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Lur just may end up being my favorite character. But who knows? There are more that I haven't even met yet!
Another silence. For all his glib talk with Lur, this lord was a man who thought before he spoke. "If you recall anything, or if you know anyone with information, I am staying at the Harvest Moon. Do you know it? Good. There will be a reward for anything useful."
Small chance of that, Lur thought. He had first-hand experience with how the Deneban orphanages worked, as did nearly every child who had worked for Gi.
He wondered where Gi was now. Dead, maybe, since he hadn't seen him at the destruction of the house. Or hauled away to prison. But most likely, like the rat he was, he had run away in time to escape and was now calling in a few favors and getting ready to set up a new home with a new group of kids. Lur wasn't sorry to be away from the man. He was at an age that made him much less useful to the master thief, especially since his last growth spurt. He wasn't sure what became of the boys that Gi got rid of. Gi claimed he found apprentice jobs for them, but Lur was pretty sure he sold them or killed them. He'd been going half-blind watching his back lately. What this grim-faced lord wanted him for couldn't be any worse.
The lord emerged, ushered out by the round-faced man, who was bowing so low that his nose almost touched his knees. Must have given him a bribe, Lur figured. He wasn't sure how to act to convince his captor that he had no idea why they had stopped, and decided that, clever as the man was, he was better off saying nothing at all than too much. Therefore, as the lord picked up his reins again, Lur let himself show his relief, but didn't speak. To his alarm, when the lord was behind him again, he spurred the horse into leaping forward and going along the street at an alarming speed. People scurried out of their way, and Lur gripped the mane for dear life and yelled, "Hey! Slow down!"
The man chuckled. Lur didn't feel him move, but the horse slowed. However, now it was worse, for the gait bounced Lur half out of the saddle and was still too fast for Lur's taste. "Can't I just walk?" he begged. "I'll keep up!"
The horse slowed again, this time to a walk. "You'll have to learn to ride, you know. We'll be traveling fast."
Oh no. No way. "Who says I'm going with you?"
Instead of answering, the man said, "We haven't been introduced."
"Yeah, constables are short on manners."
"I can see I shall be surrounded by sarcasm for the next few weeks. I am Baron Niam of Hawk's Rest. You are?"
"Lur."
They were in a part of the city that Lur had only heard about. The streets were broader, flagged or of brick. There were few people abroad, and they wore gowns and caps and boots, some of them even more richly adorned than this baron who'd kidnapped him, moonlight glinting off jewels in their caps and buckles on their shoes and belts. Some of them stared at him, but mostly they ignored the party, intent on their own business.
The Harvest Moon was an inn with a large courtyard, busy with comings and goings at all hours. But several servants ran forward to catch up their horses and offer assistance. Niam dismounted and dragged Lur unceremoniously from the saddle, thrusting him toward one of these men. "Take this boy and wash him. Get him appropriate clothing, feed him whatever he wants, and then escort him to my rooms. Lur – you won't run away, will you? Because I will find you again if you do."
"I'm tempted," he admitted.
"Don't be. I'm a famed hunter. And I can always find this," he added quietly, and to Lur's astonishment, he ran a quick finger just over Lur's ear, along the mark that Lur had believed only he could see.
The bath wasn't so bad, although he'd worn his clothes for so long that they stuck to his skin in many places. The new clothes felt great, and the food was even better. But he couldn't enjoy the experiences as he wanted to. He never quite recovered from the shock of knowing that Lord Niam could see the mark on him. Even Paka couldn't see it, he knew – he had never told her of it, but if she had seen it, she would have mentioned it, asked him about it. He brooded over that, and when the inn's servants told him how lucky he was to have gained the patronage of Lord Niam, all he could do was wonder what the man wanted. Because he wanted something. Yes, he definitely wanted something, and he wanted it pretty badly, too, or he wouldn't have been so friendly to a street kid.