Rod groaned again, but Taeauna went right on.
"After his seventh naming of a new 'traitor house,' the nobles stopped heeding him and departed the court. Most of the courtiers and royal servants fled Galathgard on their heels, abandoning Devaer; the rest were devoured by all manner of monsters that started appearing in the castle thereafter."
Rod winced. "Is there anything left of Galath at all?"
"Of the countryside you remember? Much. Of the court and any true rule over the kingdom? Nothing. Several of my sisters dared to fly into the upper towers of the royal castle of Galathgard, earlier this season. They saw Devaer wandering alone there, shunned even by the prowling beasts, no doubt thanks to magic. Dark Helms and ever-more monsters are gathering there now; it's become a place no one who serves not that Doom…" Taeauna slapped the bedding in front of her, traced "Arlaghaun" on their folds, and as swiftly raked that name away "…dares go."
Feeling as angry as he could ever remember being, Rod snarled, "Except us."
And he reached out and put his arms around Taeauna.
She stiffened, and started to pull away, but he tightened his embrace, just holding her tightly in his arms, not moving his hands at all.
After a time, he started to hum, deep and low, as he remembered his father doing when comforting his mother; a gentle, endless, soothing tune, sad, slow and majestic rather than happy or bouncy.
And slowly, ever so slowly, he felt Taeauna relax against him. He dared to move one of his hands, then, lifting it-slowly-to stroke her hair, taking great care to keep away from the stumps of her severed wings. God, the muscles she had back there…
Slowly, and without a sound, she was yielding, sinking into his chest. They both reeked of sweat, they both had matted, tangled hair, and Rod was acutely aware that he was comforting a woman who was stone to his damp mud; she could literally tear him limb from limb, whenever she wanted to.
Taeauna sank her cheek into his shoulder, bending over to do so, and suddenly gave a great shudder, followed by a sigh that seemed longer than Rod could ever hold his breath, even long ago, as a strong young man, when he was training to be not a half-bad swimmer.
This time, when she pulled gently away, he let her go. She sat back, looking away from him, her eyes bright with unshed tears, only to toss her head, look directly into his eyes, and whisper, "Thank you, lord. I… thank you."
"So, Is he? Or not?"
The voice outside the window was gravel-rough-arid impatient, but the innkeeper's shrug held no trace of fear.
"I cannot tell. He is suspicious, and so you should know of him. What you do cannot be my affair."
"Urrhh." The grunt held neither agreement nor dispute. "The Vengeful shall be told."
A boot shifted on loose stones, and then the night outside the window was empty. In the pitch darkness, the innkeeper shrugged and slid the window panel closed.
Rod Everlar came awake suddenly and painfully, out of a dream that seemed to involve his blood-drenched bed at home, when a hard and heavy boot took him in the ribs.
"Rod Everlar!" Taeauna shouted. "Up, and defend yourself!"
Blinking in the darkness, Rod was dimly aware of Taeauna leaping over him to his left, so he flung himself to his right, trying to grab at the hilt of his sword as his body rolled over it.
Swords clanged together on one side of the bed as Rod fell off it on the other. Someone or something hissed like a snake, steel rang on steel again, and a horrible wet-throated squalling burst on Rod's ears out of the darkness. He fumbled for his sword and tried to get to his feet, as swords skirled musically and blades glanced off each other from where Taeauna must be fighting. The squalling died down into wet coughing near the floor, and two or three short, angry hisses sounded at once, one of them from right in front of Rod.
He stopped trying to get up, and used both hands to sweep his blade across in front of him, angled upwards, as if he were trying to bury an axe into a tree looming above him, or better yet, slice that axe right through a tree.
Halfway through its swing, Rod's blade hit something solid and meaty, jarring his hands to numbness, and… cut through, spattering him with unseen but swamp-reeking wetness and causing a bubbling-wet shrieking overhead that was startlingly loud and near.
As swords clanged again across the room, and he heard a sob that might have been Taeauna- Taeauna! — something bumped against Rod's left boot, so he rolled hastily to his right again, coming up against the wall.
"Taeauna?" he shouted desperately.
Behind him the unseen creature he'd wounded fell heavily onto the edge of the bed and thumped to the floor, its shrieks dying into squalling. Rod turned and lashed out with his sword again, hacking wildly at what must be lying beside him.
He couldn't see a thing, couldn't-
"Taeauna!"
She hadn't answered! Hadn't…
Wetness fountained audibly under the edge of his sword, and the squalling stopped, trailing away into a lowering hiss. Across the room, blades clashed again, and there was a sudden wet growl of anger. Taeauna cried out a short "huunh!" of effort, as if she'd done something strenuous that caused her pain, and then a loud hissing arose, and a body I humped rapidly backwards, off balance, and fell to the floor with a crash.
"Rod?" Taeauna panted. "Lord Rod?"
"Here," Rod replied uncertainly, raising his sword straight up. "I can't see a thing."
"Get to the window," she gasped. "Crawl across the bed."
Rod pointed his blade down to the floor and prodded gingerly ahead with it, finding feet almost immediately. He went around them and found the bed. "The laedlen?" he asked, remembering that Taeauna had tossed the inn's cushions to the floor and used their sacks as pillows.
"Bring…" Taeauna panted, "them."
She was hurt, all right.
"Tay, do you need my-"
"Not here," she snapped. "Help me… The window bar…"
Rod clambered across the bed, encountering something smooth and scaly that shouldn't have been there-it was wet and sticky, but thankfully didn't move-and found the floor on the far side.
"Tay," he muttered, to let her know it was him as he reached out. His fingers met with something solid. Leather. "Your leg?"
"My leg," she sighed, and he felt a trembling under his fingertips.
Rod rose, hastily. "I'm here."
"Hurry," she whispered. "Please."
Rod felt for the wall, found the wooden bar, and lifted it. It was heavy; the far end wavered as he wrestled with its weight.
"Just drop it," the Aumrarr murmured. "I'm clear."
Thankfully, Rod let go, remembering to jerk his own boots back just in time.
The bar landed with a crash, and bounced onto his toes anyway.
Its landing brought a few weak hisses out of the darkness behind them, but Taeauna was already pushing at the shutters. "Get the laedlen. We must leave."
"Out the window?"
"Yes, wise old man, out the window." Her snap was as half-hearted as it was quiet.
Rod thrust the window shutters open, smacking someone in the face who was standing outside in the night, who responded by swinging a sword right past Rod's nose.
Rod snatched up his own sword from where he'd left it leaned against his crotch, and thrust it out into the dark bulk. Hard.
It went into something, a little.
That brought a loud and furious hiss, and the blade swung back to clang against Taeauna's. She sobbed in pain, and Rod angrily thrust with his sword again, aiming for where the hissing was coming from.