Small Magics (57 page)

She stumbled into the inn, holding her face and weeping. A short eternity later, two men emerged from the inn and began to help with the horses. Several others began bringing out baskets of food. The soldiers tore into the meal, shoving the food down their throats and tossing the baskets aside.

Harriet came back with a larger basket and held it out to Randolf. “For the bishop.”

Randolf dismounted and took the basket. Harriet stepped back, trembling, as soon as it left her hands. Randolf opened the basket and inspected the contents, then carried the basket to the carriage and knocked at the door. It opened and Randolf passed the basket inside. Thomas tried to see in, but the door obscured his view. Randolf stepped away, hands empty, and closed the door.

By now, the last of the horses were free of their traces and headed for the barn. The bishop’s men had all dismounted, attending to their horses or their own bodily needs. The torches had been planted in the earth, forming a wide circle of fire in the dirt of the inn yard. Men and women from the inn came back and forth, bringing food and drink, or carrying away empty plates and cups. Thomas, tired of crouching, allowed himself to sink to a sitting position and lay down the weapons that he had been clutching. His hands were sore and cramped from his too-tight grip. He rubbed them together and kept watching. So far, no one in the bishop’s train had made a move toward the inn, and Thomas prayed it would stay that way.

Footsteps, moving fast and quiet behind him, caught his attention. He grabbed up both the weapons and twisted, nearly impaling George and Eileen. The two ground themselves to a stop and jumped back. George had brought his bag, and was obviously ready to run. Thomas put the weapons down, and couldn’t help but snort at the sight of the luggage.

“What?” George whispered.

“Nothing,” Thomas whispered back, shaking his head. “It’s just that we’re probably the first ones to try to sneak out
after
they’ve paid.”

George snorted back, but kept it quiet. “What’s happening out there?”

“They’re changing the bishop’s horses.”

“So he’s not staying?”

“I don’t think so, but that doesn’t mean they’re not going to go inside.”

“That’s what I thought,” Eileen said. “There’s no sign we were there, now.”

“Unless someone asks after us,” George pointed out.

“Then let’s hope they don’t,” said Thomas.

George peeked around the corner. “They’re bringing horses out.”

Eileen and Thomas joined him. Eileen surreptitiously put her hand on one of Thomas’s, and though he was still holding his dagger in it, he unwrapped two fingers from the grip to grasp hers. The stable boy and two men from the inn brought six fresh horses out of the barn. The boy, obviously the most practiced at the task, harnessed the horses with quick, angry motions. His loathing for the bishop’s familiar was plain on his face, but he kept his mouth shut and did what he was told.

Randolf had remounted his horse and watched the boy with contempt.

Thomas touched George’s shoulder, then Eileen’s, and pointed. The inn door was open, and at least a half-dozen men stood there, watching. Thomas thought he spotted weapons in their hands, but no one was making any moves. To attack the bishop’s men was to invite certain death, if not in the combat itself, then in the investigation that would follow. Even so, there was enough anger radiating off the men in the inn door that, had any of the bishop’s men tried to come in, a fight would almost certainly have ensued.

The bishop’s men must have sensed it. Despite Randolf’s casual brutality, there were no hostile moves on anyone’s part. By the time the last horse was tied in place, all the men were mounted and ready to go.

Harriet, who had been quietly serving the food and collecting the baskets, stepped forward. Randolf looked down his nose at her, his disdain clear on his face. Harriet stood her ground. “All this costs money.”

“So it does,” Randolf sounded amused.

“Are you going to pay for it?”

Randolf sneered down at her. “Call it your tithe to the High Father.”

He turned in his saddle and barked an order to his men. Torches, once more in hands, flickered and waved wildly as the men turned their horses and, with quick jabs of their heels into their beasts’ flanks, moved out. The bishop’s driver slapped the backs of the horses with his reins and called out a command, turning them and sending them out of the yard. Thomas felt Eileen’s hand squeezing his as the first riders left, and squeezed back. George pushed himself off the wall and picked up his bag. “We need to get back inside.”

“What’s the rush?” asked Eileen.

“No one will be very impressed with us if they thought we were sneaking out at the sight of trouble.”

“Not to mention that they might start asking
why
we were sneaking out,” added Thomas, letting go of Eileen’s hand and sheathing his weapons. He picked up his own bag, then captured her hand for the walk back in. “I would hate for them to think there might be a reward out for us.”

George raised an eyebrow at the hand-holding, but only said, “Given what just happened, I don’t think anyone’s going to be turning you in to the bishop’s men tonight.”

“Maybe not,” agreed Thomas, “but it can’t hurt to be safe.”

They crossed the inn yard quickly and, making certain that no one was looking, crept up to their rooms. George led the way, showing them up the stairs to a hallway which ran the length of the building. They had been given three rooms in a row, and George had claimed the one closest to the stairs—the better to reach bath and breakfast in the morning. He opened the door and revealed a rather small space, perhaps ten feet long and six wide, with the bed taking up most of it. Still there was room at the end for a table with a pitcher and basin, and a chair in which one could sit and overlook the yard. George pointed at the view. “If I’d seen them I would have run out to warn you. I was dead asleep until Eileen came in and woke me by dripping on my face.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Eileen protested. “It fell on you while I was shaking you.”

“A likely story that I’m too stiff and tired to argue about,” George replied. “How were the baths, by the way?”

“Oh… fine,” Eileen turned away, a blush spreading over her face.

Thomas, remembering the feel of her skin against his, found himself smiling. He quashed it before George saw. “Fine. Just fine.” He stepped away from the door, into the dark of the hallway so George couldn’t see his face. “Which room do you want?”

“I’ll take the one in the middle,” Eileen said.

“Aye. Well, then.” He nearly leaned in to kiss Eileen again, but her brother was watching with eyebrows raised. “Good night, all.”

Thomas headed for the farthest room. He heard Eileen say good-night to her brother and follow behind him. George’s door closed. Thomas stopped at Eileen’s door and waited for her to catch up. When she did, he caught her hand up in his and kissed it again. She let him, and then leaned in close to kiss him on the lips. It was a short kiss, ending with Eileen giggling. “I thought you were going to burst when George asked about the baths.”

“Me?” Thomas shook his head. “You were going red as a beet.”

Eileen giggled some more and kissed him again. “Good night, Thomas.”

He kissed her once more, then stepped back. “Good night, Eileen.”

She waved at him and closed the door. Thomas went to his own room and was not at all surprised to find, once he had lit the lamp, that it was the same size and shape as the ones beside it. Still, the bed was made up and the room was clean and warm. He set the lamp on the table and stripped, hanging his clothes over the footboard. Relief and happiness had taken the place of the fear that had held him while the bishop was in the inn yard.

Thomas blew out the lamp and quickly put himself under the blankets. The bed was firm and comfortable and after the day’s ride and the bath and the evening’s scare, Thomas found himself actually tired. He settled himself in and let his mind drift back to Eileen and the baths.

For the first time in a fair while, he fell immediately asleep.

Chapter 28

A loud rapid knock and the words, “Get up, you slug!” nearly made Thomas fall out of his bed, convinced he was going to have to run off in the middle of the night again. Instead, the early morning sun was shining in through the window, filling the room with pleasant golden light and nearly blinding Thomas’s freshly opened eyes.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, struggling to his feet and grabbing for his breeches. “What’s the matter?”

“Matter?” said George from the other side of the door. “There’s no matter. It’s time to get up.”

Thomas squinted out the window, then back to the door. “It’s just after dawn.”

“Aye, and since I’m up, you get to be up, too.”

Thomas groaned, pulled the breeches up, and stumbled the foot and a half distance to the door. His body, though nowhere near as sore as it had been the night before, was still suffused with a dull ache. He struggled with the latch a moment, then pulled open the door, ready to berate George for waking him. One look, however, made him hold his tongue. Whatever else had happened, the time Thomas had spent immersed in hot water had certainly done some good. George was bent over, and supporting himself on the door frame. Thomas leaned himself on the other side of the frame and said, “Why are you waking me?”

“I’m going for a bath.”

“I took mine last night, thank you.”

George smiled crookedly. “I know. I wanted to see if it did you any good.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You woke me up for that?”

“Aye,” said George. “That, and you wanted to be at the bishop’s summer house today.”

“We’re half-way there.”

“And yesterday we started just after dawn.”

He was annoyingly right, Thomas realized. “I hate you.”

George snorted with laughter. “You should have seen Eileen’s face.”

“I’m sure it was hilarious. Come back when you’re done in the bath.” He closed the door unceremoniously. He contemplated crawling back into bed, but gave it up. They did have to get moving if they were going to reach the bishop’s summer house by nightfall. He stumbled to the washstand to rinse his face off. The water was cold, as morning water always was. He splashed it on his face to wake himself up, then held his head over the basin and poured some through his hair, gasping all the while. Eyes closed, he felt around for the towel, came up with it, and started briskly rubbing his head. He felt something close to human when he straightened up and opened his eyes.

Out of his window, past the inn yard, the hills were green, and beyond them, the sea was calm and clear. Both were covered with a thin, light mist that the morning sun would soon burn off. All in all, it was shaping up to be a very nice day.

Pity I’m going to have to spend it on a horse.

A knock at the door, much more tentative than the previous one, brought him out of his reverie.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” Eileen’s voice was soft and very welcome.

Thomas scrubbed at his hair some more. “It’s unlocked.”

Eileen came in quickly, smiling at the sight of him. She closed the door behind her and sat on the bed, tucking her legs under her. “Did you sleep well?”

“Aye,” Thomas put down the towel and ran his hands through his hair to get the tangles out. “For the first time in ages.”

“Good.” She looked pointedly at his bare chest. “Are you planning on putting on a shirt?”

“I was, yes.”

“Well, hurry up. I won’t be seen sitting on the bed of a half-dressed man.”

Thomas leaned over her. “How about kissing one?”

She smiled, leaned up, let her lips meet his briefly. “No more until you’re dressed.”

Thomas pulled on his shirt and settled himself down beside her on the bed. “Better?”

“Much,” said Eileen.

“Good.” Thomas leaned in. This kiss was much longer, and much more satisfying. He sat back, smiling at her. “Now all I have to do is get your brother’s approval.”

“Good luck with that.” Eileen snickered. “He’ll be harder to please than Da, and Da will have our ears.”

“That he will,” said Thomas wincing at the thought. “And no doubt George will have the rest of me.”

“Not all of you, I hope,” Eileen moved her face closer to his. “I kind of like the lips.”

“Me, too,” Thomas leaned in himself until their lips were almost touching. “Not to mention the rest of it.”

“You haven’t
seen
the rest of it,” Eileen teased.

“Not yet,” agreed Thomas. “But I have high hopes.”

Eileen pushed him away. “Oh, do you?” She pushed him again. Thomas caught her hands and pulled her in as he fell back on the bed. She yelped, falling over herself into his lap. She attempted to tickle him, succeeded, and nearly got thrown off as Thomas squirmed. She regained her balance and pounced. In moments, she had him flat on his back and was sitting astride him. “Surrender?”

“Aye, I surrender.”

“Good.” She leaned down close to him. “Kiss me.”

He did, thoroughly, and she returned it with equal attention. They broke the clinch eventually, and Eileen snuggled herself down on his chest. For a time they stayed there, watching the light play on the hills as the sun rose higher. Thomas could see the last of the mist burning off from the ground. George, he guessed, would be on his way at any time. He said as much to Eileen, who pouted and muttered something unkind about her brother. Still, she pushed herself off Thomas’s chest with a sigh and got off the bed. Thomas pulled himself to his feet and finished dressing. Hand in hand, the two went down to breakfast.

The common room was full with early rising travellers, and abuzz with the previous night’s events. There was an ugly, angry undercurrent to the discussions around the tables.

“Shouldn’t act like that,” one merchant was saying. “Not fitting…”

“And hitting Harriet like that…”

“Not right…”

“What’s the hurry anyway?”

“Probably wasn’t even the bishop,” said a fat man at a table in the corner. “No bishop should act like that.”

Thomas and Eileen said nothing as they made their way to a table. A serving girl spotted them and two mugs of hot tea arrived moments after they sat down.