Fourteen

He was finishing up getting dressed when a knock came at the door. He shared a look with Sinn. They were leaving within minutes, had already checked out, weren't expecting food or for Wintry to stop by, and they were going to get the horses at the stable. So who in the world would be knocking at their hotel door?

Sinn motioned him to stay put, at which Ninos rolled his eyes but obeyed.

"Hello," said a soft, familiar voice. "I am sorry to intrude on you so early. I was hoping to speak with Master Ninos? I will not take up much of your time."

"Let her in," he said, managing to sound far more composed than he felt.

"Mistress Kelka," he said crossing the room to her. "What are you doing here?"

"Ninos! Oh, my boy, I am so sorry," she said, removing the veil that covered her face and handing it to Sinn as he held out his hands for it. "Wintry said I should leave you in peace, and of course I'll go if you want. But I felt you of all people deserved an apology and I wanted to make it. I was afraid you'd leave town again before I could. I am sorry, I am so so sorry that my son did that to you, hurt you not once but twice."

"It's not your fault, you have nothing to apologize for," he said, taking her trembling hands.

Because she didn't. Kelka was a good woman and a good mother. He'd been to her home countless times for meals and holidays. She was the kind of mother he'd always secretly wished he'd had, or at least his mother was, instead of a mother who barely wrote him any letters and treated him like a stranger rather than her son, all because they had chosen to send him away.

"He is my son, I was responsible for his upbringing, for the fact he turned out—"

"No," Sinn said. "Trust me when I tell you this, Mistress." She turned to him, eyes widening slightly as she really took him in, and who could blame her? His heavy bias aside, Sinn really was breathtaking to behold. "All the love and care and hard work in the world cannot fix that some people are born with rotten hearts. I met your son, however briefly, and his heart was full of poison. Not even a loving, caring mother like yourself could ever cure that. If anything, your efforts prevented much worse. Raised by someone who did not care, who mistreated him, neglected him, he would have started killing much, much sooner. I have seen it happen more times than I care to count in my travels. Be assured you did everything you could, but not even a mountain can stop the wind from blowing."

She sniffled. "Thank you, your kindness and wisdom are appreciated. I am afraid everyone around town—but this isn't about me, I apologize. I came here to say I am sorry, this is about you, Ninos. The problems of an old lady are not your concern. Please know I am devastated this has happened, that he did that to Professor Brandor, to you…and now apparently to others. I hope you are able to be happy, and leave all this behind, wherever you go next."

"Thank you," Ninos replied. "I never held anything against you, and certainly did not think you owed me any apology. I am sorry for the pain and hurt he has caused you and your family. That is probably the deepest betrayal of all. I hope you can be well—and safe."

"We're moving. It's the responsible thing to do, and better for our own health and well-being. Be well, dear boy. If I never see you again, live a long and happy life."

"Be well yourself, and I hope you find peace," Ninos replied, and hugged her tight before Sinn escorted her out.

Ninos took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then resumed getting the last-minute packing finished. By the time he was done, Sinn had returned. "Was she all right?"

"She seemed heartened. I cannot imagine the weight she carries. Some parents are very much responsible for how their children turn out. Others are not. Most often, the matter is complicated. Are you ready?"

"Let's go get our horses." Ninos slung his satchel, the one gifted to him by Wintry, over his chest and followed him back out and down to the street. He slid his right arm through Sinn's, his left one bare as always, the plants thrumming slightly at their first touch of sunlight for the day. It was sort of bittersweet how excited the ghost ivy got even though it wasn't able to absorb the sunlight. Maybe it could now though, after a fashion, with him and the begonias to help.

Tarsok was waiting for them in the yard when they arrived, four horses saddled and ready, including all their equipment and supplies that they'd had sent on to save time. Ninos handed over money for the extra trouble. "Thank you again, for always being so kind and helpful."

"You take good care of horses, and that's all I need to know about a person. They're ready and eager to be on their way. If you're inclined, I wouldn't mind a letter when you reach your destination, to know how you and your steeds are faring."

"I would be honored to do so. Say farewell, faithful steeds, it's time to be on our way."

After they left Tarsok, they stopped only for breakfast, a final treat as they hit the road.

Thankfully, the weather was lovely and, after they were an hour or two out of the city, the road clear. As beginnings went, they could not have asked for better.

When they were alone on the road, Sinn still traveled as a raven. He genuinely enjoyed the form—and the mice—and was still vehement about keeping watch and it was hard to argue against a bird for lookout. As they drew closer to people, though, he changed to human form and rode. He and Torch got on like they'd been together their whole lives, the horse just as mischievous as the spirit, giving Ninos absolutely no peace. Torch's favorite game was to steal whatever he was wearing—scarf, hat, wrap, whatever he could easily snatch off and scamper away with.

He was going to leave them both tied up to a tree if they didn't quit it.

The first few days went smoothly. No bad weather, no troublesome fellow travelers or brigands. Just easy traveling, quiet breaks, and nights not getting nearly as much sleep as they probably should.

It was on the eighth day, with storm clouds in the distance but drawing ever close, that things took a turn.

Sinn landed heavily on his shoulders. Problem ahead. Halted caravan, they seem in distress. Belongings scattered. Think they must have been attacked, raided.

"Oh, good. More brigands. I'll stop here, go ahead and see if you can't get more details so we're prepared when we reach them, maybe gain us an element of surprise should the brigands still be lurking. Or whatever the problem actually is." Thieves were the most likely, though. On roads well-traveled, there were always thieves.

He dismounted and left the horses to relax while they waited, munching on some travel mix and refilling their waterskins at a public well, which were scattered mostly regularly along the major roads.

By the time he finished his snack, Sinn had returned, shifting as he dropped to the ground. "They were raided by a band of thieves all right. Twelve of them total, more than the caravan could handle. The caravan is twenty strong, but eight of them are children, two are pregnant women, so effectively ten ordinary people against twelve experienced brigands. They stood no chance, not without dying, and no possessions are worth lives."

"Can you find the brigands?"

Sinn grinned in that pure mischief way of his. "They're in an old hunting cabin about nine paters southeast of the caravan. Shouldn't take us more than an hour to reach them with you on Strider. We can help the caravan get settled for the night, leave the other horses and equipment with them, and go deal with the thieves."

"Good plan."

Sinn mounted Torch and they rode off, traveling carefully on the chance of outliers, but reached the caravan without trouble.

All the able adults of the group immediately stood ready for a fight—and relaxed as they took in Sinn and Ninos. "Be careful, travelers. A large group of bandits just looted us, they'll make short work of the pair of you."

"Can we help you in any way?" Ninos asked as he dismounted. "What did they take?"

"Our food," a woman said bitterly. "We have enough left to feed the children for a couple of days, but we won't make it to the next town on what we have left and there are no farms to trade with anywhere nearby. Clothes, other personal items, probably to sell. Worst of all, our horses. We'll have to abandon the carts without them."

"Plus the goods we were going to sell, wool and other goods from our farms," said the man standing beside her. "We're from the west, we go to the market in Hacher every nine months. Nothing to sell now, and no way to get home or to Hacher on what we have."

"Don't worry about that for now," Sinn said. "Let's get everyone comfortably settled for the night. We have food enough to help everyone and two people can hunt and forage more easily than twenty."

"You don't have to help us…" another man said, hopeful but wary.

"We've been assaulted by bandits before. They shot me with an arrow that knocked me from my horse, and while I was on the ground disoriented and in pain, kicked me multiple times before stealing everything I had. I am happy to help, and I'm glad nobody was seriously hurt."

"Mercy of the divine," one of the pregnant women said. "I can't believe you're alive."

Ninos smiled and nodded his head at Sinn. "My partner got me back on my feet. I'd be quite lost without him. Now let's see about food, hmm? That usually makes everyone feel better." He and Sinn got their bags unloaded, and the others soon came to help, taking stock of all the food and planning out a meal for the night and the morning.

"Sit, sit," one of the women told him, urging him to sit on a cushion someone had brought out, one of the few things missed by the bandits, he supposed. Why hadn't he ever thought of packing cushions? It wouldn't even be any significant additional weight for the horses. Ah, well.

She gave him a cup of tea and then sat beside him, putting her sword near to hand. "We're grateful for the help."

"I'm happy that we came at the right time." He turned the talk to idle chatter then, hoping to keep their minds off the matter as much as possible. By the time dinner was ready, exhaustion was winning out, and by the time the dishes were done and packed away for the night everyone but the man taking first watch was asleep.

Sinn rose, finishing his cup of tea. "Shall we to work, darling?"

"Yes, lets."

The man on watch frowned. "Where are you going?"

"To deal with the bandits. We'll be back in a few hours."

"That's reckless nonsense."

Sinn smiled, every bit the scheming, troublemaking raven. "Not when you have a few tricks up your sleeve."

"Please be at ease," Ninos said. "We have experience with this sort of thing."

The man's gaze fell to his arm, where the white ivy caught the moonlight and almost seemed to glow. "You're some sort of mage, aren't you? You've kept it lowkey this whole time, but I don't know anyone else who could just walk around with a living plant on his arm."

"A sylvan mage yes, which gives me an advantage the bandits can't hope to match, nevermind all of Sinn's skills. We'll be back. Be well."

He swung into the saddle, Strider making soft noises of approval at a late-night adventure. Nearby, Torch seemed to sulk a bit, but one horse would be better than two in this case, especially since the moment they were well into the woods Sinn reassumed his raven form.

This way.

As expected, it took them about an hour to reach the old hunting cabin. The building was barely standing upright, even in the weak light of torches it was easy to see that one or two good storms would finish the job.

Horses were everywhere, poorly secured for the night, some belonging to the bandits but others clearly from the caravan. The torches were at the front door and one at the back door. Unusual for a cabin like that to have multiple exits, usually they had one door, mostly to help keep it warm in cold months. The sole window had been covered up with boards from the inside, a strange thing to do when surely visibility was so important.

Worked to their favor, though, so he wasn't going to complain.

Wait here, let me get a closer look.

All right.

He waited with Strider at the tree line, taking in all he could, listening to the low, irritated hum of the immediate forest. It didn't like the bandits either, which was interesting. He'd never noticed the forest showing any sort of interest, one way or another, in its various visitors. Then again, he'd only been doing this whole fancy talk to the forest thing for a few months, and not often in those months.

This is bad, Sinn said. It is genuinely surprising they did not simply slaughter the caravan. There is evidence here of people they did kill, and the number is not small. I think I should handle this.

Ninos had never heard him so grim and somber, not even when talking about his heartbreaking past. You want to kill them.

I am going to kill them. The next travelers they assault might not be as lucky as the caravan. They probably would have tried to kill us. I cannot in good conscience take that risk. These men aren't like the ones we dealt with before. That lot was mean but not stupid enough to kill, and frankly the way you scared them to death with those vines probably set a few of them on a wiser path. This lot is a lost cause. All you can do with spoiled meat is get rid of it.

Ninos breathed in and let it out slowly. Then get rid of it. Do you want help?

No. I will not put the burden of murder upon you.

I'm complicit.

That's still better than doing the deed directly. I'll be out shortly.

All right. Be careful.

He heard one single short, sharp scream, before Sinn came walking out of the cabin several minutes later. Only the grim set of his features gave away the grisly work he'd done. There wasn't even a splash of blood on him.

"Sadly, killing neatly isn't hard when you know what you're doing, and unfortunately this isn't even close to the first time I've killed people. Let's take these horses and use them to load up everything, we can make a little caravan of our own to get everything back where it belongs.

"Sounds good."

"A lot of it is piled up behind the cabin. Everything inside, I'll bring out and put with the rest."

"I'll get the horses strung together and start loading them up." Since there was no longer any need for subterfuge, he cast out several large, bright lights so they could work without difficulty. The forest seemed happier with the brigands dead, which was a depressing statement on just how awful they had been.

It took them a few hours to get everything sorted, evenly divided between all the horses, and secured, but eventually, finally, they began the return to camp.

The lookout and two others were awake, speaking quietly by the fire, when they came out of the woods leading the long train of horses.

One of them dropped the tea she was holding as they came into view. "Mercy of the divine!" She ran over to them, the others close on her heels. "Heth said you went to face the bandits, we were discussing if it was even possible to go help you, but here you are with…" She looked near to tears as she took in the many horses, all packed to their comfortable limit. "With everything and more."

"The bandits were dealt with," Sinn said. "We retrieved everything that was there. Anything you don't need, including the spare horses, can be sold to make up for any losses due to damage. We took what we needed to replace our food stores, but we've no need of any of the rest."

The 'rest' included jewels and money they must have taken from other travelers, other valuables that would see the caravan well. If it was possible to return any of it to the proper owners, he would, but if they hadn't been killed then they could be anywhere in the country—or world—by this point.

"We can't thank you enough," said the man who'd been on watch when they'd left. "How did you manage it?"

"They were drunk and asleep. The work went quickly," Sinn said shortly. "They'll not be bothering anyone else."

"Good," said the second woman. "Get some rest, please. We'll take care of the rest, including your handsome fellow here." She stroked Strider's nose.

"Thank you." Going to their bedrolls, laid out together as had immediately become their habit, Ninos stripped off most of his layers before crawling beneath the blankets. Sinn joined him moments later, and Ninos had barely told him goodnight before he was dropping into sleep.

The most distinctive sound he heard on waking was children laughing. When they'd arrived, it had been to silence outside of a few people softly crying. The children had all been pale, wide eyed, and eerily quiet.

Now they were running around playing, shrieking and laughing, and if there was a more telling sign that everything was better, he could not imagine it. Smiling, he disentangled himself from Sinn and sat up. The camp was bustling, and everyone looked the complete opposite of when they'd gone to bed. A couple of them were even singing as they worked. The empty, broken carts had been repaired and loaded up, and all the horses that weren't going to be ridden or used to pull the carts had been properly tethered together for the journey.

Truly depressing the difference killing a group of scoundrels makes.

They should have made better choices, Sinn said as he climbed out of bed and started putting his perpetually disordered hair into something slightly less chaotic.

"Good morning!" one of the women said, noticing they were awake. "You two were quite busy in the night. We cannot thank you enough for all you've done. Truly. Whatever we can do to repay, we will."

"There's nothing to repay," Ninos said. "Brigands deserve no kindness, and I have a very particular, bitter dislike of them. That lot was nastier than usual. If we had come further behind, when you were already gone, they would have killed us just for the sport. I hope the rest of your travels are more peaceful."

"Where are you headed?"

"To Goldfell and then eventually on to Corlock."

"Would you like to travel with us as far as Norlek, then?"

Ninos glanced at Sinn, who smiled, before turning back to her. "We would love to."

"Splendid!" the woman beamed. "Get washed up, and by the time you're back I'll have breakfast ready."