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CHAPTER ELEVEN

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THE THREE OF US STARED at Grevin for a moment, as his horse stood with its head drooped in exhaustion. Distracted for a moment by the animal’s condition, he leaned forward and spoke gently to it, patting its sweat-soaked neck.

“Your horse needs tending,” Trey said into the awkward silence.

“So does your sword,” I added. I pulled a rag from my ever-present shoulder bag and tossed it to him. “I won’t need to have that returned.”

Grevin wiped the sword clean and slipped it into the scabbard at his side; he had the baldric he wore adjusted for a side draw. He dismounted, holding the reigns in one hand. It took a lot to wear out an Adrathean horse; that he had done so spoke volumes about what he’d been through since we’d met.

“Follow me,” Trey said, turning his horse with a shift of his weight. “It’s not far.”

The two of them went back to the log and its spring, where in due time Grevin would water his weary steed. Sid and I dismounted and dragged the bodies into the bushes beside the road, concealing them as best we were able. The blood on the dusty road was a bit more of a problem, but we managed. Any travelers who passed in the near future, and there were bound to be a few, would be none the wiser.

“Regent’s men?” Sid guessed.

“Can’t imagine who else it would be.”

“What shall we do with these?” Sid held up the brace of pistols we’d taken from the bodies. We’d come in so suddenly that only one man had drawn his, and he’d died first.

“We’ll give them to Trey. He has a means of disposing of such items.” That seemed good enough for Sid, as she didn’t ask me how it might be done. With that, we hurried to catch up with Trey and the librarian as soon as we could.

“You do not seem much surprised to see me,” Grevin said.

“I’m actually stunned and amazed,” I replied.

“The manner of your arrival has forestalled the usual reaction.” Sid gave the sword he bore a pointed look. “I’ve seen that blade before.”

“Um, yes.” Grevin’s face reddened. “Forgive me, m’lady. I was on my way to the hostel when I found myself pursued. Of necessity, I put it to use.” He patted the neck of the still sweating horse. “I am now also a horse thief.” He glanced back to where the bodies had briefly decorated the road. “Surely the lesser of my crimes.”

“I do not believe any crimes have been committed here,” she told him. “Keep the sword as long as needs be. You fought bravely and have honored my blade.” She made the sign of the Two.

Grevin nodded in acknowledgment, but didn’t look in the least bit reassured.

“It’s not in the animal’s best interest,” said Trey, “but don’t unsaddle her. We dare not linger.”

“No, that would be unwise.” Grevin nodded as he spoke. “The Regent is not known for giving up when he wants something.”

“Let’s take off, then, and get away from the road,” I suggested. And in a few minutes we were leading the horses cross country, leaving as little sign of our passage as possible, and concealing it when we were able.

There was no talk for some time, and picking up on the mood of the group, I bit back on the questions I had. Trey led us through meadows and woodlots of the common land in the hill country west of Morvain, avoiding the broad valley the road followed, with its field and villages. As the sun dropped lower before us, Trey turned aside and brought us to a small brook with grassy banks, shaded by willows and alders. The horses were unsaddled and properly cared for, and I set up wards that this time were calibrated to detect approach from above, as well as around our camp.

Everything seemed to catch up with Grevin at about the time we got the campfire going. He settled down before it and went from being less than talkative to completely unresponsive. By unspoken agreement we left him to it, gathering fuel, filling water bottles, securing the horses, and setting wards. I did most of the cooking, being a better than fair hand as a camp cook. Sid tended to making tea of a sort that soothes, rather than stimulates. As we ate our evening meal — Trey sighed for the want of wine with dinner and Grevin ate with modest appetite — the three of us exchanged glances and nods. I led the way.

“What happened, after we left the university?” I asked.

“Sidraytha’s sword was sure to prompt questions that I did not want to answer,” Grevin began, “and so I went to a storeroom meaning to lock it up until I was free to run the errand. That decision saved me.” He looked around at us, dark eyes wide in the gathering twilight. “The storeroom was close to a side exit, so I left the building that way instead of walking back through the library. When I came around to the front of the building there were Regent’s guards pouring into the library. I ducked out of sight just in time.”

“One of the students was a spy,” Sid told him, and then filled in the details on the inspection of our bags.

Grevin nodded. “You had been gone long enough that I assumed it was me they sought for questioning. Those taken for such inquiries seldom return. I retrieved the sword, hid it under my robes and at first tried to make my way to your hostel, where I hoped to seek sanctuary. But the hostel was being closely watched.”

“No surprise there,” I said, with a glance at Sid.

“As the day wore on, I slowly made my way toward the gate.” Grevin shrugged. “I could not go back to the university, where I lived. Staying in the city meant capture, sooner or later. Though where I meant to go after I was outside I could not say. Assuming I could get out at all.”

“The gate was surely being watched, by then,” Trey said.

“And it was, indeed,” Grevin said to him. “A contingent of the Regent’s personal guards, eight I believe, were there with the usual city guards. There was a dispute between them. Something to do with refusing to surrender control of the gate without proper authorization. Such conflicts have become rather common, these days. It grew heated enough that blows were exchanged and weapons drawn. A heavy wagon was being hauled out as this happened. Keeping the wagon between me and the fight at the gate, which drew a noisy crowd of onlookers, I managed to get out.

“I was at a loss, then, for what to do next. Making for the Abbey made sense, but on foot, dressed as I am,” and he glanced down at his now dusty and blood-stained robes, “well, I surely would not have gone far. The fight at the gate had the attention of those beyond it, as well. No one was watching me at all. There is an inn near the gate, and there were horses tied up outside by those who had stopped for a beer.” Grevin looked to the mare he’d ridden. “I stole this one and rode off. Left the road and hid in the woods for the night, then rode on again at first light. I decided to try the road, though not the main road, rather than ride cross country.”

“That didn’t work out too well,” I said.

“So it seemed, at first,” he replied. Plate cleaned of food — he had eaten methodically, if without enthusiasm — he set it aside and sipped tea. “But it did lead me to you in the end.”

“Well, we can only hope that’s in your long-term best interest,” I said, raising my steaming cup to him.

Grevin gave a snort of laughter and answered my salute. “It could hardly be worse.”

I decided that it was the wrong time to tell him about the manticores.

“You acquitted yourself well with the sword,” Sid told him.

In the flicker of the firelight, we all looked a bit grim, tired as we were. Well, except for Trey. He always looks rather grave, even when well-rested. But Grevin, just then, looked old and gaunt. “Bah!” he shook his head. “But for the Alvehn’s well-aimed dagger, I would be dead now.”

“No,” and Sid shook her head. “I know skill when I see it. You would have bested him in the end.”

Grevin looked sheepish but said, “I know how to use a sword. I did survey work with my father, out west of the mountains. Banditry was common, and the treaty between Morva and the Tribes does not apply out there. So we needed to be able to defend ourselves. My trainer claimed I had a knack, but I stayed with cartography when that adventure ended, though I still practice, more for the exercise than anything. And I coach those who learn the sword at the University. I think I mentioned that yesterday.” He paused and sipped tea for a while. “I’ve never killed anyone, though. Until today.”

“It troubles you,” Trey said. “That’s perfectly understandable.”

Grevin stared at him. “It troubles me that I never hesitated. I saw my moment and struck, as if it were the most natural of all things.”

“In that moment, it was the most natural of all things,” Sid replied.

“Kill or be killed,” I added with a shrug. “You made the same choice in that instant that anyone else would have taken.”

“I hear what you say,” Grevin muttered. “But I cannot feel any relief that it turned out that way. I could see — I saw his face in that instant, when he knew his life was over, and it... ah, it was...” His words were suddenly shut off by a jaw clamped tight as he struggled for self-control.

“Peace, my friend,” Trey said gently. “You did no wrong in this. Your regret makes that plain. The man you killed made his own choice, and that placed him in harm’s way. The responsibility was his, not yours.”

Sid nodded in approval.

“I know here,” and he tapped his head, “that you are right.” He put that hand over his heart. “Here — well, that’s another matter. And yet, I know now that I would make the same choice again, and be less likely to hesitate.”

“That’s just as well,” I said. “Because if you ride with us, it’ll surely happen again.”

“Ride with you?” The notion clearly startled him, but then Grevin shrugged and looked resigned. “Well, I suppose that makes sense. After all, where else would I go? Save for you three, all I know lies behind me in the city. But why would you have me in your company?”

Not a happy fellow, our former librarian. Not that I could blame him for a bit of negativity, just then. Or suspicion.

“Your knowledge and skill with a blade may well be of use to us,” Trey said.

“And we got you into this mess,” I pointed out.

“Good fortune brought you within our reach,” Sid told him. “God and Goddess, we’ve been given the chance to make amends because of that.”

“It does not seem a strange chance that I would encounter you, of all people?” Grevin asked. “You would trust such a coincidence?”

“There are only two roads leading away from the city and headed toward the Abbey,” I replied. “Like us, you tried to avoid the obvious route and took this back way to Westla. It isn’t all that much of a coincidence.”

Trey peered at him in the uneven firelight. There was a glint of blue in the palm of his right hand, for just a moment. I doubt the other two saw it. “You are not working for the Regent,” he said. His voice was as soft as his words were certain. “The Regent is not so trusting as to send out an agent without some means of controlling that person. You are not under his control.”

“How can you be so sure?” Grevin asked.

“I am sure,” Trey replied. “Leave it at that. And join with us.”

Grevin looked into the flames for a long moment. “I am no warrior, m’lord Alvehn.”

“And I am no lord, though I be of that kindred. I believe your place is with us now.” And he smiled as the librarian looked up at him.

“You must not underestimate your skill with a blade.” Sid and I sat on either side of Grevin. She tapped the hilt of what had been her sword with her fingertips. “This blade of my family has a name, you know. Esyoma is that name, in the language of the Isles.”

Grevin laughed briefly. “Then I shall need this sword.” To the puzzled look she gave him, Grevin replied, “Yes, I know the speech of your people. That word is courage in the common tongue. If you consent that I bear it for now, I will have found courage, indeed.”

We all laughed a little then, and toasted each other with our mugs of tea. With that, Grevin of the University became a member of our company. I laughed easily enough, because Trey had cleared him and the man just seemed to fit in. Call it a gut feeling borne of long experience. Nothing was said of the life he was leaving behind. If Grevin wished it discussed, that would be his business.

Even with the wards up, we decided to take turns standing watch. Trey started out, followed by Sid. When I relieved her, she stood for a while with me, clasping my hand. Then, without a word, she kissed me lightly and returned to the fire we’d kept up through the night. I decided to let Grevin sleep when his turn came, being accustomed to long watches, but something roused him in the hour before dawn and he joined me where I sat tending the fire.

“You should have awakened me,” he chided.

“I thought you should get more sleep,” I replied. “You had a busy day yesterday.”

“I appreciate that, but really...”

“It’ll be light soon,” I said. “Feel free to sit up with me if you like.”

“Thanks.” We were quiet for a moment, then Grevin asked, “Does it ever become easy? Killing, I mean.”

“No,” and I shook my head. “The life I’ve needed to live, well, I guess I got used to not getting used to it. It’s a matter of reflex, really. People are trying to kill you, so you try to stop them. Sometimes killing the other bastard is the only choice.” I met his eyes. “That’s what happened to you, yesterday. I saw that knife hit, and it wasn’t a mortal wound. Sid is right about your abilities, but she was being too kind at the same time. Could have gone either way, with him dying on your sword, or you dying on his.”

“It almost sounds simple, put that way.”

“It isn’t,” and I shook my head. “It’s just really complicated in the blink of an eye.”

“Getting used to not getting used to it,” Grevin repeated. “That’s well said.”

“Not my words, actually.” I shook my head again. “Though I’m damned if I recall where I first heard them.” For some reason an old television show my parents had been fond of came to mind. I decided that was an explanation I had no desire to attempt.

“A matter of necessity, then, and not something done for gratification,” he said, nodding.

“Gratification? No, never that. Mind you, I’ve killed people who deserved it. And I’ve killed others in a fair fight that I’d have spared, if they’d given me the choice. But no, I’ve never learned to actually like it.”

Grevin hunched his shoulders against the predawn chill, clutching the blanket he’d been given over his chest. An uncertain grey light was beginning to lift the night from the world. “Have you ever met a man who enjoyed the killing?”

“Just once,” I replied, and shuddered. Even Edren had joined the effort to eliminate that one, the closest to an embodiment of pure evil that I’ve ever met.

“What did you do?”

I shrugged, not really wanting to greet a brand new day with that tale.

“I killed him,” I replied, and left it at that.