He laughed. "Temptation."
She got up and used the toilet cubby, combing and tying her hair and changing into her traveling clothes. She no longer cared whether he turned away; in fact she might secretly have preferred that he look. Her good dress was sadly crushed, but she would fix that when she had time. She was privately glad that the journey was long, because she had come to value the minstrel's company More than she should, she knew.
In due course they left the house. The Village Elder intercepted them. "News: there is a report of brigands infesting the path toward Triumph City. Best to wait on a convoy, or take another route."
Hayseed shrugged. "Another route would be tedious, and there may be weather after today. We should be safe enough."
"But Sire!"
Hayseed glanced at him, and the man backed away with a muttered apology.
Opaline made a mental note: add one more item to the mystery of Hayseed the Minstrel. Why was he ignoring obvious danger? Was she safe from brigands in his company? But, again, did she have a choice?
They set out at a brisk pace, and the slight stiffness of her limbs dissipated with the exercise. It was a beautiful morning. What had he meant by weather? There was no sign of it. But the brigands—that bothered her. She had never encountered one, but had heard stories. They were said to be merciless predators intent on theft, rape, and murder. Weren't they taking an awful risk?
They paused at noon for a snack and natural functions, then moved on. Opaline admired the scenery, as they passed one colored zone after another. She had never been in a Chroma zone, and wondered what it was like to have magic. People who lived there must be very lucky.
"Beware," Hayseed murmured. "Do not draw your knife."
He knew she carried a knife? That was supposed to be a maiden secret, to be used as a last resort to protect her honor or life. But why was he warning her at this moment?
Then a large ugly man stepped out on the path ahead. "Ho, traveler!" he called. "We'll take your valuables now, including the girl."
"Brigands. If they approach you, run into a Chroma zone," Hayseed whispered. "They won't follow you there."
They were standing between a red and a blue zone. It would be easy to reach one or the other. But why wasn't he fleeing too?
Hayseed strode forward. "We are not for you," he told the man. "Let us pass unmolested, and you will be spared."
"Ho ho ho!" the man bellowed. "The man's a joker." He put his hand on his club, menacingly.
Hayseed's long staff swung up, clipping the man on the side of the head. He fell, cursing.
Then four more men jumped out from the bushes on either side. Two grabbed each of Hayseed's arms and swung him about.
"So you want to fight, eh?" the first brigand said, getting up. "Well, we'll oblige you, sucker." He closed his fist and struck Hayseed in the belly.
Opaline acted before she thought. "Brigand!" she called.
"Ah, the morsel speaks," the brigand said, turning to look at her. And stared, surprised.
Opaline was holding her blade to her own throat. "Let him go, and I will drop the knife," she called. She knew that would mean being gang raped, but she couldn't stand to see Hayseed brutalized.
"Well, now," the brigand said. "The wench has spirit. I like that." He strode toward her.
"Touch her and you die," Hayseed said.
"Ho ho ho!" The brigand continued striding.
Opaline tried to slice her throat, but her hand wouldn't move. It had been a bluff, and she lacked the nerve.
The brigand loomed before her, his body stinking of sweat. He reached out to take her knife.
And dropped to the ground before her. A different knife projected from his back.
Opaline looked at Hayseed. Now he was walking toward her. The four men who had held him were all sprawled on the ground, unmoving. Somehow she knew they were dead. Hayseed took the knife from her hand and returned it to her hidden underarm sheath.
"What—how—?" she asked, collapsing into his arms.
"I am a martial artist," he said. "We needed to be rid of those brigands, so I provoked them into giving me cause."
"Provoked them—by having me as bait?"
"Affirmation." He gently disengaged, and bent to draw out his knife from the brigand. He cleaned it against the ground and returned it to his own hidden sheath. "Apology."
"And this is not yet the whole truth about you?"
"Affirmation."
"I expected to be gang raped. I didn't even have the nerve to save you. You had to save me."
"You did a fine thing."
"I failed."
"Irrelevant. You showed your mettle."
She couldn't help it. She dissolved into tears, there in his embrace, with the dead men all around.
Chapter 2 Plant
Gale glanced around. She was alone in the bedroom, because Havoc was traveling with the "fifth" girl, to be sure she made it safely to her assignment. She would surely be his no fault mistress before that was done.
Meanwhile Gale was antsy; she didn't like sleeping alone, even after twenty two years of marriage.
Then she felt it: a faint summons from a plant. Not a familiar one; this was different. It needed her attention.
She got up, used the toilet facilities, and dressed quickly. Then she went to wake Vila.
But the girl was already up. "Mommy! There's a plant!"
Gale paused a moment. She and Havoc had adopted their first three children, now grown, and then had a natural one, Voila, now also grown and the most potent Glamor ever. Suffering a siege of empty nest syndrome, they had decided to have another, and that was Vila, her name nowhere near the simplified form of their first natural child that others assumed. Vila was no Glamor, but she was every bit her own person, even at age five.
Gale gazed at her daughter. Vila had a very fair complexion and curly reddish-brown hair that fell all the way to her feet. She looked exactly like the vila of folklore, a magic wood spirit who protected trees, streams, springs, plants, animals, and children. The mythological vily (the plural form) were bound to particular trees, though they did not have to stay close to them. Vila had her own tree, that Havoc had found for her, and it really did protect her. Influenced by her parents, who were the Glamors of Trees and of Moss and Lichen, Vila had a close affinity. So perhaps it was not surprising that she had picked up on the distant plant that had wakened Gale.
"You think too long, mommy," Vila said, frowning cutely. "We need to fetch it now."
"Agreement." She picked up the child and conjured them to the region where the plant was. This turned out to be near the edge of a Green Chroma zone. Everything was shades of green, no other colors, apart from themselves. It was an uninhabited region, but the environment was magic. "Caution," she said, setting Vila down. "Stay close."
"Acquiescence," Vila agreed. She knew better than to get willful in a Chroma zone. She pointed. "There."
She had located the plant before Gale did! The girl did carry Gale's ikon, and that gave her some Glamor-like qualities. And of course she had been raised in the ambiance of two plant-connected Glamors.
They walked to the plant. It was hardly more than a seedling, a thin stem with a single cup-shaped green leaf that oriented on them. Some plants did that, but Gale knew this was no ordinary plant. It was alien to her experience—and her experience with plants was second only to Havoc's.
"Daddy will know," Vila said confidently.
"We will take it to him." Gale conjured a suitable pot, then dug in the earth around the plant, excavating a ball of soil that included the plant. She lifted it into the pot.