Geza inclined his head, satisfied, and he walked with her back to the manor for breakfast.
The morning passed swiftly. Wynn helped pack the wagon, and by late afternoon they were ready to leave. Leesil was silent for the day, and it was obvious to Magiere that his delusion of the night before still plagued him. For her own part, she couldn't rid herself of seeing Leesil offering himself up to her like a sacrifice. Talking would have to wait-but talk they would, for his sake.
As they pulled the wagon around before the manor, Stefan stood in its doorway as Elena came out to see them off. If Wynn was right concerning what Vordana had done to Stefan, he would never again leave that house. Elena looked up at the dipping sun.
"You should really stay the night and set out tomorrow. You will not get far today."
Magiere glanced at Leesil sitting quietly beside her on the wagon bench. He was still lost in his thoughts.
"No, we need to move on," she answered Elena. "Geza says the roads between here and Keonsk are smooth and dry. We'll keep going into the early evening and gain some ground."
Chap nuzzled Shade once more and ran for the wagon, leaping into the back to settle beside Wynn. He laid his head in her lap.
Magiere offered polite farewells, snapped the reins, and Port and Imp pulled them down the inland road. When they reached Pudurlatsat and turned east along the main road, Magiere shifted the reins to one hand and grasped Leesil's closest hand with her other. He gripped her palm instantly.
She held on to him until dusk.
Chane awoke precisely at dusk and sat watching Welstiel slumber. He had done the same thing night after night. More recently, his companion had ceased mumbling and thrashing in his dormancy.
Welstiel had become no less an obstacle to Chane's freedom than Toret had been, expecting obedience, though he could not will it as Toret had. Chane had no money and no where else to go, until Welstiel delivered his promised payment and letters of introduction. With such, Chane could seek a new existence, perhaps journey to one of the main branches for the Guild of Sagecraft.
For all Chane's reluctance to be Welstiel's puppet, he had little choice but to obey-for now. And he became more and more curious about the artifact that Welstiel sought.
But behind all this lingered a downfallen moment in the dark smithy.
Wynn had turned him away.
Part of him was strangely full of sorrow, and he was not normally given to melancholy. Wynn followed her conscience, and her clear wish to protect him from Magiere hung constantly in Chane's thoughts. A naive notion, as he needed no protection, but still…
In that moment, the possibility of returning to Bela with Wynn had slipped out before he realized what he was saying. He should not have allowed himself such a fantasy nor pushed it upon her. She was a true intellect and understood that truths could never be forgotten-there was no way to change what was. Like trying to take back words that had already been spoken.
His father's cruelty had taught him to defend himself, to look out for himself above all others. Wynn was the only person besides his mother that he'd ever wished to protect more than himself. He'd failed his mother; he might yet save Wynn.
Welstiel stirred, and Chane cautiously tapped his shoulder. "Are you awake?"
"Yes. We should ready ourselves."
"Do you wish to pack, or are we returning here?"
"We leave directly from the manor. Pack everything."
When Welstiel began assisting with preparations, Chane was surprised. It was clear early in their acquaintance that Welstiel had been raised a noble, accustomed to having things done for him. He struck Chane as lacking in self-sufficiency; regardless of his own noble upbringing, Chane preferred to rely upon himself.
He saddled both horses and strapped the tent over the rump of his own mount. He handed Welstiel his cloak.
"You lead," he said. "I'm still uncertain why you want to question this captain."
"Information," Welstiel answered.
How enlightening, Chane thought, but kept silent on the matter. It was puzzling, too, when Welstiel led them around the town to the east end rather than inland to the manor.
"How will you find this captain?" Chane asked.
Welstiel sat watching the main road through town and occasionally the sparse forest around them. There was little activity past dusk. Then Chane heard a clattering bell off through the trees.
A skinny young boy with thick black hair and freckled skin, not quite in his teens, was herding a group of goats through. The sound came from a crude bell hanging on the collar of the one male in the herd. The boy must have taken his charges out too far, or perhaps they had wandered on their own, and he was returning late.
"Can you charm that boy into fetching his lord's captain?" Welstiel asked. "You seem to have a way with these peasants."
"I will try," Chane answered, ignoring the barb.
He didn't care for these commoners either, but Welstiel's distaste was more acute. Chane understood the crude minds of peasants and how to use them when necessary.
The boy swung a switch to drive his small herd on to the main road, and Chane urged his horse forward through the trees. He kept his distance so as not to startle his would-be messenger.
"Ho there," he called.
The boy stopped to look him over before answering. "Who are you?"
"Friends of the dhampir," Chane said, gesturing to Welstiel back in the trees. He spoke Droevinkan fairly well but with an accent. "Did you meet her?"
The boy shook his head but his face lit up.
"She's the one who saved us! They say she's white as ghost and can pull down a horse with her bare hands. You know her?"
Chane's eyebrows rose. How quickly truth became legend-and sometimes myth-among the masses. If only they knew who had truly "saved" them.
"Yes, and she sent us with an urgent message. It is of great importance but must be handled quietly, only given to your lord's captain."
"Captain Geza?" The boy nodded. "His Elena handles things at the common house for us."
"Can you fetch the captain but not let anyone else hear you? Tell him the dhampir sent us with urgent news, and he should meet us here, away from any ears. Can you do that?"
The boy looked at his flock.
"We'll keep an eye on your herd," Chane said with a compassionate smile. "This is important, my boy."
The boy straightened himself as though a great duty had been placed upon him in service to this legendary dhampir. He nodded once and was off.
Welstiel urged his horse forward beside Chane's. "At times, you astonish me."
Chane shrugged. "You handled the innkeeper in Bela well enough."
"Greed and ignorance require little more than a flash of coin. This is going to be a more… open interrogation. There can be no witnesses, you understand?"
Chane suppressed an indignant retort. "Of course."
They dismounted, leading the horses into the trees but remaining in sight of the main road. The goats wandered by the roadside, and evening rapidly turned to night as the world grew darker.
Chane wondered how this Geza would react to a boy's tale of strange men with a secret message from the dhampir. Had this happened in Chane's mortal life, he would have gathered a retinue of guards before setting foot outside. But Magiere appeared to inspire confidence, and he believed the captain would come alone. Soon a short man in a leather hauberk and gray-blue cape followed the boy up the road out of the town. Chane stepped out, raising a hand to hail them, with Welstiel close behind.
The captain's expression was apprehensive, but he approached with little hesitation and spoke in a lowered voice.