The amused glint in the reddened eyes visible through the veil of unwashed hair made Vaelin glad he had removed his weapons before coming here.
“What happened to your nose?” Nortah asked.
“An outlaw’s arrow,” he replied. His gaze shifted to a patch of dried blood on Nortah’s forehead, picking out the small black knots stitched into his scalp under the reddish brown stain. “Brother Kehlan says they’ll live.” Vaelin stooped to peer at Nortah’s wound. “You’re out of practice, brother.”
“This was Master Hollish, proprietor of the White Stag,” Nortah replied, his chains rattling as he lifted his hands to gesture at the injury. “Now there’s a fellow with a strong arm. He was at Alltor, you know.”
“So were many.”
Vaelin moved to the low wooden bunk with its straw mattress and sat down, allowing the silence to descend once more. Nortah had never been comfortable with silence.
“Three dim-witted sailors talking about the war,” Nortah said finally. “Bragging about the battles they’d been in. They’d never been in a fucking battle, I could tell. I thought they might benefit from a taste of what it’s really like.”
“Actually, one of them served aboard the Queen Lyrna at the Battle of the Beacon. Brother Kehlan says he’ll be lucky if he keeps his eye.”
Nortah looked away, tongue playing over his lips and fists bunching in his manacles. Vaelin knew his moods well enough by now to read the signs; he was starting to sober up, meaning he was also getting thirsty.
“My sister came begging, I assume?” Nortah asked, a certain resentment colouring the discomfited note in his voice, just a notch shy of desperation. “I didn’t ask her to.”
“No, you never do. And yet she comes anyway. This time she brought Lohren, but not Artis. Why is that?”
Nortah shrugged. “The boy wishes to carve his own path.”
“The boy is barely twelve years old. Having lost his mother it seems he’s also lost his father.”
“Kerran cares for him, and Lohren and the twins. They get all of my pension save a small pittance.”
“For which the innkeepers of this town are very grateful.”
For a second Nortah glared at him, then laughed. “All right,” he said with a rueful shake of his head. “What will it be? Another thirty days in the mines? Sixty? Fair enough. Miners always have plenty of grog. I will, of course, pay due restitution to the injured parties. Even buy that sailor a glass eye if he needs it.”
“No.” Vaelin shook his head. “No, brother. Not the mines. Not this time.”
“Then what? A flogging in town square? Hang me in the old gibbet for a few days?” His mouth twitched as he smiled, voice quavering as the thirst took hold with a vengeance. “As you wish, my lord.” He closed his eyes, running a palm over his bunched brows. “Just a small cup of wine first, is all I ask.”
“I am not currently minded to accede to any request you might make, Lord Nortah.” Vaelin got to his feet, moving to the door. “You will receive adequate food and water. Brother Kehlan will visit every few days to check on your health.”
“You’re just going to leave me here?” Nortah forced a laugh, bracing himself against the wall as he got unsteadily to his feet. “I have a right to trial, don’t forget. As a Sword of the Realm . . .”
“You have all the rights I choose to grant you,” Vaelin snapped, pausing to glance around the cell. “For now, I choose to grant you the hospitality of my home.”
Nortah’s tongue snaked over his lips again. “For how long?”
“However long it takes Brother Kehlan to tell me you’re no longer a drunkard.” Vaelin turned back to the door, raising his fist to knock for the guard’s attention. “By then perhaps you’ll have remembered you’re a father.”
The attack came without warning, Nortah’s bulk slamming Vaelin against the door, his chain looping over his head, drawing tight. “What do you know of fatherhood?” he hissed in Vaelin’s ear, his breath acrid enough to sting the eyes. “What do you know of family? Just because you used to fuck my sister . . .”
Vaelin’s head snapped back into Nortah’s nose. He followed with a hard elbow to the ribs before ducking loose of the chain. Nortah retreated a step, eyes bright above his bloodied beard as he snarled and charged again, aiming a double-fisted blow at Vaelin’s head. Vaelin stepped close before it could land, driving a knee into Nortah’s midriff, forcing the air from his