contract with Mika and her intended's parents. The wizard smiled, soaking in the sight of such a normal activity. This would be the third marriage to be contracted since she came to stay. It was a good sign, meaning that the people had faith in her ability to keep them and their village safe. She hoped that she could live up to such expectations.
Efeon looked up just then, his solemn face breaking into one of his rare smiles at the sight of her. The smile was fleeting, but Marise could feel the warmth it engendered still within her. She smiled back at him, and continued on her way. Peddlers had arrived the night before, and Cheon wanted her to handle their goods, ensure that nothing was bespelled.
She smiled again, amused at the level of contentment she had found in this simple village. After all those years of wandering. All those mornings of being convinced that your fate lay over the next hill, and then the next, to come home in a ragged village half the size of the home you left in such a hurry. She thought of Efeon, and her smile grew warmer. Home, indeed. And someone to share it with, perhaps?
'I think it would be a good idea, m'boy. You've not stirred from this place since your arrival. Now, you've seen more of the world than I, that's obvious, but even a place so charming as this must wear on the senses after a bit. Even Marise gets out and every day. You just sit here, never so much as leaving sight o' this cottage. That can't be healthy, now, can it?'
Marise stopped outside the door and eavesdropped shamelessly. Betin had been after Efeon for weeks now, trying to convince the younger man to go with him on his rounds. The only healer within five villages, he spent much of his time traveling. He had asked her, but Marise didn't like to leave the village unprotected for longer than a day. That was all it would take for bandits to ride in and torch everything. So now he was turning his old man wiles on Efeon, who so far seemed immune.
'I told you already, Betin. I have no desire to go anywhere. This place suits me.'
'Eh, sure it does. And the view suits you fine too, I'm sure. Well, that's all well and fine between you and Marise. No shame there, she's a fine woman, and a fine wizard too. But a man shouldn't be too settled, not at your young age. Plenty of pretty girls to wink at, where I'm going. And Marise none the wiser, eh?'
'Thinking to hide something from a wizard, old man?' she said, choosing that moment to enter the cottage, her arms laden with the first produce from the glass-enclosed garden she had helped build for Eiline over the winter.
Betin rose to help her, his customary grin telling her plainly that he knew she was not upset with him. Taking the pale roots from her arms and carrying them into the tiny storeroom, he said over his shoulder, 'Ye may think I can't, but ye'd never know it if I could, now would you, child?'
Marise made a fond face at the old man's back, then turned to greet her houseguest. Efeon sat at the worktable, watching her with those brown-green eyes, his face smooth, as though he had never had an angry moment in his life. Marise smiled at him, trying to coax some spark to his eyes, then sighed, giving up. He was in a mood, then. She damned Betin, then retracted the thought. It wasn't the healer's fault that Efeon could range from laughter to scowls faster than a person could track.
'What is it, my river fox?' she asked gently, moving to stand in front of him, her hand tilting his chin up so as to look into his eyes. 'Tell me what bothers you.'
Efeon took his chin out of her hands with a jerk, not meeting her eyes, 'That man. He comes in here, without so much as a by-your-leave, and starts harassing me to travel with him. As though it would be some honor to be chained to the prattling fool for days on end!'
Marise looked to the roof as if patience might be there, waiting to be found. 'He is a good man,' she began, 'and wants only—'
Betin returned then, wiping his hands on his dun-colored pants. 'You should clean in there more often, wizard,' he scolded her, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. 'Do you think your skills will save you from rats? Or food turning because you left it out too long? It must be something in your training is all I can think. You're almost as much a fool as our last wizard.'
Efeon slapped his hands down on the table, startling Betin into silence. Marise, having seen the warning signs, was less surprised.
'Efeon, no.' If she remained calm, he would cool down. 'He meant no harm, no disrespect.'
This time it didn't work. Betin backed up as the younger man advanced on him. 'You will not speak that way of wizards,' Efeon warned him, his tone cold and even like thick lake ice. 'You will have respect for those better than you.'
'Efeon!' Marise said desperately. This was what she had feared, that his anger would turn against one of those she had sworn to protect. 'Efeon, no!' She prayed that Betin would back away, let the stranger inhabiting Efeon's body win. But the old man, over-talkative and nosy, had never backed down from a fight, whether against illness or injury or the challenge of a bully.
'Better?' Betin spluttered. 'Better? Why you insolent cur! We take you in, a stranger to our town, offer every chance to be as one of us—'
Efeon laughed, a sharp bark of sound that chilled Marise. 'One of you? Protect me from the thought! I would sooner lie down with the swine than claim such kinship.' The corner of his upper lip turned in a mockery of a smile. 'Or do you truly think yourself my equal? Come here, old man, and show me how equal we are.' His hands, those long-fingered, graceful hands Marise so admired, called to the healer, inviting him to attack.
Had Efeon's opponent been a younger man, one who had not spent his entire adult life healing wounds rather than causing them, his taunt would have worked. But Betin hesitated a breath's pause before attacking. Into that hesitation Marise threw a hasty spell, taking control of their leg muscles. Efeon lurched forward one step, then wobbled, his fists open and dangerous-looking.
'You will apologize to Betin.' Her voice was very soft, very even, and impossible to resist. Please, she thought, please let this work!
'I... apologize.' Efeon's face clenched, then smoothed out as though someone had drawn a wet cloth over sand. 'I am truly sorry,' he said in a quieter voice. 'I have a quick temper, as Marise can attest, and often speak words I do not intend.'
Betin harrumphed, unimpressed. 'Maybe so, maybe not. But I think I'll be watching you, young Efeon. Indeed I will.' He stalked to the door, legs still stiff from the spell. One hand on the doorlatch, he turned. 'And don't think that invitation to journey with me still stands, neither!'
