Page 53 of Tusks & Saddles
“Good night, Miss Eaves.”
Welborn made his way up the creaky old stairs of the inn. When his boots hit the top of the landing, Welborn couldn’t help but steal one last glance at Miss Eaves. She was still at the table, as still as a painting as the patrons ofCutter’scontinued with theirrevelry—though at a much less boisterous pace as they had done earlier.
The cleric held onto the image of Miss Eaves, even after he found his room. Once inside, Welborn locked the door and started removing his vestments. He needed to think clearly about how he was going to set off in the morning.
Welborn would need a horse, rations, and traveling supplies. He had seen tents, rope, and simple tools atIrongarde Generalwhile investigating the disappearance of the High Cleric. Affordable in comparison to the horse he would need to buy. There was a possibility the local stable had other traveling animals besides horses. One that maybe wasn’t ideal but could be worth half the price?
He was so absorbed in his thoughts, Welborn almost didn’t hear the light rapping on his door. Welborn stared at the door, his robe sleeves caught around his arms. Hesitating for a moment, Welborn cautiously eyed the door, recalling Miss Eaves warning about danger.
“It’s me,” Miss Eaves’ voice called from the other side of the door.
Relief and anxiety of an entirely different kind stiffened Welborn’s spine. He pulled the sleeves of his robes back over his shoulders and approached the door. His hands flexed as he took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart in a few precious seconds before opening the door.
Welborn should’ve expected it, but he was still thrown off by how accustomed he had become to having Miss Eaves’ weapon aimed at his face. The shiny metal end was inches from his nose.
“Miss Eaves!” he exclaimed.
“I told youthe city was dangerous, didn’t I? If I was anybody else, you would be dead by now,” she scolded.
Welborn blushed a dark green, “I understand the need to be cautious, but I was not expecting you to put your weapon in my face before saying hello!”
“First lesson, holy man; anyone can turn on you with a flip of a gold coin. If you’re going to go into the Wastelands, you need to be more prepared. I can’t stress that enough,” Miss Eaves grumbled as she not so gently pushed her weapon closer.
Welborn followed her lead, walking slowly back into the room while eyeing the weapon cautiously. He wasn’t sure how much of this was Miss Eaves trying to teach him a lesson so much as perhaps he had been foolish to have trusted her in the first place. Welborn wasn’t the type to be a sucker for a pretty face—especially one he had never seen—but he was starting to regret his curiosity.
Miss Eaves shut and locked the door behind her, keeping her weapon trained on him as she continued to encroach into his space. She backed him up until Welborn felt his calves hit the bed. The implication—and perhaps his attraction—caused a storm to swirl in his stomach.
Not for the first time, Welborn found it frustrating that he could not see her eyes. There was no way for him to gauge exactly what she was playing at in the moment. He debated the possibility of fighting her, depending on how the next minute of their encounter went. Though he didn’t like the idea of having to subdue her, Welborn preferred it if he stayed alive—at least for one more evening.
“Was I supposed to prepare for this? Whatever…this is?”
Was it weird to be attracted to a woman who was threatening him? It was something inane that entered Welborn’s head and made him consider reaching out to his older brother if he survived. While they had not had a face-to-face conversation in over a decade, Welborn was an adult, and he figured Boone was overdue on giving him brotherly advice about women.
“You should always be prepared, Welborn,” Miss Eaves scolded. “Preparation is half the battle, and seeing how you’re woefully unprepared for the task at hand tomorrow—”
Okay, well, you didn’t need to rub it in, Welborn thought.
“—and knowing that you are way too devoted to wait for a proper adventurer or mercenary to take over this monumental task for you, I have no other choice but to take charge of the situation.”
Miss Eaves lowered her weapon and holstered it to her side. Welborn stared, genuinely confused.
“You what?”
“You heard me,” she said. “Letting you go out into the Wastelands by yourself is, frankly, irresponsible. Even with your god’s divine blessing. There are some things that even the gods can’t protect you from. Especially out there.”
Miss Eaves wasn’t wrong. Welborn was far too familiar with the limits of what the gods could do. That lesson had been taught to him when he was fifteen and despite his mother’s prayers, there had been no saving her from death. Welborn had barely been saved.
“You’re going to help me?”
“Somebody has to. And unlike Gimdor, I’m in the position where I can. I’ll even offer you a payment plan. I assume you would be open to that.”
“Yes, yes, absolutely! Thank you so much, Miss Eaves! You have no idea how much I appreciate your help! I would probably be lost without you helping me.”
The relief and knowing that he wouldn’t have to travel into the wilderness alone flooded Welborn. Knowing that the woman he was enamored with and admired was willing to help him—even for gold—pleased him more than he would’ve cared to admit. Yet, even though he wanted to keep those thoughts private, Welborn couldn’t stop the burn to his skin at the realization that he was alone in a room with a bed…and this woman.
Perhaps Miss Eaves could tell what he was thinking, although he doubted that she had any arcane abilities. She was very good at observing people, and as always, she had the advantage because of her veil. Whatever the reason, she lifted a gloved hand and pressed her pointer finger firmly against the center of Welborn’s chest.
“Just because I’m willing to do this for you doesn’t mean that this doesn’t come with some conditions. First of all, you do what I say when I say. I don’t want any talk back. I don’t want any arguing. If I tell you to go jump off a cliff, you jump off that cliff. Do you understand?”
