Assassin's Quest

He had taken a blow to the head, and it had dazed him for a moment, but not knocked him out. There was swelling, and he winced at my touch, but the flesh had not split. I washed it with cool water, and told him the tea might ease him as well. He thanked me, and somehow I felt shamed by it. Then I looked up to where Honey watched me with cat's eyes across the small fire.

"Were you hurt?" I asked her quietly.

"There's a knot on my shin the size of a plum where he hit me. And he left claw marks down my neck and breasts trying to get at me. But I can care for my hurts myself, thank you all the same … Cob. Small thanks to you I am alive at all."

"Honey." Josh spoke in a dangerously low voice. There was as much weariness in it as anger.

"He ran away, Father. He felled his man and then he turned and ran. If he had helped us then, none of this would have happened. Not Piper's broken arm, nor your smashed harp. He ran away."

"But he came back. Let us not imagine what would have happened if he had not. Perhaps we took some injuries, but you can still thank him that you are alive."

"I thank him for nothing," she said bitterly. "One moment of courage, and he could have saved our livelihood. What have we now? A harper with no harp, and a piper who cannot lift her arm to hold her instrument."

I rose and walked away from them. I was suddenly too weary to hear her out, and much too discouraged to explain myself at all. Instead I dragged the two bodies from the road, and pulled them onto the sward on the riverside. In the failing light, I reentered the woods, and sought out Nighteyes. He had already cared for his own injuries better than I could. I dragged my fingers through his coat, dusting thorns and bits of blackberry tangle from it. For a short time I sat next to him. He lay down and put his head on my knee and I scratched his ears. It was all the communication we needed. Then I got up, found the third body, gripped it by the shoulders, and dragged it down out of the woods to join the other two. Without compunction, I went through their pockets and pouches. Two of them yielded but a handful of small coins, but the one with the sword had had twelve silver bits in his pouch. I took his pouch and added the other coins to it. I also took his battered sword belt and sheath, and picked up the sword from the road. Then I busied myself until the darkness was complete in picking up river stones and piling them around and finally on top of the bodies. When I had finished, I went down to the river's edge and laved my hands and arms and splashed water up onto my face. I took off my shirt and rinsed the blood from it, then put it back on cold and wet. For a moment it felt good on my bruises; then my muscles began to stiffen with the chill of it.

I went back to the small fire that now lit the faces of the folk around it. When I got there, I reached for Josh's hand, and then set the pouch into it. "Perhaps it will be enough to help you along until you can replace your harp," I told him.

"Dead men's money to ease your conscience?" Honey sneered.

The frayed ends of my temper parted. "Pretend they survived, for by Buck law they would have had to pay you restitution at least," I suggested. "And if that still does not please you, throw the coins in the river for all I care." I ignored her much more thoroughly than she had me. Despite my aches and twinges, I unbundled the sword belt. Nighteyes had been right; the swordsman had been a lot bigger than me. I set the leather against a piece of wood and bored a new hole into the strap with my knife. That done, I stood, and fastened it about me. There was comfort in the weight of a sword at my side again. I drew the blade and examined it by the firelight. It was not exceptional, but it was functional and sturdy.

"Where did you get that?" Piper asked. Her voice was a bit wavery.

"Took it off the third man, up in the woods," I said shortly. I resheathed it.

"What is it?" Harper Josh asked.

"A sword," Piper said.

Josh turned his hazy eyes to me. "There was a third man up in the woods with a sword?"

"Yes."

"And you took it away from him and killed him?"

"Yes."

He snorted softly and shook his head at himself. "When we shook hands, I knew well it was no scriber's hand I gripped. A pen does not leave calluses such as you bear, nor does it muscle a forearm that way. You see, Honey, he did not run away. He but went to …"

"If he had killed the man attacking us first, it would have been wiser," she insisted stubbornly.

I undid my bundle and shook out my blanket. I lay down on it. I was hungry, but there was nothing to be done about that. I could do something about how tired I was.

"Are you going to sleep?" Piper asked. Her face reflected as much alarm as she could muster in her drugged state.

"Yes.

"What if more Forged ones come?" she demanded.