Victor Rosevale's Arc

Chapter 9 of 18

Victor walked back through the lanes with the spear on his shoulder. The man in the dark coat was somebody else's problem now. His problem was in a bed two lanes over, and he had left her alone longer than he wanted. He came in through the back window the way he had left. The bolt was still set on the front door. The fire he had banked still glowed. He stood in the doorway of the small room and looked at her. Sable had pushed the quilt down to her hip. Her red hair was flat on one side from the pillow. Her cheeks had color in them again. Not the gray he had carried down from the river. Not the wax of the shelter. Real color. He exhaled for what felt like the first time in a week. He leaned the spear against the wall by the door. He unlaced his boots and set them under the bench. He pulled the road shirt over his head. The cloth smelled like river and smoke and the sweat of four days. He dropped it on the floor. His belt followed. He washed his face and hands in the basin until the water went brown, then changed it and washed again. When he lifted the quilt, Sable opened her eyes. "You paid her," she said. "I paid her." "Come here." He slid in beside her. He was careful of her leg. She turned her face into his shoulder and put a hand flat on his chest, over the ribs. Her fingers were warm. Not the cold he had held in the shallows. Warm. "You're shaking," she said. "I know." "Stop." He laughed once, quiet, and it did stop after a minute. He listened to her breathe. He listened to the house. No boots in the lane. No knock. Just the fire settling and a dog somewhere down the row. "I'm done," he said. "The gate. All of it. I'm not going back." She was quiet a moment. Her thumb moved once against his skin. "Good," she said. "Sleep." He meant to answer. He meant to say he would tell the captain in the morning, that he would find honest work, that he would build them a life that did not depend on a spear at a gate. He meant to say he had deserted four days ago and that word would reach the castle before the week was out and they would come to the door for him. He did not say any of it. Her breathing had already evened out. His body finally gave up the road.