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8: Polite Company

“Now, I need bait.” Hook in hand, Llew flicked the grass with her fingers to see if she could stir anything to life. Tasked with catching a fresh dinner, she was determined to impress.

“Like what?” Jonas asked, crouching beside her. Alvaro followed him down on her other side.

“Like...” Llew said, looking about. “That.” She pointed at finely flickering grass blades where she had just caught a glimpse of a cricket going into hiding.

Jonas squinted to see what she was pointing at. The cricket leaped from its cover, disappearing into another clump of the yellow native grass. The grass shuddered and Jonas flung out his hand.

“Like...” He opened his fist, clutching the creature’s powerful hind legs between the knuckles of two fingers. “This?”

Llew grinned at him.

“That’s spittin’ distance to cheatin’, that is,” said Alvaro.

Jonas raised an eyebrow dismissively at him.

Llew carefully took the cricket and grimaced while slicing the insect’s head off with the hook. It wasn’t her favourite part of fishing, but it was necessary – she’d rather they died from a quick decapitation than writhed around with a hook through them, no matter how much more appealing that might be to the fish.

“Usually, catching the bait is as much a challenge as catching dinner,” she said, threading the hook through the fleshy abdomen. “There were a few hungry nights I could have done with you around.”

The water downstream from the swimming hole filled the air with a babble loud enough to drown out the loose stones shifting under their feet and to cover their approach from over-sensitive fish Llew hoped had returned since their earlier swim. She stepped up to the water’s edge, let out her horsehair line, and set about her usual performance of teasing the fish with light flicks of her bait on the surface. She sensed Jonas step up close behind her left shoulder. He blocked what breeze there was, and the warmth emanating from him gave her a heady feeling not unlike that provided by his small bottle of liquor.

Alvaro placed himself by Llew’s right shoulder. He started to say something but, with a raised hand, Llew demanded silence of them both as they waited for the fish to grow brave enough to investigate the insect touching down on the water’s surface.

Little more than an hour later, Llew had caught four sizable fish, which the three of them had scaled and gutted, releasing the entrails into the water to be washed away to feed more fish downstream.

“So, why were you leaving Cheer?” Aris asked, tucking into the now boiled fish. Llew wished they had a skillet and a little oil, but, even boiled, the fish was a welcome change.

“My... friend accused me of murdering his boss. I figured it’d only be a matter of time before the law tracked me down and hung me for it.” Less than an hour, but they didn’t need to know that. “I didn’t do it.” She eye-balled each of them.

Anya nodded. She might not have lived on the streets, but she would have known something about the ways of the law in Cheer. If someone of her standing had been accused, there would have been a trial. Lucky for Llew, it seemed that in her excitement about her impending trip, the news of the hanging of the two young thieves had skipped Anya’s notice. She watched the other girl carefully for signs of ringing bells, but it seemed Anya had remained sheltered from such events.

“So, you cut your hair and left your hometown, that it?” Aris was savvy. He knew Llew’s one-of-the-boys act wasn’t new.

“My pa didn’t like me as a girl. Said I reminded him too much of my ma.” She sensed everyone’s mood change. She supposed it was sad for her pa to feel that way, but she had little time for his feelings anymore. “And by the time he went missing, I already knew what happened to girls on the street. I didn’t want that, so I stayed as a boy. I hardly knew different by then, anyway.”

Aris nodded, then his eyes narrowed. “Didn’t happen to know anything about that witch we were questioned over just out of Cheer, did you?”

Llew felt her insides constrict, and she concentrated very hard on not letting it show. She shook her head as assertively as she could, which probably just made her look as guilty as she was trying not to appear. Aris’s gaze lingered long enough that she nearly peed herself, but he said no more on the subject and soon returned his attention to his fish. He congratulated her on the catch. She tried not to beam too broadly – just enough for the appreciation of the fish.

Watch duty was as unpleasant as it had been the first night. Unfamiliar animals prowled the forest floor, and she now had the added fear that they were surrounded by Aghacian natives; the occasional scuffle that sounded human-sized did not help this. Again, the air lost all heat soon after sun-down, and, even in her jacket, Llew spent most of her awake time shivering and she didn’t look forward to trying to return to sleep.

The task of rousing Cassidy without waking anyone else wasn’t easy, but she managed it eventually and headed for her own bedroll.

Shivering in the chill night air, she stopped before the sleeping Jonas and recalled snuggling in the arms of Kynas on cold winter evenings. They had been unsettling times. Being warm should have allowed her to relax, but being so close to Kynas and his ever-groping hands did not a pleasant night’s sleep make. While she had traded the skin-crawling for the cold in Kynas’s case, she was seriously considering otherwise this time. Besides, Jonas was at least nice to look at. Maybe the rest wouldn’t be bad, either.

Of course, he would expect something in return. That was the nature of things. You traded what you had for what they had, and he had warmth. Technically, they were sharing heat, but Kynas had always made it clear that he gave more than she did and therefore the deficit ran in his favour. In Jonas’s case, maybe it would help with the whole matter of not putting a knife in her if the truth about what she was came out, too. Maybe.

She shrugged off her jacket, placed it on the ground nearby and tugged off her shoes, hopping about in an effort to remain balanced on one foot on the frosty damp ground. She knelt before him and peeled back his bedroll. He clung to the tightly woven wool, but with a little pressure Llew had him sleepily making room for her. Some part of her wondered if he knew it was her or if, in the fog of sleep, he was imagining his wife joining him. She didn’t dwell on it long; she’d been up against her mother’s ghost almost her entire life and lost. Anyway, this was just about getting a comfortable night’s sleep. That was all.

Jonas wore only his shirt and long-johns, and when Llew pressed back into his chest she was rewarded with immediate heat radiating down the length of her spine and permeating through her body. Relaxing, she settled herself in closer, fitting her rump into the fold of his hips. His arm drooped lazily over her, and he gave an unconscious welcoming hug and relaxed again, the steady pulse of his breathing interrupted by one contented sigh.

As was expected in these situations, Llew brought her hand up behind her, found a gap between long-john buttons and slid her fingers inside, but as she touched the coarse hair the arm that was over her drew back and a strong hand gripped her wrist. He withdrew her hand and, linking his fingers with hers, resumed his casual embrace so that, instead of pleasuring him, she found herself captive to a warm cuddle.

Llew was confused. He was a man; she was a girl; and they were beside one another. Usually, that meant groping and nakedness. Was there something wrong with him? He shuffled back to remove the growing pressure against her lower back. Nothing physically wrong with him, then.

Pondering the quirks of men, Llew fell into a deep, pleasantly warm slumber.

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The morning stirrings of the rest of the camp woke Llew. Shifting in her cocoon, Jonas’s arm squeezed her tight.

“Stay,” he breathed into her hair. She was happy to oblige. A faint glow was the only hint that the sun was due to make any sort of appearance, and the night’s chill prevailed.

Anya, wandering by with the pot to collect water from the river, smiled at the two of them. Returning from his watch post, Alvaro stopped when he saw them, but he gave no smile. Nor did Aris, who showed his dislike by generally keeping his eyes averted; quick glances let them know they hadn’t escaped his notice, though. Emylia’s sensibilities did not consider an unwed girl and young man sharing a bed proper, and her disapproving looks didn’t hide this. Cassidy alone didn’t even appear to have seen them, and his concern focused, instead, on the slow progress of breakfast and the early rising after a too short night of broken sleep.

Llew luxuriated in the shared warmth, but she couldn’t stay long. For one thing, the party had to get on the road and make the most of the cooler morning air before the heat of the day kicked in; for another, she didn’t want to be the cause of disquiet within the group. Reluctantly, she extricated herself from Jonas’s arm and slid from the warmth of his bedroll to start pulling her shoes back on. He watched her with the hint of a smile.

“Brr.”

“Well, get up and moving, then,” she said as she shivered under the touch of her cold jacket. It would warm soon, but that was little consolation in the moment. “What happened to your rigorous military training? Aren’t you supposed to be used to early mornings?”

“Sure I am. But I’m on holiday.”

“Holiday?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“You look cute when you do that.”

She scowled at him. He grinned.

Alvaro, walking past, muttered something under his breath. Llew stooped, collected up Jonas’s jacket, and threw it at the prone figure.

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“Get up,” she said, then rolled up her own bedroll and went to help Cassidy with the horses’ morning rations and with fitting their saddles.

As Llew passed him, Aris stood up from tending the fire and strode back to Jonas, who was untangling himself from his bedding. No matter how much she strained, though, she couldn’t hear their words. Whatever was being said, Aris didn’t look happy. His voice rose enough so they all knew Jonas was being reprimanded, but his words still weren’t clear to anyone not standing right in front of him. Jonas looked like a kicked puppy by the time Aris was finished. Llew watched Aris return to the fire and restrained herself from glaring at him when he looked up at her. His expression wasn’t clear. She still felt like she’d done something wrong. She supposed she had. Girls in polite company did not share their bed with young men, and despite their need to sleep outdoors, she supposed she was in polite company.

Breakfast was quiet, with no one prepared to risk eye-contact with Aris or Jonas. Most of the group were civilians, and it was as though the experienced and highly trained Aris and Jonas were the backbone, providing a structure for the rest of them to work from. To feel that support crumble was unsettling.

Llew kept her horse between her and Jonas while they tightened girth straps and tied saddlebags and bedrolls, but as soon as Aris was involved with getting the carriage horses hitched, she stooped under the golden neck to talk.

“I’m sorry I caused you trouble with Aris,” she said.

“It weren’t your fault.” He didn’t look at her, instead continuing to tie his bedroll in place.

“But if I hadn’t—”

“I said don’t, Llew.”

Llew wanted to punch something. She had finally met a man who didn’t make her cringe when he looked at or touched her and, for some reason known only to him and Aris, he was supposed to do neither. She turned, fists balled, and nearly walked into the shoulder of her horse. The heat of humiliation mixed with her frustration and she raised a fist but caught herself and instead ran her knuckles up and down the horse’s neck. His head extended and his top lip quivered, and she calmed.

“Aris would rather Llew rode up front with me,” Alvaro said as they were taking their places on the road, ready to head out. Behind him, Cassidy nodded and gave Llew and Jonas an apologetic shrug.

Jonas nodded too and flicked his eyes from Llew to the front of the carriage, telling her to go. Her shoulders slumped, but she reluctantly led her horse to the front.

The clop of the horses’ hooves, the jingling of tack and the carriage’s creaks and groans dominated the morning ride. Llew didn’t know what to say to Alvaro. He turned to her several times, even opened his mouth and drew breath as though about to speak, but nothing was forthcoming. Anya pointed out the natural beauty of the passing landscape to those in the carriage, but otherwise even her usual carefree banter was kept in check. Aris’s mood affected everyone.

“You don’t have any brothers or sisters?” Alvaro finally found his voice.

Llew shook her head, and Alvaro fell silent for a few minutes.

“I have a sister,” he continued. “But she’s a lot younger, nearly thirteen.” He turned a knowing smile on Llew – she’d know what it was like to be a girl going into her teen years.

She did. But she supposed it wouldn’t be too bad having a family to go through it with. Finding yourself alone at eleven was something she wouldn’t wish on any girl.

“Cassidy and I grew up like brothers. When he and his mother came to stay in Kas, anyway.”

“Where was his pa?”

“Don’t know. Never had one, as far as I know.”

“Everyone has a pa.”

Alvaro coloured and then rallied. “I guess his ma got cold one evening...”

“Nothing happened, Al.” She didn’t look at him.

“I didn’t mean— It’s just— Not him, Llew. Just— Don’t do that to yourself.”

Llew frowned at him.

“He can’t love you like—”

“You could?”

Alvaro bit back whatever he had been going to say. “Just don’t give your heart to him.”

Llew blinked at him. Somewhere in there, she got the feeling he was asking her to like him instead, but he hadn’t said it. It didn’t matter, anyway.

“It’s my own heart, Al. I plan to keep it to myself.” Didn’t mean she couldn’t play on the attraction Jonas seemed to have for her. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to it, but if things went badly, it wouldn’t hurt to have an ally as powerful and dangerous as Jonas. And his knife. Muscles in her back contracted at the thought of that knife travelling behind her. Perhaps after lunch she would suggest she and Alvaro took up the rear.

It rained persistently for the next few days, making the journey less pleasant. Whether she rode alongside Alvaro, Cassidy or Jonas, they talked little, just kept their heads down, letting the rain pour from the brims of their hats. Anya and Emylia took up almost permanent residence under the canopy of the carriage.

Llew carried out her tasks like the men, catching fish when possible, to break the monotony of their road meals. They stayed in inns whenever their day’s travel brought them to a township for the evening, and Llew now slept with the ladies. On the road she didn’t return to Jonas’s bedroll, despite the growing cold of the autumn evenings, especially after a day being soaked by rain.

They rode into Stelt – Population: 1,550 – just before dinnertime. The sun was already behind the Aghacian mountains, though its rays would linger another hour. To make the stop, they had to veer from the main road and cross a bridge not much wider than the carriage. It was the only way into the town, and it made the sojourn feel like even more of a hindrance to their progress. All the other towns had simply been pauses. Still, Llew would much rather take the time to head into the town than sleep outside again. She pondered on that and concluded that she was getting soft.

Entering the saloon, Llew felt as though she had been there before. Like the inns from previous nights, it was predominantly wooden, with fittings supported by heavy steel plates and bolts; it housed a few tables and chairs, and several patrons. A couple of girls wearing little more than under garments fawned over whoever was winning a game of cards at a corner table, and a few lone drinkers were scattered about other tables. One man slouched over his ale, alone in a corner. Another observed the newcomers with brief curiosity before returning his attention to his drink.

One man sat at the bar cradling a snifter of whisky, as many a man had done at the saloons, inns and bars they had previously visited. Only this man seemed more interested in the new arrivals than any before him. He was dark, with most of his features hidden behind a scraggly beard and shoulder-length hair. His light brown eyes were surprisingly pretty under long eyelashes.

He continued to watch them as they stood at the bar while Aris negotiated their rooms.

When the rooms were booked and the group was turning to head up the stairs, Cassidy approached the man. Llew looked to Aris for his reaction, but he seemed satisfied that the blond young man knew what he was doing.

“I don’t mean to be rude, mister, but may I ask what’s caught your interest?”

“I was just noticing your friend there.” The man inclined his head toward Jonas.

Cassidy followed the man’s gaze.

“I don’t know why. He’s not much to look at, and I don’t think he would reciprocate your interest.” He turned back to the bearded man, his piercing blue eyes warning that the man should lose interest. Quickly.

The man didn’t laugh, but a few whiskers at the corner of his mouth lifted as he appraised Jonas, who stared back with an unreadable expression. The man pulled his gaze away from Jonas and took in the rest of the group, lingering on Llew. She felt uncomfortable being scrutinised and looked away.

“Surprising company you keep.”

Llew turned back. He was looking at her. He was talking to her. “What?”

“I said, “Surprising company you keep.” The man smiled at her confusion. “A fan of the great Syakaran of Quaver, are you?”

Jonas went to lunge at the man, but Aris’s hand on his arm kept him in check. The bar fell silent, though an undercurrent of murmurs continued.

“Oh. You didn’t know. Interesting.” He took a sip of his whisky.

“I suggest you finish your drink and move on, friend.” Aris gave the word “friend” an ominous tone.

“Friend, is it, Aris?” The man sneered. “No love for a long-lost son? Oh, but I was never your son, was I? Not once my brother came along.” His eyes shifted to Jonas. “You’re a long way from home, brother. I trust you’ll keep out of trouble. Wouldn’t want you flying off the handle. Again.” The man threw back the last mouthful of whisky, then stood, patting down his leather coat as if checking he had everything. He had an easy manner and seemed unconcerned by Jonas’s glowering; Jonas seemed unable to act.

The man scooped his hat off the bar and his sleeve pulled back, revealing a chunky metal bracelet with tubes that seemed to dive beneath his skin – but that couldn’t be possible. He afforded Llew a wink as he pressed the hat onto his head.

“Good to see you, Jonas. You’d be proud of your brother’s achievements. I’d love to tell you about it, but it would be so much better to show you. Why don’t you come find me later tonight? I’ll wait for you by the bridge.” He turned for the inn door. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to come alone.” He took a step toward the door and then backtracked, one finger in the air. “On second thoughts, bring the girl.” He looked at Llew.

Her hand flew to the hair at the back of her head. She looked down at the front of her shirt. There was barely the hint of breasts.

The man laughed.

“Your costume is fine. But you are the spitting image of your mother.”

Something in his demeanour changed when he said it. Some hint of emotion. Llew shrank back from the over-familiarity. Something about him scared her to the core, and when he looked at her, he seemed to know her.

“No wonder your father was so protective.” His voice was filled with a sorrow Llew couldn’t understand. She was too rattled to make a move. She had to pull herself together before Jonas took her to the bridge.

Aris continued murmuring to Jonas under his breath. Only the respect he had for the older man kept Jonas under control.

“I’ll let you folk settle into this fine establishment. But I do hope you’ll find time for family while you’re in town.” This time, the man made it to the inn door. He gave them one last smile and a friendly wave before pushing his way through the door and disappearing into the night.

The atmosphere of the inn relaxed, though only slightly. The innkeeper watched Jonas warily, as did several of the bar’s patrons, those still sober enough to be paying attention, anyway. But slowly card games resumed, and the piano struck up again.

The group closed ranks around Jonas as Aris hushed the questions about the man who had known far too much.

“You two go and see to the horses.”

Alvaro and Cassidy did as Aris ordered and headed for the stable.

“Do you mind settling the girls in?” Aris turned to Emylia. “Jonas and I need to have a word.”

“And me,” said Llew, then continued before Aris could object. “He knew about me. I think you should talk to me, too.”

“No, Llew. This is family business,” said Aris.

“Exactly. He knew about my ma—”

“No!”

Llew jumped back half a step and the entire room fell silent again.

“Llew. Braph is a magician. He could pick your thoughts right out of your head,” Jonas said in a husky whisper.

“But I wasn’t thinking about my parents.” Magician?

“A bath will be brought up to your room,” said Aris, as if Llew hadn’t spoken. “I suggest you use it. We will meet down here for a meal later. No one,” he looked pointedly at Llew and then Jonas. “No one will be going anywhere tonight. Do I make myself clear?”

Jonas and Llew nodded to each other, neither looking at Aris.

“So, there is nothing further for you to discuss tonight. Emylia.” Aris motioned for Emylia to take over from there. She nodded and rounded the two girls up.

“Aw, but things were just getting interesting,” said Anya, turning to the stairway.

“Ladies don’t whine, Anya,” said Emylia behind them. “And young ladies do as they’re told.”

Anya didn’t reply as she headed up the stairs. Llew followed, ushered by Emylia.

After a bath and a meal in strained silence, Llew lay in her bed waiting for Anya and Emylia’s breathing to change, indicating that they had crossed the threshold into sleep. When she was sure she was the only one awake, she eased her blankets back and swivelled from the bed. She hadn’t stripped, so only needed to pull on her shoes, her jacket, and then it was the simple matter of slipping out the door. Simple, if its hinges weren’t in need of a little oil. She opened it inch by inch, cringing at every creak and freezing at each shuffle of blankets behind her. When the opening was just wide enough for her thin frame, she slunk through, and then began the painful process of closing it again.

She tiptoed along the corridor, opened and slid through the next door quickly to avoid the racket from the still crowded bar waking those above, then scurried down the stairs; she scooted around drunk men and corseted women, who mostly ignored her in her jacket and trousers and short tousled hair, and finally pushed her way into the clean, crisp air outside.

A hand covered her mouth, and an arm wrapped about her waist, and she was pulled into the shadow of the alley by the inn.