fastening her shirt as she did so. “Hal’s wife looks after my dogs when I’m away. I’d forgotten they’d be bringing them back today. Get yourself into the attic. Lie down on the rafters and keep very still. Hal has seer’s blood in him. Reads auras and atmospheres. He’ll know something is different.” She stopped to scrutinise herself in the mirror. “Damn, his wife Sunas usually brings the dogs back.”
Fabian was at the window, scrutinising the visitor. “Invite him into the house,” he said without emotion. “I will kill him for you.”
Tig flew across the room and yanked back the curtain. “You do exactly as I say, or we’re both dead. His wife, we can trust. But Hal? See the brand new wagon, the pure-bred horse. The doeskin boots. You don’t buy those on what their farm makes. He finds out you’re here, he’ll want his cut.”
Fabian appeared unmoved. He shot another, disdainful glance at the figure now standing in the centre of the courtyard, hands on hips, head cocked as if listening.
“I refuse to hide like a coward.”
“Go to the attic. And that’s not a request. We’ve got to do something to confuse his senses.” She pointed to her chin. “Hit me. I’ll tell him I fell. That should throw him off.”
She’d asked, but the blow still took her by surprise. Fabian’s fist bounced off her chin, so fast she didn’t have time to cry out. Blood trickled, unhindered, from her split lip to splash onto her shirt. Already, her cheek was swelling. Fabian studied her, his face inscrutable. A drop of her blood stained his knuckles and Tig blessed his decisiveness.
“Thank you,” she said with more than a hint of irony in her voice. “Now hide.”
He went without protest, for which she was thankful, but the mutinous glint in his eyes told her there would be an inquest, later.
In the kitchen, she grabbed a drying cloth to dab at her thickening lip, while in the yard Hal called the dogs to heel. She’d stalled him for long enough. He knew better than to come into her house uninvited, but he wouldn’t leave until he’d seen her. Hal liked to keep a finger on everyone’s pulse.
“Hal,” she said, extending her arms wide to exchange a mutual hug. She pulled out of his too-familiar embrace and bent to acknowledge the over-excited dogs, now threatening to knock her flat with their enthusiasm.
“Tig.” Hal stepped back, studying her closely, as always. Her spine crawled. “I knew there was something wrong. Minute I drove into the yard. What happened?”
“Tripped over my own feet. Fell against the dresser in the bedroom. Where’s Sunas?”
“Leg trouble. She asked me to bring the dogs back on my way to the Settlement.”
“New wagon?” Tig placed herself between Hal and the open kitchen doorway. Any moment now, he would make his usual request for a drink to see him on his way. She would have no option but to comply. Humouring Hal was a delicate but necessary business. A man on the make was more of a danger than a man on the run.
“Oh, this old thing?” Hal waved a dismissive hand. “Lucky buy at a farm sale.”
“Give Sunas my love.” Keeping her mind neutral was impossible, given what she had hidden in the attic. Tig smiled widely, deliberately splitting her lip further. Immediately her thoughts re-focused on the pain. Hal frowned with concern.
“You took a nasty knock. Come with me to the Settlement. Get it stitched up.”
“It’s really not that bad. Do you have my flour and oil?”
“Oh, yes.” Hal turned for the wagon. “Price has gone up again,” he said with mock regret. “Ten kadoums a bag, would you believe?”
Thief
. But still, buying from Hal was safer than taking her own wagon into town and attempting to haul the goods home without being robbed on the way.
“Ten plates, ten mugs and a vase. Best quality.” She waited for his counter-offer. Hal took his time hauling down the oil-jar and two small flour sacks. He stacked them pointedly at the
Fabian was at the window, scrutinising the visitor. “Invite him into the house,” he said without emotion. “I will kill him for you.”
Tig flew across the room and yanked back the curtain. “You do exactly as I say, or we’re both dead. His wife, we can trust. But Hal? See the brand new wagon, the pure-bred horse. The doeskin boots. You don’t buy those on what their farm makes. He finds out you’re here, he’ll want his cut.”
Fabian appeared unmoved. He shot another, disdainful glance at the figure now standing in the centre of the courtyard, hands on hips, head cocked as if listening.
“I refuse to hide like a coward.”
“Go to the attic. And that’s not a request. We’ve got to do something to confuse his senses.” She pointed to her chin. “Hit me. I’ll tell him I fell. That should throw him off.”
She’d asked, but the blow still took her by surprise. Fabian’s fist bounced off her chin, so fast she didn’t have time to cry out. Blood trickled, unhindered, from her split lip to splash onto her shirt. Already, her cheek was swelling. Fabian studied her, his face inscrutable. A drop of her blood stained his knuckles and Tig blessed his decisiveness.
“Thank you,” she said with more than a hint of irony in her voice. “Now hide.”
He went without protest, for which she was thankful, but the mutinous glint in his eyes told her there would be an inquest, later.
In the kitchen, she grabbed a drying cloth to dab at her thickening lip, while in the yard Hal called the dogs to heel. She’d stalled him for long enough. He knew better than to come into her house uninvited, but he wouldn’t leave until he’d seen her. Hal liked to keep a finger on everyone’s pulse.
“Hal,” she said, extending her arms wide to exchange a mutual hug. She pulled out of his too-familiar embrace and bent to acknowledge the over-excited dogs, now threatening to knock her flat with their enthusiasm.
“Tig.” Hal stepped back, studying her closely, as always. Her spine crawled. “I knew there was something wrong. Minute I drove into the yard. What happened?”
“Tripped over my own feet. Fell against the dresser in the bedroom. Where’s Sunas?”
“Leg trouble. She asked me to bring the dogs back on my way to the Settlement.”
“New wagon?” Tig placed herself between Hal and the open kitchen doorway. Any moment now, he would make his usual request for a drink to see him on his way. She would have no option but to comply. Humouring Hal was a delicate but necessary business. A man on the make was more of a danger than a man on the run.
“Oh, this old thing?” Hal waved a dismissive hand. “Lucky buy at a farm sale.”
“Give Sunas my love.” Keeping her mind neutral was impossible, given what she had hidden in the attic. Tig smiled widely, deliberately splitting her lip further. Immediately her thoughts re-focused on the pain. Hal frowned with concern.
“You took a nasty knock. Come with me to the Settlement. Get it stitched up.”
“It’s really not that bad. Do you have my flour and oil?”
“Oh, yes.” Hal turned for the wagon. “Price has gone up again,” he said with mock regret. “Ten kadoums a bag, would you believe?”
Thief
. But still, buying from Hal was safer than taking her own wagon into town and attempting to haul the goods home without being robbed on the way.
“Ten plates, ten mugs and a vase. Best quality.” She waited for his counter-offer. Hal took his time hauling down the oil-jar and two small flour sacks. He stacked them pointedly at the
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