Page 13 of In Darkness Forged

How could she tell him that was exactly why she hadn’t come? “I know, Brannic, and you’ve been the best of friends to us since Father left. But you’ve no more ability to pay off ten years of rent than I do.”

His sigh told her she’d hit the mark.

“And you cannot afford to feed and house three helpless women. Not when it would draw Lord Dreichel’s ire. I saw a way to solve the problem, and I took it. I just…” She let out a long breath. “To be fair, I had no idea what I was volunteering for. I thought I would only need to find a mage to fix the wretched thing. I miscalculated, and I never imagined Lord Dreichel would… But I’ll be all right.”

“You’ve always been too stubborn for your own good, and that’s the truth,” Brannic growled. “But you’ll not be going alone, that much is for certain. You’ll need someone skilled with a blade. Someone who knows the roads and can stay alive in the wilds.” He shot her a determined look. “If you can give me but a day, I can find someone to look after the inn and do it my own self.”

Aislin couldn’t help but be warmed by his offer, but she knew it was only his desperation talking. Brannic could not go—not with his leg and his limp and his inn. He was the lifeblood of the village, and everyone knew it. And how could she drag him across that wretched river when he’d lost his leg to the night elves in the first place?

“I’ll be fine, Brannic.” She did her best to project casual confidence. “I only need to go far enough to find someone who can fix the stone. All night elves have magic, do they not? And surely they won’t murder me on sight. I’m just one pathetic human woman—killing me for no reason would be like kicking a puppy.”

Brannic’s glower deepened, though whether his ire was aimed at Lord Dreichel or the night elves, she couldn’t be sure.

“You are likely right, but then again…” Brannic turned to face her and folded his arms across his broad chest.

“If you won’t be talked out of it, you should know that many of our tales are codswallop, but not all. Night elvesaredeadly. You won’t truly understand until they stand in front of you, but they are larger, stronger, faster, and possess magic beyond our ken, even more than their thrice-blasted shapeshifting. But”—his expression grew thoughtful—“they’re no monsters, no matter what the stories might say. They are principled and honorable, and they protect the weakest of their kin, even if they do not always respect them. Perhaps you’ve the right of it, and they won’t harm you when they see you’re no kind of threat.”

No kind of threat… Aislin knew Brannic meant no offense, but she hated that his words were true of her. She was strong enough in body and mind, but she had no skill with weapons and no magic. She was a danger to no one but herself.

“Thank you,” she said soberly. “I appreciate it more than you know. But in truth, I’ve only come to ask if you would find someone to look in on my mother and grandmother.” She hated to ask, but she didn’t fully trust Sandric, and there was no one else. “I’ve left them enough food and firewood for a few days, and filled the cistern, so with luck, you won’t need to do much for a few days. And I swear I’ll repay you for everything.”

She paused for a moment, but decided to tell him of Sandric’s offer. “And the young lord from the manor has promised to look in on them as well, so they’ll likely have no need of anything but a bit of company.”

“Sandric, is it?” Brannic’s eyes sharpened under his lowered brows. “Seems out of character for that one.”

“Feeling a bit of guilt, I suppose,” Aislin said lightly. She could tell Brannic was desperately curious to know how Sandric was involved, but that was not her story to tell. And if the gossip didn’t reach his ears by the end of the day anyway, she would be very much surprised.

“I really should be going,” she said instead. “Would you…”

“Are ye daft?” Brannic growled. “Of course I’ll look after your family. And you’ll not be paying me for it either.” Then he picked up a cloth-wrapped package from the table and shoved it in her direction. “This here is enough food for five days if you’re careful. Plus a few other odds and ends you may find useful. And you’ll be taking one of my horses.”

“Brannic, no,” Aislin said firmly. “I won’t risk your stock across the river.”

“You’ll do it, and no argument,” he said mulishly. “At least so far as the bridge. You’ll make better time, and then you can send it home if you wish.”

“Very well.” She offered Brannic a wan smile. “Only as far as the bridge. Though I’ll never be able to truly thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“’Tis only proper neighborly kindness,” he insisted, turning and limping towards the back door on his way to the stables. “And do be careful of…”

Brannic continued with a stream of advice in a low voice as they descended the steps and made their way past the rubbish heap. Aislin followed, trying to pay attention but anxious to slip away before any more of the villagers awakened to ask questions or stare or make clear with their silence that they never expected her to return.

But both she and Brannic were brought up short by the sight of Marinda striding briskly through the early morning mist, the light of battle in her eyes.

“And when were you planning to tell me of last night’s goings-on?” she demanded of Aislin. “After you’d gone and gotten yourself killed for the sake of yon lord’s pride?” She jerked her head in the direction of the manor, nostrils flared with anger. Clearly, the gossip moved faster than even Aislin had anticipated.

“I offered to make fair payment for a debt,” Aislin said wearily, not wanting to belabor the point any longer. “’Tis a truth that we’ve lived rent-free on his lordship’s land and forbearance for ten years. We’ve no claim on his kindness, and he is within his rights to demand payment.”

“In blood?” Marinda snapped. “What manner of lord accepts such an offer? Or makes such a demand?”

“Please.” Aislin gripped the end of her braid in one hand and tried to remind herself that both Brannic and Marinda spoke out of love. They had no idea that their protests only made her task more difficult. She was already worried enough without their fussing. “Can’t you see I’ve no choice but to try? You know as well as I that it would require some extraordinary price to win us the right to stay in our home. I had no way to pay, so when I saw a chance, I grasped it. And now, whatever the cost, I must see it through, or…” She found that she could not even speak her fears aloud.

Marinda’s mouth snapped shut as if recognizing that words were no longer enough. But then she took Aislin’s hand, opened her fingers, and pressed something firmly into her palm before stepping back. “A compass,” she said briefly, when Aislin peered at what proved to be a tiny wooden box. “But it’s been enchanted to always show you the way home—in case you lose your way in that accursed forest.”

“Thank you.” Aislin nodded gratefully, tucking the compass safely into her pack. She treasured the gift for the thought that accompanied it, but it brought her little comfort. Not when it was her very home that she was trying to save. If she was lost, then she would have failed, and she would have no home to return to.

“And Alaric will accompany you to the bridge.”

Who?