Legends of Dimmingwood 02:Betrayal of Thieves (10 page)

No, at first glance he hardly appeared the warrior priest I sought, and I felt a brief stab of disappointment. If he had set aside generosity as easily as he had shed sword and mail, my efforts to locate him would all have been for nothing. What if he didn’t even remember me? Or worse, what if he did, but he no longer held such a charitable view towards woods thieves? Might he betray me to the city guard? My hand moved of its own accord to brush the lightwood of my bow for reassurance before I remembered I couldn’t reach the weapon, as it was still covered by my coat.

Luckily, after the briefest of pauses, recognition flickered in Hadrian’s eyes.

“Ah, it is the little woods thief who tried to kill me on the road through Dimmingwood,” he said.

I was relieved his tone held more amusement than malice.

“Forgive me, but I have to correct your memory,” I said. “I believe it was you who threatened to kill me. You were going to cut my throat if my friends didn’t meet your demand to free the other travelers.”

“So I was. How could I forget? You’ve grown quite a bit since our last meeting. Upon my mother’s ashes, I almost didn’t recognize you. I was just wondering the other day whatever became of my ragged, thieving friend. So you finally decided to take up my offer, did you? I have to confess surprise at seeing you here, since I had the impression on our last meeting that you were less than enthralled with me. But I suppose it was inevitable the magic would draw you to me.”

“Magic?” This came from Fleet, who leaped into the conversation before I had a chance to respond. “What’s this about magic, eh? No one said anything about dark powers to me. Have you been keeping secrets? I haven’t been running about all this time with some kind of necromancer, have I?”

His tone was jesting, but I recognized the touch of fear that crept across his face, sensed the hidden revulsion most folk of the province harbored toward those with magical abilities. But Fleet was a professional and his look of unease was swiftly put aside to be replaced with something else. By the scheming glint in his eyes, I knew he was considering how he might use my abilities to his advantage.

I realized I’d better sweep this thing under the rug. If the street thief knew for certain I had the faintest touch of magic in me, he’d be hounding me for the rest of my days to jump into a dozen dishonest schemes he needed my skills to pull off.

“No magic, Fleet,” I ground impatiently, casting a warning look at Hadrian. “Just a joke between me and the priest. Now keep quiet. My friend and I haven’t seen one another in a bit and we’ve things to discuss.”

Fleet lapsed into disappointed silence.

Hadrian, seemingly oblivious to the danger he had almost plunged us into with his slip, said to me, “I hoped you would come. All things considered, it’s for the best.”

He must have noticed when I stirred uncomfortably, for he changed the subject. “I should have known it was you on my doorstep by Seephinia's description. But of course, she described a young woman, not the half-grown child I remembered. Then, when she described your companion, a mannerless fellow decked out in baubles like a Camdon lady’s maid—well, then I was just confused. I have to say, he doesn’t look like one of your forest brothers in roguery.”

Fleet, frowning at the unflattering description of himself, flicked a sullen glance up and down Hadrian’s person. “This is your friend, Ilan?” he asked. “I thought you wanted an Honored priest, not some fish-eating river rat.”

The river woman, who had been hovering in the background, moved closer and there was menace in her eyes and in the way she stroked the hilt of the fish knife tucked into her belt.

I wasn’t the only one to notice.

“Hold back, Seephinia,” said Hadrian. “The fellow is ill-mannered, but I trust he means no harm.”

His eyes contradicted the statement. He wasn’t going to ask me again who Fleet was or why I had brought him, but I sensed his curiosity.

The priest looked at me with a raised eyebrow, and I realized he could feel me picking at his emotions. I gritted my teeth. I had become so accustomed to exploring the stream of emotions constantly flowing through the world around me, I’d forgotten I wasn’t the only one who possessed that ability.

When I snapped my searching tendrils of magic back into myself, the priest’s expression suggested approval, but it bothered me that I now had only his outward expressions to go on. Then I was annoyed at myself. Was I becoming so dependent on my magic these days that I felt crippled when I had to set it aside? Even the bow was taunting me now. I could feel its whispers tickling at the back of my mind, but I didn’t dare let them in. Not in the presence of this man.

“This is Fleet,” I said suddenly, to cover the awkward lull. “He’s a new acquaintance but has already done me a service or two, including helping to find you. He’s a little rough around the edges but not a bad sort. I’d be worse than offended if any harm befell him.”

I glanced at the river woman as I said that last and she returned my look so flatly I suspected my endorsement had done Fleet more harm than good. She appeared to have even less liking for me than for him and I couldn’t figure out why. I’d certainly treated her with a good deal more respect.

Hadrian smiled, the expression a mixture of amusement and mild impatience. At least, that’s what I thought it was, but without my magic he was difficult to read.

“I think we’d better start this meeting over,” the priest said. “Come, both of you. Sit and make yourselves comfortable. Everyone is welcome here, and I don’t keep my guests on their feet.” He glanced at the river woman and added, “Nor do I murder them after I’ve invited them to stay.”

As he spoke, he led us to a circle of cushions scattered along the floor. Once we were comfortably settled, Hadrian asked the river woman to fetch us something to drink and when she had gone, Fleet remarked that he had never heard of river folk who would serve drylanders.

Hadrian frowned and said, “Seephinia’s no servant but a friend. Her people are too independent to be commanded by any one person. The Praetor may think he has bought them, but the river folk don’t see themselves as owned and I think if he or the other drylanders presume otherwise for long, they will discover the truth to their hurt.”

Fleet said, “You speak like one of them. Do you forget, Honored, that you’re one of us cursed drylanders?”

“I’ve lived among the river people long enough that I do occasionally forget the ways of my own kind and feel as if I had been born on the water,” Hadrian admitted.

I wanted to pursue this subject further, because I was curious to learn what had brought the priest to this spot in the first place. But at that moment Seephinia returned with a steaming, sweet-scented drink. I took one sip from the yellow cup carved of fruit rind that she presented and had no desire for a second.

“It takes getting used to,” Hadrian told me with a smile that made me wonder whether my distaste was that obvious or if he was using some trick to read my mind, despite having indicated he disapproved of such uses for magic. I could sense no other presence in my head, but a man as experienced in the magic as he was might know ways to cloud my senses to his delving.

Over drinks, the priest kept the conversation on light pleasantries, asking whether we’d had difficulty finding him here and inquiring about our impressions of the river folk and their floating village. I wondered if this simple talk was to distract me from what he could be doing inside my head and decided I didn’t care if it was. Let him dig.

When the small talk began to peter out, I recognized signs of boredom in Fleet’s restless fidgeting and so did Hadrian.

“Seephinia,” the priest said. “I think our friend would like it if you took him out and showed him the rest of the village. I’m sure he would enjoy a rare glimpse into our daily routines around here.”

The river woman scowled but beckoned impatiently for Fleet to follow her. It was clear he was torn between reluctance to put himself in the midst of the “savages” again and a desire to snatch a few moments alone with the attractive Seephinia. I heaved a sigh of relief when his inward struggle ended and he hurried out the curtained doorway after her. I had little doubt I’d be fishing his remains out of the river in half an hour’s time, if it took him even that long to provoke her sufficiently, but it was worth it to have the chance to talk with Hadrian alone. We’d been here an hour and I had yet to broach either of the subjects on my mind.

“Interesting fellow, your friend,” Hadrian said when they had gone. “He doesn’t have the way of the wood folk about him.” It still wasn’t quite a question.

“He isn’t one of the band,” I admitted. “I met him only yesterday, when I did him a favor and he agreed to help me find you in return. He’s an underhanded sort and I wouldn’t turn my back on him, but I can’t help liking him.”

“He’s a thief, of course.”

“I can’t really say,” I returned guardedly.

“You don’t have to. He pocketed the spoon from his drink.”

“I’ll get it back,” I promised, my face warming.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing valuable. I suppose habit took him.”

I said curtly, “It doesn’t matter whether it’s of value or not. I’m the one who brought him here and I’m responsible for what he does in your house. I’ll wring his neck when he returns.”

“You’re growing fairly heated over such a small issue,” Hadrian said, regarding me curiously over the rim of his empty cup. “What’s really troubling you? Something must be awfully important to have dragged you away from the shadow of your beloved forest. It’s the magic, isn’t it? It calls to you, the same way it drew me as a youngster. I couldn’t rest until I had mastered it and discovered its secrets. From our first meeting I’ve sensed that same hunger in you.”

I stirred uneasily. I had always considered my magic a thing to be used for my own purposes, and I didn’t like his talking like it was a living entity compelling me to act. As if I had no choice or say in where it might lead me. I pushed the unpleasant thought aside, telling myself there would be time to examine it later. Right now, this conversation was awakening another, larger concern that had been looming in my mind lately. And for once, it wasn’t about Terrac.

“It isn’t my magic that’s the problem,” I told Hadrian, dropping my eyes to the bow, as though it could do my explaining for me. I had removed it and my coat on arrival, and the weapon now stood propped against my knee. It was quiet for the moment, but it wasn’t the natural stillness of an inanimate object lacking life of its own. No, there was a spark there. I could sense it as vividly as I had the first time I held the bow in my hands. I felt it was listening to us now. Waiting for something.

Hadrian’s gaze followed mine to the bow. “Interesting weapon you’ve got there,” he said. “And those are unusual runes. Mind if I take a closer look?”

At my agreeing, he reached for the bow, saying, “I haven’t seen carvings like this since—”

He broke off midsentence as his hands met the pale lightwood. His eyes widened and I couldn’t help feeling the shock rolling off him in waves. He was too distracted to hold the feelings in.

Yanking his fingers back as if stung, he said, “Why didn’t you warn me this—this thing is alive? And how is that even possible?”

“You tell me,” I returned a touch smugly. The priest was a difficult man to shake and ordinarily I would have enjoyed his amazement. That was, if my own mystification hadn’t been as great as his.

He observed, “This bow has awareness. It has intentions and emotions, the same as any breathing being.”

“Not quiet,” I corrected. “Its chief feeling seems to be a lust for violence. I don’t think I’ve ever sensed anything peaceful from it. Mostly, it just hates and longs to drown that hate in blood.”

“You knew? You’ve felt this
life essence
before?”

I shrugged. “The bow and I have had a little time to become acquainted. It’s mine, after all. At least, I used to think it belonged to me. Lately, I’ve begun to feel it goes both ways.”

I glared darkly at the object in question.

“Tell me everything,” Hadrian said briskly. “Where did you acquire this remarkable object and for how long has it been alive? We’ll lay everything on the table and see what sense we can make of it. ”

And so I launched into the tale of my discovery of the bow on the night Brig died. Hadrian was a good listener. He heard my story out right up to the point where Terrac and I had burned Brig’s body and made our way back to Rideon’s camp. We were interrupted at this point in the tale by the return of Fleet and Seephinia. At their entrance, I fell into an awkward silence and Hadrian, apparently seeing my discomfort, dropped the matter and began plying Fleet with small talk. But his eyes promised we would get back to our subject as soon as we were able.

Fleet and I were invited to stay for the noon meal. We accepted and were soon gathered around a low table. Hadrian made for interesting dinner conversation and even Fleet could be witty and amusing in his ridiculous attempts to charm the beautiful river woman. My mind lifted from my troubles and I began to relax. For the first time in a long time I found myself almost content. Then I caught a glimpse of my bow, propped against the near wall, and the sight of it was like a dash of cold water.

CHAPTER NINE

Dinner was a simple affair. The river woman served us fish with a sort of crusty bread dipped in fruit syrup, and we ate the meal straight off the wooden slabs it was carried in on. During the meal I came to understand it was Seephinia who was our true host and that this hut on the river barge belonged to her. Hadrian was as much a guest as the rest of us, even if he behaved so at home I could almost believe he had been here forever.

The priest explained that he had been staying among the river folk since his arrival in Selbius, in hopes of learning something of their secretive lifestyle. When Fleet asked what he could hope to learn from such people and expressed the opinion Hadrian would do better to teach them our more civilized ways, the priest disagreed and deftly changed the topic. A vague suspicion began to form in my mind, but I let it go for now, promising myself I would discover the truth later. In the meantime, these river people would bear watching. Perhaps they were more than they seemed.