Tom couldn't stop smiling.

As he guided the ox along the road south, he kept glancing at Diavla seated next to him. Her face was sometimes hidden by her long, straight black hair, but the graceful points of her ears were often visible. Her leather armor was new and showed her figure nicely. Tom's gaze returned to the silver ring on her left hand that he had given her the day before. The amber stone matched the color of her eyes.

She also wore a magical slave collar, which dampened his mood slightly. As soon as we get out of sight of everyone, we can get that cursed collar off. Free elves were illegal in Baria, so all of his companions wore the devices. Tom was their master by law, but to his mind, it was in name only. As far as he was concerned, he was simply pretending, for the benefit of other humans they encountered.

Still, nothing could keep his mood low that morning. After long days of pining for each other, Tom and Diavla had finally given in to their desires on Eightnight. In the light of Oneday morning, it still seemed unreal, like the best dream ever.

I have a lover, he marveled. And she's an amazing woman. Witty, graceful, brave…and also incredibly sexy. He felt as if he were gloating at the whole world.

He took a moment to lean to one side and glance back, to make sure the other wagon was following. Varga saw, and lifted one hand in a cheery wave. The redhead was driving the second wagon, with Orvan sitting next to her. Tom's wagon held all their personal supplies, and the other was loaded with bags of salt. They would sell the cargo when they arrived in Oak Mill, hopefully for a decent profit.

They were in much better shape than they had been a week earlier. On the way north to Rivermarch, the newly freed elves had been dressed haphazardly in what clothes they could obtain, and most of their weapons had been improvised spears and the like. Now, everyone was equipped with new armor and weapons, two changes of clothing, boots, cloaks against the chill of autumn, and generous provisions.

They had also gained another companion. Tom called, “Eubexa? How are you doing? How's the ride?”

From the back of the wagon, Eubexa's clear voice answered, “It is fine, Master.” Tom thought he heard a note of strain, but didn't push. There wasn't much more he could do for the sickly elf at the moment, anyway. She had plenty of food and water, and they had made the spot where she lay in the wagon bed as comfortable as possible.

I really wish she wouldn't call me Master, Tom brooded. I guess it will take a while for her to learn to trust me. That's only fair, given what she's suffered. Just the thought of the elf woman's appearance under her veil and bandages threatened to set Tom's blood to boiling. If I ever find the bastard who hurt her, I'm putting him in the ground.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. There wasn't any point in getting angry. Eubexa had suffered as a sex slave, and Tom would do his best to give her the care and treatment she deserved.

“Tom, ‘how much does this cost’ days go Oak Mill?” Diavla's Western was coming along nicely, considering she hadn't known a word of it two weeks ago.

“ ‘How many’ days to go to Oak Mill? Twelve days,” Tom answered. “Ten and two.”

Eubexa spoke up then, clarifying with a brief language lesson for Diavla. The veiled elf was the only one of them fluent in both Elvish and Western, and as such, she was very valuable to the group, no matter how useless she felt. Tom listened in, doing his best to learn Elvish, but it was slow going.

The morning was sunny, but definitely chilly. Tom could see Diavla shivering under her cloak. All the elves apparently had a hard time with the cold. Tom wasn't sure whether that was universal among elves, or just this group. He got the impression that the elves from Kilder Vald were used to a much warmer climate.

Steering the wagon was simple enough. Tom could spare most of his attention for admiring Diavla. When she saw him doing so, she grinned and blushed, shaking her head. Their relationship was new, and apparently Diavla was having as much fun adjusting to the novelty as he was.

He noticed that she looked around at the countryside a lot, since the human continent was so unfamiliar to her. The area around Rivermarch was mostly farmland, filling the wide valley containing the Lasha River, which flowed west. They were slowly climbing up out of the valley, but it would take a while.

Diavla called a question back to Eubexa, who translated. “Master, Diavla wants to know what your first job was after leaving home.”

“Gathering firewood,” Tom recalled. “I was slow, but it was something I could do even when I was sick.”

“You were sick, Master?” Eubexa asked before translating.

“Yes. I was a sickly kid. I couldn't breathe well, growing up. It wasn't until I had left home for some months that I started to get healthy,” Tom recounted.

“Where was home?”

“Flax Hill. Just a tiny farming village. We had a bad harvest, and I was a burden, so I packed up and left. I told Diavla some of this, before.”

Eubexa spoke in Elvish for a minute, while Tom watched the road and waited.

“What did you do next?” Diavla asked next, through Eubexa.

“I carried messages,” Tom recalled. “I wasn't very fast, but the messages didn't have to be. I walked back and forth between two villages so many times people started calling me Tom Walker. One day, they asked me to take a message to a place three villages away to the north. It took me a while to get there, but after I stayed overnight, I woke up able to breathe better. On the return trip, I started feeling sicker again. So, as soon as I finished that job, I started walking north, and kept walking through town after town. And I got better.”

“That must have felt wonderful.”

“It did. It still does. I started taking harder jobs. I got faster with firewood, I helped build a porch on one man's house, and I put paving stones in a road for a while. I wanted to help bring in a harvest, but I started having trouble breathing again, so I left right away.”

“One of the crops makes you sick?”

Tom nodded. “Yes. So, I stayed away from the fields after that. I got a job on a team felling trees, next. I worked hard, and started eating more. I got bigger and stronger.

“In Cooperville, there was a blacksmith who fired his apprentice. I asked, and got the job as the replacement. But I got kicked out a month later when the old apprentice came back. It was all right; I learned a lot while I was there. I decided I wanted to keep learning different things, so I kept changing jobs.

“One night, I was asked to help guard a barn from thieves. I almost got killed because I didn't know how to fight. After that, I started learning to use a sword, and took jobs where I could get lessons from other guards.” Tom's soul flashed back to his most recent lessons, just before Sir Kurt and the others were killed. He got lost in those thoughts for a minute, until Diavla's hand on his knee brought his attention back to the present.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about Sir Kurt.” Tom shook his head and forced a smile for Diavla's benefit. He cleared his throat. “Actually, I'm looking forward to learning more from Sir Kurt. Eubexa, do you think you would be able to read some of his book to me tonight?”

“Of course, Master.”

“Don't wear yourself out, though. I want you to heal up as much as you can on this trip.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you. I will be careful.”

Tom had his doubts, but didn't press at the moment. Looking for something else to talk about, he asked, “What about you, Diavla? Would you tell me what life was like in Kilder Vald?”

Diavla agreed readily, and told him stories about a village that had bountiful ocean fish every day and a forest filled with game. They apparently didn't have winter there, if she was to be believed. It sounded like paradise, and Tom said so.

“It was.”

Tom winced inwardly, remembering that her village had been destroyed. It had only been a few months since human slavers from the Empire attacked, killed a third of the villagers, enslaved another third, and burned the buildings to the ground.

“I'm sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Tom furrowed his brow a moment at that. “Eubexa, what exactly did you say to her?”

“Master, I conveyed what I thought was your intent. I told her you offered your sympathies for her loss. I thought it would be more accurate than a literal translation. Was that a mistake, Master?”

Tom turned it over in his soul. “No, you're right, thank you. Translating must be hard work sometimes.”

“Yes, Master. I find that it is.”

“Well, thank you. I appreciate having you here to help us. It's been very difficult trying to communicate without a translator before we found you.”

“I am grateful for the chance to be useful, Master.”

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

They traveled all day that way, language lessons mixed with stories of their lives. Towards evening, Tom debated with himself a while, then decided to try spending the night in Copper Road, the village along their route. On the way into Rivermarch, Tom had chosen to avoid the town and camp an extra night, rather than face a uncertain reception for him and the elves.

This time, however, they were better armed, and Tom had clear title to the elves and the goods, along with approval of Lord Rivermarch. He felt confident that they could weather whatever reaction they faced from the townspeople. He was about to tell the elves of his decision to stop there, when he remembered that they weren't in the city any more, which changed things.

Tom had been balancing on a rolling log in a river when it came to the ethics of commanding the elves to do things. He didn't want to be a slave master, and he didn't want them to be slaves. The law of the land required it, though. The elves had resolved the situation by declaring Tom to be the leader of the group, but not the master of the elves, at least in private. However, they had only said that that would apply while they were in the city.

Tom explained his concern to Diavla and Eubexa. The two elves discussed something in Elvish for a minute or two. Then, Diavla hopped off the wagon and went to fill in the others, returning very quickly.

“Tom,” Diavla reported through Eubexa's translation, “we are all agreed. You have been doing a great job as our leader, and we want you to continue. We trust your judgment.”

Tom breathed a deep sigh of relief and smiled. “Thank you—all of you. I'll do my best.”

“Are we staying in an inn tonight, or camping?”

“We'll stay at the inn, if there are rooms available.”

“Good.” Diavla beamed at him. “I want to share a bed with you again tonight.”

Tom had a difficult time concentrating on anything else for the rest of the day's drive.

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

Copper Road was a small town on a crossroads. It was a convenient stopping place, one day's travel south of the city. There were a couple of inns. Two competing urchins bragged about them, trying to draw in their business. Tom gave each of them a copper and asked which one had four rooms available. They both loudly insisted that their inn had the room and the other one didn't. Tom shook his head and picked one at random, pulling up in front.

“Wait here; I'll be right back.” Tom hopped down and went inside.

The main room of the inn was small and not well-lit. A fireplace to one side warded the chill, and the patrons were all clustered either next to the fire or along the bar. Tom looked for the innkeeper. Seeing no one but the bartender running the place, he walked up to the bar and waited for an opening.

After just a few moments, the man behind the counter moved closer. He was a big man with dark hair and a nose that had been broken and healed wrong, once upon a time. He had a faint smile, like he was distracted. “What can I get you?”

“Four rooms for the night, and enough dinner for…eight.”

The man's face lit up some at the anticipated income, then looked thoughtful. “I can manage four rooms, but a couple of them will be small.”

“That's fine. I need to check, though—do you have a problem with elves?”

The bartender immediately scowled. “You have an elf?”

From the reaction, Tom knew already that this wasn't going to work out, but he answered. “More than one.”

“No elves in the Driver's Rest. They can use the stable.”

Tom hissed air through his nose. “Understood. I'll take my business elsewhere, then. Good night to you.”

“Get out of here, elf-lover.”

Tom bit back a retort and walked out, thinking, actually, I am an elf-lover, and it's amazing. You're a fool, mister.

When he stepped outside, he frowned and shook his head at Diavla and Varga, then mounted the front wagon again and got them rolling the short distance to the other inn. If this place won't take us, I guess we'll be camping outside of town. He got down and took a deep breath.

“Good luck,” Diavla told him. Tom nodded and walked inside.

This inn had a front room that was long and narrow, with barely room for tables on either side of the central aisle. The room was cold, as the fireplace was not in use, and the front half of the room was barely lit by a single lantern. There were fewer people in the common room here, but the space was cramped enough that it felt just as busy as the other place.

Tom walked up to the bar and accosted the bartender. “Hello. Have you got rooms available?”

“I think so, but Miss Penn's the innkeeper.” He jerked a thumb towards the back.

“Thanks.” Tom approached the far end, where a small woman was arguing with a tall, skinny fellow.

“Dinner and a room for half your take,” the woman offered. “But you've got to play at least two hours.”

“Deal, ma'am.” The two shook hands.

“You can set up over there.” The woman pointed, then turned to Tom. “Good evening, sir, and welcome to Penn's Well Inn.”

Tom nodded. “Thank you, ma'am. I'm looking for rooms for the night, and dinner.”

“Certainly.”

Tom cleared his throat. “My companions are elves. Is there any problem with that?”

“You mean slaves,” the woman declared with a frown. “No, I don't have a problem with elves.” Her mood had definitely soured, though. Maybe she dislikes slave owners.

“Great. I'd like four rooms, please.”

Her frown seemed to shift, aimed less at him. “I'm afraid I only have three rooms right now. Sleeping space down here is available, though.”

Tom nodded. “Three will do. Do you serve a meal?”

“Dinner, no breakfast.”

“How much?”

“A silver a night per room, and four large copper more for dinner.”

“That's fine. Do you have a space for two wagons and oxen?”

“We can take care of the oxen for another silver. Space for the wagons is around back.”

“Is there a guard?”

“No. You'll have to provide your own.”

Tom nodded. “Understood. Baths?”

“Through there.” She pointed at one of the doors. “Rooms are upstairs.”

“Thank you. Any problems with us eating down here?”

The innkeeper cast a wary eye over the patrons. “Not from me.”

“All right. We're not looking for any trouble.”

“Good. Neither am I.”

“Half now, or pay in the morning?”

She narrowed her eyes, and almost smiled. “Half now is fine.”

Tom stared at the ceiling for a moment, calculating, then fished out four silver and handed them over. “That's around half. Covers the rooms and oxen. Not sure how much we're eating, yet.”

The woman pocketed the silver. “Drinks are pay as you go,” she warned.

Tom nodded acceptance. “What's for dinner?”

“Chicken and barley soup.”

“Sounds good. Keys?”

“Don't have keys. We've got bars on the doors, though. You can take the last three rooms on the right, upstairs.” Tom wasn't surprised; some places couldn't afford locks, and bars were more secure anyway.

“Last three on the right, upstairs. Thank you.”

Tom headed out to give the elves the good news. He was still wary of the town, but at least they wouldn't be in a barn or a field for the night. I'll have to set up watches, but…it's not that bad a start for the trip.