“Thank you,” said the second outguard, the one with the rich voice. “We’ll just see to our horses.”
Tahlen eased back up onto one of the stone seats without taking his attention from the outguards and whispered to Zelli, “Do not blindly trust them. The Outguard serve the throne and we don’t even know who’s on it.”
Zelli nodded, also keeping his attention on the two, who moved smoothly around one other. The outguards had a moment of intense staring between them, as if something were silently being argued, and then both of them removed their swords. They carried the swords within their bundles of blankets and food when they returned to the fire.
A gesture Zelli appreciated, even if Tahlen likely didn’t. He suspected the second outguard, the one with curly black hair and a dark complexion, had suggested it. The other one, taller, paler, with deep red hair, had yet to smile. The darker one had a scar down one side of his face that appeared to still be healing and was probably a fright in the light of day. That and their size must have sent more than one villager into a panic. It was no wonder the two outguards were cautious now or that they’d gotten lost. No one had probably wanted to talk to them to give them directions.
Once the scar had healed all the way, the second outguard would turn heads for a different reason. Both of them were exceedingly well-made, really. Separately, the people in the valley might have responded to them with more openness. But together, they were a sight both appealing and alarming. Zelli stared openly.
Other than their armor—a personal choice for most guards, Zelli had learned—they wore nothing else distinctive, save one plain silver metal ear cuff on the ear of the smaller one.
Smaller. Zelli nearly laughed. He was grateful they sat across the fire or he would have had to tilt his head up to talk to them.
They dropped blanket rolls and some bundles onto the ground with their weapons, and then made identical groans of exhaustion. They were putting on a nice show of being tired and harmless but they both looked as if they had seen fighting many times in their lives and could face more. Like Tahlen would have if he hadn’t come to the fortress of the Tialttyrin and been offered some peace and comfort.
Zelli realized he was leaning closer to Tahlen and glanced over to him. He was unsurprised to see Tahlen’s face was impassive. He looked back at their Outguard visitors. They had a few years on Tahlen and, the larger one at least would stand taller. Tahlen had reached the age where he would not gain any more height, but he would gain bulk over time as these two had. That was the way of things for most, and with guards the bulk became even more muscle unless they retired.
Zelli would not object to Tahlen growing thicker if Tahlen wished it, but hoped Tahlen would never grow so battle-ready. He was filled with sorrow at even the idea.
But he realized Tahlen was speaking and he yanked himself back into the conversation in time to catch the end of an introduction. The second outguard, with the ear cuff, was named Arden. Zelli had missed the name of the other one.
The unnamed one politely offered Tahlen and Zelli some of their food, dried meats along with oat and nut cakes made for those traveling long distances. Zelli and Tahlen politely refused, as was the tradition, but Zelli would have refused the cakes anyway; they tended to be dry.
Zelli let them eat, remembering to finally stow his comb as Tahlen stiffly informed the outguards of the way they ought to travel in the morning.
“There are two main roads, all the way up and down the valley,” Zelli jumped in. Roads that were straightforward to follow unless the fog was extremely dense or two outguards were feeling nosy. But he supposed it was part of their job to be nosy.
“Roads like that are good for trading, bad for defense,” the larger one commented, not in a grunt. Zelli frowned since he wasn’t sure if it was meant as criticism or in praise of their so-far peaceful valley.
“Has the current ruler sent you out here for records?” he asked. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen any outguards.”
The larger one turned to look at Zelli, then paused. Zelli couldn’t tell what color the man’s eyes were in the firelight. Whatever the color, they dipped down to Zelli’s side where Zelli had apparently reached out for Tahlen, then came back up to Zelli’s face.
“Reckon I seem a brute,” the larger said, his grunt changing to something clearer. “And I am. But if I look worse, it’s been a hard ride over the mountains from the lands of the Rossick, with more folk running from us then inclined to give directions or share some food. Though I suspect they’d regard all strangers with worry and I shouldn’t take it personally.”
“It has not been a restful journey,” Arden agreed. “There have been fewer places to stop, even for outguards. People are frightened and we don’t want to frighten them more.”
The other one looked between Tahlen and Zelli again. “Just you two out here?” he asked with clear disapproval, only to seem startled and raise his hands innocently when Zelli lifted his chin. “Not that your guard isn’t more than enough from the look of him, little one. But things are not what they once were.”
“He means the country outside this lovely valley has remembered this lovely valley exists,” Arden interjected, the diplomatic half of the pair. “We remembered it too, and thought we should get an idea of what is going on here for our own knowledge.” He leaned in as if confiding a secret. “Honestly, I’m not even sure who’s on the throne right now. Unless either of you happen to know?” He paused but didn’t seem surprised neither of them had an answer. He went back to eating, stopping to break apart one of the cakes and offer the larger piece to his friend, who had his own but took that one as well. “Didn’t get your names,” Arden said, while chewing his chunk of cake, his gaze on the fire as though he was not terribly interested.
Oh, Zelli realized,this one was like a canny trader.
“Tahlen,” Zelli gestured to Tahlen, offering no family name. “I’m Mizel.”
“At your service,” Arden said easily before looking to Tahlen. “Not to tell you your business, but wherever you are getting to, I’d suggest you get to it quicker, unless you have a force of guards hidden in the bushes.”
“Suggest, he says again.” The other one snorted with amusement, then explained. “When this one suggests, it means you’re going to end up doing it anyway. Just to warn you. Do I… smell spiced biscuits or is that my imagination?” He sniffed the air with such a hopeful expression that Zelli sighed and dug into his pack for the bundle of biscuits.
He stretched across the side of the firepit to hand the man the bundle, nearly dropping it when their eyes met, then plopping without grace back onto his seat, warmer even than the fire should have made him.
“Fuck me,” the larger one said roughly. “You’re like one of those tiny poppets for the noble children. All you’d need is a robe of silk, ribbons in your hair, and some color painted on your cheeks—no, I see that’s there already.”
Zelli stared at the man for some time before remembering to blink.
The larger one turned to Tahlen. “Now, now, no harm meant. He’s little, is all. Built delicate, too. Never seen anything like it except for the…” He stopped so abruptly it was clear what he’d realized.
“For the images of the fae on a tapestry?” Zelli offered, biting his lip but not certain if he was angry. His face was too hot and he didn’t think it was right that he should feel an itchy longing to touch Tahlen and, at the same time, be so aware of how small he was in comparison to everyone else. He didn’t know why that mattered, but it did. It made him want to touch Tahlen even more, but he wasn’t sure if he should now in front of the others, and thatdidmake him angry, or at least irritable.
