Dark Heart

'Whoa!' Ursa Il Kinth said, looking over his shoulder warily. 'Not so loud.'

She made a move. He grabbed her arm, but gently. 'You've had enough fighting for today,' Ursa urged quietly.

He let her arm go. Kitiara stood her ground, her eyes flashing. All weariness had vanished, replaced by a surge of energy. 'I owe you a whipping going back years!' Kit said angrily.

He sat down and pulled off his cowl, shaking his long, tawny hair free. Kit had time to grab a weapon-and did. Her bag with the sword in it was across the room. The studded cudgel she hefted would have to do.

She waited for Ursa to make a move, but he just sat there, staring up at her with his dark, glinting eyes.

'Yes,' he said at last in a somber voice. 'That was bad business all around. You owe me a whipping, and I owe you your share of… of that job.'

'Where is it? Don't think you'll get away this time without giving it to me!' She jabbed him in the chest with her cudgel.

Halfheartedly, he pushed the weapon aside. 'Don't be a fool,' he said. 'You're better set than me now.' Instinctively she patted the half purse of gold in her pocket, Ursa's eyes watching her a little wistfully.

'I owe you something,' he continued. 'I don't deny it. But I'm glad to see you. Can't you see that? Even though you did cost me a fair slice of what little money I was carrying.' He grinned sheepishly. 'Like everybody else, I had made my bets on Camium.'

She snorted unsympathetically.

'It took me a while to recognize you. But eventually I couldn't help but see through the poor disguise of someone who first taught me the virtues of wooden weapons as a girl,' he said in his best teasing manner. 'You weren't such a bad fighter even then, but you're damned impressive now, I have to admit. What are you doing in these parts anyway?'

Kit scowled, softening. In truth she was a little glad to see Ursa with his roguish grin. He seemed sincere, if a trifle low-spirited. 'You first,' she said, lowering her cudgel. 'What are you doing in these parts?'

'I've got a job,' he said, brightening. 'Me and Cleverdon-yes, he's still with me. Not the others.' Ursa's face clouded over. 'I'll tell you all about the others later. Now what about you?'

She didn't see any reason to hold back. Kit told him, briefly, the story of her mock betrothal to Patric, her sea voyage, his mysterious murder, and her escape overboard. It already seemed like years ago.

'The Silver Gar' Ursa exclaimed. 'Everybody in the crowd was talking about that ship. It put into Vocalion just this afternoon for repairs. It sits in the harbor even as we speak. The talk is that the captain is in a state, for he must sail back to home port with the dead body of his lord.'

The news stunned Kit. 'If the Silver Gar is here,' she put in excitedly, 'that means I might be able to get Cinnamon back.'

'If what you tell me is true,' Ursa said, 'you had better be careful.'

'True…'

'I tell you what,' Ursa said. 'Join up with me, and I'll get Cinnamon back for you somehow.'

Kit was about to object when he put up his hand. 'And in good time I will pay you back what I owe you,' the mercenary promised. 'You may as well trust me on that.'

Ursa's tall, stooped companion waited for them in an unsavory section of the waterfront. Droopface-she could think of him by no other name-evinced no surprise, no reaction whatsoever to Kit's presence in their midst after two years. For her part, she wished that she could take her sword-or something-to the traitor, but Ursa's whispering restrained her.

If she had to admit it, with silent resignation, Kit was comfortable with the idea of working with these two again.

'There it is! I see it!' Kit exclaimed. The Silver Gar was docked at a pier right off the waterfront, a gangplank leading up to it. She thought she spotted La Cava stalking around on deck and pulled her companions into the shadows of an alleyway.

'There's the captain. My advice is not to run afoul of him, whatever you do. I think he's your match, and then some,' Kit said to Ursa.

The young woman peered around the corner again and saw several of the passengers returning up the gangplank. No sign of Cinnamon, who was probably being cared for below.

'Our horses are stabled on the edge of town. You and Cleverdon get them and take them to the edge of the marsh just north of here. Cleverdon will know where I mean.'

Droopface nodded silently.

'Wait for me there,' added Ursa. 'I'll join you as soon as I can. If Cinnamon can be sprung, I'm the man.' Some of his old cockiness had returned.

Droopface shifted, and Kit got up to go with him. Ursa put a hand on her arm. 'Wait, Kit,' he said. 'How about that purse?'

Her mouth opened to protest.

'For bribes,' he grinned, 'and other operating expenses.'

With a sigh she felt in her pocket and handed it over. Ursa was right: she might as well trust him. And she hadn't had any illusions about holding onto her gold for very long anyway.

The three of them moved out of the alleyway between two buildings, Kit and Droopface going off in one direction, Ursa melting into the crowd in the other. After they had split up, a cloaked figure emerged from a nearby doorway, gazing after them. If Kitiara had looked back, she would have recognized the dark elf from the Silver Gar.

Chapter 13

The Slig's Lair

Kitiara and Droopface had been waiting at the designated rendezvous, on the edge of a reedy marsh ten miles east of Vocalion, for almost two days. At first Kit was patient, but as time wore on she grew restless, worrying that something had happened to Ursa.

Their makeshift camp was concealed by a cover of tall fireweed and sawgrass, away from the main road. All around them was a sparsely wooded lowland plain dotted with ponds and ice. To the north Kit could glimpse a snow-dappled range of mountains.

During their wait Droopface had said little, as was his wont. If the tall, stooped, lugubrious one was at all worried by Ursa's absence, he did not show it. He had reverted to his usual self, stoically reading his tome of magic, his lips moving soundlessly as he occasionally slobbered over the pages.

At last, when it seemed as if her nerves were about to burst from the waiting. Kit heard a clatter of hooves and then the sounds of several horses that had left the highway and were pounding in their direction. She realized that Droopface must have been more concerned than he let on, for he had stood up and was fidgeting expectantly.

Ursa hove into sight, and Kit's heart leaped when she saw the horse that was trotting behind his own. 'Cinnamon!' she cried joyously, and rushed forward to untie her father's horse and give Cinnamon an unabashed hug. 'How did you get her back?' she demanded of Ursa. 'How-'

Even as she asked that question, Kit became aware of another rider close on Ursa's heels, pulling up on a skewbald pony. This new arrival had long, free-flowing sandy hair entwined with feathers and was wearing a painted leather vest and chaps. Yet what took Kit most by surprise was that the stranger was a young woman.

This female addition to the group dismounted gracefully. She was rather short, almost pygmy-like in stature, but obviously limber and strong. She eyed Kit, fingering the dagger thrust into her belt.

'It wasn't easy,' bragged Ursa, tying his horse as he gave a rippling laugh. 'That ship's captain, I think he wanted to keep your horse as his own. Cinnamon was getting the royal treatment. They kept a constant guard over her, and I could barely get near her without raising suspicion. I learned, however, that she was taken off ship, twice