Private Tales A Light in the Dark

[Lyssia D'avore]

"I would have preferred to not be under his roof, under his power," she said. She looked again to the soldier, to the planes of his face and broad shoulders, and shook her head such that her hair swayed with it. She adjusted the skirts of her now clean dress. The fine wool had been dyed a pale orange, the skirts and earthen brown that both complimented her hair rather well.

She offered him a smile, the bare curve of a lip. "Fortunately, I have you to keep me safe," she added. Not mocking him at all.

Well, not entirely. She did not want to let him think that she depended on his presence too much. He might get ideas about that.

What is it you want?

Oh, she knew what she wanted. She just could not admit it to herself. Not yet, maybe not ever. Not with the loss in his past, and not with the... debasement she had suffered. Even had she the courage to speak it, she couldn't bring him down to wallow in the mud alongside her.

A bright, brittle smile to hide it all behind. It lasted all of a moment before she found herself biting her lower lip, her eyes going distant as she thought of the male she was to visit.

"Just..," she began as she stood, setting her things aside. No jewels, no ornamentation. She missed some of that, but it was part of life on the run. "Just don't let him... never mind," she began, and then cut herself off. She turned, skirts swirling, and came to stand in front of him. Head and shoulders taller than she was. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well? Are you going to step aside?"

She was such a coward, but she was very good at hiding her heart.

 

[Elijah]

Elijah wondered if there was an age where men began to understand women.

Hurriedly he stepped out of her way and back into the corridor making sure there was enough space she couldn't aim a slap in his direction. Like most men, Eli had no idea what he had done that had suddenly made her bristle like a cat and stalk him like some poor country mouse. Some might call him foolish for assuming he had done something wrong but in his experience assuming that was far safer than continuing on oblivious. So he waited for her to take the lead and then followed her down the stairs at a respectable distance.

The inn keep seemed to realise something had passed between them for he gave Elijah a sympathetic smile before returning to his sweeping; soon the midmorning patrons would arrive.

"It'll be safer to leave Gypsy," Eli commented as he stepped onto the street and flagged down a carriage who pulled over.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

"She can't like being hobbled and in a stable all day," she replied as she stepped into the confines of the carriage. She had ignored the keep and his look of commiseration that had been offered to Elijah; why would they need such a thing in a country where she and every other woman was seen as less was quite beyond her. And never mind the other thing that she was.

Someone with the gift of magic. Or the curse. Sometimes it was difficult to tell which was the case.

As the soldier stepped into the close quarters with her and shut the door, she suddenly remember what it was they were about. Just as quickly, unease settled on her like a cloak and set her to fidgeting with her skirts, eyes looking in some middle distance. For a moment, anyway; they soon focused, and fell on Elijah.

An odd mixture of appraisal and shyness had stolen in her expression, and both were quickly subsumed by the unease she had been unwilling to admit to herself or to Elijah.

Until now, anyway.

"I... am ill at ease," she said suddenly. "Why did he decide to call us to his estate?" The last was not directed to him, merely breathed out as a question to herself. "Something doesn't sit well..."

 

[Elijah]

The Captain's brows pulled down into a frown.

"What do you me--?"

His question was interrupted by the sudden stopping of the coach they were in. The footman at the back scrambled off his perch which caused the thing to rock slightly, and then a moment later the door opened and a gloved hand was held out for Lyssia's hand.

"My Lady," he said. Eli didn't bother to correct them. Dressed smartly and going to the Lord of the town's manor? It seemed right to assume they were someone important. Elijah got himself out of the carriage with a icy glance when the boy offered him assistance.

"Well... there's no turning back now," he murmured and offered his arm.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

No turning back.

Well, there hadn't been for some time now - irrespective of this particular departure from their mission. Lyssia accepted Elijah's arm and for once did not find herself pre-occupied with his closeness, and that strange and exciting emotion she still steadfastly refused to acknowledge.

Especially when he was around.

Instead, she looked forward, to the manor with a touch of trepidation.

The Roe manor was a pitiful display compared to the family residence of the D'avore. It barely qualified as anything other than a large house, and walking up the stone-set gravel walk to the front steps only heightened the incongruity between the apparent lack of wealth and the impression of it. It was an elegant structure, rose trellis-decked walls and windows framed in thorns and roses - apt - with windows that lacked so much as a single bubble in their glass. Off-white stone showed through the vines and foliage.

She moved with a well-practiced grace, a courtier without a court and without a title to boast. It was while she smoothly ascended the steps that she understood what, exactly, it was she had to offer, and it made her gut twist inside. She remembered, then, why it was she disliked this particular boy so much.

He was a creature of possessions. Jealous and territorial and, more importantly, fixated on the things he desired. And she, barely standing to Elijah's shoulders, had sparked his interest many years ago. Fiery hair, remarkable eyes, and a slim and delicate form she could thank her mother for...that was what he desired. It was she that would be the bargaining chip on this particular table.

She almost balked at the last, as they came to the door and the doorman opened the way forward into the foyer. Almost turned and walked away. It was only the sacrifices that Elijah had made for their common cause that steadied her, even though she felt sick to her stomach. The feeling only trebled as the boy stepped from a hallway on the upper floor.

A boy no longer.

He was a finger or two shorter than Elijah, with dark hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. The rope hang between his shoulders, wings of ebony framing eyes of a chocolate brown that were hard as steel. His face was handsome enough, but...

From where he stood, she could feel his eyes on her, sweeping down and then up, lingering here and there. It made her distinctly uncomfortable, but she said nothing.

"Exquisite," he said from the second step down from the top, one hand trailing on the banister. "You look exactly as you did back then, Lyssia," he added in a warm voice with a familiarity he had not earned. She kept her face pleasant enough, dipping in a shallow curtsy to him. "Alan," she said. His name was foreign and unwanted on her tongue. "Elijah," she said as she dipped her head in his direction. "Thank you for seeing us on such sudden and short notice," she said.

An oily smile fixed itself on his lips. "Why, I wouldn't dream of turning you away, my dear," he said, and continued to descend the steps. He eyed Elijah up and down dismissively, then set his eyes on her again. And despite every attempt to keep her features smooth, her arm tightened ever so slightly on Elijah's.

 

[Elijah]

"Perhaps we should go in?"

Elijah's job as a bodyguard for the Dynast and her family meant he had grown well versed in ignoring things he shouldn't see. Stolen kisses with unsuitable men, gestures and thinly veiled threats to enemies. It was his job to know these things but also to know when to act on them. For the most part, that was never. It was not his place. Here, however, Elijah's careful training vanished when Lyssa's fingers dug ever so slightly into his arm. His face became a stony scowl and he found himself stepping forward just an inch to place Lyssa behind him.

He nodded to the house behind the oily merchant.

"These matters should not be discussed outside."

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

She felt an incredible surge of emotion, and knew it for what it was - love, bright and brilliant - at the quiet way that Elijah put himself between her and the odious noble. She looked up at the side of his face, something of it gleaming in her eyes before cutting them to the stairs.

As he came to a stop at the base of the stairs, Alan Roe regarded the Captain again. Obviously there was little chance he would know who Elijah had been before circumstances had gone awry, but there was no amount of play that could hide the fact that he was a warrior in some capacity. The careful assessment behind guarded eyes was clear enough: a declaration of recognition to that fact.

But it did not cow the noble, either.

"Right you are," he said smoothly, and gestured into the wings. A servant and a pair of armed men - presumably retainers - drifted into the shadows without a word. "After all, Erdenii nationals are not precisely viewed kindly here." He gave Elijah a meaningful glance, and an even more meaningful one to herself. "Especially ones with...talents."

The unspoken threat was clear, and Lyssia realized that this was all a mistake. How could they garner any support from a snake like this man? He smiled faintly at the involuntary tensing of her posture at his words. "Oh, but do not worry, my Lady," he said. And lending the words an uncomfortable familiarity that she did not invite. "Your secrets are safe with me," he added.

For a price that seemed to say. A very large mistake indeed.

"Well that they are," she said much more calmly than she felt. Another brief squeeze of his arm and she was stepping forward. Still struggling to keep her roiling insides from showing, but trying - trying! - to take the lead in this task. "As I doubt your colleagues would be very understanding of hosting us otherwise."

He smiled, a shark's smile. "If you would follow me," he said, and turned to the right, heading for a doorway beneath the curving staircase. Lyssia looked to Elijah, then followed.

 

[Elijah]

Was he really attempting to threaten her? Elijah glanced down at Lyssia with a raised brow, the question clear; should we leave? He had fought wars with less allies than he had wanted in the past and it caused him no pain now to turn away from this... this cretin if they so needed. Eli would fight this war for the Dynast and he would win her her freedom back. He did not need curs such as this one he would constantly have to look over his shoulder at. But Lyssa was different. She thought different, could see the spiders web where he could not. Perhaps she saw some downside here he did not in leaving right now.

When she walked on Elijah trailed after her.

He considered, not for the first time, he was rather out of his depth. Battles he knew but politics was a battlefield he had never been good at navigating.

The Prince led them into a small chamber that looked cozy enough but Eli got the impression it was not the finest this house offered, nor the one someone of Lyssia's station should be shown to.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

She led the way between the two of them, keenly aware of both of their vulnerability here in this house. This was enemy territory, she concluded to herself, and this was going to be today's battlefield.

The room he led them into was well furnished, bookshelves polished until they shined and a small desk set with wide windows looking out onto a garden backing it. There were no chairs except for the one behind the desk, which Roe settled into almost immediately. The slight was not even subtle; they were to be treated as commoners in every sense of the word.

Alan's lip curled up ever so slightly at her own's tightening. "Word of your... situation outpaces you, Lady," he said. The title was mockery in his mouth, just bordering on insult. "Not that I need any such word; the fact that you are here in Obanese territory says enough." He leaned over the desk, its surface bereft of any papers. "Who is your dog there, Lyssia? Hopefully you have him muzzled."

Steam curled through her veins. Steam and smoke and fire. She fixed a pleasant, meaningless smile on her face with a fair bit of effort. "I had come here to ask a favor of you, but it seems I am at a disadvantage," she replied. If there was a little ice in her voice, well... it was deserved. "What do you want?"

She knew that he only brought those things up because he wanted something and it was the opening salvo in securing his lines. A war of words instead of steel. He had an advantage on them by simple fact of who they were and where they were. She knew it, and he knew that she did as well.

"You know what I want," he said simply. There was no mirth in his eyes, only cold determination. "The same thing I wanted twenty years ago." His eyes cut to Elijah and then back to her. A trace of a leer traced itself out on his face.

She suddenly wanted to claw his eyes out. She did not move.

 

[Elijah]

Elijah checked the corridor before being the last inside and closed the door behind them, taking up a stance in front of it. From here he could keep a keen ear to the door and let Lyssa know should anyone come and press their ear up against the slight gap in the wood. This task was one he had done many times and it was easy enough for him to keep an ear on the conversation at the same time; though the next sentence out of the man's mouth made him wish he didn't have to listen.

The disgraced Captain's hate for this man was something he couldn't describe. It was like a wild tiger snarling in the back of his mind desperate to lash out. To strike him down like a venomous snake. But Lyssa needed him. He was clearly rich. Rich enough to be of help to them in their campaign. Elijah hated he failed her on that front.

His fingers curled into fists behind his back at the shadowy leer. Lyssa had explained enough for him to understand what it was he wanted but he didn't think he would have needed the background with the way he stood and acted. He might as well be licking his lips! Was his wealth worth this?

"My Lady is already spoken for," Elijah blurted out then quietly cursed himself though he kept control over his black expression. "Her hand is promised to another ally."

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

"Of course she is," he conceded to Elijah, offering him a smile that did not reach his eyes. She gestured to the diminutive woman before him, and offered a dry laugh. "She hasn't aged a day since the last time I laid eyes on her. A gift, no doubt, of her blood."

Sidhe. Fae. Immortal and so bound by magic that she was inseparable from it. She looked dozens of years yonger than she actually was purely as a result of that. "Well. We know of the highest price I might demand for whatever ... service you require, Erdenii. What remains unknown is what it is you desire."

It was a struggle to keep her face smooth, far more of a struggle than she would like to have admitted. She stared into his dark eyes, searching for any hint of compassion, of anything that would give her a reason to trust him. There was nothing there to see. And even so, she knew there was little else they could do but forge on.

"You know of the problems at home," she said carefully. He nodded curtly, a lip curling a bit at it. Anger stabbed through heart in the same way shock and hope and dismay had moments ago with Elijah's spoken sentiment. "I would do something about it," she said.

"I do," he said, and cocked his head to one side. Remained silent for a moment as he considered whatever he was to say next. "And I would say that the trouble facing you is mirrored here." He shook his head, leaned forward. "As if someone wants a war between our people."

She did not know what to say to that. She had expected hostility, or derision, or a refusal to help an enemy of his home nation. But this...

She was silent, and the silence stretched,

 

[Elijah]

Elijah, too, was thrown by the response. The man had gone from a lech to somewhat... reasonable in a few breaths. Could it be that he needed them as much as they needed him? Had everything before just been the pomp and circumstance that came with being a noble wanting to keep up appearances? He gave a quiet sigh. He had hated that part of Court back home the most. He simply wanted to know what a person wanted and what they thought, not play this Game of Houses. He resisted the urge to rub the bridge of his nose.

"Elliot," Elijah said bluntly thinking of their unwilling Drow companion from the last leg of his journey. "And others like them - they call themselves Revolutionaries," the Captain's disdain was practically dripping from every word. Some would have called that an irony but Elijah saw only their stark differences; in his eyes there was no common goal between what he wished and what they wished.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

"Not only Elliot," the noble replied. That he knew his name...

Lyssia kept her feature smooth with some difficulty. "No. The some of the Bursars are involved as well. Probably some of the Obanese nobles as well." She felt sick to her stomach, and not just for finding some reasonable aspect of this man whom she detested quite deeply. Partly that, but also partly to do with the sickening feeling of knowing the rot was in her home, too.

"War brings profit." The lord shrugged at the suggestion of profiteering off the suffering of others. "Revolutionaries or vultures, it makes no difference. In the end, blood will flow." His eyes shifted to Elijah, then to Lyssia where they lingered for a moment. "There is money to be made in the fighting, but..."

Money isn't everything. Maybe her family would have thought otherwise. Probably not, though; they had been slain because they were a threat. Direct or indirect, the aristocracy of Erdiniin had seen fit to snuff her entire family out. The flow of blood was not some abstract concept.

Not to her.

"Profits, and a change of where the power lies." The ball of ice in her guts seemed to grow. "Your aristocrats, mine, and ... others ancillary to the shifting current of power and money."

Roe steepled his hands in front of him. "Anyone who has caught the scent of any manner of profit to be made in these times. People of principle are vanishingly rare among the high seats. As you know." He raised his hands, palms open and outward. "Of course, I am not one of those people of principle. I do what I do out of a desire to maintain the status quo. And, perhaps ... for other benefits." He glanced to Lyssia, eyes lightly glazed for the half heartbeat his eyes lay on her.

She felt dirty, but this was politics. Elijah's brutal world was more honorable and cleaner than anything she would ever do. "The question is why do you do what you are trying to achieve here? I know of you, Lyssia. I do not know of your companion or his motives. Forgive me if I am... hesitant to be more open on such matters as this without understanding who might be an ally of mine."

Welcome or unwelcome, it was what they were trying to make of him. Out of expedience and necessity, if nothing else.

 

[Elijah]

Now the man had stopped leering he seemed to be proving to be somewhat helpful, even if what he was saying was concerning. The idea that the Bursars from back home and the nobility from these lands were working together to engineer a war made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. What would both sides gain from war? Nobles needed peace in order to trade and earn money; most of their estates relied on some sort of stability. The only thing war brought was death.

And deaths opened up spaces to rise further.

"I am Captain Elijah Stallard, head of the Dynast's - May she live forever - Pegasi Command," he gave a stiff, shallow bow. "The Lady Lyssia alerted me to the attempts on Her Imperial's office and that is why I help," not because of the woman looking at him. No, it had nothing to do with her, he lied to himself.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

"it seems that things are not so different in our two nations. Other than your spiders are more brazen than ours are." He gave Elijah a knowing look, then cut his eyes back to Lyssia. "A lady no longer, however. The fortunes of war."

"My rank is none of your concern," she said with a bit more of a bite than she meant. Oh, it stung still. Not as bad as it once had...but it still stung. "Any more than his is."

"Quite to the contrary," he said smoothly. "The Captain here at least has the sanction of the Dynast to shield him. You? You are nothing more than a branded traitor and a criminal. Your government keeps it quiet, but there is a reward on your head." His eyes narrowed a bit, a gleam in them. "You must have seriously offended someone, D'avore."

She said nothing.

"Still, I can offer you shelter. Here, in my home, where no one would have to know you are here. I have many resources to help avert what the powers and other like them desire. An upturning of the system; some for the redress of grievances, and others for the lure of even greater power and wealth."

"And what is it you want," she said quietly. There was no way she would take the offer. His presence made her skin crawl. "If not fortune or power, then what?"

"Simple. To keep what is mine." Those hooded eyes told nothing of what that might be. "I do not want change. The status quo suits me just fine. As, I imagine, it suits the Captain here."

 

[Elijah]

Elijah's skin crawled at the idea of staying here in the spiders web. Their cramped room was surely better than... than what? Maids? Separate rooms? A little bit of the luxury that Lyssa had grown up with? He soured. Of course she would want to stay here and not in the moth eaten bed that was all his coin could provide. She would be safer here, too. There were walls, guards. Elijah was a good man - a better soldier - but in a new land such as this one? Wasn't it better to have more men to hand should something occur?

Or was he just letting this man imprison them both?

He glanced to Lyssa; the decision was hers. He would go where she went as he always had since meeting her.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

She did not hesitate. "I do not need charity. Alliance, yes, but I do not need to reside in your halls," she added. The lure of comfort, of luxury was certainly there, and certainly real...

...but there were some things that would not be found here under his roof. And one of those things was the safety that Elijah had offered her these past months, past year and more. Roe certainly offered none of that, nor any of the comfort the solid, stoic soldier brought her merely by being there. The scent of his armor, the unflappable way he dealt with most things (except, amusingly, herself). That traitorous part of herself that craved sharing his bed again, pressed in to the warmth and the anchoring solidness that was him and him alone...

She shivered a little at the thought, scandalous and half welcome, half unwelcome, that rose in her mind.

"The Captain here offers everything I could ever need," she said matter-of-factly. She offered Elijah a look through her lashes, the cast her attention back to the nobleman.

"And what might I provide in the meantime, while you decide your course?" Roe asked of Elijah. Lyssia looked to him again, expectant.

 

[Elijah]

Elijah's lips curled slightly at the corners; Lyssia's harsh tongue was far more amusing when it wasn't being unleashed on him. The courtier seemed far more accustomed to it though, even pleased by it, if his answering smile was anything to go by. It made Elijah's wilt and fester into a signature scowl. It shouldn't irk him so much that others found in Lyssia the same things he liked. Yes... he did like it. As much as he feared it, he had also come to believe their verbal sparring unique to them. What a stupid, naïve thought.

With bitterness churning in his stomach he was caught off guard by their new ally addressing him directly and raised an eyebrow at him before glancing briefly to Lyssia. She didn't seem inclined to insert herself so he straightened his back a fraction and kicked himself into thinking like the general he was.

"Information," he said bluntly. "About this town to begin with, any possible threats or weaknesses the town has, but also its advantages," should something happen here he would have a plan to get her out. "But also about the situation here and anything you have of Dornoch and the Dynasty. I can also give you a few names of people to enquire about who might be amenable to aiding us."

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

"Of the Dynast, I can speak little beyond the usual rumor mill," he said. Lyssia made a sound in the back of her throat, but said nothing even as the Lordling eyed her. "The women at the top of your government are snakes," he added.

"Quite," Lyssia replied unhappily. She had been on the receiving end of their bite, after all.

"This town is too small to be of much import to the seat of Oban," he said. "It is not a port, it is not a military outpost, and it has few resources to speak of beyond that which the sea provides." He paused, cocked his head to one side. "Other than the mines in the hills flanking the coast. High quality iron ore. Smelted inland from here. I happen to own a fair few of those mines."

"But it is on the coast, and it does serve as a waypoint across the strait," Lyssia said, looking to Elijah. Heh ad the military experience.

"Unimportant unless someone draws the attention of the wrong people," Roe said. "The greatest weakness of this place is that it has no industry, and no real value in and of itself. The greatest strength is that it has no value, and so... no one will look here overlong if someone - say a certain fugitive - were to make their base here."

He looked to Elijah expectantly, cutting his eyes to Lyssia momentarily. For her part, she did not add anything.

Yet. There were ideas in her head beginning to take shape, however.

 

[Elijah]

Elijah took all the information in with simple nods. He was a man of few words and in this case all he needed was to listen. Behind the stoic face his mind was working in overdrive though. The keen military tactician seeing the flaws, the benefits, and the opportunities presented in what they were both saying. Yes, from what they were saying this would indeed make a good base from which to stage the take back of the Dynasty. Each day that passed away from home was a bur in his side. He ached for the Steppes and their open skies, not the hillsides and meadows the Kingdom of Delradia offered its people. He worried for his soldiers and the guard that had been under his command, and he worried more for those he had been charged to protect. The Dynast hadn't been seen in months; was she even still alive?

Samantha had made him promise one thing when she had died. He would not fail in it.

"We stay," he nodded and flexed his hand on his sword. "But the inn will be more than fine, they believe us merchants and will expect us to keep odd hours and travel about. It will work better for our cover," perhaps he could even go see about those mines...

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

"Merchants...," she whispered to herself, careless of the mildly condescending look from Roe. She was not of Dalriada, after all. She would not be one of their cowed women, speaking when spoken to and hiding her thoughts. You are not the ideal of Erdeniin, though. Traitorous thought, that, but she did not care about that either.

Inadequacy had been cast aside on the breaking voyage to here. She was her own creature.

"No industry here, but surely we could round up some people capable with a hammer?" Iron mines. A poorly looked after place in Dalriada, and the potential to push goods through under their cover as merchants. War was coming one way or another. She wished to avert the worst of it. "Take the ore, smelt it into steel, forge it into arms and armor. Take some of the product, sell it to fund a warchest."

"The idea is to not engage in butchery." Roe's voice was... dry.

"The idea is to not allow certain elements to gain ultimate power." There was a certain steel of her own in her words, quite uncharacteristic of the last several months. "Elliot will rally people to his cause. Those seeking power in Erdeniin and Dalriada will spill blood too. If we can excise the rot, surgically remove the cancer..."

"I do not have many fighting men," Roe said. He regarded Lyssia with a gleam in his eye - one of hunger. Truthfully, it had never left, just dimmed whenever she asserted herself too vociferously.

"We have a military man here who can probably put together a force," she said of Elijah. More hopefully than certainly, but she had put her life in his hand several times before and would gladly do so again. Even with such a great gamble as this.

 

[Elijah]

Both turned to Elijah.

Fuck.

It was such an uncharacteristic thought it almost made him laugh out loud but he had a feeling that would be met with cold stares from both sides. Instead he grimaced. The idea of raising an army on enemy soil came with a long list of negatives, but... it would also mean the people they were hiding from wouldn't know. Or maybe it would lead them straight to where they were hiding.

"I don't know enough about this place to make a call," he resisted the urge to duck from the dark look he would no doubt get from Lyssia for not supporting her idea from the offset. "We have to take things slowly, gather information as well as people, and bringing them here might just draw eyes here too," he shifted on his feet and flexed his hand on his sword hilt. "There are a few people I would like to reach out to who would not draw unwanted attention, and their wisdom... Well. It is from them that I learnt. They would be able to offer their opinions no doubt."

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

"Assembling a force on Dalriada soil may not be the best choice," Roe said hastily of Elijah and Lyssia's plan. He had gone a bit grey around the edges at the suggestion, which wasn't all that surprising. "Slow is best," he added in agreement.

"We can insert ourselves into the town more thoroughly," she suggested. This operation would not be a quick one. "Or in the countryside." The implication that they could live here for a time while they gathered information and did whatever else it was that would be required.

Roe looked at her oddly for a moment, but did not speak against the suggestion. "A farm playing at being farmers or in town playing at being merchants. Either would give us an opportunity to gather information and do whatever else we might need."

 

[Elijah]

Elijah looked as equally surprised and a tad uncomfortable with Lyssia's sudden vigour to raise an army, but when his eyes met with Roe's he scowled at him. Even if they did share the same feelings in this case he would never openly side with the man, not when he made Lyssia so tense. The Captain did look a little more relaxed however when she suggested far more manageable targets.

"Merchants seems the best; that's already what the innkeeper believe us to be. It would give us cause to travel about too, though carefully," he added before Lyssia could leap on the idea. They had to be careful and Lyssia stood out. It wouldn't be very hard for people to point her out if her description was given to a beggar in exchange for a copper coin.

"I would ask one thing," Elijah glanced back to Roe and the words were sour on his tongue before he'd even said them. "My pegasus; she would be safer here than in a common tavern stable. If you wouldn't mind I would bring her here tonight."

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

"We need a place to stay that isn't a common tavern, too," Lyssia said. She kept her surprise at Elijah asking anyone and - most especially - Roe to keep Gypsy. "A room costs money, and it's too easy to spy on us in a place we cannot secure."

But not at Roe's manor. Tenuous ally he might be, but she did not trust him. The lecherous look he had given her and even now still snuck her way left her feeling dirty. It was not an uncommon feeling, it was just the flavor of uncleanliness.

"I can keep her here for now. I may have a ... residence ... that would be suitable for you to lie low in out in the countryside. Not far from town, and it would not be out of keeping if we had business dealings for you to take up residence there." He paused, looked sidelong at Elijah. "Once there, you can move your four-legged companion out there.

"Easier to avoid prying eyes out at the edge of town than in a tavern," she nodded. And bringing Gypsy along would be better for Elijah's well being. He loved the winged mare like family and, she supposed, she was.