“This blade is useless to me. Do not know how to use. Thank you, but…. have looked for scimitar, even sabre would do, though not so well. But all swords are sold to army, and blade-smiths have no time to forge special. I… I will have my brother get one for me when see him next.”

   “And when will that be?”

   She shrugged.

   He took her hand. “No, that is not good enough. You said yourself that you might have stood a better chance in the warehouse if you had had a sword. I do agree that if you have never used a short sword, your knowledge of the scimitar will hurt you. But you cannot go about, especially not at night as you must, without something. There are monsters in the streets. I’ve been hearing from the servants here that almost every night, something strange is reported, some mythical creature or well-known monster. It is more dangerous than ever out there.”

   “But is nothing to be done….” she protested.

   “Not true,” he said. He set the sword aside and wrapped his arms around her. “I know someone. He… collects things. The more unusual, the more he likes it. An exotic blade like a scimitar is something he just might have. Would you wait at least until I can set up a meeting?”

   She shook her head. “Have errands to run and boy to teach fiddle. Is daylight,” she said consolingly. “Is not so dangerous now.”

   He thought for a moment and decided not to say anything about the fireballs or the warehouse incident that nearly killed her occurring in full daylight. She knew that fact as well as he did. “When will you be done with Dane?” he asked.

   “Should start just after lunch is over and inn quiet. Maybe hour or so.”

   “I’ll meet you there. Then, you and I will go to my friend’s and find you a scimitar. Do you have anything unusual to trade for one? If you don’t, I might.”

   She smiled, thanked him for the offer. “I think can find something.” She slid off his lap. “Now, be good boy. Will see you then,” she said, giving him a deep kiss.

   Landros watched her gather her things and head out the door. Sighing, he went back to his armor and tried to rub her from his mind for the time being.

​

   It felt good to finally be out and about. She took her time, strolling towards the temple mostly oblivious to her surroundings and the darker moods around her. Smiling at people, she hummed a soft little tune she had been tinkering with off and on for a year or more; did not even notice the strange looks she received for her cheerfulness.

   The temple was her first stop. She went into the Maiden’s House and asked the first person she saw where she might find Sister Rue. She was politely asked to wait. Thankfully, Rue was not too long in coming. She looked much more rested than she had the last time Lark had seen her. They hugged fondly.

   “How are you feeling, dear?” Rue asked, sitting beside her.

   “Better, many thanks to you and Landros.” She reached down into her pack. “Brought book back. Thank you. Is wonderful. Many of stories had not heard before.”

   Rue took the volume, smiling, caressed the leather cover fondly. “My mother gave this to me when I told her I planned to enter the priesthood.”

   Lark laughed, “Book of love stories is hardly gift for one taking vow of chastity.”

   Rue nodded wryly. “I think that was the point. My mother had ‘plans’ for me in the marriage department. She was trying to talk me out of it.”

   “I see she failed,” she commented.

   “Good thing, too. The man she wanted me to marry has, well… the wife he did take has been here several times already for ‘household’ injuries. I somehow doubt that she is that clumsy,” Rue said quietly. She took a deep breath, brushing all the gloom aside. “So much for true love, eh? No, I am quite happy here. This is where I belong. And if the Maiden does choose to send me a lover, then I will simply move next door. I hope you enjoyed the book?”

   “Yes. Is well-read, I notice.”

   “That it is,” she mused fondly.

   “Was wondering,” Lark began. “Is possible to see Keltree?”

   The priestess nodded. “Certainly, and I am sure he would love to see you, but he has gone to his brother’s house. Tell you what, I am going to stop by tomorrow. I go every few days just to make sure he’s not doing anything stupid and is actually resting. Why don’t you meet me here after noon tomorrow, and I’ll take you with me?”

   “Oh, would love that! Have been wondering how had fared.” She got up and shouldered her pack, only slightly lighter for the lack of the book. “Oh, has been any luck discovering who was other man with Ebastion and Lulelani?”

   Rue shook her head silently.

   Lark heaved a sigh. “This bothers Landros. Which bothers me. Is obsessed with this; that and hooded person.” She snapped quickly back into her cheerful mode and again gave the half-elven woman a hug. “See you tomorrow noon!”

   Rue sat back and watched the Romeri girl practically bounce out of the temple. “Too much energy in that girl,” she breathed. “Could certainly use some of that vivaciousness around here,” she added, getting up and moving back to her rounds of patients.

 

   Landros heard the doorknob turn and looked up, hoping to see Lark breezing back in. The black-clad figure of his brother banished that hope, and he sullenly went back to work.

   “I am surprised to see you actually here, brother,” Portholus said. “I had expected you to be out and about on some secret mission again.”

   “Not this time.” He set his armor aside and began putting his tools away. “Where have you been the last few days?”

   “Oh, here and there,” he mused evasively. “You know me.” He slipped into the watercloset for a few minutes.

   Landros went to the desk, grabbed a piece of paper, and jotted a quick note to his friend that he would be stopping by the shop that afternoon looking for a special item. He blew on the paper until the ink dried and folded it carefully. Tucking it into his pocket, he began gathering his things together, preparing to pay a visit to Colwyn to ask a few questions that had occurred to him.

   He saw his brother leaning against the door frame with his brush in one hand, pulling long black hairs from it with the other. He looked pointedly up at him, asking the question without saying a word.

   Landros crossed over, took the tool from him, and put it back where it belonged. He wordlessly went back to packing.

   Portholus continued to stand there, smirking in his irritating way, while his brother did his best to ignore him.

   “So, why is there long, silky, black hair in your brush?”

   “Maybe because she borrowed it while she was here,” he answered, trying to keep his temper in check. “I did not know you were so concerned about my grooming habits.” He did not like being teased about Lark, especially by his little brother.

   “She? No name, just ‘she’?” he asked, moving to the fireplace where he tossed the hairs.

   “I am not like you, little brother. I don’t keep company with half the ladies in this town at once,” he said curtly.

   “This the Gypsy girl?” Scraps wandered in from the bedroom, saw Portholus, and ran over. “Hello to you too, little one,” he said as the raccoon leaped into his arms, searching his vest for treats. “I am sorry, nothing for you today,” he said. The raccoon sulked and jumped to the couch. He noticed Landros pointedly ignoring his question, so he tried a different tack. “Tell me about this girl.”

   “There is nothing to tell about this lady,” he answered shortly, folding the blanket up and putting it into his bag.

   Of course, he would not leave the subject there. “There has to be something to tell. She was here for several days, was she not?”

   “She was hurt,” he retorted. “I was hurt. We needed rest. She got it here. Again, there is nothing to tell.”

   Portholus smirked, amused by his brother’s reluctance to discuss this mystery woman. “Maybe I should ask her?”

   Landros rounded on him, “No,” he snapped. “You will not go anywhere near her! Do you understand me?!”

   Portholus looked deep into his brother’s eyes, realization flickering across his own. He grinned in disbelief. “You’re afraid I’m going to take her from you!”

   “No,” he denied, growling, “You heard what I said. You are not to go anywhere near her!”

   His face softened. “You really are afraid.”

   Landros looked away, unable to look into his brother’s face and lie to him, lie to himself. “Just stay away from her,” he said quietly.

   Portholus stared at his brother, incredulous. “You really think that I would take her from you?”

  He did not even look up. “Yes.” He paused for a moment, staring at the shirt in his hands before shoving it into his bag. “You have never had a problem with the ladies. Most of them fall over themselves and each other to get to know you. Yes, I have noticed it and have envied it. For some reason, this one has chosen me, and I do not want that ruined in any way. Just... Just leave this one be.”

   Portholus stopped him, made him look at him so that he could see the truth in his eyes. “I would never do that to you. She obviously means something to you. What, I don’t know and I don’t think you know either. But you have nothing to worry about, not from me. Why would I want to destroy what little I have left?”

   He sighed, moved away. “Just leave her be. For me,” he said weakly. He picked up his pack and hefted it to his right shoulder, as his left was still sore. “I have to go; I’ve got people to meet and things to do. Try and stay out of trouble, will you? Scraps, you coming?”

   The raccoon hopped off the sofa and waddled across the floor, scrambling up his leg and into the pack on his shoulder.

   “Landros,” Portholus called. His brother looked back. “Just be careful with these humans.”

   “Don’t forget to lock the door,” he said as he left.

   He had mixed feelings about his brother and Lark, and needed time to sort them out. His feelings for her had to be strong to pit him against his brother. He did not want to have to choose between them and did not know if he could.