughed, a high-pitched and slightly panicked sort of sound.

Shette felt sorry for him. "What's your name?"

He blinked at her.

"I'm Shette. That's Laine and Ehren."

"And what's a King's Guard doing with the likes of you?"

"Following me," Shette said. "Because I was following you."

"You?
You
were following me?"

Ehren grinned at the man. "You'll have to learn better than to spill your secrets to a whore." He nodded at Shette. "She asked your name."

Thoroughly puzzled, the man said, "Unai."

"Unai, a year ago, my king was killed. My
friend
. Heliga says you know something about it. I want to know what."

"Heliga?"

"The whore," Ehren said gently. "The one you shouldn't have talked to." He left the bedside and walked over to Unai's corner. No, Shette decided, it was more of an easy stalk, with Ehren's boot heels loud against the wood floor and the buckles of his blood-spattered greaves jingling counterpoint. He crouched in front of Unai and said quietly, "I've been searching that year for Benlan's killers. I don't for a minute believe you had anything to do with it. But I
do
believe you know something about it, and the only thing that's going to get you in trouble now is if you don't tell me what it is."

Unai, skewered by that dark gaze, couldn't seem to look away. At last he wrenched his head to the side. "I want to go to Everdawn."

"You can go anywhere you damn well please after you talk to me."

Unai shook his head, chancing a quick, sideways glance at Ehren. "I want an escort to Everdawn. If you want what I know, you'll keep me safe till then."

Ehren glanced over his shoulder at Shette and Laine, something indecipherable in his gaze. "All right."

Shette blinked. "What about us?"

Ehren stood, turning his back on Unai— who looked as if he didn't quite believe what he'd heard. "That's your choice."

Laine gave him an uncertain look. "I thought you wanted to take the caravan back."

"I'll make it back in time."

"Ansgare won't wait for him, you know he won't," Shette said abruptly, not willing to say good-bye to Ehren— nor to travel back through that spot she'd been ambushed without him. "We should go with him, Laine. Ansgare's not going anywhere until you get back."

She expected Laine's immediate protest. What she got was silence. He gave her a speculative look, as though he'd somehow heard her unspoken thoughts. And he looked at Ehren with that same expression. "We might just be in the way, Shette."

"I want them," the little man said suddenly. "I want them with us, or there's no deal. I'll yell so loud those louts in the common room will hear— there's no love lost for Guards down there, not when they're letting the borders grow so dangerous."

"Think it'll keep me in line to have her along, do you?" Ehren said, dry amusement in his voice. "It's fine with me."

All eyes were on Laine. "We owe you," Laine said to Ehren, and that was the end of it.