He was in the camp, waiting for Malin to return. He was sweating, though it wasn't particularly hot out. He was going to tell her something. His heart was racing, the perspiration dripping down his chin. He'd been here before, told her something... this was a dream but also a memory...He wasn't sleeping, he'd been knocked out...
She arrived, making far too much noise, as she always had, crunching through the falling leaves. Her face was pale, her eyes tired. He was surprised that he remembered what she looked like. Slight, light-skinned half-elf. Her face had taken on a haunted look.
"Don't worry," she said, "I've taken care of it."
He was jolted awake by a sudden motion. He looked around, his vision blurry, and realized that he was in Rafa's boat, and they had just taken off from the dock out back of Hayat Ensaan's house.
"And how in the hells was I supposed to know he was not one of Hayat's thugs?" a woman's voice asked.
He tried to move, his limbs felt sluggish and frozen. His vision was clearing, but very slowly. He was thankful that he recognized the voice that responded as that of Rafa the boatman, and not of some jailer that had caught him, red-handed, in the mayor's house.
"Good gods, Shiren, does he look like a thug?" Rafa's voice responded, sounding exasperated.
"He looks like some sunburnt foreigner," the woman's voice replied.
Bishop rubbed his eyes and shook his head. He could see passably, now, but his brain was slow to register and place the images his eyes were taking in. He explored his scalp with both hands, finding a rapidly rising goose egg. He felt sick and tired, the pain radiating from the bruise on his head and reaching his very fingers and toes.
"Well good, at least you didn't kill him," Rafa said, noticing that the stranger had come to and glancing down at him, "Are you all right, Keowan?"
Bishop felt about with his hands. The damp planks of the boat, the leather of Rafa's shoes He was lying on the bottom, with Rafa crouched over him, and a young woman who could only have been Shiren at the stern with the pole in her hands. The were moving sideways across the river, and he could see Shiren struggling with the pole against the strong current. His vision cleared rapidly as he struggled to sit up, and then promptly vomited over the side of the boat, his right hand curled around Rafa's calf for support. He felt the blood rush to his eyes as he retched. Why in the hells did we rescue her? What in the hell happened in there?
"Gods almighty," he said, between heaves, giving voice to the thoughts he'd had, "What happened?"
"I'm sorry, stranger," Shiren said. She had husky voice, not mannish, but she sounded older than her years, which Bishop would have estimated at seventeen if he'd been asked, "Yesterday, when it became clear that no amount of my tears would dissuade Hayat from his intent, I offered to cook him a meal, as a wife ought to for her husband. He's a foolish man, he thought I had actually had a change of heart, and so he brought me ingredients – the finest wild venison from the herds that roam the tundras, and vegetables whose names I don't even know. I cooked all day, and invited all of the servants and guards to partake in the stew... which I had, of course, sprinkled liberally with a powerful sedative."
"I have to admit," Bishop said, and then paused as another torrent of puke made its away from his stomach, up and out of his mouth, "That's terribly clever."
"A girl does what she must," Shiren said. In the moonlight, her skin looked pale, though he imagined she was swarthy and black-haired like most Thayans. He understood why a man like Hayat Ensaan would try to buy her, and to kidnap her when that failed. For men like Hayat, a woman as beautiful as Shiren was final proof of their worth, proof that no matter how fat or otherwise unappealing they were, they could best ordinary men in every way – even having a lovely wife to haul out at dinner parties. He also understood how she had had to figure out to defend herself, just as Kyla and Addie had. Beauty had a price.
"And you had planned to what?" Rafa said, "Knock them all out, and sneak back across the river yourself?"
She chuckled lowly. His vision was still a bit blurry, but he could see that they were rapidly approaching the town dock, "I can swim, after all," she said.
They reached the dock and Rafa lept out onto it, his long legs straddling the boat and shore for a moment as he went. He grabbed a line and tied up the boat.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
"I think so," Bishop said. He rose, but immediately the world swirled around his head and he found himself tipping this way and that, until he landed with a splash in the river. The current started to take him, and he flailed out with both hands, looking for something to grab onto. He went under, once, twice, and then, to his relief, Rafa grabbed him under both arms and hauled him onto the river bank. He turned over, vomiting again, "Gods, you know you could have asked before knocking me over the head with a damn frying pan, woman!"
"I'm surprised a man like you wasn't on his guard," Shiren said, "You were lucky it was just me with a frying pan, and not one of Hayat's goons with an arrow in your back." But, she lent him support, slinging his arm over her shoulder while Rafa held up from the other side, and wiped the puke off of his chin with the tail of her headscarf.
It took them nearly half an hour to get to Abu-Nisah's house, even after Bishop had recovered enough to walk on his own. The old man was beside himself to have his granddaughter back, covered her face with kisses, and held her so tightly she complained that she could not breathe. He had a spare healing potion in his trunk, which he gladly gave to Bishop, who was grateful for the respite from the pain and nausea, and happy that the ridiculous-looking swelling on his head went down quickly after a shot of the slightly sweet blue liquid.
"Now that we are all here," Rafa said, "We need to have a talk. Keowan, when did you say your crew would be by?"
"I imagine that I am no more than three days ahead of them," Bishop said, "But there is the possibility that they will have been delayed. It would be careless of me not to warn you of that. I did not anticipate Shiren herself being the instrument of Hayat's undoing."
"I should have known my Shiren would not simply wait around to be rescued," Abu-Nisah said.
"It does make things interesting, for us," Rafa said, his eyes on the fire, "Surely they will not allow such a deed to go unpunished. Poisoning the mayor, and then making a fool of him. If it is indeed true that the stranger's crew will be coming up river, it may be prudent for us to... leave town for a bit."
"He's right," Shiren said, "The poison I fed them will keep them asleep for a day, and sick for a day after that, but after that, there is no telling what they would do to us should they find us here."
The three of them looked at Bishop.
"What do you want from me?" he asked. He was still wallowing in the ecstasy of his head not hurting like a nest of hornets had been shoved into one of his ears.
"Let us travel with you," Shiren said, "It is nearly a week's journey to Thaymount, and the roads are dangerous for a stranger in this land. The Red Wizards rule that city with an iron fist."
"I don't do roads," Bishop said, "And this is turning out to be more than I bargained for. I have spent a good deal of my life wandering the land, trying not to be caught. And I have to say, the rare occasions when I have been tracked down, it is because a companion or two of mine has been careless."
"With all due respect, stranger," Rafa said, "If you are looking for your love, beyond Thay into Rashemen, then four pairs of eyes are better than one."
"Ah, so the stranger has a quest of his own!" Shiren said, smirking, her black eyes sparkling in the firelight. She was seated a respectable two or so feet away from Rafa, but Bishop could see that, under the table around which they sat, her hand grasp his knee tightly. He felt a pang of jealousy.
"Ah yes," Rafa said, "It seems we are not the only two starcrossed lovers in this tale," he grinned, "What did you say her name was? Adona?"
"Adahni," Bishop corrected him.
Abu-Nisah cleared his throat, "I see that none of you have bothered to consult your elder on this matter. I have been walking this world for longer than the three of you combined, and I believe that that has earned me the right to have my voice heard."
"I apologize, Granddad," Shiren said, "What would you have us do?"
"Why, follow the stranger, of course!" Abu-Nisah said, his green eyes disappearing into a web of wrinkles as he grinned. Bishop was impressed to see that the old man had all of his teeth, though they were a rather sickly shade of yellow, "Go on an adventure! It has been so long..."
"Are you sure you can keep the pace with us, Uncle?" Bishop asked, "If Hayat Ensaan has fifty herdsmen in his employ, we will have to hurry."
"Oh, pish posh!" the old man exclaimed, "I can wrestle a full grown bull to the ground and catch a hog who's had a five minute head start. I'm probably nimbler on my feet than young Rafa here. And handier with a knife."
"I know the land," Rafa said, "I know every twist and bend of the river, I know where the fish come to spawn, I know which of the weeds are edible."
"And you, Shiren, what can you do?" asked Bishop, looking at the young woman, who smirked in return.
"I can defeat a household of guards and servants with one sprig of one plant grown in the gardens," she said, "I suppose you can bring down men with that bow on your back? I can make the arrows fell the strongest men even if you barely nick the skin."
"You're rather frightening, aren't you," Bishop said, "I like that. You're a lucky man, Rafa. Imagine if you were on her bad side."
Shiren chuckled, "We all have our uses in this world, do we not?"
"I suppose we do," Rafa said, "Very well. We set out for Thaymount. I will tell my mother to send word when Hayat is defeated, and we may return."
"And be married properly," Abu-Nisah said, "And if you two think you'll be sharing a bedroll on this journey, you are sorely mistaken."
"Yes, Granddad," Shiren said, her face going red.
"It's settled, then!" Abu-Nisah said, clapping his dry, gnarled hands together in excitement, "We're off to Thaymount!"
"Very well," Bishop said, "And perhaps you might advise me on a bargain I must make with the wizards there."
"And what bargain is that?" Shiren asked.
"My ship needs passage to Mulsantir," Bishop said.
"Ahhh," Rafa said, "Now that is expensive. You're asking them to change the very course of the river. Of course... they say that the headmistress of the Academy is a very powerful wizard, almost godlike in her talents."
"We'll see," Bishop said, "For now, we must away. Pack what you need, Rafa, go speak to your mother. I will meet you on the northern road out of town in one hour. Whatever you do on this journey, I need you to trust what I tell you, and for all the gods' sake... listen to me."
"Very well," Abu-Nisah said, "An adventure begins! Just what I need to round out a full life!"
"I wish you wouldn't say it like that," Shiren said, "It sounds like it will bring bad luck."
"I think you'll find," Bishop said, "That luck is quite overrated."