The woodsman watched them with open interest. Thealos felt the man’s eyes probing their table. The Warder Shae sat like a recluse, withdrawn into silence because no one but Thealos knew Silvan. He merely asked for a cup of hot water and proceeded to make an herbal tea. Flent bit into the greasy pork platter and trencher bread and washed both down with a huge mug of Spider Ale. Sturnin chewed at his meal, his eyes straying more than once to the woodsman so intent on them.
The woodsman’s hair and beard were pale brown with a few grizzled edges. What surprised Thealos was the man’s clothes and weapons. He was clearly an Inlander, like Sturnin, with long hair and sunburnt face and hands. But his long bow was distinctively Silvan, a strong yew bow. A sheaf of steel-tipped arrows hung from a quiver at his waist with the styled markings of Silvan fletchers. He also carried a tapered long sword with fine hilt work, possibly made by the Shae as well. His cloak was a mottled color of greens and browns. When he caught Thealos staring again, he nodded respectfully.
“Do you know who that is?” Sturnin Goff whispered to Thealos between bites.
“No,” Thealos answered. “Do you?”
The knight nodded and dabbed his bread in the thick gravy. “I’d bet a month’s pay he’s Allavin Devers, probably the best scout in the realm.” Sturnin nodded with confidence. “He’s loyal to the Duke of Owen Draw, but he lives with your people. Or so I’ve heard. Do you know the name?”
“No,” Thealos replied, risking another look. “He lives with the Shae? Where?”
“The Riven Wood,” the knight answered. “A small community. But he wanders up and down the Kingshadow, tracking the Bandits for us. I’m going to go have a talk with him.”
“Finish your dinner first,” Thealos said, stalling him. “He doesn’t look like he’s in much of a hurry to go.”
The knight’s eyes glinted with anger. “You’re a pushy lad, aren’t you? I’m not here at your command.”
“Or my invitation,” Thealos countered. His anger had flared too quickly, and he struggled to wrestle it back down. “I don’t seek a quarrel with you, Sturnin,” he said. “We came here for a reason. When Jaerod arrives, you’ll get to ask your questions. Now be patient with me a while longer.”
Over Flent’s shoulder, Thealos spied Ticastasy emerge from one of the rooms at the top of the stairs. She looked straight down the hall at them and smiled. She was wearing the gown he had given her. It fit her well, its violet trim matching the ribbon that held her hair back. The hem was long, covering the tops of her soft leather boots. Descending the stairs in a rush, she came up behind Flent and gave him a hug.
“Flent, you smell like a gutter!” she complained, wrinkling her nose and giving him a hard hug. “It’s good to see you.” She gave Flent a little shove, but aimed her smile at Thealos. “Thank you for the gown, my lord. It fits better than I hoped.”
Sturnin raised his eyebrows in between bites of food. Thealos hooked the chair leg next to him and pulled it out, offering her a place to sit. She slipped in it, planting her elbows on the table. Her hair was freshly washed and clean and her skin smelled of scented soap. She wore the tinkling jewelry she had in Sol, except this gown made her look even better.
“It actually fits a little snug, Quickfellow,” she said in low voice. “Are you sure you didn’t mean it for the Silverborne princess?”
Thealos chuckled at her banter. “I told you, it wouldn’t match Laisha’s coloring.” At the mention of her name, Thealos caught Justin’s surreptitious glance. “She wears green damask or blue silk and sapphires. It looks well on you, Stasy.”
“Thank you,” she replied, blushing. “Are you serious about her gowns? I’ve heard she has a hundred made each year.”
Thealos smiled and leaned back, folding his arms. “An exaggeration to be sure.”
“Really? Then is she as beautiful as they say?”
“Well… what do they say?” He couldn’t help feeling a little guilty talking to her so freely. He did know Laisha Silverborne and her taste for fine cloth – which was served by the Quickfellow family among others, of course – but suggesting a degree of intimacy was more than a little misleading.
“They say,” she replied with a saucy air, “that a man who catches sight of her will fall all sick in love and act like a fool until she’s gone.” She looked at him pointedly. “Did that happen to you?”
Thealos smiled. “If I remember right, she did make me forget my name. I was younger then, but does that count?”
“Now you’re boasting.”
He shook his head. “Boasting is clearly against the Rules of Forbiddance,” he replied. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, though. She likes her gowns well enough, but I wouldn’t say I’m an insider as to the variety of her apparel. In Avisahn every year there is a grand ball at the palace. I’ve danced with her and exchanged pleasantries…”
“You and how many others?”
He grinned. “Two hundred, I think. She’s a good dancer.”