| Wessley |
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| Wessley threw the hunks of potato into the pot, then sat in the floor in front of the fire. Loriann followed him and sat nearby. "Wess, I'm glad I found you." "Though," he replied, remembering her knife between his shoulderblades, "maybe you didn't reveal yourself in the most optimal way." "Ah, a little scratch won't kill you," she pushed him playfully. "A little scratch almost did," Wessley indicated the scar that symbolized their meeting. "You know I regret it." "Yes, I know it." He stood, grabbing his drying shirt. "I need to get good rest tonight, since I must depart at first light. Thanks for everything." "Of course. Sleep well, Wess." "And you." Loriann watched him go with dark eyes, noting his many new scars. She had heard rumors of his travels in the south. He had fought many battles in the past which had proven fruitless, and would likely fight many more in the near future. All for his brother. She shook her head sadly and returned to cutting vegetables for her stew. Wessley found a tub of hot water waiting for him in his room. He pulled off the remainder of his clothing and sank into the water slowly. He cleaned the grime from his skin and hair with a bar of soap, then set to shaving his stubble. After bathing, he donned clean clothes, and, leaving his dirty ones to soak in the soapy water, he sat on the floor to hone and oil his sword. He watched thel ight of the moon and candle reflecting off the blade. Seeing it now, no man could ever imagine how slick with Southerner blood the weapon had been mere weeks ago. Sighing, Wessley hung his clean clothes to dry and climbed into bed. He lay awake a long time before falling into sleep, and even then, his dreams were troubled. I quickly covered the small mirror with a pile of dirty clothes as the Mage entered the room. "Aaryn, you were expected in the classes this morning. Your teacher reported that you were absent." "I'm sorry; I was ill." "See to it that next time you miss classes, young man, you alert someone to the reason." "Yes, sir." "I mean it, Aaryn. We must know where you are at all times," he warned as he left, closing the door behind him. "Because you're afraid of Wessley," I said, smiling slightly. I returned to the mirror to see a sleeping man with tousled blond hair. I watched over the man until morning. Wessley stumbled into the kitchen, yawning. "Wess," Loriann grinned, "whatever happened to 'departing at first light'?" Wessley shrigged, yawning again. "I slept through it." "Figures. What if you are attacked in the morning when you first awake? You'll be too sleepy to fight back." "Then I suppose I'll die. Have any tea?" "Sure." Loriann sat a hot cup at the table. "What would your brother say to that?" "'What a lazy pig Wessley is,' no doubt." She laughed, placing some eggs on the table before him. Wessley dug into the food immediately. "Wess, where are you headed today?" "I'm not entirely sure. West this time, probably," he said around a mouthful of eggs. "I hope you find something." "Me too." She placed a bag on the table. "Here's some food for the trip. Make it last, now." "Thanks, Loriann." He placed the now-empty plate and cup in the basin that served as a sink and gathered his belongings. He slung the bag of food over one shoulder, the bag of supplies on his other, cinched his weapon belt around his waist, and strapped his sword harness to his chest. "Until we meet again," he said, pulling his cloak off the peg. "Until then." They clasped wrists momentarily, then Wessley opened the door to step into the muddy street. He began walking away. "Wess!" He turned back to face her. "Be careful." He gave a small salute and disappeared into the distance. A knock sounded on the door so soon after that Loriann was sure Wessley had returned. When she opened the door, however, the man standing before her did not bear the face she had expected to see. "Hello, Boss," she said dully. The huge black-cloaked man swept past her and into the entrance hallway. He pulled back his cowl as she shut the door, revealing a long, pale face with a hooked nose and a patch over one eye. "Loriann, I have a new assignment for you," he began briskly and without preamble. "The Duke is giving us a bit of trouble. You know the location of his storehouse, correct? I need you to go there and retrieve . . . . Are you paying attention at all?" Her black eyes met his sharply. "I am unavailable for this job." His single eye narrowed. "What are you talking about, Loriann? This is only two days from now. I don't know what you have planned, but surely this will not disrupt--" "I told you, I will not accept this assignment," she cut him off. "But I need you to--" "Then find someone else." He blinked owlishly, then seemed to regain his composure. "Loriann," he said in a coaxing voice, "I realize you are a busy woman, but--" "How many times, Aien, do I have to tell you? I will not do this. Or anything else, fo that matter. Until further notice." "You're quitting?" Aien was appalled. "But you are my best source. I can always count on you to do the job well. You have never made a mistake." |
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