Assassin's Quest

I had played a dozen scenes in my head. That I might die before I returned home, or that when I returned, Molly would see me as a liar and a Witted one, that she would be repelled by my scars. I fully expected her to be angry at me for not letting her know I was alive. But I would explain that I had believed she had found another man and was happy with him. And then she'd understand and forgive me. After all, she was the one who had left me. Somehow I had never imagined returning home to find she had replaced me with someone else. Stupid. How could I not have foreseen that might happen, simply because it was the worst possible thing I could imagine? I spoke more to myself than Starling. "I suppose I'd better get word to her. Send her a message, somehow. But I don't know exactly where she is. Nor who I'd entrust with such a message."

"How long have you been gone?" she demanded to know.

"From Molly? Almost a year."

"A year! Men," Starling muttered softly to herself. "They go off to fight or to travel and they expect their lives to be waiting for them when they get back. You expect the women who stay behind to keep the fields and raise the children and patch the roof and mind the cow, so that when you walk back in the door, you can find your chair still by the fire and hot bread on the table. Yes, and a warm, willing body in your bed, still waiting for you." She was beginning to sound angry. "How many days have you been gone from her? Well, that's how many days she has had to cope without you. Time doesn't stop for her just because you're gone. How do you think of her? Rocking your baby beside a warm hearth? How about this? The baby is inside, crying and untended on the bed, while she's out in the rain and wind trying to split wood for kindling because the fire went out while she was walking to and from the mill to get a bit of meal ground."

I pushed the image away. No. Burrich wouldn't let that happen. "In my mind, I see her in many ways. Not just in good times," I defended myself. "And she isn't completely alone. A friend of mine is looking after her."

"Ah, a friend," Starling agreed smoothly. "And is he handsome, spirited, and bold enough to steal any woman's heart?"

I snorted. "No. He's older. He's stubborn, and cranky. But he's also steady and reliable and thoughtful. He always treats women well. Politely and kindly. He'll take good care of both her and the child." I smiled to myself, and knew the truth of it as I added, "He'll kill any man that even looks a threat at them."

"Steady, kind, and thoughtful? Treats women well?" Starling's voice rose with feigned interest. "Do you know how rare a man like that is? Tell me who he is, I want him for myself. If your Molly will let him go."

I confess I knew a moment's unease. I remembered a day when Molly had teased me, saying I was the best thing to come out of the stables since Burrich. When I had been skeptical as to whether that was a compliment, she had told me he was well regarded among the ladies, for all his silences and aloof ways. Had she ever looked at Burrich and considered him? No. It was I she had made love with that day, clinging to me although we could not be wed. "No. She loves me. Only me."

I had not intended to say the words aloud. Some note in my voice must have touched a kinder place in Starling's nature. She gave over tormenting me. "Oh. Well, then. I still think you should send her word. So she has hope to keep her strong."

"I will," I promised myself. As soon as I reached Jhaampe. Kettricken would know some way by which I could get word back to Burrich. I could send back just a brief written message, not too plainly worded in case it was intercepted. I could ask him to tell her I was alive and I would return to her. But how would I get the message to him?

I lay silently musing in the dark. I did not know where Molly was living. Lacey would possibly know. But I could not send word via Lacey without Patience finding out. No. Neither of them must know. There had to be someone we both knew, someone I could trust. Not Chade. I could trust him, but no one would know how to find Chade, even if they knew him by that name.

Somewhere in the barn, a horse thudded a hoof against a stall wall. "You're very quiet," Starling whispered.

"I'm thinking."

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't. You just made me think."

"Oh." A pause. "I am so cold."

"Me, too. But it's colder outside."

"That doesn't make me the least bit warmer. Hold me."

It was not a request. She burrowed into my chest, tucking her head under my chin. She smelled nice. How did women always manage to smell nice? Awkwardly I put my arms around her, grateful for the added warmth but uneasy at the closeness. "That's better," she sighed. I felt her body relax against mine. She added, "I hope we get a chance to bathe soon."

"Me, too."

"Not that you smell that bad."

"Thank you," I said a bit sourly. "Mind if I go back to sleep now?"