“That’s one disguise I haven’t seen yet,” she said with a chuckle.
“My biggest mistake was buying these clothes from a real beggar. They came complete with fleas.” He scratched his neck and with the same motion pushed his broad brimmed hat back from his face. Lank, dark hair fell forward, partially hiding a livid scar that marred the man’s nose and left cheek.
Lanther had been a handsome man once. Linsha could see the strong lines of his nose and cheekbones under the weathered and scarred skin, but years of sun and desert wind and battles fought with sword and knife had taken a hard toll on his features. His eyes were a vivid blue, a dark blue like sapphires or perhaps the color of a thunderstorm at twilight. Those eyes twinkled at Linsha as the man crossed his arms and leaned against the stable wall.
“I heard you rode a centaur into town last night. What did you do to earn that honor?”
“Well, since you are the first to ask me that question, I will tell you. He was apologizing for ripping my tunic with a crossbow bolt.”
Lanther’s eyebrows slowly rose toward his hairline. “He shot at you?”
Linsha put the brush away and picked up a hoof-pick. “Accidently.” She leaned against Sandhawk’s side and carefully picked up his front hoof. “I went out beyond the ghost city into the outer lying edges of the ruins and bumped into a patrol. Their newest member shot before he realized what he was doing.”
“You weren’t hurt?” he asked.
“Just my tunic.”
His eyes narrowed. “What were you doing out there?”
“Tracking someone,” she replied from behind her horse. “The kind of man that makes my hackles rise.”
“Did you find him?”
“Lost him at the edge when the centaurs appeared.”
Linsha moved to the horse’s back hoof and slowly picked it clean while she waited for Lanther to tell her why he had come. He was a deliberate man and a patient one, two traits that had stood him in good stead. He had told her his story once of his work in the New Swamp. How, as a Legionnaire, he helped people trying to escape from Takar in Sable’s realm, providing them with food and guiding them back to the safety of the plains. Sable’s minions trapped him one day, until he fought his way out, and badly wounded, made his way across the miles of stagnant water and foul marsh to the small tribal village of Mem-Ban on the edge of Iyesta’s domain. There he recovered with the aid of the tribesmen. Unfortunately, his leg was too crippled to return to the swamp. He was sent to the Missing City to join the cell there and to work with Iyesta’s spy network. He had been one of the first Legionnaires to approach Linsha shortly after her arrival in the city, and together they had formed a steady friendship and a workable link between the Legion and the Order.
When he did not say anything after a while, Linsha peered at him around the back of Sandhawk’s rump and saw through the hairs of the horse’s tail that Lanther was trying to scratch his shoulder blades on the boards of the stall wall. He looked so uncomfortable and ridiculous that a chuckle slid out before she could stop it.
“You laugh,” he grumbled. “Some day you’ll have to use a disguise like this and the little demons will be all over your succulent flesh.”
Linsha, who had been forced to use a disguise like that once, jerked a thumb at the horse trough visible just outside the stable door. “So take a bath. There’re horse blankets in the tack room.”
He made a disparaging noise. “No thanks. I’ll find my own bath. I came to tell you that Sir Morrec’s company has been delayed near the forest. They won’t be back until tomorrow. One of your messengers is on the way here, by the way.”
Linsha nodded, resigning herself to another day of Sir Remmik’s dictatorial attitude. She didn’t bother to be surprised that a Legionnaire was telling her of her own commander’s business. The Legion often brought her news before her own Order received it.
Lanther paused as if waiting for her full attention. “We have found information on the elder who is missing,” he said. “We received a tip last night that the man is dead. We are searching for his body.”
Linsha hissed in irritation. “That makes three missing, doesn’t it? Who is doing this? And why?”
“I wish we knew. It would be most strange if these three deaths are mere coincidences.”
The two fell quiet for a time, busy with their own thoughts while the work of the stables went on around them.
After a while Lanther stirred and set his eyes on Linsha’s bent back. “By the way—” he paused to savor the moment of delivery—”your brother was in Flotsam.”
She shot straight up, startling her horse and dropping the hoof pick. “What? When? How do you know?”
A grin spread across Lanther’s scarred face, easing the usually tense lines around his eyes and mouth. “One of our members in Flotsam sent a report to Solace and to Falaius to report the death of one of our older members. Falaius was a friend of hers.”
Falaius Taneek was a desert barbarian turned Legionnaire who commanded the Legion cell in the Missing City. A tough but fair man, he had gained Linsha’s respect quickly and opened a cordial and diplomatic liaison between the Legion and the Solamnic circle. He would have known how pleased Linsha would be to hear news of her brother.
“What was Ulin doing in Flotsam? Was my father with him?”
“There was no mention of Palin. Only Ulin and someone named Lucy Torkay.”
Linsha leaned her arms over her patient horse’s back. “Lucy? Did the report say why?”
He shook his head. “It only said they were there last spring to look for her father. Apparently, he was a local brigand who had stolen the town’s treasury. Seems your brother and this Lucy saved the town.”
An image of her tall, lanky brother filled Linsha’s mind like a warm draught of spring wine. He was her only sibling and a friend and companion of childhood. It had been too many years since she’d seen him last, and she missed him deeply. “Saved a town, did he?” she murmured, bending over to retrieve the pick. “He would.”
She said nothing more as her thoughts revolved back to her place in the Missing City. She wished Ulin was there so she could ask him about the forebodings that discomfited her mind, but he was far away, probably back in Solace by now. There was only Lanther. He had been her friend for over a year, and if anyone in this city could understand her misgivings it might be him.
Still she stayed quiet while she thought of the right words. There were many things she wanted to ask him, but she wanted to phrase them in the right words. “Lanther,” she said, “you have been in Missing City for two years. You know this city as well as a native and you know what the Legion is doing.” She paused, then went on. “Have you noticed anything different lately? Does the Legion suspect something or have any apprehensions about this city?”
If he was surprised by her questions, he did not allow it to show in his expression. “No,” he said slowly. “Why?”
“Something is bothering me. You may laugh, call it woman’s intuition, but I have survived many years on my gut instincts. I can’t put a shape to it.” She lifted her hands in a gesture of frustration. “It is like a whiff of smoke on the wind. Strangers in town who make my skin crawl. Dead or missing civilians. Militia on alert. I see no link in any of it, and yet I feel something is wrong.”
Lanther, a survivor of many undercover operations and battles in hard places, did not laugh at her admission. “I will ask around,” he said. “Discreetly.”
Linsha went back to grooming the gelding. She had to be content with that. At least Lanther did not ignore her like Sir Remmik or try to brush her off with light statements and a joke. If he said he would ask, he would do just that. Something might come of it.