Oathbreaker

Still -- given the state they'd all been in --

Tarma probably hadn't been in a condition to notice much of anything except her oathsister's plight.

And I would give a great deal to know how she managed to bring Kethry back from Death's own arms. Because she's as much as admitted it was all her doing. And I can only wonder what it cost her besides strength and energy -- maybe that's why she didn't want to talk about it. Still and all, she really isn't acting as if it cost her nearly as much as if whatever had happened shook her down to her soul. I think perhaps she learned something she didn't expect to. Whatever it was -- I think perhaps the outcome is going to be a good one. She almost seems warmer somehow. More open. Would she ever have put all her safety and Keth's in my hands before? I-I don't think so.

He stretched, taking pleasure in the feel of joints that weren't popping, and bones that didn't creak. He was sore from the unaccustomed work, but not unbearably so.

Although -- Lady of Light, I've been working like a porter all afternoon, and not had so much as a twinge in the old bones! Now was that just because I was keyed up, or was it something else? Well, I'll know tomorrow. If I ache from head to toe, I'll know I was not privileged to be the recipient of a miracle!

And meanwhile -- the fire needs feeding.

So he watched Kethry, huddled in his own blankets while he fed the fire, and waited for the morning.

* * *

Carter's Lane in the capital city of Petras was living up to its name, even this close to the time for the evening meal. The street was wide enough for four wagons moving two abreast in each direction, and all four lanes were occupied by various vehi-cles now. The steady rumbling of wheels on cobble-stones did not drown out the equally steady hum of voices coming from all sides. Carter's Lane boasted several popular taverns and drinkshops, not the least popular of which was the Pig and Potion. This establishment not only had an excellent cook and an admirable brewmaster, but in addition offered various forms of accommodation -- ranging from single cubbyholes (with bed) that rented by the hour, to rooms and suites of rooms available by the week or month.

It was from the window of one of the latter sorts of lodging that a most attractive young wench was leaning, her generous figure frequently taking the eyes of the cart drivers from their proper work. She was, in fact, the inadvertent cause of several tangles of traffic. She paid this no heed, no more than she did the equally persistent calls of admiration or inquiries as to her price. She was evidently watching for something -- or someone.

And to the great disappointment of her admirers, she finally spotted what she watching for.

'Arton!' the brown-haired, laughing-eyed wench called from her second-floor window. 'I've waited days for you, you ungrateful beast!'

'Now, Janna -- ' The scar-faced fighter who emerged rrom the crowd to stand on the narrow walkway beneath her looked to be fully capable of cutting his way out of any fracas -- except, perhaps, this one.

'Don't you 'now, Janna,' me, you brute!' She vanished from the window only to emerge from a door beside it. The door let onto a balcony and the balcony gave onto a set of stairs that ran down the outside of the inn. Janna clattered down these stairs as fast as her feet could take her. 'You leave me here all alone, and you never come to see me, and you never send me word, and -- '

'Enough, enough!' the Warrior begged, much to the amusement of the patrons of the inn. 'Janna, I've been busy.'

'Oh, busy'. Indeed, I can guess how busy'.' She confronted him with her eyes narrowed angrily, standing on the last two stairs so that her eyes were level with his. Her hands were on her hips, and she thrust her chin forward stubbornly, not at all ready to make peace.

'Give 'im a rest, lass,' called another fighter lounging at an outside table, one wearing the same scarlet-and- gold livery as Arton. 'King's nervy; keeps 'im on 'and most of tti' time. 'E 'as been busy.'

'Oh, well then,' the girl said, seeming a bit more mollified. 'But you could have sent word.'

'I'm here now, aren't I?' he grinned, with just a touch of arrogance. 'And we ought to be making up for lost time, not wrangling in the street.'

'Oh-Ofe!' She squealed in surprise as he picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her up the stairs.

He pulled the door open; closed it behind him.

Silence.

One of the serving girls paused in her distribution of ale mugs, sighed, and made calf eyes at the closed door. 'Such a man. Wisht I 'ad me one like him.'