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By Root 1241 0

from the innkeep’s quarters by a wickerwork partition, were a couple of wobbly tables. At one sat a gaggle of farmers, gossiping over their ale; at the other, two men, both road-stained, both armed. Carra stopped in the shadowy curve of the wall by the door; when she snapped her fingers and pointed down, the dogs sat and Nedd fell back a step or two. In the smoky light of a smoldering fire she could see the pair fairly clearly: warriors, by the easy arrogant way they sat, but their stained linen shirts bore no blazons at the yokes or shoulder. One, blond and burly with a heavy blond mustache, looked young; the other, sitting with his back to her, was more slender, with wavy raven-dark hair. When the passing innkeep threw a couple of handfuls of small sticks onto the fire, it blazed with a flare of light, glinting on the pommel of the knives that the men wore at their belt. Three distinctive little knobs. Silver daggers, little better than criminals if indeed they were better at all, or so she’d always been told. Behind her Nedd growled like one of the dogs.

“True enough,” she whispered. “Let’s get out of here.”

But as she stepped back the burly blond saw her and raised a dented tankard her way with a grin.

“Here, lad, come on in and join us. Plenty of room at the table.” His voice sounded oddly decent for a man of his sort.

She was about to make a polite refusal when the dark-haired fellow slewed round on the bench to look her over with enormous cornflower-blue eyes. He was clean-shaven and almost girlishly handsome; in fact, she’d never seen such a good-looking man among her own people. As she thought about it, his chiseled features reminded her of the Westfolk and even, because of his coloring, of her Dar. He rose, swinging clear of the bench with some of Nedd’s catlike ease, making her a graceful bow, and the warmth of his smile made her blush.

“Lad, indeed!” His voice was a soft tenor, marked by a lilting accent that reminded her of the Westfolk as well. “Yraen, you’re growing old and blind! My lady, if you’d care to join us, I swear on what honor I have left that you’re perfectly safe.”

The dogs were thumping their tails in greeting. When she glanced at Nedd, she found him staring at the raven-haired stranger.

“He looks decent enough to me,” she whispered.

Nedd nodded with one of his eloquent shrugs, registering surprise, perhaps, to find a man like this on the edge of nowhere. Carra gestured the dogs up, and they all went over, but Nedd insisted on sitting on the floor with Thunder and Lightning. She settled herself in solitary comfort on one bench while the raven-haired fellow went round to join his friend on the other.

“My name’s Rhodry,” he said as he sat down. “And this is Yraen, for all that he’s got a nickname for a name.”

Yraen smiled in a rusty way.

“My name is Carra, and this is Nedd, who’s sort of my servant but not really, and Thunder and Lightning.”

The dogs thumped their tails; Nedd bobbed his head. The innkeep came bustling over with a big basket of warm bread for the table and a tankard of ale for her. He also brought news of roast chickens, and while he and Yraen wrangled about how many there’d be and how much they’d cost, Carra had a brief chance to study the silver daggers, though most of her attention went to Rhodry. It wasn’t just because of his good looks; she simply couldn’t puzzle out how old he was. At times he would grin and look no older than she; at others, melancholy would settle into his eyes and play on his face like a fever, and it would seem that he must be a hundred years old at the least, to have earned such sadness.

“Innkeep?” Rhodry said. “Bring some scraps for the lady’s dogs, will you?”

“I will. We butchered a sheep yesterday. Plenty of spleen and suchlike left.”

Carra gave the man a copper for his trouble. Yraen drew his dagger and began to cut the bread in rough chunks.

“And where is my lady bound for?” His voice was dark and rough, but reassuringly normal all the same.

“I… um, well… to the west, actually. To visit kin.”

Yraen grinned and raised an eyebrow,