"Shut the fuck up," Odilia said. "I'm here, as ordered. Let's settle up, so I never have to see you again."
Smile oily and sharp, Mack pulled a crinkled scrap of dirty paper from his jacket and held it out. "Outstanding debts and fees for care of the body."
Odilia snatched it from his hand, read it over, and then stared coldly at him. "I'm going to need to see proof of all of this."
"That's your proof right there," Mack said.
"This is your shitty handwriting making things up," Odilia replied, and threw it in his face. "Show me proof of debts my mother owed, or I'm not paying a single damned thing."
Mack laughed, cold and mean. "Go ahead, refuse. I'll have the sheriff summoned, and we'll tend this right off."
"Go ahead," Leonine said, stepping forward, the rattle of his spurs drawing Mack's attention, his eyes widening briefly before narrowing again. "Summon the sheriff. Even if he is your friend, as seems obvious, he'll be hard-pressed not to act as befitting his station in front of a royal knight, especially a knight who reports directly to Her Majesty the Queen and is currently on a quest by her direct command. Angering me is angering Her Majesty, and these are my friends, so go ahead and summon your good friend the sheriff."
Mack stared at him, perusing him slowly up and down like he probably did his whores. "You're no royal knight. You're barely out of the nursery, boy. Did you steal your daddy's spurs to play big man for the little woman here?"
Leonine stared silently until Mack faltered, then replied, "I am Sir Leonine of Darting, formerly squired to Sir Cimar of Vallion, who is Victor of Challenge and Royal Champion to Her Royal Majesty Queen Korena Highrow and His Royal Majesty Prince Consort Davrin Highrow. His Majesty King Rorlen was assassinated six days ago. I'm sure by now you've heard the news, even with the abysmal weather. Do you really think Her Majesty is in the mood to hear that some worthless slumlord is harassing one of her knights while he is on quest by her direct and urgent command? Surrender your proof or withdraw your complaints."
Mack simply went back to sneering, but his darting eyes gave away his game, along with the jangle of cheap armor and cheaper weapons. Leonine sighed and as they moved to attack, threw his arms out and pushed his magic, filling the immediate area with blinding light. His would-be attackers screamed in surprise and pain, and Leonine set to work in earnest, getting rid of three of them before the light had entirely cleared. He rounded on the biggest one next, finally drawing his sword and buckler—
And barely dodging in time as the glint of silver caught his eye, and the sharp edge of a throwing knife sliced his cheek open instead of killing him. Snarling, Leonine ducked away from the big guy, turned, dropped his buckler, and threw his hand out, turning the snow beneath the knife-thrower's feet to pure ice, causing him to slip and hit the ground hard. The man went still, blood spilling in a steady pool around his head.
Turning back to the last one, Leonine summoned fire, cupped between his hands, hot and bright and deadly. "Stand down."
The man stared at the flames, at Leonine, and then turned and ran.
Leonine banished his magic, retrieved his buckler, and narrowed in on Mack, who tried to flee inside his fortress of a home, but didn't do it fast enough. Grabbing him up, Leonine shoved him against the wall and braced him there with one arm across his throat. "Let's try this again. Submit proof or drop your complaints. Which is it?"
"L-l-let me go!"
"Which is it?" Leonine hissed.
"Pay the burial costs! Just those!" Mack wailed.
Leonine withdrew enough that Mack could stand properly, but kept firm hold of his shirt. "Key to the house?"
Mack dug it out and handed it over with a trembling hand. Leonine took it and handed it off to Everard, then threw Mack to the ground and dropped a coin in front of him that would more than cover the burial costs. "Cause me or mine anymore trouble, and it will be the last decision you ever make. Are we clear?"
"Yes."
"Are we clear?" Leonine repeated icily.
"Yes, Sir Knight," Mack said, scrambling to his feet, covered in snow and mud and gods knew what else, slinking into his house and slamming the door.
Leonine jerked his head at Odilia. "Lead the way."
Odilia watched him for a moment, a look on her face that he simply couldn't parse, and then nodded and turned away, leading them a short distance down the street. The house was as derelict as the rest, but someone had attempted to grow flowers in the bare scrap of earth in front of it. Odilia stared at the flowers sadly a moment, and then unlocked the door and slipped inside.
"I'll stand watch," Leonine said. "Let me know if I need to have a cart or anything brought."
"Thank you, Lee," Everard said quietly, and looked for a moment like he might say something else, but only gave a sad smile and slipped inside, leaving Leonine alone.
Across the street, some people came up to deal with the men he'd wounded, dragging them away to… honestly, Leonine didn't know and didn't care. His cheek was sore and itchy where it had been cut, but past a quick pulse of magic to deal with the bleeding, he left it for the moment.
He sighed, keeping watch for any new threats, desperately trying to ignore the stares and whispers no doubt provoked by the magic he'd used in that stupid, pointless fight. Exhaustion washed over him, all the magic use after a long, hard day of travel and inner turmoil not helping anything. He ignored it. A few more hours and he'd be back in his room. He could lick his wounds, physical and otherwise, and get some sleep then. For the present, he still had a job to do.
Hours, however, proved to be minutes when Odilia re-emerged carrying an old, worn wooden jewelry case, Everard right behind her. Odilia continued walking across the street, where she spoke with an old woman who was feeding a handful of scraggly chickens and handed over the key and a few coins. She returned after a few minutes, looking even more exhausted than Leonine felt. "It's done. Thank you, Lee, for all your help. I can't imagine how much more difficult this would have been for Everard and I, even formidable as he can be."
Everard snorted. "I couldn't have dealt with six men like that, not armed and skilled as they were. I certainly didn't have magic to throw at them. You're amazing as ever, Lee."
"Then why wasn't I good enough to keep!" Leonine burst out, then swore, pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, and fled.
Chapter Five
He heard them call his name, but he didn't want to hear whatever they were going to say. He'd already heard it, and the wound wouldn't close, no matter how hard he tried. Maybe after this, Her Majesty would be willing to let him take some time away. It felt like from the moment Cimar had risen as Davrin's champion, they'd been going, going, going. From lindworm to race to attempted assassination to duel and all the fallout thereafter.
From cautiously happy with his lovers, to being tossed out. From squire to knight to wealthy landowner and sent out to hunt assassins before he could settle into any of it.
Now this.
He was just so tired.
At least this little side quest was over. He'd acted like a perfect fucking fool right at the end, but he'd fled before it got worse, and now it was over. Once this quest was over with, he wouldn't see them again, except in passing around the city, and hopefully he'd be too busy to go into the city much.