The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Garrett Robinson (poetry books to read TXT) 📖

of the tavern. They stopped in the alley, searching left and right. One of them spoke, and the words drifted up to Sun and Albern on the rooftop.

“Where did she go?”

“I do not know. She vanished.”

“Our lord will have our heads.”

“Not if we find her. Split up. And if you see that useless constable, enlist him into the hunt.”

They ran off, one to the left and one to the right, and soon they were lost from view.

“They knew!” hissed Sun, who feared to speak too loudly.

“They did,” said Albern.

“They followed me to the tavern!”

“So it seems.”

“My parents sent them,” said Sun. “Curse them. I thought I had snuck out without detection.”

“Our parents often like to let us think we are alone and independent, but they watch us more closely than they allow us to see. Royal children especially.”

That drew Sun’s attention. “Not royal,” she said.

Albern smiled. “Noble, then.”

She turned her gaze from him. “You have not asked why I am hiding.”

“That is your business,” said Albern. “It has nothing to do with me, unless you wish it to.”

“What if I am a criminal?” said Sun. “I could be a thief or a murderer.”

Albern chuckled. “Those women are guards. Retainers of a noble family, or mayhap hired hands to protect a merchant’s caravan. If you were on the run, you would not be afraid of them, but of redbacks.”

Sun frowned. “What?”

“Forgive me,” said Albern. “It is not a polite term. Constables with their red armor, and Mystics with their crimson cloaks—those who fear the King’s law call them redbacks, collectively.”

“And how would you know that?” said Sun.

He grinned at her. “I, too, could be a thief or a murderer.”

That forced a laugh from her, though she quickly hushed it and threw another nervous look at the street below. “The stories say many things about you, but they say nothing about being a criminal.”

“I suppose they are not entirely worthless, then,” said Albern with a smile.

Sun chuckled.

“If you still need to relieve yourself, climb down and do it quickly,” said Albern. “That shed built against the back wall is an outhouse. I will wait here.”

Sun nodded and did as he suggested. After she had climbed back up and settled herself on her pile of cushions again, she looked at him expectantly and waited for him to go on.

Then she nearly jumped out of her skin at a loud thunk behind them.

She tensed, ready to run—but then a hidden panel swung up from the rooftop. The barmaid from earlier climbed halfway up through the hole, and in her hand was a tray with two full mugs of beer.

“I am glad you found your way here safely,” she said to Albern. She put the tray with the mugs on the roof between the two piles of cushions. “Anything else? Some food, mayhap?”

“None for me, thank you, Morled,” said Albern. “Sun?”

“No, thank you,” said Sun, who suddenly found her fingernails very interesting as a flush crept into her cheeks.

The barmaid only smiled at her. “Sun. A lovely name.” She leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Sun’s cheek. “Bear no worries tonight. No one here will let you fall into the hands of the constables—or anyone else who looks for you.”

With a final bright smile, she retreated back through the roof hatch into the tavern. It was quite a little while before Sun realized she was frozen staring at the hatch, one hand gently touching her cheek where she could still feel the warmth of Morled’s lips.

“Have another sip,” said Albern. The moonslight was not bright enough to show it, but Sun could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yes, thank you,” said Sun distractedly. She seized the mug and drained half of it in a single pull.

“You are clever,” said Albern. “If you finish it quickly, she will have to come back.”

“I—that is not why I—”

Albern’s smile widened and turned into a grin. “I know.”

“Does your injury still pain you?”

He frowned. “What?”

“Your injury. The blow that knocked you unconscious in Northwood. Does it still hurt you?”

Albern raised the stump of his right arm. “This one does, on occasion. But the knock on the head I took in Northwood … no, that does not pain me any longer.”

“And Mag?” said Sun. “Her injuries—were they very bad?”

Albern’s mouth twisted. “Mag suffered greatly at Northwood. But her hurts were of the mind, not the body.”

Sun frowned. “I thought you said—”

“I said I thought I saw her injured,” said Albern. “In the thick of battle, I was sure of it. But war turns a mind to madness. Soldiers often think they see things that never happened. It is one reason you must be very wary of believing stories—and war stories in particular.”

“Do you mean they did not hurt her, even in Northwood?” said Sun. “Even in the press of all those Shades?”

“They hurt her,” said Albern quietly. “They hurt her more deeply than she had ever been hurt in her life. But she was Mag. She was good at getting back up and carrying on. We both were, then. And Kaita, the weremage, had always been good at it.”

Even as I lay unconscious on the ground, Kaita was winging her way west over Northwood as it burned.

Unarmed, she thought. She beat me unarmed.

Again.

Beyond the city’s western outskirts, she found Rogan in council with his captains. They had gathered atop a hillock, from which they could observe most of Northwood and the progress of their troops through the city. Kaita landed and resumed her human form. Once he saw her growing out of the bird’s shape, Rogan bid his captains away with a wave of his hand and went to speak to her alone.

“I need more troops,” said Kaita. “I know where Mag is, but I need more to overwhelm her.”

“We cannot spare them,” said Rogan.

“Rogan—”

“We cannot spare them, Kaita,” said Rogan. “I must ride north after Loren, and I must take many of our siblings with me. And I need you to lead the rest of