Chapter 25: Safe Now

Chapter 25: Safe Now

Eli lazed on his bunk with his eyes closed, watching the main room of the clinic with one spark while the other drifted just outside his alcove's window.

He listened through that one, more than he looked. Hearing the sounds around the clinic. The chatter of servants, the whinny of horses. The rattle of carts, the cluck of chickens. A flirtatious laugh and noises he couldn't quite identify: a rattle, a thunk.

He felt the warm sun through the spark, then the coolness of the shade under the eaves. He felt the breeze swirling and ... was that the scent of baking bread?

The physician and courtier appeared in the main room, speaking in hushed voices. Not from secrecy, he didn't think, just to keep from bothering the patients. He moved the spark in the clinic a little closer to listen. He still couldn't send the sparks farther than a couple of yard, but they seemed to have sharp senses, so he could hear--and of course see--a good distance.

"... momentarily ..." The courtier sniffed. "You ... wearing that?"

"This is what I wear," the physician said. "Rest assured that my robes will not offend the marquis."

"... dress uniform?"

He physician snorted. "His lordship ... concerned with my skills than my fashion ..."

"... coming now. On the way. At least ... a fresh one."

Eli stood and moved to the head of his bed. 'Coming now?' The marquis was on the way. Okay, stay focused and stay calm. He pulled the rondel dagger from the mattress. He tucked it into the right sleeve of his clinic robe, a baggy shapeless affair. Then he reconsidered, and switched to the left sleeve, to attack from the less-common side.

He practiced slipping the grip down the sleeve into his palm. The movement still wasn't smooth. He'd noticed that last night, so he'd twitched occasionally in the physician's presence, so his jerky motions wouldn't surprise anyone.

Then he left his alcove and wandered toward the window in the main room.

"Where is he going?" the courtier asked, behind him.

"He likes the view."

Which wasn't wrong, though Eli was mostly watching through the sparks, awaiting the Marquis's arrival.

"Who cares what a commoner likes," the courtier sniffed. "Get him back in bed. His lordship is making a bedside visit not a blessdamned windowside visit."

"The Marquis won't care," the physician said.

"Look at him." The courtier frowned at Eli. "Did he just twitch?"

"You spend a month in the troll mountains, see if you startle now and again."

"At least tell me he knows how to bow. You! Soldier!"

Eli turned--and twitched.

"By the Dreamers," the courtier muttered. "Do you know how to bow?"

"Yes," Eli said.

"Don't simper, Quiricas."

"In that case, m'lord, you're absolutely correct--and should hang your head in shame."

The courtier gasped but the marquis laughed. "We'll have you to the Keep for dinner soon. You still fond of orange and pork pudding?"

"I still loathe it, my lord."

"And rightly so!" the marquis said. "Now, where is this brave fellow? I'll see him first, then the others. We still haven't pinned a name on him?"

"Not yet. Perhaps your lordship will recognize him. He's, uh, there, by the window." The physician lowered his voice, but a spark heard. "And quite addled."

The guards waited by the door while the physician and marquis continued to talk, but both courtiers approached Eli.

"His lordship is here," the one from earlier told him.

Eli kept looking through the window.

"You!" the courtier said. "Beard-face! Turn around."

Eli twitched.

The other courtier, a woman--girl, really, in fancy hose and a floofy jacket--touched Eli's elbow.

"Please," she said, and tugged at him gently.

He turned.

"Now kneel, like this, watch me." The courtier knelt. "On your knees, like so."

"Yes," Eli said.

"Don't be such a stick in the mud, Clarence," the Marquis called, crossing the room with his guards. "He's a wounded soldier, there's no reason to stand on ceremony. Let me look at you, lad."

Eli gave a shudder and shifted the nearer sparks toward the closer guard's ear. He didn't lift his head to look at the Marquis, though. He wasn't concerned about being recognized: the Marquis hadn't looked him in the face when he'd killed the Head Clark, and Eli looked different now. Halo, even without the beard, he stood taller and stronger and less tentative.

Still, he didn't want anyone to see the murder in his eyes.

"You were lost a long time," the Marquis told Eli, his voice gentle. "We don't even know if it was one month or two."

Still looking at his feet, Eli crossed his arms, putting his hands inside his sleeves as if hugging himself, and closed his right palm around the dagger's hilt.

"But you're home now," the Marquis continued. "You're safe now, and once we--"

The spark shot into the guard's ear--and without raising his head, without using his eyes, Eli pulled the dagger from his sleeve and struck.