Mage Slave
Page 61

 C.L. Wilson

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Mara glanced around uneasily. There were many ears around, and many things the wrong words could give away. Aven was sure could feel Regin somewhere watching. The old man did not miss a thing. Aven would have to make sure that Regin didn’t get too alarmed; he wasn’t sure what havoc this mage could cause, but they would probably all be gone quickly enough. And so be it. The sooner they were away from these kind folks, the better.
“Don’t attract attention,” Mara snapped. “Which direction did the Devoted take us?”
“A bit farther south than you had intended if I recall correctly, but we are about a day and a half’s ride from home. The horses are well rested. We can ride the whole way, no need to make camp.”
She frowned at him. “This is my mission, I’ll decide how long we ride.”
“If we ride the whole way, you can rub it in their faces that you didn’t even need me. Plus we’ll be home that much sooner.” His voice had a friendly and affectionate turn, but it was manipulative underneath. There was more, always more, something hidden. Perhaps there was coin in it for him? “Besides, she grows anxious. And I do not relish camping on our own in our land; too many things can happen.”
And now he knew for sure that that was where they were headed. He’d assumed so all along… but now he finally knew.
“We’ll see. I will not change my mission or jeopardize it because you have a distaste for camping.” Mara tuned to Aven. “Make ready to leave,” she said. “Pack your things.” The softness in her voice had faded. She was the same commanding woman he’d met among the falling yellow leaves, sitting naked in the forests beneath Estun. He liked that woman just as much. And it was good if that’s what this mage expected. She is better at hiding what is between us than I am, he thought.
Or perhaps there was less for her to hide?
He brushed the thought aside. “The Devoted took everything,” he replied. “There’s very little to make ready. But we must thank and say farewell to our hosts.”
Mara nodded. “Come with me. Sorin, go wait by the horses.” And now Aven had a name for the other mage as well. Sorin bowed the slightest bit and headed obediently toward the horses.
Mara’s eyes met his for a moment, vaguely apologetic.
He smiled the tiniest bit, his only way to convey forgiveness. “He’s over there,” he said, gesturing toward the fire where Regin sat, his back to them.
Regin stood as he heard them approaching and smiled his broad, old smile. Aven noticed the little boy was across the other side of the fire ring; perhaps he could say goodbye to him as well.
“It’s time for us to take our leave,” Mara said, her tone again different, regal, gracious. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. It has been a pleasure.”
“It was the least we could do. Thank you for healing Galen; it was truly a feat that cannot ever be repaid.”
The boy—Galen, apparently—perked up at his name. Aven inclined his head with a quick jerk, motioning to him to join them. Galen smiled and scampered to their sides. Aven squatted down to look him in the eye.
“I didn’t know your name was Galen.”
“Now you do,” he said wryly.
Aven grinned. “My name is Aven. It’s been an honor to meet you.” He held his hand out and shook the boy’s hand, and while he did, he whispered, “I asked her, and she said she can heal just about anything.”
“Really?” the boy whispered back.
“Anything,” Aven replied, “although not right now because we have to leave.”
Aven stood. Galen turned to Mara and said, “Thank you, lady.”
She smiled and put a hand on his shoulder for a moment. Was there sadness in her eyes? She hated to leave this place, he thought. But he could be imagining it.
“Regin, do you need help with our tents? Can we pack them up or clean them for you?” he asked, hoping Sorin could not hear and Mara would not mind.
“No, no worries, friends. We will stay a few days longer, someone will find a night in them. No need to pack them up yet.”
They all stood for a moment, wistful, wishing it could go on a little longer. Now he fully understood the sadness Mara felt when he’d quipped that perhaps they could just hide away as chipmunks forever. Indeed, they could not.
Their fates awaited them.
Mara reached out her hand and shook Regin’s. Aven followed.
“If you ever run into us again,” Regin added, “you are always welcome in our ranks.”
“And if you are ever near Estun, stop by and say hello,” Aven added, a bit spitefully as they strode away, back to the horses. Mara glared at him a little but only mildly. Surely, she did not know if Aven was a common name in Akaria or if many people or few worked in Estun.
Of course, many did. But Aven was not a common name. He felt he owed that much to Regin, that he know some of the truth after all he’d done for them. The comment did not look lost on the old man, either; he gazed after the two mages with a new intensity, as if now he knew there was a puzzle before him and he struggled to solve it before the pieces rode away.
How could a mage slave from Kavanar and perhaps the prince of Akaria come to be traveling together at all, let alone through Regin’s neck of the woods? It was quite a mystery.
But, of course, Regin had all the information he was going to have. Aven mounted his gray mare and stroked her charcoal mane in greeting.
And they were off again.
“Keep to the Way,” Regin called after them. “And may Anara watch over you.”
Was that a formal blessing or merely a wish from an old man to a young one? Well, he was pretty sure he would need both, wherever they were going. Whatever was waiting for him, it wouldn’t be long now before he was staring at his destiny, face to face.
 
They rode straight till nearly nightfall, with only the slightest breaks. Sorin had bread and cheese in his bags, which he shared when they first got on the road and later, around midday. They passed a wine flagon from time to time.
They talked very little.
The air mage seemed to be enjoying the scenery. Mara looked dark and withdrawn. Aven tried to look bored and not look at Mara. But at times he caught himself studying her, and he thought the other mage might have noticed. How long could you look at trees and a mare’s neck without glancing around, though?