He stretched, taking pleasure in the feel of joints that weren't popping, and bones that didn't creak. He was sore from the unaccustomed work, but not unbearably so.
Although -- Lady of Light, I've been working like a porter all afternoon, and not had so much as a twinge in the old bones! Now was that just because I was keyed up, or was it something else? Well, I'll know tomorrow. If I ache from head to toe, I'll know I was not privileged to be the recipient of a miracle!
And meanwhile -- the fire needs feeding.
So he watched Kethry, huddled in his own blankets while he fed the fire, and waited for the morning.
* * *
Carter's Lane in the capital city of Petras was living up to its name, even this close to the time for the evening meal. The street was wide enough for four wagons moving two abreast in each direction, and all four lanes were occupied by various vehi-cles now. The steady rumbling of wheels on cobble-stones did not drown out the equally steady hum of voices coming from all sides. Carter's Lane boasted several popular taverns and drinkshops, not the least popular of which was the Pig and Potion. This establishment not only had an excellent cook and an admirable brewmaster, but in addition offered various forms of accommodation -- ranging from single cubbyholes (with bed) that rented by the hour, to rooms and suites of rooms available by the week or month.
It was from the window of one of the latter sorts of lodging that a most attractive young wench was leaning, her generous figure frequently taking the eyes of the cart drivers from their proper work. She was, in fact, the inadvertent cause of several tangles of traffic. She paid this no heed, no more than she did the equally persistent calls of admiration or inquiries as to her price. She was evidently watching for something -- or someone.
And to the great disappointment of her admirers, she finally spotted what she watching for.
"Arton!" the brown-haired, laughing-eyed wench called from her second-floor window. "I've waited days for you, you ungrateful beast!"
"Now, Janna -- " The scar-faced fighter who emerged rrom the crowd to stand on the narrow walkway beneath her looked to be fully capable of cutting his way out of any fracas -- except, perhaps, this one.
"Don't you 'now, Janna,' me, you brute!" She vanished from the window only to emerge from a door beside it. The door let onto a balcony and the balcony gave onto a set of stairs that ran down the outside of the inn. Janna clattered down these stairs as fast as her feet could take her. "You leave me here all alone, and you never come to see me, and you never send me word, and -- "
"Enough, enough!" the Warrior begged, much to the amusement of the patrons of the inn. "Janna, I've been busy."
"Oh, busy'. Indeed, I can guess how busy'." She confronted him with her eyes narrowed angrily, standing on the last two stairs so that her eyes were level with his. Her hands were on her hips, and she thrust her chin forward stubbornly, not at all ready to make peace.
"Give 'im a rest, lass," called another fighter lounging at an outside table, one wearing the same scarlet-and-gold livery as Arton. "King's nervy; keeps 'im on 'and most of tti' time. 'E 'as been busy."
"Oh, well then," the girl said, seeming a bit more mollified. "But you could have sent word."
"I'm here now, aren't I?" he grinned, with just a touch of arrogance. "And we ought to be making up for lost time, not wrangling in the street."
"Oh-Ofe!" She squealed in surprise as he picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her up the stairs.
He pulled the door open; closed it behind him.
Silence.
One of the serving girls paused in her distribution of ale mugs, sighed, and made calf eyes at the closed door. "Such a man. Wisht I 'ad me one like him."
"Spring is aborning, and young love with it," intoned a street minstrel, hoping that the buxom server would take notice of him.
"Young lust, you mean, rhymester," laughed the second fighter. "Arton's no fool. That's a nice little piece he brought with him out of the country -- and cheap at the price of a room, a bit of feeding, and a few gewgaws. One of these days I may go see if she's got a sister who wants to leave the cowflops for the city."
"If you can get any girl to look at your ugly face," sneered a third.
The mutter of good-natured wrangling carried as far as the second-floor room, where the young fighter had collapsed into a chair, groaning. The room's furnishings were simple; a bed, a table, a wardrobe and three chairs.
And an enormous wolflike creature on the hearth.
"Warrior's Oath, Keth -- you might make yourself lighter next time!" the Warrior groaned. "My poor back!"
"If I'd known you were going to play border-bridegroom, I'd have helped you out, you idiot!" the brown-haired girl retorted, closing the shutters of the room's single window, then snatching a second chair and plopping down into it. "Tarma, where the hell have you been these past few days? A note of three words does not suffice to keep me from having nervous prostrations."
:I told you she was all right,: the kyree sniffed. :But you wouldn't believe me.:
"Warrl's right, Keth. I figured that he'd tell you if anything was wrong, so I wasn't going to jeopardize my chances by doing something marginally out of character. And I've been busy, as I said," Tarma replied, rubbing her eyes. "Damn, can't you do something about the way these spells of yours make my eyes itch?"
"Sorry; not even an Adept can manage that."
Tarma sighed. "Char has gotten the wind up about something -- maybe he's even getting some rumors about our work, who knows? Anyway, he's been keeping me with him day and night until I could find somebody he trusts as much as me to spell me out. How is the conspiracy business going?"
Kethry smiled, and ran her hands through her hair. "Better than we'd hoped, in a lot of ways. Jadrek will be giving me the signal as soon as he's done with his latest client, so why don't we save our news until we're ail together?"
"Fine by me; I don't suppose you've got anything to eat around here?"
"Why? Don't they feed you at the palace?"
"Having gotten leave to go, I wasn't about to stick around and maybe get called back just so I could feed my face," Tarma retorted.
Kethry raised one eyebrow. "Char's that nervy?"
Tarma spotted half a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese on the table behind Kethry and reached forward to seize both. "He's that nervy," she agreed, slicing bits off the cheese with her belt-knife and alternating those tidbits with hearty bites of bread. She would have said more, but a gentle tapping came from the wall. Kethry jumped up out of her chair and faced the wall, holding both palms at shoulder height and facing it. The wall itself blurred for a little, then the door that had been hidden by Kethry's illusion swam into view. Jadrek pushed it open and stepped into the room.