Jaxon studied the old Warden as she reclined in the litter. She seemed to take in every detail of the lands that they passed. Time and time again, he would see a flash of recognition and then, again, he would see that tell-tale paling of her cheeks. There was something up with the cagey old woman and he could not leave a good mystery alone.
"I trust you're comfortable, Warden," he asked as he moved his horse to ride beside Maly.
"Yes, thank you," she said, offering what appeared to be the first genuine smile he had seen. He could see past the years to the beauty she once had. The tales had not done her justice, but then, they had not focused on her looks, only her deeds.
"We will be stopping soon for the evening. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
Maly found herself surprised into a laugh. She was starting to like this Jaxon and it worried her. She would have to be extra careful.
The young warden stayed close to her as the group made camp. He made certain that her every want and need were attended to. He spoke to her with a mix of flirtatious charm and easy respect. He thought it might be a balm to the fact that all of the others barely spoke to her, only whispering behind her back.
His mission could not fail. The Commander had entrusted him to bring Warden Malaya back so she could be questioned about her longevity. The very fact that she had survived so long was beyond belief. The Orlesians put it down to her having been on the tower when the Archdemon had been killed by Prince Alistair. Perhaps it could have been so. Jaxon teased a piece of bark from the log he used as a seat.
He had been the one to find the papers in Avernus' tower. They spoke of experiments most unsavory and of the summoning of demons. Towards the back of the well-worn journal had been notations about his discussions with the then Warden Commander. Apparently, the two had spent much time together, mage to mage. Had she learned Avernus' form of blood magic? He could not believe that. She seemed so normal, if a bit reserved and cool. But, what if the tales of Avernus were true? What if the reason that Malaya had lived as long as she did had nothing to do with the Archdemon and everything to do with Blood Magic?
"Jaxon." The fact that she used his name startled him more than the fact she had come up behind him as silent as a ghost. He turned to find Maly standing behind him, leaning on her staff.
"Yes, Warden," he answered, scooting over to one side of the log and patting it in invitation. Maly smiled and slowly seated herself on the log beside him.
"I wanted to thank you," she said, staring into the fire, "You have been very kind to me, kinder than I deserved."
"Ahh, but dear lady, you deserve every kindness," Jaxon turned slightly towards her, laughing into her serious expression.
She reached up and patted him on the cheek. He caught her hand and held it. "Warden, I know this was not easy for you. If you can help us stave off the Taint for even a few years," his voice trailed away.
"Please, call me Malaya or," she paused and then took that final step, "Or call me Maly."
"Maly, eh," Jaxon shook off his mood easily and chuckled as she retrieved her hand, "Maly seems to suit you best. I do not think you are as serious as 'Malaya' sounds. In fact, I would bet ten sovereigns that you were very mischievous in your day."
Maly found herself warming to his easy manner despite her best efforts and allowed herself a chuckle, "Oh, and what gave you that idea? Are there stories of me, perhaps?"
"Only those that were written by bards," Jaxon tilted his head closer to her, "Your question intrigues me, Maly. Are there stories of you I should know?"
"You are far too young to hear them, my dear, far too young."