The air was chill and damp as I rode over the Bridge toward the City Gate. I pulled my grey cloak tighter about my shoulders. My companion was also hooded and cloaked, although I doubted she was bothered by the weather. Siobhan had lived in Athkatla for a long time; long enough to know that Drow, even half-drow mages such as herself, were better off not being seen in broad daylight. The dark elf foolish enough to be caught out would soon find herself tied to a burning stake. I knew her to be a skilled spellcaster and loyal friend, but most others in the City would not be so broadminded.
Four men waited just inside the Gate. Ruarc was visible among them. Siobhan turned to me and lifted an eyebrow. "He's very pretty, Corinne. Is gold the only reason you accepted this quest?"
"Shut up," I growled, and tried to ignore the blush that stole unbidden over my cheeks. Handsome men are easy to come by in Athkatla; there was no reason this one should spark my fancy.
We reached the group and Ruarc gestured to the older man beside him. "My father, Sir Hugh Lochlan. Father, this is Corinne Morrow."
If Sir Hugh was taken aback by my obvious femaleness, he didn't show it. "Greetings. I thank you for agreeing to this search," he said hoarsely. "I will be unable to accompany you; my ill health forbids it. I place my trust in you to return my daughter safely to us."
I privately thought that to be unlikely, but merely nodded. I turned to the other two men. "These will go with us?"
Ruarc nodded. "This is Baret, captain of my father's household guard" --he motioned to a middle-aged man with a scarred, bald head— "and this is Douglass, Moira's betrothed." The younger of the two men was blond haired and square jawed. He didn't meet my gaze, and I guessed that he was none too happy to be traveling with a woman.
"This is my companion, Siobhan," I replied. "She will be traveling with us."
Siobhan lifted her head and looked straight at the men, exposing her blue skin and pale hair. I sighed as they recoiled; sometimes my friend's sense of the dramatic could be a real annoyance.
"Drow!" Douglass hissed. "This is an outrage! I will not travel with such as this!"
"Half-Drow, little one," she shot back. "And you're welcome to stay behind."
"Enough!" Sir Hugh's voice cut through the air like a whip. "If she may help find my daughter, then she is welcome." His uncomfortable expression belied his bold words; this man must be desperate, I thought, to even consider allowing Siobhan's presence to go unchallenged. Still, I was grateful. Douglass glared but said nothing, and both Ruarc and Baret seemed to accept the old man's word as law.
I shook my head; this journey was not starting out well. Siobhan could be mightily touchy about her race, and already I could see trouble brewing between her and the blond haired young man. In any case, we were wasting time. "Let's go," I said.
Ruarc faced his father. "I will bring her back. I swear it." The two men clasped forearms.
"Be careful, my son."
We rode out of the gate into the pale morning.
* * * * *
We set a quick pace, fueled by the knowledge that we were a week behind our quarry. Ruarc rode at the head of the column, Douglass at his side. There was little talk, and only one brief stop during the long day. Our camp, when we made it, was tense and quiet. We built a small, smokeless fire and ate dried meat and hard bread. Ruarc and Baret sat together on one side of the campfire, talking quietly and poring over a map scratched in the dirt. Siobhan and I leaned against a tree opposite them. Douglass sat alone and spoke to no one.
Finally I leaned forward. "Do you have any idea who took your sister? Did this soldier who returned give any clues?"
Ruarc shook his head. "My father has few enemies; Moira herself has none."
"And you, Douglass?" I asked. "Would someone hurt Moira to hurt you?"
He fixed me with a steely gaze. "No."
I broke a twig and tossed it into the fire. "Bandits, then. Lying in wait to rob and kill unsuspecting travelers."
"Padreig said they killed the others and took Moira alive." Ruarc frowned as he watched sparks float up from the small blaze. "Why would they take only her?"
"Sport," Siobhan replied curtly. I felt a stab of pity at the horrified expression on Ruarc's face.
"Shut your filthy mouth!" Douglass was on his feet and standing over us almost before my friend and I had a chance to react. His fists were clenched and I tensed for a fight. "Do not speak of her that way!"
Siobhan glared at him with ill-disguised loathing. "I speak the truth, nobleman. If your woman is alive, she will be . . . damaged."
Baret rose and laid a hand on Douglass's arm. "Peace, lad. She may be right. You have to be prepared for that. Even if she still lives, Moira may have come to harm."
"Lies!" Douglass hissed, but returned to his seat. I relaxed and tucked my dagger back into my belt. I hadn't even realized I'd drawn it.
Baret stared hard at Siobhan for a moment. "You don't have to go rubbing his face in it. He's worried enow'. We all are." He returned to his map-gazing, but the mood in camp was even more uncertain than ever.
Siobhan lowered her voice and nodded in Douglass's direction. "He's angry, that one. Angry and frightened."
"You aren't helping matters," I pointed out. "Stop antagonizing him." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "You know as well as I do that she's probably dead. They'll all find that out soon enough. No need to poke them with the other possibilities as well."
"Feeling sorry for the dark one, are you?" She smiled knowingly. "He is very pretty."
"Don't be silly."
"I'm a Drow. Drow are never silly."
"Half-Drow, and you can be a real bitch sometimes."
"Drow are always bitchy."
"Go to sleep."