The Garnet Dagger (8 page)

The innkeeper let out a gasp.

“No worries, my servant will bring the plates down when we are done.” She leaned forward. “My trunks of clothing arrive on the carriage tomorrow.”

Dipped his hat to her and then she sauntered down the hallway.

Open mouthed, I snatched up my pack and careened through the crowd after her. Lies she spoke. I worried she wanted us killed.

Apparently she thought I might lose my way, for after I dashed up stairs and turned the corner, our door stood open.

Marching inside, I kicked the door behind me. “What was that about?”

“Make no mistake. We’ll be followed. Morgan is more resourceful than you know.” She rose up to her full height glaring up at me. Even though she reached to the bottom of my chin while standing on her toes, she made me feel like a dwarf. “He’ll not die from his injury. But his wounded pride will make him chase us down, even down the devil’s throat.”

“But I don’t see how — ”

“Men will come looking. Only they look for a peasant girl with short blond hair and a stranger. Everyone’s convinced who heard us that I’m wealthy.” She tossed back a lock of my black hair that hung against her neck. “And this helps too.”

Rather than argue with her, I stalked to the bed. Set down my pack, and tossed my sword, bows, and quiver beside it on the floor. Moving aside my cloak she had discarded, I flopped onto the bed.

Mistake, images of her on the bed with me sprang into my mind. Kisses by candlelight. Felt my heart flip inside my chest in applause to my thoughts.

Damn my curse. I had enough to worry about, besides her bringing dogs snapping at my heels and crazed monks. Perhaps if I left her tomorrow as planned, she could evade them. Throw them off my trail so I could find the witch.

The dagger. Sitting up, I wrenched off my boots. Just the coin pouch fell onto the mattress. Snatching up the pack, I rummaged through the items. Her brown robe and another tunic of mine splayed out before me.

Where had she hidden the blade?

Her head cocked to the side caught my attention.

“Give me the dagger.”

“Told you. You gave it to me of your own free will. It’s mine now.”

“I must have it, return the dagger at once.” I’d never be able to leave unless I had the dagger.

Yet, given her circumstances, I could scarcely explain why. Didn’t doubt she’d gut me if I told her I needed the dagger to find a witch. A witch I would kill.

“Why?”

I struggled not to cringe at her question. “Because it belongs to me. I only allowed you to borrow it.”

“Well, I’m not done borrowing it yet.” She tilted her head nonchalantly as though I asked her for a cup of tea.

Clenched my hands instead of using them to hold her up off the floor by her neck.

A rap sounded and Celeste rushed forward to open the door.

Two maids waited, each holding a plate filled with a slice of ham, two pieces of bread, and a lumpy white heap.

Before I could say I wasn’t hungry and to take one of the plates back, Celeste accepted both.

One stoked the fire and it popped and hissed in response.

“Bring up a bath for me within the hour.”

In response, they dipped into curtseys and left.

After I closed the door, I leaned against the frame watching her. Balancing a plate in each hand, she sat down upon the floor. Then she set one plate down on the stone floor. Crossed her legs and placed the other plate on her lap. Stuffed a piece of ham into her mouth.

“You’re going to eat both plates?” I knew her captors didn’t feed her well from the frailty of her appearance.

Between bites she nodded, “Come morning, I’ll have another two meals.”

“But eating too much too soon will make you ill,” I said as I sunk to the floor.

She tore a piece of bread. “I know.” Used the bread to scoop up a glob of the white substance. “Often Morgan starved me for days.” Popped the soggy bread into her mouth and talked between chews. “Then bring me a tray overflowing with food. At first, I ate till my stomach hurt. During the night, I’d retch till blood came up.”

How could mankind be so cruel? Bitterness I didn’t know was there crept into my throat.

“After the second time, I hid what I could among the straw.” The first plate empty, she traded it for the full one on the floor and took a bite out of the slice of bread. “But then the rats found my stash. Had to beat them away with my chain and throw their limp bodies from the window so Morgan would not know what I’d done. The monks who found the dead rats claimed their god protected them and killed the rats.”

Finishing her plate, she stacked both beside her.

All I had to do was wait until she went to sleep. Then search the room for the dagger. Once I recovered the dagger, I’d leave her to fate. Despite her imprisonment, she took care of herself the best she could. Now with her freedom, she would fair even better.

Better we split up now, before she became too dependent on me. Or I became too entangled in her. Besides, they looked for two, not one, I reasoned with myself.

A knock sounded on the door. I, being closer this time, rose and swung the door open. The innkeeper grunted, his arms holding a metal tub. Five women waited behind him with buckets of steaming water.

“Make way,” he said as he pushed passed me and bowed his head to Celeste.

Set the tub before her. Then he reached into the tub and drew out four folded cloths, two smaller ones for cleaning, and the other two for drying. Another dip and he brought out a large piece of lye soap.

The women rushed forward sloshing water in their wake. After the buckets were emptied, and the tub full, the innkeeper ordered a servant to pick up the empty plates.

With a flourish, he bowed out of the room. The door clicked closed.

“They believe your story,” I said staring at the door with my back to her. “Think you maybe the queen’s lady in waiting or someth — ” My words stuck in my throat as I turned back to her.

Naked, she stood before me. My eyes roved over her form. Breasts were smaller than my hand. The slight curve of her hipbone cradled her flat stomach.

As though unconcerned from my leering, she climbed into the tub and sank down. Her knees jutted out from the water. Mesmerized, I watched as she reached for the cloth and soap just outside of the tub.

She scrubbed the soap across the rag, bringing the aroma of wood ash and lye. After she washed her legs, arms and body, she turned to me with a smile that nearly brought my legs out from under me.

“Do you mind?” she asked and held out the soapy rag. “I can’t reach my back. If you hurry, the water will still be warm for your bath.”

Bath? Certainly she did not expect me to bathe in used water, and in front of her, no less. I took the rag from her outstretched hand.

She leaned forward and scooped my hair from her back and held it in one hand. Her golden hair winked at me from underneath her makeshift wig. Saw the curve of her back until the end of her form disappeared into the water.

And I swallowed.

“Might as well save the disguise for now.”

I noticed how her ribs poked out along her skin. Welts healed and crossed in scars over scars. I ran the rag in swirls on her back.

“Am I hurting you?” My mouth went dry.

“Nay.” She settled forward, leaning her arm on the rim of the metal tub.

Fearing she sensed me ogling her, I dropped the rag into the water. “Done.”

With a sigh she leaned back. Water lapped underneath her breasts. My hair from her wig hung over the side of the tub.

Forcing my legs to move, I stalked away and began searching her discarded clothing for the dagger.

Reaching outside the tub, she snatched up one of the cloths and dried her face.

She stepped out of the bath, water dripping from her nakedness and splashed onto stone floor. The cloth draped over her, clinging to her form. “Your turn.”

Her smile and words brought me forward on wobbly legs. Felt as though my muscles churned into liquid and my bones turned to brittle sticks.

At the tub, I stared down into the water. This same water had caressed her.

“Hurry, now, before the water cools.” She added another log to the fire.

With a nod, I pulled my tunic over my head. Not looking at her, I removed my stockings. Slipped my trousers off and leapt into the tub. Water sloshed over the sides.

Grabbing the rag and soap, I refused to think about anything but bathing. The water chilled my skin, but I didn’t complain. Scrubbed my body, and ignored the ripples of water lapping at my stomach. Doused my hair and scrubbed the soap into my shorn locks.

When I reached to soap my back, her fingers brushed mine.

“Let me.”

My hands gripped the sides of the tub.

Her strokes across my back made me hold back a groan. Teasing, every so often her fingers brushed my back along the edges of the rag. Lightning coursed through me. I worried my power would take her, but this was different. Tingles spread over me. Wanting, anticipating her next touch.

The rag splashed behind me.

“All done.” Her feet slapped against the floor as she walked away.

I flung my head back to rinse. The metal resonated when my head struck the edge.

I heard a stifled giggle, but slid down deeper and under the water. I rose and felt her stare.

Grabbing a cloth, I flung it over my body and turned away from her. Patted down the material to dry off.

Still dripping, I made a knot with the edges of the cloth to cover me. But the material merely reached from below my navel to mid-thigh.

A knock made my head whip around to the door. Holding my cover in one hand, I flung open the door with the other.

On the other side of the door, a boy stared at me. “Here to take your clothes.”

“Make certain they are cleaned first, before anyone else’s.” Celeste moved passed me with my trousers and tunics in her hands. “Don’t dally like my servant here,” her lips curled in smile. “Have my trunks arrived?”

“Nay, milady.” Red circled on the boy’s cheeks. “Soon as they arrive I’ll fetch ‘em.”

With a nod, she spun away. Almost like a lady, even though draped in a damp towel.

The boy scampered down the hall with our clothes in his arms. I shut the door, sliding the bolt.

Heard the hiss of the candles as she blew them out. My mind jealous of the flames. To find her way in the darkness, she left one candle burning. The flame cast dancing shadows through the room.

Her feet leapt onto the straw mattress. Curling under blankets, she tossed her damp towel at my feet. “Thank the innkeeper when he comes, and let them take back the washtub.”

I nearly bowed at her words, but stopped and snatched up the towel. Another knock on the door almost made me lose my own towel girded around my waist. At my fumbling to right the blasted garment, I heard her giggle.

Grumbling, I marched to the door. After wrestling with the handle, I unlocked the bolt and threw open the door.

The innkeeper and two servants started as the door slammed against the wall in my haste. With a mumbled apology, I stepped aside.

With a bow, the two servants rushed forward and picked up the wash barrel full of water. Careful steps did not spill a drop of water in our room. I watched them round the corner in the hallway sloshing water against the stone floor and walls as they left.

I thrust Celeste’s discarded towel toward the innkeeper. “Sh — my lady thanks you.”

His smile split open and revealed green stained teeth. Refusing to allow any questions, I bid him goodnight and shut the door.

Once again, I slid the bolt into place.

Celeste had my coin pouch opened and was counting out the coins. The blanket tucked over her chest.

“Most never see this much, even after a month of toiling.” She fingered the coins. “What’s this one? Is this from your land?”

I peered at the one in her hand. It was the engraved metal of the woman with a fishtail.

“It’s a medallion. One of the villagers on my travels gave me it to me in order to find his son. You haven’t seen one like it, have you?”

“No.”

“His son has one identical.” I ran one hand through my damp hair, and reached back to my covering, which had slipped. None of the people I spoke with in the villages had seen a medallion like that one. Although in three villages, I was ambushed by robbers after showing people the medallion. They ran away empty-handed after I and my sword finished with them. It was too dangerous to use hand fighting for my curse could kill them, where my sword would not unless I willed it.

“And his son is where?”

“Don’t know. He went off on a quest to slay a dragon that killed his mother and most of their village.”

“Dragons?” she cocked her eyebrow.

“Don’t believe it myself. But I saw the damage from the fire.”

“You don’t think they exist?”

“Nay. Even among my kind they are considered imaginary.” I watched her as she placed the coins and the medallion back in my coin pouch with her good hand.

Her other hand still bandaged in the splint I made for her. By her reaction, I guess she had not seen the medallion before.

“Well.” She placed the pouch beside my boots.

And I nearly saw her breast again. Then she tucked the blanket up higher. The coins rattled when they hit the floor.

“Seems as if many don’t believe in Elves either.”

I smiled at her jest, despite my resolve against her.

After straightening the blanket more, she snuggled down into the straw mattress. Her hair’s golden spikes pressed into the pillow. The wig of my hair laid over the edge of the bedpost. “It’s too warm in here, let the fire die down on its own.”

The fire was already glowing ashes. Crossing the room, I watched the candle wax melt a path down the iron holder. Was like waiting for life to start again. Here, I’d wait until morning woke her.

Perhaps after she fell asleep, I’d search the room again for the dagger. Leave before first light.

“Even if you don’t need sleep, I do,” she said and her eyes slanted at the edges like a sleeping cat. “Can’t sleep with you standing there like that.”