face, then when he tried to speak no sound came from his throat.
“Come. We need to get away from this ship.”
“Are you-?” Gaven began, then he broke into a fit of coughing.
“Take it easy,” she murmured, stroking his cheek.
“Are you going to turn me in again?”
“What?” she said. “I just saved your life. Can you get up?”
Gaven lifted an arm and tried to lift his body after it, without much luck. Rienne got to her feet and took his hand, and managed to get him sitting up. He held up a finger and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
“Why are you doing this?” he said.
Rienne put her hands on her hips and looked down at him. “Because I love you, damn it. I’m not going to turn you in again. But I need you to tell me what’s going on. If you can do that, I’ll get you out of here, I’ll join you on the run, I’ll make myself a criminal for you. Just let me in.”
Gaven lifted his eyes to meet hers. “I’ll explain everything,” he said.
“Wonderful. Now let’s get out of here.”
He held his hand up. She took it and heaved him to his feet, then wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Lean on me,” she said, and they hobbled as quickly as he could manage away from the burning wreckage of the Morning Zephyr.
Rienne spotted her mare-as well as Ossa and the human, trying to grab the mare’s reins as she bucked and neighed. “That’s a good girl,” Rienne whispered. “Don’t let the bad people catch you.” She whistled, high and long and loud, and the mare’s ears pricked. The horse reared up again, backing away from the others, then ran past them to reach Rienne.
As the mare ran by, the human saw his opportunity. He grabbed the horn of the saddle and leaped onto the mare’s back. The horse tossed her head and screamed, but the man held on. His feet found the stirrups and he clutched the reins, but he let her keep running to Rienne.
“No!” Rienne shouted, waving her arms over her head. “Go back or throw him or something!”
“Bordan d’Velderan,” Gaven muttered. “And his Kundarak friend.” His hand went over his shoulder to his scabbard, but he found the ash staff instead of his greatsword’s hilt. He looked at Rienne with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It must still be on the Zephyr.” As she spoke, she drew Maelstrom from its scabbard.
She saw the man, Bordan, draw back at the sight of her steel, but then he hunched over the mare’s back again, guiding the horse directly toward her.
“He’s going to try to use you to get at me,” Gaven said. “Clearly, he doesn’t know you very well.”
Rienne shot him a grim smile and focused her thoughts as she settled into a ready stance, Maelstrom poised over her head. She waited, utterly motionless, as Bordan drove the mare forward, faster and faster. As he drew near, he leaned out, reaching down as if to grab her waist and hoist her up.
Rienne only wished she could see his face as she grabbed his arm and used the mare’s speed to throw herself into the air. Her feet went up in a wide arc, and her body followed. Suspended above her would-be captor, she slammed both feet into the side of his head, sending him tumbling from the saddle. She landed astride the mare and pulled on the reins. The mare wheeled around and trotted back to where Gaven stood over Bordan.
“Leave him, Gaven,” she said, reining in the mare beside him.
Rienne clutched Gaven’s arm and helped him swing up behind her. He put his arms around her waist-a little hesitantly, she thought-and she had to stifle a gasp. It had been so long since she’d felt those arms around her, she had all but forgotten how it made her feel.
She urged the mare back to a gallop, no destination in mind but away. This time, though the hoofbeats filled her ears, all she felt was Gaven pressed against her, holding her. After almost thirty years, she had finally come home.
CHAPTER 35
I think it’s time to honor your promise,” Rienne said.
She sat on the edge of a hard, lumpy bed in a squalid inn, somewhere in northern Breland. She didn’t know the name of the town, and she didn’t care. Gaven stretched in the bed, and for the first time in two days, he didn’t wince in pain. That confirmed her assessment that he was well enough to start talking.
“Rienne,” he said, “I promised to marry you a long time ago and under very different circumstances. I think-”
“Not that promise, you ogre.” She slapped his shoulder. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember. You promised to explain everything.”
“Can I eat breakfast first?”
“No. Get started.”
“It’ll be time for luncheon before I’m done explaining, and you won’t be able to hear me over the rumbling of my stomach.”
She quirked her mouth at him, then broke into a full smile. “Very well, we’ll get some food, and you can tell me everything while we eat. And if I’m pleased with the story, we’ll buy you a new sword before we head out of town.”
Gaven grinned. “Thanks, Mama.”
She cupped his cheek in her hand and smiled at him. How long since he had called her that? It was an old joke between them-he complained that she mothered him, but she knew he appreciated it. And no matter how many times she reminded herself that she had many reasons to be angry at him, she couldn’t help but thrill at every such recollection of their old life together. And to savor the feeling of his skin under her fingers.
He insisted that she turn away while he stood and dressed, which made her smile even more, thinking of the evening she had bathed him, tended his wounds, and dressed him when he was too weak to do it himself. But she resisted the temptation to nettle him further by peeking over her shoulder.
They were quiet as they left the inn and went in search of a fruitseller. Rienne couldn’t think of anything to talk about besides the coming explanation, and Gaven seemed deep in thought, as if composing the words he would say. Her mind raced through all the things she thought he might say to her, and her mood grew darker. Her thoughts kept circling back to the elf woman in Vathirond, the one who had been arrested.
She watched Gaven pick out fruit. He checked each piece over for bruises or rot, used his thumb to test its firmness, and finally brought it to his nose before deciding whether to buy it. They bought a small bag of plums, a block of sharp cheese, and a fresh loaf of bread, then started back to the inn. By the time they reached the corner of the building, Rienne scowled down at the dirt road beneath her feet, tormenting herself with thoughts of Gaven testing the fruit of that elf strumpet.
“Hey,” Gaven said, coming to a sudden stop just outside the door to the inn.
Rienne’s sword flew into her hand as she whirled around to face him; it whistled softly as it bit through the air-and neatly cut through the plum that Gaven had tossed at her. She caught one half in her left hand, and the other landed in Gaven’s outstretched palm. He laughed, and she couldn’t help but smile again.
“I see Maelstrom hasn’t lost its edge,” Gaven said, pulling the pit out of his half of the plum and holding it up to her. Rienne’s cut had divided the pit in half. His eyes found hers. “And you haven’t lost yours, either.”
She brought the point of her sword right under his chin. “And don’t you forget it,” she said, trying to scowl again.
He winked, and her face dissolved into a smile. She returned Maelstrom to its sheath, took a bite of her plum, and started up the inn stairs.
Back in the room, she sat cross-legged on her bed while he sprawled across his, devouring a plum.
“Where to start?” he wondered aloud, wiping juice from his chin and tossing the pit aside.
Rienne cut a piece of cheese from the block. “Perhaps at the point where you started acting like a madman?”
“Hm, no. I think I need to go further back.” He pressed his palms to his eyes and drew a deep breath. “All
