It was a fair piece to Brethil, and the sun lying warm on their weary shoulders seemed to invite the travelers to slow their pace and linger in the comfortable embrace of golden light on the hillsides. The air was full of the smell of fallen leaves, pine needles, and golden grasses sun-baked into a perfume. The hearty winter sun drenched everything in view with its undeniable cheer, bringing out the colors across the hills and dales that they tramped through. It seemed unreal that they were fleeing for their lives, that towns burnt and armies marched on such a day that winter had breathed upon so favorably. But it was never far from their minds.
As the sun eventually slipped nearer the horizon Fia noticed that the sunset looked quite different from here than she had ever seen it before. All her life she had watched it sink behind the mountains every evening. And now she saw it from this side of the mountains. It was lingering caressingly over hills and ridges growing gentler and gentler as they stretched to the distant horizon, until it melded into a far-off vista of smooth waves of land. The scene was given the look of some fairyland as the sun, in a bed of riotous colored clouds, sent its last rays towards the east, and the Gerardels.
She had the sudden wish to fly west across the breadth of Othira to the very edge, and see what the sunset looked like from there. As the party stumbled into Brethil she wondered if she might really see just that someday, when the war was over and all was safe again.
She laughed inside herself. Having a prince for a friend might help her reach that western edge.
She cupped her hands beneath the water Elarno was pumping into the trough. Then she grinned in amusement as she brought it up to sink her face into. She still couldn’t get used to that thought… Prince Ilido.
It did sound like a royal person… but not the boy who did the horse chores. Still, if a stable boy had to be a prince, she reflected, he was certainly the one to fill the bill.
She straightened her back and drew a long breath as she wiped the water from her face. Good, clean, pure water, it was an appreciated luxury after the long walk from Arnithera.
Brethil seemed to be a smaller town, but it also seemed to be mainly deserted. She was grateful that the pump at the well still worked, and the water was certainly good.
“Oftentimes there’s a party or two of the king’s men in Brethil,” Elarno informed Ilido. “We ought to look around for them, and they’d be able to tell us where to find horses.”
So while the group composed a camp of sorts, Fia went along with Ilido to see if they could find someone who might give them advice on their current predicament.
Many of the houses still looked as though their families were merely out for the day, but others had fared worse. Some were stained with soot where a campfire had flared up from the traveling bands that now were almost the only inhabitants the town saw. Many buildings lacked windows and doors, and throughout were many bare spots where intricate carvings, once the owner’s pride, had been pried off. Almost anything that could be easily salvaged had been carted away, perhaps by the leaving families to adorn their new homes, or by passers-through.
Halfway through the town they came upon a few such people who appeared to be wandering players or something of that sort. They didn’t interest the two, but as they were passing Fia caught the movement of a man out of the corner of her eye that sent a jolt through her. Her head snapped around and her eyes confirmed what they had first reported. It was Arlot, sneaking carefully away from the others.
Whether it was to avoid her and Ilido or because he was stealing something from someone else she didn’t know. But neither did she care very much. She knew he could not have had time to sell the Sunlight Stone, and that meant there was a good chance it was still on him.
“Psst!” she hissed to Ilido. “Look!” And she pointed down the side street.
Ilido didn’t have to think twice. Like an arrow he was after the scoundrel, and she immediately knew she could not keep up that pace. Like a flash they dodged left, and then right, and then headed into an alley. They had just passed that alley and she knew it curved around towards her again, so she took off running for its other end. As she dashed along the street she noticed a long piece of hefty wood, so she snatched it up and brought it with her just in case.
When she reached the end of the alley they were coming straight towards her at a furious pace. Ilido was almost upon him, but his quarry was as quick as a minnow, and always barely out of reach. As Fia watched, Ilido lunged at Arlot and nearly brought him down, but Arlot kept hurrying forward with Ilido latched onto his leg with one hand and trying to regain his position with the other. Arlot was keeping just far enough ahead that Ilido would eventually have to let go and rebalance himself, and that would be the sly thief’s chance to escape clean away.
She rushed down the alley with her sturdy club gripped tightly. In a second she had positioned herself in front of the scrambling thief, just a little to the side where he could not grab her ankles out from under her, but she could deliver a ringing blow to his head.
“Hold! You friend of snakes, or I’ll smash your head in! Believe you me!” she said menacingly, with her new club in an eager position.
He looked up at her from the ground, and then stilled immediately. In the next breath Ilido was upon him, hurriedly searching through his pockets and purse.
If he’s hidden it somewhere I’ll… she thought, but didn’t have time to finish her dire train of thought.
With an exultant cry Ilido leaped back, his hand clutching tightly the Cororan Solevir of his country. It was wrapped in an old handkerchief, but enough of a gap slipped open to let the pure yellow stone shine out.
“You little thieves!” Arlot yelled suddenly. “Murdering little thieves! Leave me be, I tell you! Give me back what belongs to me!”
In utter astonishment, Fia nearly forgot to brandish her piece of wood at this sudden and inexplicable outburst. At least it was inexplicable till she turned her head.
A man was coming down the alley towards them. Instantly she understood.
Ilido understood, too, and leaping up, he caught hold of the support under the porch roof of a house nearby. Twisting like a cat he pulled himself up and unto the roof, then turned to her.
“Fia!” he cried. “Come on! He’s a liar, but it won’t help us. Hurry!”
But she was intently watching the man coming towards them. The last faint glow of the sun was behind him and interfered with her vision, but there was something so familiar about him…
She said nothing, just shook her head, lifting her hand to block the sun, her eyes riveted to the man, who had quickened his pace and now was only a few lengths away.
“Fia!” Ilido shouted, and then, seeing she was ignoring him, turned on his heel and fled over the rooftops. The Sunlight Stone was too important to be risked.
A joyous laugh suddenly bubbled up from inside her as her suspicions were confirmed.
“Evin!” she exclaimed. “Evin, come and help!”
The wind-blown young man sprang into a gallop. Arlot leaped to his feet and tried to dash back towards the main street, but Fia’s eldest brother was young, and had been hardened by the past months of the campaign. The next second he bore down on the miscreant thief, and then threw him to the ground.
Fia was breathlessly right behind them.
“What has he done, Fia?” Evin asked as he pinned the thief down.
“Good sir!” Arlot weaseled. “There’s been a mistake!”
“No mistake!” Fia’s heart burned. “You tricked us into stealing that gem, and then deserted us!”
“What!” Evin stared at her. “You stole something?”
“Well, he tricked us,” she defended.
“I’m but a poor man, have mercy, kind sir,” Arlot wheedled.
“You have no honor, and deserve no mercy!” Fia shouted with heat. “And before he lets you up you’re going to answer some questions.”
“I know nothing!”
“Fiddle-faddle! Why did you tell us the king was captured?”
Silence.
“Evin… please…” She gestured towards the thief.
Evin’s eyes narrowed and he took a good grip on the scoundrel’s throat. “Talk or you’ll need to find some other way of breathing.”
Arlot’s face contorted miserably. The problem with being a petty criminal is they got that way because they had no principles, or the courage to uphold them. He was a miserable coward… but hated to be reminded of that.
Evin’s grip tightened and Arlot’s face turned a little redder.
“All right!” he yelped, and then gasped a few times. “It was the surest story that you’d fall for.”
“How did you know the gem was there?”
“I’m a spy! It’s my business.”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t believe that.”
“Why’d you want it?” Evin was warming up to this interrogation business, even if he didn’t know the facts. “What were you going to do with it?”
“Make me a big button out of it!” Arlot sneered. The steely fingers constricted and he coughed. “Sell it, of course! There’s a dwarf with the barons that’s offered a fortune for it.”
“With the barons?” Fia leaned over him. “How would he know about it? Why would he want it?”
“He’s a dwarf, stupid!” Being threatened wasn’t making him any more polite. “And how would I know where he finds things out? Dwarves are just plain lunatics, anyway.”
“What’s his name?”
“How would I know?” he snorted. “I just know what has money in it; and this deal does. Plenty!”
He eyed the roughened edge of Evin’s jerkin. “As a matter of fact… there’s enough there what’d make a pretty piece even split in two.”
“What?”
“We can split it.” Arlot warmed to this new idea for escape. “Let me up, we’ll get it back, and I’ll go fifty-fifty with you.” He glanced at Fia. “We’ll forget her.”
“I can’t believe it!” Fia stood astounded. He never gave up.
“All right,” he conceded. “We can split it three ways.”
“Absolutely not!” Fia stamped her foot for emphasis. “You are not getting it back!”
This rascal didn’t seem to get the fact that he had lost the game on this one.
“It’s going back to its rightful owner!” she hissed. “And you’re going to get…”
Fia paused. She wasn’t sure what the penalty would be for gem-stealing, or what sort of judicial system was in place in this war-torn time. “…punished,” she ended, for lack of a more informed conclusion.
“That’s telling him, sis.” Evin stood up and hauled the thief off the ground like a sack of potatoes. “If you’re through now, I believe I’ll take this miscreant back to headquarters and put him in the clink.”
“He’s your brother?” the man groaned.
“Oh, good.” Fia grinned at her idol. “I’m so glad you have one. I was worried what to do with him.”
“Oh, don’t fret about that. It’s part of our job, on patrol.”
“Patrol?” Arlot whispered. “You’re a fighter?”
And the last glimmer of hope winked out in that dark place he called a heart. Nothing would open that sun-browned hand that now twisted a leather braid into cuffs around both wrists. Arlot the thief was caught.
In a minute he was marching along in front of Evin, with Fia right behind.
“How do you come to be here, little sister?” Evin asked.
“I came with…” She looked around. “With him.”
Evin’s blue eyes followed where she pointed. Across the lower roofs Ilido could still be seen hurrying towards the Arnithera group to get reinforcements. With a priceless gem in the pocket of his torn and soot-stained clothes, he was looking really quite laughable, for a prince.
“The rest I’d rather not say in front of him.” She glared at the thief.
“Yes. Well, we’ll get him put away in no time.”
A few more streets and turns and then a guard stepped out of a shadowy corner and Evin greeted him with a muttered password. The guard gave Fia and the prisoner stern looks, which made the girl edge a little closer to her brother, but affected the miserable criminal not at all.
The guard turned on his heel and disappeared into a nearby building, and Fia could hear quiet voices through the empty windows. Shortly, he reappeared with two others. One of them broke into a smile at the sight of Evin; then swiftly repressed it to stare hard-eyed at Arlot.
“This way.” The first guard jerked his head and they went forward. The second dropped into position behind them, and the one who knew Evin stayed, stepping back into the shadowy corner in the first guard’s place.
The five marched in silence for a little way until they reached a particularly large house, one that had been quite imposing before abandonment had saddened its looks. The heavy doors creaked open and the first guard spoke with a heavyset man with a set of large, clanking keys on his belt. He frowned at the trio, and then swung around to lead them down a set of stone stairs.
“We’ll take him from here, Brithin,” the first guard said, and Evin fell out of the line, putting a hand on Fia’s shoulder so that she fell out with him.
“Lock him good and tight, fellows,” Evin called after him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew a few tricks of escaping.”
“Don’t worry!” the second guard called up from the depths of the stair, making his voice ring hollow and strange. “We’ve got a wine cellar with a mountain for a door. He’d have to be a snake to get out of there.”
“Well, he may have legs,” Fia observed in an undertone to her brother, “but, I’m pretty sure he’s related.”
They turned and hurried out into the street again, the saddened air of the old, abandoned house oppressive to them both. They liked to remember houses that were well tended and filled with voices, not moldering with broken windows.
The light was almost disappearing and the street shadows were so dark they blended into themselves like treetops in a forest. They both stood on the bottom step and pulled in a deep breath of fresh evening air to wash the old smell of the house from their lungs.
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