Page 14

Munching on a cheese and meat breakfast pie, Talac strode across the cobblestones, headed for the not very secret door providing access to the outside world. He’d been woken from a deep slumber a few minutes ago, an invitation to hunt thrust into his hand by a bleary eyed messenger. Noting Alia’s signature he’d rushed to dress in a dark green tunic, black pants and boots.

There’d been a large basket full of wonderful smelling baked goods by the main door as he exited into the still grey air of dawn so he’d helped himself. The sky outside promising to be bright and clear eventually but for now coolness nipped at the air, a breeze causing the far off trees by the stream to sway ever so gently.

Talac had been provided few details other than a time and a location. Still, it came as a little bit of a surprise as he neared his destination to note the calibre of the hunting party. There was six of them huddled around Alia, all dressed appropriately in sombre colours, wearing crossbolts strapped to their backs, their expressions deadly serious.

Was this a joke? Not a one of the hunters, excepting Alia, was over three feet tall or above the age of six. Children? Ah, weren’t they adorable. Or perhaps not, as two shot Talac snotty looks of disdain for his tardiness, whilst a third gifted him with a sneer, directed at the breakfast pie he held in his hand. Hurriedly he shoved the last of it into his mouth, chomping down on it quickly.

Alia gave Talac a nod of greeting, blue eyes sparkling with amusement whilst six pairs of eyes remained fixed upon him full of suspicion and silent judgment. Tough crowd.

“Talac, meet Gordo, Leisha, Ilana, Piven, Cathie, and Mellie.”

Alia handed him a crossbolt, a brace of bolts and a chest strap before glancing down at a dark headed girl beside her.

“Leisha will be our hunt leader today. Do you have any instructions for us?”

Chest puffing out with obvious pride, Leisha addressed the group.

“Stay within eyeline. Follow my signals. And…”

The child shot a dark look Talac’s way.

“… remain quiet. Cook is depending upon us, she needs at least ten hares for her stew. We will not let her down.”

Alia and Talac fell to the back of the group as they exited the Lair, hugging the shadows of the battlements before melting into the surrounding woods. The children all moving quickly and quietly. Talac feeling pressured to make an extra effort to follow their example, less he fall any further in their estimation.

Eventually they came to the edge of a lush dell, Leisha holding her fist up, signalling everyone to halt. Matching the hand signals to the actions that followed, Talac presumed she was instructing three of the children to sneak forward through the ferns and lay traps.

A few minutes later the children returned. Leisha then signalled the party into position, creating a large circle around the edges of the dell. Talac unholstered his crossbolt, following Alia’s example. Studying it for a quick moment, noting the slim bolts, perfect for hitting small game and not obliterating it. Holding it at the ready, he watched Leisha standing far off to his right raise one of her hands and slowly fold her fingers down. When the last one came down the children all yelled loudly, a nonsensical war cry. Birds squawked overhead and left their nests whilst ferns and fronds dipped and swayed as small woodland animals raced for shelter.

Talac tracked a nice big floppy eared hare, shooting it in the head, sending the body sprawling.

“Retrieve.”

Leisha instructed as silence abruptly descended once more upon the woods.

Talac made his way forward into the dell, scooping up his prize, whilst the others did the same along with checking the traps.

“Seven.”

Alia studied their results.

“An excellent haul. Piven, you and Ilana carry them back to the Lair. Where to next?”

Addressing Leisha.

“The stream with the rocks that look like a rooster. There are lots of burrows located nearby.”

Twenty minutes later they had six more hares. Alia congratulated the remaining children, requesting they carry the spoils back to the Lair, promising she would bring up the rear with Talac.

The children nodded solemnly, gathering their prizes and hurrying away. At the last moment Leisha winked Alia’s way, wishing her luck, before ducking away into the gloomy woods.

“I hesitate to ask what the wink was about?”

Did the child think he and Alia required some alone time for a dalliance… not that he was averse to a dalliance, but having the blessing of a six year old made Talac feel rather uncomfortable.

“She thinks I’m going to kill you and dispose of the body.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t take it personally.”

“It’s a little hard not to. What exactly am I supposed to have done to earn such treatment?”

“They’re just wary of strangers, and they don’t know how to define you. You’re not a suitor. And you’re clearly hale and hearty, so not on a pilgrimage, or seeking to stay at the Lair.”

“And you are notorious for killing and disposing of any man who doesn’t fit into either of those two categories?”

“Not as such. We get all sorts of tinkers, gypsies and travellers through here, selling and buying. We value their business. And as long as they stick to the marked roads, they’ll be safe.”

“Come now, no rumour starts without some kernel of truth at the core, who did you kill and leave in the woods to rot?”

He was highly suspicious of the rare wide smile Alia sent his way.

“Only the last man who dogged my every step and demanded he be front and centre of my every waking hour.”

“You had a suitor of your own?”

Talac almost stumbled but managed to step over the exposed root at the last second.

“Wait. Do the children think I’m courting you?”

“Hah.”

Her roughened merry laughter sent a few birds flying.

“You should see your face. Be at peace. We both know why you’re so attentive… master spy. Don’t worry, I know you’re no suitor of mine.”

Well, why the hell not? Was his first thought. Alia was beautiful, smart, and solidly built enough that those curves would keep a man entertained for hours on end.

They broke out of the tree line, the warm morning sun chasing away all the shadows that tried to cling to them. Alia waving to a guard on the battlements before heading in the direction of the not so secret portal.

But hold on, the rest of her words hit home.

“You killed a man because he tried to court you?”

“To be fair, it was, as courtships go, a particularly heinous one. Callan was a bard who found his way to us because he’d lost his… inspiration, or muse, or some such thing. Personally, I just thought him lazy. Once he arrived at the Lair and saw all we had achieved, he decided he wanted a big slice of it, and he wanted to do nothing to earn it.”

“He thought by hitching his wagon to you he would get a free pass on working?”

“Yes, in fact, I’m pretty sure he pictured himself reclining on silk cushions, eating freshly baked pastries and strumming his mandolin, whilst we all listened enraptured by his efforts, applauding every note and song he produced.”

“He sounds… interesting.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, he had his good points, he was incredibly handsome for a start, with long raven locks, clear green eyes and to be fair, a beautiful singing voice.”

Hhmmm, Talac wondered what was wrong with his gut, suddenly the breakfast pie wasn’t sitting too comfortably.

“But the moment he opened his mouth, Gods, the never ending flowery crud that spewed out, it was torturous.”

They reached the hidden portal, Alia ducking through, Talac close on her heels.

“Torturous?”

“He wrote a song once describing my hair as sun spun wheat, flowing down a molten golden mead filled languorous river. Oh, and he made up an entire song about a beauty mark beside my mouth, except it was a fleck of manure that I’d picked up from that morning’s ride.”

The laughter that erupted from Talac surprised even him. The look of distaste on Alia’s face as she recalled the memory was priceless. Following her into the stables, entering the sixth stall on the right, a magnificent tan horse shifting nervously upon their entry. Alia making soft soothing noises as she approached, letting the horse smell her before gently stroking the side of its throat. Talac standing at her shoulder studied the horse’s flank, where deep gouges glistened with medicinal smelling herbs. Picking up a brush Alia began to groom the horse, staying judiciously away from its injured flank.

“Killing a man for bad poetry seems kind of… harsh.”

Alia leaned over, speaking quietly.

“I didn’t kill him… well, I don’t think he’s dead, not by my hand anyway. I just took him and his mandolin out into the woods one day, gave him a bag of food and some water, advising him that he’d be better off seeking fame and fortune elsewhere. I thought a private banishment was kinder than a public one. His songs were exceedingly bad, and he was incredibly lazy, but I didn’t think he deserved public humiliation… however, when I returned to the Lair on my own, that’s when the rumours began.”

“Rumours and innuendo are oft times worse than a knife or a sword. At least you can fight back physically then. But word of mouth spreads as quickly as a wildfire.”

“And the more you protest.”

Alia nodded in agreement.

“The guiltier you look. So, instead I said nothing and the legend of the Beast continues to grow.”

“Do you think the Lair populace will be relieved or disappointed when I show my face once more?”

“The majority I think will not care. Unfortunately though, you’ll henceforth have to wear the heavy burden of disappointing a lot of children.”

“Perhaps the blame of my survival will fall upon your shoulders. They might assume you failed to see the act through. Perhaps too smitten thanks to my flattering ways and mesmerising eyes.”

Alia glanced sideways to find Talac actually batting long eyelashes her way. Chuffing a laugh, she patted the wounded horse one last time, gesturing for the Captain to exit before her. The problem was, she did find his grey orbs a tiny bit mesmerising. But her ego couldn’t allow him to have the last word.

“You are forgetting how very, very pretty the bard was. No, they will probably just assume I had a bad bowl of porridge for breakfast. No doubt expecting me to have some elaborate back-up plan in place to see you off this mortal plane in the near future.”

They headed towards the main hall. Alia could do with a bracing cup of herb tea, her mind whirring, trying to come up with some reason why Talac should not seek out his friend, Brandth, to check on his condition. Perri said to keep Talac occupied. How could she convince him to not go about his own business?

“Elaborate plan? For little old me? A snare? A trap? How exactly would you bring me down, fair Beast?”

Heat threatened to fill Alia’s cheeks… were they… were they flirting? Talac’s tone was no different than normal but there was a twinkle in his eyes that was igniting all her instincts. No, she was being silly. The master spy and the Beast? Flirting. Preposterous. But perhaps they were becoming… friends.

That would be refreshing for a woman in her exalted position. To form a friendship with someone who was an equal, who didn’t want anything from her. Someone to chat with and maybe swap the odd passing joke.

“It wouldn’t be a very good trap if I told you about it, would it?”

“True.”

Talac aware of the large number of children hiding behind doors, and clinging to shadows inside the great hall of the Lair. It seems word had spread that the Beast was hunting another victim. It struck him as funny to be considered prey. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this amused.

“What say you and I have a little fun with our audience?”

Alia gave no indication, as they made their way to the beverage table, that she was aware of the many, many small children trying to hide or attempting to look like they were innocently loitering nearby.

“Oh. You have something in mind?”

“I do, if you’re willing to play along?”

Intrigued, yet a little wary, Alia nodded. “Okay.”

She wasn’t sure exactly what Talac was proposing, but whatever it was it would mean he wasn’t trying to visit his friend, Brandth. So, for the interim, she would play along. Forced to admit, even if just to herself, that spending more time with Talac was no real hardship. He was smart, dryly funny, skilled… ruggedly handsome, and hiding a wagon load of secrets. Perhaps if they spent more time together, she would be able to uncover one or two more.

Alternatively, maybe the master spy was only suggesting they spend more time together so he would have a chance to expose more of her own closely held secrets. Never, she would play along but remain on her guard. Alia was no one’s prey.

* * *

Talac ran as fast as he could, even so, it wasn’t fast enough. The tackle coming from his blindspot. The initial hit hurt, his neck snapping to the side, his shoulder thrust back at an awkward angle. But the landing hurt even more, doubly so when his tackler landed on top of him. All air leaving his lungs at once. Talac had no idea where the ball he’d dropped had gone, and he didn’t care right at this moment, desperately trying to suck air in to inflate his lungs.

The crowds roar of approval at the tackle faded abruptly as the game continued on around him. A dozen players racing by, trying to run the ball down.

“You okay?”

Miraculously air inflated his lungs and Talac’s dimming vision cleared enough so that he could see Alia’s dirt smeared smiling face looming above him.

“Rem… remember, we’re only trying to make… it look as if you… are trying to kill me.”

“Oh, you.”

Alia thumped Talac’s shoulder chidingly. Levering herself up and off of him.

Hell, despite all his aches, Talac found himself missing the feel of Alia’s weight and the heat she emanated.

Talac wasn’t actually sure he would have gotten to his feet as gracefully or as quickly without Alia’s helping hand. Giving her a rueful smile as she stepped forward to whack his back several times… perhaps a bit too heartily. Dust rising in a small cloud behind him, his lungs and ribs issuing a protest.

Quickly he took a step away from her ministrations.

“Thanks. I’m good.”

Or he would be, although he feared that tomorrow morning all his muscles would not be as pliable as they were right now.

“Come on.”

Alia signalled that she and Talac were leaving the field. Two waiting players, one with a blue ribbon tied around their arm and one with a red ribbon trotted out to take their places. Keeping the ball game in progress.

On the side lines Talac took a seat on an available crate, accepting gratefully a large goblet of water, drinking it all down in one go.

Taking a seat beside him, Alia was aware of a large number of children side eyeing them, trying to gauge Talac’s well-being.

“Let me guess, you intend to keel over any moment now, grapple for your throat and issue a death rattle in order to entertain our watchers?”

Talac shook his head.

“I believe I might be done for the day. To be honest, if I lay down right at this moment, I’m not necessarily sure I could get up again right away. You hit hard.”

“It’s a competition. You’re on the opposing team. I’m supposed to hit hard.”

“It’s just a game.”

“Oh-ho, just a game. Says you, who sent Pelsie to the healers when you took the ball away from him. Or how about when you swept Trevor aside? The man flew half way down the field after your hit.”

“It seems we are quite the competitive pair.”

Talac grinned.

Yes, they were. And not just that. All day they’d worked surprisingly well together to entertain and thwart their trailing group of badly hidden stalkers. Setting up incident after incident where it looked like Talac’s life might be imperilled, and yet each and every time… thanks seemingly to luck, he survived.

At the stables he missed having a haybale dropped on his head by the sheerest of margins. Even Alia’s heart had skipped a beat for a moment, but Talac’s reflexes proved superior to the task.

During a stop at the tannery Talac ended up having to save himself from falling into a vat of red dye, after Alia accidently stumbled and elbowed him in the back. The tanning master’s whispered assurances that the pulley hook situated above the vat could take Talac’s weight had thankfully been proven right.

Talac’s brilliant idea of being locked in the cold room yet another clever ruse. Alia hiding herself nearby, watching the children’s eyes widen with dismay and surprise as Talac removed the hinges, opened the locked door, and then kindly reaffixed the door. All the while exclaiming how bizarre it was that he’d found himself in the locked cold room.

Talac gratefully accepted another goblet of water, the crowd around them roaring at the antics on the field.

Alia lifting her face to the sun. Enjoying the rare almost peaceful moment.

“Thank you for being such a good sport today.”

“I had fun.”

Surprised to discover it was the truth. He’d enjoyed every moment plotting and executing all the incidents with Alia.

“Congratulations, you survived the day. I think even the children will concur that an adversary that could survive all the Beast’s traps and snares deserves to live.”

“No plans to fake poison me at dinner?”

“Poison is a weak weapon. Only cowards and the conniving would utilise it.”

“So, we can enjoy our dinner in peace then?”

Um, was that an invitation? They did have to eat. However, they’d spent the whole day together. Talac wasn’t tired of her company yet? They never seemed to run out of topics to talk about. Perhaps they really were becoming friends. The master spy and the Beast? One whose job, whose entire life, revolved around uncovering and bringing into the light other people’s secrets.

Well, Alia was neither na?ve nor foolish. She was the Beast. She ruled the Lair. Governed a thousand people. Ran a multitude of successful businesses. She would not stumble and spill anything of value from her lips because a ruggedly handsome man with sturdy shoulders treated her… treated her like a woman and an equal.

A woman who was in truth right at this moment plotting a murder, don’t forget that little fact Alia, she reminded herself.

Gods above, life was complicated and getting to know Talac was making it more so. Damn, and she was forgetting that if Perri did manage to get them an invite to the Golden Palace, then she would be travelling with Talac to what was effectively his home.

Alia’s head beginning to ache just thinking about what Talac would make of her being chosen as Gloomenthrall’s bridal candidate. Would he think it a joke? Would he try to uncover her real reasons for wanting to go? Most importantly of all, would he get in her way if he did uncover the truth?

Too many thoughts. So, she did what she always did when the mountain of responsibilities and troubles grew too high and threatened to smother her. She pushed them aside, and dealt with what was immediately on her plate.

“Yes. Dinner would be good. Before then I suggest you head to the bathhouse. A soak in one of the tubs will help reduce any residual soreness and should allow you to rise and walk tomorrow fairly pain free.”

“Hah. So you do admit you hit me hard?”

Alia shrugged, almost smiling.

“I’m the Beast.”

She reminded, in case he was in danger of forgetting.

“I don’t know how to hit any other way.”