Ch 21

Now More Than Ever (Part 1)

JASMINE FLAMESWORTH

One good thing about finding the girl was that Dalmore seemed to have forgotten that he kicked me out. The innkeeper hadn't complained when I spent the night in my old room, and had brought me a bowl of gruel in the morning.

The hot sludge wasn't exactly my favorite meal, but it was better than nothing.

"So," I said after swallowing a mouthful, "your mother taught you all that stuff about plants and herbs?"

The girl nodded vigorously. "Papa was a mage, but Mama's talent was with plants. Not plant magic, like me, but knowing stuff about them. I think she knew the name and purpose of every plant in the Elshire forest."

The girl paused and picked at a loose sliver of wood poking out from the edge of the table. "She taught me about plants, and Papa taught me about magic. I wasn't born an emitter, but I always wanted to help make people better when they got hurt or got sick." She scoffed in a way that reminded me of myself.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked uncomfortably. The conversation felt like it was drifting into "heart-to-heart" territory.

She met my eye for just a second, then looked back down at her sliver. "It just seems a little silly now, doesn't it?"

"Actually," I said slowly, not exactly sure what I was going to say, "it seems like we need healers now more than ever."

She looked up, her face hopeful. "Really? Papa always told me that the world needed a lot of looking after, and everyone had to work together to do that. That's…why he and my brothers stayed to fight, even though they weren't soldiers."

I opened my mouth to say…something, but the girl kept going.

"We talked a lot. Mama and Papa and my brothers. We would go for walks in the forest, and they would tell us about everything we saw, what it was good for, what it needed from us in return. 'Everything has a purpose,' Papa said." She smiled, childlike and innocent. "And then Mama would add, 'Even if that purpose is just to be beautiful, like your father.'"

The elf girl giggled, even though she was on the edge of tears.

"That's…lovely," I said softly, then flinched at how awkward it sounded coming out of my mouth. "Your family sounds very nice."

She turned her chin up and wiped away a tear. "They were."

We finished our breakfast in silence before the girl asked, "Jasmine, what are we going to do now?"

I was about to suggest we go for a walk when I realized that wasn't what she meant. What were we going to do?

Ideally, some elven family at the Wall could have taken her in and raised her, but there were no elves here. Based on the seamstress's reaction to my simple request for clothes, I doubted anyone would be charitable enough to take on an extra mouth. People had their own problems.

There was an alternative, but I didn't know how to find them even if I wanted to.

Before they left, Helen had assured me they'd come back to check on me, and to see if I'd changed my mind. If I kept the girl safe until then, she could go be with others of her kind in the sanctuary. It was safer there than anywhere else in Dicathen, even if they were fighting a losing battle.

Out loud, I said, "We'll figure something out."

Before she could pepper me with questions, the inn's door creaked open and four large men came in.

They were soldiers, dressed for guard duty in the Bulwark Division. The largest of the four was missing a couple of teeth.

They glanced around the barroom, and, when they noticed me, the other three began chuckling and teasing the man I'd knocked out. He scowled at me, then led the rest to the bar, where Dalmore was looking on nervously.

"Little early for a drink, isn't it boys?" Dalmore said with a forced chuckle.

"Cold wind off the mountains," the big man grumbled. "If I'm going to stand watch from the top of the Wall for the next ten hours, you can bet your ass I'm not going to do it sober."

His cronies all chuckled appreciatively as Dalmore began pouring them mugs of beer.

Mug in hand, he turned and rested against the bar, watching me as he took a long, gulping drink.

"Why don't I show you around town," I suggested to the girl, though I didn't take my eyes away from the soldiers.

This drew the other soldiers' attention. "Look, Fulk, that girl who knocked your teeth out has a pet. That's cute."

The big man, Fulk, spit on the floor, drained his mug, and then slammed it down on the bar. "Where'd you find this raggedy little thing, Flamesworth?"

I was mildly surprised to hear him use my name, and it must have showed.

He grunted out a dull laugh. "Oh, that's right. I found out all about you after the last time we met. From what I hear, you're not quite the motherly type, so what's this all about then? Looking to make a quick buck? Wouldn't put it past a Flamesworth to deal in a little light slavery."

His eyes traveled up and down Camellia. To the girl's credit, she glared right back.

"Not much meat on that one, is there? My cousin used to do a bit of trade in elves on the side. Preferred to get 'em a bit younger than this here, I think, but then again, not many elves around no more." His flat face split into a cruel grin. "Tell you what, I'll give you, say, two gold for her."

The men around him howled with laughter. I took a step toward them, but Camellia was pulling at my arm. "Come on, Jasmine. Let's just go for that walk."

Fulk pushed away from the bar and crossed the room so that he was standing between us and the door. "What's the matter, pointy ears? I promise I'd be a real good master. I could use someone to clean up after me, knock the mud off my boots, wash my uniform, and you don't look like you eat much, anyway."

I took a step toward the big man and fingered my daggers. "Move."

From behind the bar, Dalmore was looking on in a panic. "Now, I won't have another fight in here! Stop or I'll—"

"What? Call the guards?" said one of the others with a laugh.

"Careful now, Fulk," said another. "You don't have many more teeth to lose."

Fulk snarled and clenched his fists. "I heard elves mature a lot quicker than humans. Is that true Flamesworth? I—" The man choked off in a wheezing grunt.

Three quick steps had brought me right beside him, and my fist had sunk into his ribs before he could even bring his meaty hands up to defend himself. He doubled over, and my knee came up into his nose with a satisfying crunch, sending him toppling onto his back.

I thought that would be the end of it, but Fulk struggled back to his feet and drew his sword.

The other soldiers eyed him nervously. "Hey, Fulk, we were just having a little fun, let's not—"

Their companion wasn't listening. His eyes bulged above a swollen, bloody nose, and he let out a roar as he lunged toward me, his sword blurring through the air in an overhead swing.

I sidestepped and let the sword crash into the wooden floorboards, then pushed the toe of my boot against the flat of the blade to keep it trapped there. "You're an embarrassment to your uniform," I said mockingly, then drove a mana-shrouded fist into his jaw.

Fulk tumbled sideways and crashed through one of Dalmore's tables, smashing it to kindling. Distantly, I heard the innkeeper groan.

The other three soldiers moved away from the bar to stand protectively over Fulk, who was struggling onto his hands and knees. "All right, that's enough. You're under arrest for assaulting a member of the Bulwark Division, Flamesworth."