The Cursewright's Vow

Chapter 12: In Titansgrave, Part 2

 But it turned out to be neither of those things. A small, dark-skinned boy carrying a bundle in one arm slipped through the crevice between the doors, turning surprised eyes on the newcomers. His stance said he would bolt at a moment's warning.

Barthim had other ideas, naturally. "Cass!" he cried, rising to his feet, his lips curling in the first real smile he'd displayed since they'd found Lena in the street. "I thought I would be breaking down the Lioness door to come and get you! Come here, boy!" 

Casimir approached Barthim almost warily, but didn't object to the rib-cracking embrace into which the bouncer swept him. After he was released he couldn't help wincing a little. The watchful look on his face as Denisius and Vos sheathed their weapons asked his question for him. 

"These are friends of the -- of Carala here. Denisius Gallis, out of the lonely little woodland of Marhollow, who is to wed little Carala -- "

Denisius squirmed uncomfortably at this. Carala hid a smile. She doubted there would be a wedding of any kind if little Carala were also a little wolf, but there was no point in interrupting Barthim, who appeared to be enjoying himself.

" -- and -- and -- Vos? Is it just Vos?"

Vos bowed his head with a small smile to Casimir. "It's just Vos, yes."

"Does Ammas know them, Barthim?" That watchful expression lessened not a jot or a tittle.

"Our friend Ammas has not yet had the pleasure of meeting them, no. But they very much are wanting to meet him when good Captain Thalia lets him go, or if he escapes, whichever is happening first."

"Escapes?" Carala exclaimed.

Barthim shrugged. "It has happened before. Mielle lets him get away with it if it serves her purpose. Or if it amuses her. I believe our Ammas amuses her most deeply sometimes. But -- well -- there has never been something quite like this, so I am not thinking it will be escape." The bouncer squeezed Casimir's shoulder reassuringly. "They are all right, Cass. The skinny one with the sad face could give us some trouble if he wanted, but not as much as he is thinking." Barthim winked at Vos almost lecherously.

Casimir didn't seem to see the humor in the situation and padded to Carala's side with a look at both gray-clad men that could charitably be described as mistrustful. Folding his legs under him he sat directly next to the girl, who looked surprised but not displeased. The cursewright's apprentice unwrapped the bundle in his lap, which proved to hold a few bits of slightly wilted fruit and some crumbled sweet cakes. "I thought you might be hungry. They have good food over there some nights."

Carala smiled and took a cake, a soft white one rippled with cinnamon. It did taste quite nice.

Denisius smiled at the boy. The smile was not returned, but Lord Marhollow persisted. "Cass, is it? Carala mentioned you a little while ago. Ammas Mourthia's apprentice?"

Casimir nodded, glaring. He didn't offer Denisius any cake.

"Well, you ought to be proud of yourself. I doubt I could make head or tail of this stuff."

"Casimir knows what he's doing," Carala said softly. One hand went to the little gold charm still dangling from her neck.

There was a not entirely uncomfortable silence then, Barthim staring into the fire, Vos slowly becoming consumed in a shroud of smoke, Carala and Casimir enjoying a late snack, and Denisius studying the boy curiously, wondering what he could have done to win Carala's trust.

Barthim, at last, broke the silence. "Vos, just Vos? Not Vos Somethingorother? Vos Somethingorother Lord Kiss-my-arse?"

"Ah, no," he replied, cocking his head curiously at this line of questioning. "It's just Vos."