Chapter 7: First Night

Leofric's men did not wait to see what else I could do.

They ran for their horses, and Leofric ran with them, shouting about his father.

By the time the light faded from my hands, the square was empty.

Only broken stalls were left, and one very old woman with a basket of onions.

She looked at me for a long moment.

"Bless you, lad," she said, and walked away.

I scooped Ilsabet off the cobbles.

She weighed almost nothing.

Her eyes were half shut, and her scar had stopped bleeding but the skin around it looked grey.

"Put me down," she said faintly.

"No."

"The Duke's men will be back by dark."

"Then I'll carry you farther."

I found an inn at the far end of the lane with a faded sign of a goose.

The landlord took one look at the gold still sparking on my sleeves.

He gave me the room at the top of the stairs for free.

He did not ask my name.

I put Ilsabet on the narrow bed and sat beside her.

She turned her face toward me.

Her braid had come loose, and the black hair lay across the pillow.

"You idiot," she said. "You could have run."

"You could have let them kill me and kept the stone."

"I didn't want the stone to be that heavy."

She almost laughed, and winced.

I put my hand on her forearm over the scar.

It was cold.

I held it, and a faint gold glow came up between my fingers and sank into her skin.

Her breath hitched, and then it evened out.

"Don't," she said. "It costs you."

"It doesn't feel like it costs anything."

"It will."

"Then I'll pay it."

She meant to answer me, and she fell asleep instead, between one word and the next.

I did not move from the bed.

I watched her chest rise and fall while the light left the window.

The landlord brought a tray of bread and stew, set it by the door without a word, and went away.

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