“Release him?” Saorsha gasped.
Ulin put it simply. “If he stays, we can decide if his idea is valid and if he earns his reprieve. If he flees, he dies.”
The half-elf lifted his hands in a gesture of agreement. “How far can he go when the entire city is watching him?”
At a nod from the city council, the captain gestured to his men to release the prisoner. “Now, what is this idea of yours?” he asked Kethril.
“Not tonight,” Lucy said. “It’s late. Let’s get some sleep and talk about it in the morning. Meeting adjourned.” Without a glance at her father, Lucy took Ulin’s hand and led him from the room.
The others looked at one another in surprise, then in ones and twos they finished their drinks, bade farewell to Aylesworthy, and left the inn. Lysandros said something to the sirine, who giggled and took his arm. They left together. At last only Cosmo and Kethril were left with the innkeeper. Cosmo helped clean up the common room, wash the dishes, and turn out the lamps. Kethril did not move from his chair. He sat, staring into the darkest shadows until Aylesworthy cleared his throat.
“I have a room, if you want it.”
“No, just a jug of spirits.” He fumbled in his pockets until he pulled out two steel coins and flipped them on a table. “The strongest you’ve got.”
Wordlessly, the innkeeper fetched a jug and a flagon, set them on the table, and pocketed the coins. He set a lamp on the bar and left Kethril to his thoughts and his jug.
Outside the door, Ulin caught Lucy’s arm and stopped her. His golden eyes blazed with something Lucy had not seen in a long while. “You are going to stay, aren’t you?” he asked.
She tilted up her chin so she could look into those eyes. By the gods, they made her tingle all over. “Yes,” she said rather breathlessly. “I don’t know why. It’s probably suicide, but I-”
He put a finger over her lips. “That’s what I thought. Then you’d better marry me.”
She giggled softly. “I already said I would.”
“No.” He leaned close to her ear so his breath warmed her neck. “I mean tonight.”
“Tonight! That’s so soon!” A delicious heat began to spread through Lucy’s veins. Oh, praise Mishakal, it has happened, she thought. She pulled away a little and looked at him sideways. “Why tonight?”
His hands slipped around to the small of her back and pulled her close against him. “Because I want you so much it is burning me, and if we’re both going to die fighting, I want you for as long as I can.”
“We can’t get married now. It’s very late. Where would we find someone in this town to marry us? Besides, my mother and your mother would never forgive us if we married without them.”
Ulin grinned and waved at the front door. “They’d probably say it was high time.” He hugged her. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I should have asked you months ago.”
She leaned against him. “You don’t need to apologize. I understand why you waited. Besides, I am greedy. I would rather have all of your attention than share it with a ghost.”
His voice was husky in the dim light. “Well, you have it now. When I was in that cave and thought I’d never see you again … Please, marry me.”
Lucy laughed and shook her head. “Not here. I want to be married in Solace with your family and mine in attendance.”
“All right, you win.” He started to move away from her, the disappointment plain in his voice.
A giggle escaped the Sheriff of Flotsam. She pulled Ulin close again and framed his face in her hands. “We are betrothed. The wedding vows merely make the promise official.”
Ulin felt a tremble run through his body as he picked up Lucy and carried her down the hall and into his room. This was right, his body and mind had known it months ago-it had just taken his heart that long to catch up. He laid her on the bed and felt himself enveloped by the love he saw in her face. He knew from now on he would have to work very hard to make up for all the time he’d wasted.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Kethril was still sitting in the common room when Ulin and Lucy came down the next morning. He sat in his chair, his upper body sprawled over the table, his head buried in his arms.
Aylesworthy jerked a thumb in his direction. “He’s been there all night.”
Lucy laughed. She felt infused with joy from the delights of her night, and she was not going to let anything, not her father or elders or dragons, ruin her happiness. “At least he didn’t run.”
A long, low groan issued from the man at the table. “Be quiet, I beg you. Leave the mortally afflicted in peace.”
“Oh, Father, don’t exaggerate so,” Lucy said sweetly. She took a mug of cider from the innkeeper and with an evil glint in her eye, she slammed it down on the table beside Kethril’s head. “Have something to drink, Father. You don’t look well.”
He flinched, moaning in misery. “Wicked child,” he mumbled. “Go away. There’s someone trying to die here.”
“No, going away is your action of choice. I stay and finish the job. Something I learned from my mother. Innkeeper, call the elders.”
Aylesworthy lifted his chin at her request. He gestured to a serving girl he had working in the kitchen that morning. “Run and fetch Saorsha and Mayor Efrim,” he ordered quietly. As soon as she left, he set about preparing a large breakfast of turnovers, fruit, fried ham, and eggs, and for Lucy, kefre, hot and black. When he brought the tray into the common room, Lucy and Ulin were sitting at Kethril’s table grinning at each other like a pair of mischievous children. Kethril was not in sight, but the sound of someone being noisily sick by the front door explained his whereabouts.
Aylesworthy set down the tray and stood back to watch. It had been a long while since he had seen two people so totally happy and so appreciative of his food. They ate ravenously and asked for seconds. As he walked back to the kitchen, Kethril staggered back in.
Ulin studied his father-in-law then snapped his fingers. “Of course! Tika’s remedy, just the thing!” He hurried into the kitchen. Under Aylesworthy’s amused and interested observation, he mixed together his grandmother’s well-known remedy for hangovers: Warm milk to coat the stomach, feverfew for headache, anise and cinnamon for nausea, and a dose of nux vomica for whatever those didn’t relieve. He sniffed it once and grimaced. He liked the smell of anise about as much as he liked chicken and dumpling soup. Carrying it out at arm’s length, he put it down in front of Kethril. “Hold your nose and drink it down,” he ordered.
The gambler slumped in his chair and glared at the younger man through bloodshot eyes. “If you weren’t engaged to my daughter, I’d knife you where you stand.”
To their amazement tears gathered in Kethril’s eyes and slowly trickled down his stubbled cheeks. He sniffed loudly.
“He’s still drunk,” Lucy observed. The kefre pot had some black at the bottom, so she dumped the dregs into Ulin’s remedy. The results did not look or smell as bad as she thought it would. In fact, it smelled almost drinkable. She pushed the mug toward Kethril and said in a gentler voice, “Drink this, Father, it really will help.”
He ignored it. “Gods, I should never drink that blasted dwarven swill. It always make me feel maudlin.”
“You’re not maudlin, Father. You’re nauseated. You were never maudlin.”
“I know when I’m maudlin,” he stated formally. Unfortunately the effect was lost in a series of hiccups. “It’s when I think about your mother and you girls, and Mauvrin, and the sirines, and Gwendolin, and Janira with her oracle glass, and-”
“We get the point, Father,” Lucy said sharply.
“Beautiful women, all of them.” He stared off into the distance and heaved a grand sigh-whether one of contentment or regret, Lucy could not tell. “I just never could stay with one for long.” Oblivious to what he was doing, he reached for the mug and took a deep swallow of the tonic. The warm liquid slid down his throat and settled peaceably into his rebellious stomach. “Hmmm, that’s not bad,” he mumbled. “Didn’t know I liked this stuff.”