A Suitable Bodyguard, page 5
He smiled a little when Tahlen stayed silent but did not ride ahead. It was not a happy smile, but he didn’t think Tahlen would notice.
“Though I understand why you’ve come along, you should know that I also had selfish motives to be here.” Zelli rolled a shoulder nervously as he made the admission. “I didn’t want when I meet my future intended to be the only time I travel. Whoever Grandmother chooses will find me dull, I’m sure, at least in that respect. I’ve never been to the palace. I’ve never even been across the mountains. Although, of course, I will try my best to be interesting to them.”
Tahlen gave him another glance, then yet another. “You’ve never seen more? Even as a child?”
Zelli did not think that was the question Tahlen had intended to ask with that first glance, but Zelli might have also been imagining things.
He sighed. “I’ve seen this valley all the way to the other end. But I was much younger and the memories are vague.” He didn’t ask about what places Tahlen had seen. It wasn’t right for him to demand confidences. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me, Tahlen,” he said instead, formally. “Grandmother will be reassured and… I find your presence reassuring as well. Although I am sure your weapons will not be necessary.”
“You hope,” Tahlen corrected.
“I hope,” Zelli agreed.
Silence returned between them. Zelli would have sighed about that too, but then Tahlen broke it, as soft as the fog dispersing around them. “About that. If something does happen, I want you to run.”
Lemon Blossom objected to whatever Zelli must have done upon hearing that. He absently patted her. “Run?” he demanded.
Tahlen nodded. “It’s the safest thing you can do. Run. Hide, if possible. If worse comes to worse… do you have a knife, even just for sharpening quills? A rock would do, in a pinch.” He did not say it as if this advice was theoretical. A rock would do, Tahlen said, because he must know that for certain. “But before all of that—run, and hide if you can.”
“That is…” Zelli opened and shut his mouth several times, “…insulting and outrageous and… I’m to just leave you to it, then? What if you’re hurt? What if you die?”
A mention of death earned him not even the smallest glance from Tahlen.
Tahlen’s voice stayed soft. “I am sworn to serve the Tialttyrin family, and I have mostly found it a house worth serving.”
Mostly.
Zelli had annoyed him. He flattened his mouth. “I will strive to do better.”
He did not look over to see what Tahlen did, even though Tahlen’s tone deepened with what might have been dismay. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Zelli.”
“I upset you.” Zelli hadn’t intended to bring it up and fretted over that too. “I’m sorry.”
If anything he said should have been ignored, it was that, but he turned toward Tahlen in grateful relief when Tahlen called his name.
Tahlen’s gaze was steadier than Zelli could ever have managed. “I have no desire to rise in rank, please believe me.” Zelli nodded eagerly to indicate he did believe that and Tahlen blinked, perhaps startled, but continued. “Regarding anything else… you did nothing wrong. Never think that.”
The dreadful sensation in Zelli’s chest did not ease even when Tahlen looked away.
“You don’t need to be kind to me.” Zelli did not allow his voice to tremble. “But you didn’t want to speak to me—of it,” he added hurriedly, so Tahlen would not think him demanding. “So we don’t have to. I’ll behave better. And soon, I won’t even be around to bother you!” He hoped it came out brightly, although he had not allowed himself to consider that, either, in the past few months.
When he left, he would not see Tahlen again. Not for a long time.
A wretched, horrible thought. Zelli should not have voiced it. And now he had no tasks to distract him from it.
He had spent several months distracting himself, he realized in that very moment, and wondered that Tahlen and Grandmother would bother with him at all.
“You’re staring,” Tahlen remarked after a while, unexpectedly rough. “You have nothing to worry about,” he said again.
This time, Zelli understood. Tahlen meant he wasn’t angry, but he wasn’t going to ask again or bring it up. That was more than Zelli had hoped for.
He gave Tahlen a wide smile he doubted Tahlen noticed, and like Tahlen, turned away from the previous subject of conversation. “When we get to the village, they’re going to think you are The Tialttyrin.” It was a joke, but he was probably right. “You have a noble bearing I never will.”
Tahlen was a legend in a song, the very image of a hero on a faded tapestry full of flowers and fae watching from the corners and lots of armored bodies missing their heads around the feet of his beautiful steed.
“You have the hair… and height… of your family,” Tahlen offered, Zelli hoped not with pity. “And they will recognize who you are as soon as you speak. It is inescapable. They will listen whether they want to or not. They’ll have to.”
Tahlen did not sigh in a melancholic fashion after that, it merely seemed as though he did.
Zelli perked up slightly, even if Tahlen was being polite. “Thank you.” He resisted the urge to squirm at Tahlen’s approval. “As I said, I’m glad to have you with me. Though I still almost wish I were more the sort of beat-of-four who did not rely on guards so much, the sort to be trusted to ride out on their own. But then, I also would like it if things were less dangerous right now, and that, if we are to have a ruler, it will be a good one, who lasts. I don’t much care about the descent from Earls, or the right Earls. Though I suppose I should.” He made a face. “I’ve too many things to wish for, really, when wishes should be made with care or not at all, and I don’t have to work in the fields for my wine, or stand in the heat of the kitchens for my bread. Or… wear armor and swear to die for someone else.”
He thought, too late, that if he were speaking of wishes, he might have wished for someone in his future marriage who might love him. Or for Tahlen to. Or for Tahlen to find love elsewhere. But all of that stayed locked in his throat.
Anyway, Tahlen turned to him and the fire in his gaze was so startling that Zelli forgot to breathe.
“Zelli, I could have worked for you without taking any oaths. I chose it. And I tell you again now, I will put my body between yours and danger, freely, gladly. Don’t waste a wish thinking otherwise.”
A hoarse, wheezing sound pushed its way from Zelli’s chest.
It was foolish to be glad that Tahlen was not angry with him, and at the same time, to want to shout that he would not accept Tahlen dying for him. Zelli would call the attention of every fae in the other world and this one before he would allow that to happen, and bit his lip with his sharp, sharp teeth to keep that inside with everything else.
“I would never forgive you if you died for me.” He managed it after too long of a silence, when the fog had all but cleared and Tahlen had turned to face forward once more. “Although I would not outlive you long, since your sister would kill me,” Zelli added, only marginally calmer.
He did not imagine the quick twist of Tahlen’s lips, the brief half-smile. He did not.
“She might,” Tahlen agreed. His tone suggested the smile had never happened.
But it had.
Zelli turned his head so he wouldn’t be caught staring again and they continued on, side by side, in silence that was confusing, but not as heavy as before.
Four
The moment a large building for the making of wine came into sight in the distance in one of the fields beyond the road, Tahlen slowed to ride slightly behind Zelli. By the time the shapes of houses in the village could be seen on the horizon, Tahlen had thrown his cloak over one shoulder to free his sword arm and pulled back even more so that Zelli was unquestionably in the lead.
Zelli tried to pat his hair into place and straighten his clothing before anyone could see him, but someone must have noticed their approach because a few children were waiting along the roadside as they started to pass houses that stood alone, and then more children and several adults as well as the houses began to stand closer together on either side of the road that bisected the village.
The skies held only one or two clouds and the sun was high. Tahlen had believed Grandmother wouldn’t send anyone after them if it was clear they would reach the nearest village before anyone could catch up with them; she wouldn’t want to risk looking foolish by publicly dragging back an unruly family member.
Zelli thought he would have done it if he were disobeyed, but then he supposed it wasn’t a serious enough matter when considered that way. He wasn’t riding to gather forces against her. He was stubbornly and perhaps incompetently trying to help her.
But Tahlen might be right. They’d heard no fast-approaching riders chasing after them. Zelli was free, for the moment. Grandmother would have to trust him.
The enormity of that hit him as they reached a good-sized building, the biggest structure within sight, and Tahlen cleared his throat as if to tell Zelli something.
People were gathered around, although keeping their distance, and they all seemed to have stopped, so Zelli stopped too. He was wondering if he ought to ask one of them where to go when a dainty woman stepped out of the large building to appraise Zelli. She looked past him when she’d completed her study and smiled widely.
Twisting around, Zelli saw Tahlen smiling back at her, and faced forward again to consider her with interest.
Younger than Grandmother by decades, with some silver in her nearly black hair, which was twisted up atop her head like a crown, a length of cloth woven in with it. Her pants looked to be wool and her long shirt was likely linen. Her apron had flour all over it. Her skin was darker than Aunt Bet’s—who was really a cousin but old enough to be an aunt and the title made things less confusing—and her smile for Tahlen revealed a dimple on one cheek.
Tahlen had not been trained in protocol or the traditions of the Tialttyrin family, but he must have remembered quite a bit from his visit here years before, because he dismounted gracefully, moved to stand between the woman and Zelli, and then said in a voice that carried, “This is Mizel of the Tialttyrin. He is here to listen and to offer judgments on whatever you put before him. He will be speaking as The Tialttyrin.”
Zelli snapped his jaw shut just before the woman turned to study him again. He shot Tahlen a quick look full of many questions and Tahlen stared back, as unperturbed as ever.
“This is the owner of this inn,” Tahlen informed Zelli smoothly, “Stern Sar.”
“And mayor this year,” Stern Sar added merrily. “It’s my turn.”
She gazed expectantly up at Zelli.
Zelli, not used to being looked up to, immediately thought he should get down and did so, forgetting in his haste that he did not have a mounting block to rely on. He hit the ground harder than he would have liked but smiled as though he didn’t hear giggles.
“We have smaller horses, but I am fond of Lemon Blossom,” he explained himself to no one in particular, then faced Stern Sar. “Good day,” he told her with palace manners he’d never gotten to use. “I’m here to offer my help as one of the Tialttyrin. It’s an honor to meet you. We might have met before, but I would have been a child at the time, and my hair was darker then.” Like many of his fae traits, the colors of his hair had not been obvious at birth or in his younger years, and had changed over time. He was not certain they were done changing, but the arrival of new shades had slowed even as his other problems had started to meld together. He suspected that humans and the fae did not age at quite the same pace.
Stern Sar seemed intrigued but didn’t indicate if she’d seen Zelli then.
Zelli bowed his head, slightly, then continued on, faltering at the end. “You wrote that you wished for official judgments to be offered. I’m sorry we couldn’t send advance notice of our arrival and I understand that there might be delays as things are readied. I would be pleased to wait in your inn, if you’re willing, and will pay you for the privilege.”
Any Tialttyrin staying with villagers within the valley was to offer to pay for any service done for them. The payment would be politely refused at least once, and then payment would be left anyway, usually for more than any bill would have said. Back when Grandmother had considered regularly taking Zelli with her on these trips, that had been the first lesson.
Stern Sar’s mouth twitched, as if she had heard that speech many times before. But she inclined her head, so Zelli pressed on.
“If you please, could someone see to our horses, and find a room for me and a room for my guard, Tahlen?” He gestured to Tahlen though Mayor Sar seemed to remember him. “Thank you.”
Mayor Sar did not ask why Zelli had only the one guard or why Grandmother had not come herself, though she did grow more serious, dropping some of her smile. “We do have a matter that is bigger than the usual scrapes some get into… and a few people who will never listen to the mayor but have to listen to The Tialttyrin—or at least pretend to,” she confided to Zelli, smiling wider again.
Zelli sighed in relief at her humor and gave her a smile in return. “I understand.” Some of his relatives were much the same.
The mayor directed a look toward the crowd behind them, but called out to someone who came and took the reins of both horses. Then she waved Zelli into the inn and waited for him to step inside before she followed him. If she was insulted that Tahlen stayed between her and Zelli, it didn’t show on her face.
The common room was wide and clean and mostly empty of people, which made sense so early in the day. More people trickled in behind them, which was not a coincidence of timing, but Zelli pretended they weren’t there as best as he could and admired aloud the space of the inn.
Mayor Sar did not preen, but she did ask Zelli if he wanted a private room to wait while his bedroom was prepared, and when he said no, she was obviously proud to show Zelli to her best table. Then she stepped away to bring refreshments.
Zelli had never been to an inn before and had no desire to hide upstairs, even with his growing audience. He pulled his cloak back in order to sit and stared expectantly at Tahlen until Tahlen sat too.
“It’s not fitting,” Tahlen said, close to a complaint.
“Hurts my neck,” Zelli snipped back. “And I am not The Tialttyrin.”
He hadn’t expected an apology or explanation and of course did not get one. What he got was a shamed, “I should have chosen a smaller horse for you.”
Zelli nearly slid his hand over the one Tahlen had on the table. “You chose my favorite, which was thoughtful in its own way. I didn’t think about dismounting in front of strangers. Why should you have?”
He would have said more, but Mayor Sar returned, bringing Zelli a tiny cup. From the size of the cup and the scent in the air, the drink was likely the version of warmth made in this part of the valley. Warmth, to those who were fond of it, headache to those who weren’t, was made from the leftovers of grapes crushed for wine. It was usually clear and sometimes sweet, and was much, much stronger than wine.
Zelli thought of his breakfast of cheese and one apple, but smiled and accepted the glass. He downed it in one swallow, as was expected, and also pretended not to see the people watching eagerly for his reaction. Winegrowers from each region were particular about their wines, but especially about their versions of warmth, which was only brought out for special occasions.
The cellars at the fortress had many varieties from all over the valley and even some of the spicy liquor made over the mountains by the Rossick. Zelli had had warmth before, and this one wasn’t terrible, but he gave Tahlen a warning glance before he bobbed his head to Mayor Sar to thank her. “Delicious. I’ve always enjoyed the variety from here.” His voice was only slightly strained. He hoped Tahlen would not have to walk him to his room so he wouldn’t fall on his face. Mayor Sar gestured to one of the inn’s employees, and they came over quickly with a tray with a bottle and cups on it, and a small plate of nuts and dried fruit.
They were being served wine this time. There was a cup for Tahlen as well though Zelli doubted Tahlen would do more than sip anything poured for him. The mayor sat at their table, also acting as though the other tables in the inn weren’t filling up with people trying to listen in.
“It shouldn’t take long for your room to be ready. Business is slow, of late. No one wants to travel these days unless it’s unavoidable, not even to visit family across the valley.” Mayor Sar paused in pouring their wine to look at Zelli significantly. “If they do travel, they cut through the fields instead of taking the roads. The only ones on the roads are those buying wine for other towns, and they now travel with hired guards.”
Tahlen made a quiet sound of scorn for the idea of hired guards. Zelli patted the air soothingly in his direction while keeping his focus on the mayor.
“Has there been a threat? Any sort of attack?” Zelli lowered his voice. “Have they heard rumors that there might be?”
Mayor Sar hesitated. “Not exactly rumors. Stories about seeing strangers in the fields. But people are afraid and fearful people can imagine things. It’s going to hurt us in a few weeks. Workers will need to move with the harvests but they won’t want to use the roads.”
The mention of the harvest, as Zelli had been taught, meant taking a moment to discuss the weather no matter what else was under discussion. The weather was critical in knowing which grapes would ripen first. “It’s predicted that it will stay sunny and dry for some time yet, but the fog has returned early.”
