Page 56 of Grave Situation

I barely hear that last part, my brain fixed on the thought that he’s going to touch me again later. I make a barely intelligible sound of agreement and manage to gasp out “Tea,” before racing out the door, my shirt still untucked and unlaced.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

My hopesand dreams are fulfilled, and we spend another two glorious days in the comfortable room at the inn. Despite my apprehension—and anticipation—the next application of bruise balm was uneventful, entirely because Tia was in the room with us. I’m still not sure if I’m happy about that or not.

Master contacted me shortly after I returned to the room with a pot of hot water for tea, and assured us that Haftel and King Brend of Lenle had promised to send a squad of the King’s Own Guard—which is a stupid name—to escort us. Tia was pleased about that. Apparently they’re the finest fighters in the country. I was more interested in how fast they ride, but it didn’t seem appropriate to ask if they were dawdlers.

They’re not, because late the third morning, two men in uniform, armed to the teeth, ride into the innyard. I just happen to be on the window seat at that precise moment, enjoying the sunshine in a civilized, indoor way. The rain that’s plagued us for the last two days cleared yesterday afternoon. It’s probably muddy outside, though, so I don’t see any reason to venture from the inn.

I glare sourly at the two soldiers dismounting. They just couldn’t ride slowly, enjoy being out on the road, could they? No. They had to beefficient.

Sighing, I get up and go to meet them. Tia’s off with Leicht, scouting, so she’ll have seen them and probably be on the way back. Jaimin, fully rested and back to his old self after the first day, has been visiting with villagers since. He heard that there hasn’t been a healer here since the old one died a year ago, and he’s taken it upon himself to attend to all the small ailments for which the villagers don’t bother traveling to the nearest village with a healer. They’re suitably grateful, and even though he’s told them he doesn’t want payment, we’ve already been sent a range of foodstuffs and goods. The cider and sweet preserves, I appreciated. The live hen, not so much. I suppose it doesn’t matter—we won’t be able to take much with us. We returned some, and the food we’ve been having for our meals here. The cook has been very pleased with the sudden influx of extra supplies.

At the base of the stairs, I’m met by the innkeeper. He’s frowning. “Mister Silverbright”—I deliberately didn’t tell him I’m a mage. It’s bad enough they all know Jaimin’s a healer—“there’s some men looking for you and your friends. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see them or not, so I said you weren’t here.”

Aw. I’m going to believe that’s because he’s so fond of me and my amazing personality, and not because I paid in advance for a week and have been tipping like a drunk lord. “Some men?” I say, putting on a quizzical face. “Did they leave?” Possibly I can delay our departure until after lunch. I heard roast chicken is on today’s menu.

“No.” He wrings his hands. “They laughed and said they’d wait in the yard while we fetched you.” His voice lowers. “They’resoldiers. From the King’s Own Guard!”

Well, damn. So much for delaying. I muster a smile and pat his arm. “Ah, you should have said. That’s our escort. I’ll just go out and speak with them. No need for them to bring their muddy boots inside.”

His smile is a combination of relief and disappointment. “Escort? You’re leaving?”

“As much as it pains me, yes. Is lunch nearly ready, do you know?”

He blinks. “I’ll go check.”

While he ventures into the kitchen, I go in search of the soldiers. Sadly, they haven’t decided to leave, but are waiting for me in the yard, watering their horses at the trough by the gate.

“I believe you were looking for me?” I avoid the only remaining mud puddle as I stroll over to them. The sun’s been doing good work, even if it is winter-weak.

They turn to face me. One has an insignia on his shoulder that I’m guessing is supposed to signify rank. Too bad I have no idea what it means. They’re wearing gray tunics under leather vests, heavy riding trousers, and leather hats that look like helmets. The ranking one is middle-aged and has a brown beard and a scar slashing across his nose; the other is clean-shaven and blond. He’s also younger and eyeing me skeptically, which is yet another sign I should have stayed upstairs in my sunny spot by the window.

“Were we?” He smirks.

I shrug. “You’d be the one who knows. If you’re not sure, I’m going to have lunch. What do you Lenlese usually serve with roast chicken?”

They’re taken aback by that and exchange glances. “Uh… root vegetables and gravy is popular,” the older one says slowly. “Sometimes beans.”

“Excellent.” My stomach rumbles at the mere thought, and I turn back toward the inn.

“Wait!”

Gods’ turds. Facing them again, I raise a brow. “Yes?”

“Are you the person we’re here to meet, or not?” The younger one—Blond—folds his arms across his admittedly impressive chest.

“Again, only you’d know that. I’m Talon Silverbright, if that helps.” Look how nice and forgiving I’m being.

They exchange glances again. “You’re Talon Silverbright?” the older one—Scar—asks.

“Yes.” The sun goes behind a cloud, and I shiver, glancing up. There better not be more rain coming. It’s bad enough I’ll have to deal with arrogant soldiers, without adding rain to the mix.

“Prove it,” Blond demands, jutting his chin out.

I look at him and try not to blink in surprise. “Proveit? How, precisely? Would you like me to produce my mother from my pocket so she can attest to having given birth to me?” Does he realize how ridiculous he is?

His face flushes. “Talon Silverbright is amage. Do something magic—if you’re really him.” The last words are infused heavily with doubt, and I sigh.

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