Serpent in the Shadows: Part Two

Jak noticed Denil's feral grin and returned it. The scholar might look peaceful and gentle, but there seemed to be fire in him as well that made Jak's blood heat. He attacked again, grunting as his sword was driven off with a strong swipe of Denil's staff. Denil was fast and accurate, keeping up his guard while he warded off Jak's thrusts. Jak harried him relentlessly, never giving Denil time to recover, and Denil's staff countered each move just as quickly.

The battle took them around their small arena and Jak was distantly aware of kitchen helpers coming out to watch the spectacle. His entire attention was centred on the man in front of him wielding a staff with what he knew could be deadly skill.

It was just as fun as he had predicted.

Jak backed off for a moment to catch his breath. Denil was sweating liberally, his shirt clinging to his skin and moving with him as he panted. The odd wire frames on his face looked like a part of him and added to the strange contradiction of scholar and fighter. His choice of weapon showed that he was more inclined to peaceful resolutions than fights but he had enough skill to make anyone regret challenging him. Jak wondered who had taught him. The staff was an elf-weapon so he suspected that it had been Sai'em.

Denil saluted him with the staff. "Ready?"

"Unless you want to yield," Jak said, returning the salute.

Denil shrugged and launched into an attack. His staff whirled and Jak was hard-pressed to fend off the blows. Jak's sword-arm ached from the jarring vibrations and he was forced to back away. Denil followed an over-arm blow with a rapid swipe at Jak's ankles, forcing him to leap over the staff. A moment later Jak had to duck and roll across the floor to avoid a swing aimed at his head. Surprisingly, he never once doubted that Denil could pull his blows if he needed to.

Jak quickly leapt to his feet and faced Denil. They exchanged a few soft, testing taps before launching into an exchange that was half race and half fight, unorthodox as hell and so much fun that Jak realised he was laughing even as he evaded a particularly sneaky pattern of blows.

A moment later he realised that Denil had somehow manoeuvred him exactly where he wanted him. Denil shifted his grip on his staff and tangled it with Jak's sword. Jak's hand stung as his sword was whipped out of it and sent sliding across the floor under a table. Denil leaned on his staff and grinned.

"Yield?" he asked.

Jak caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eyes and held out his hand in time to catch a broom handle thrown to him by one of the kitchen lads.

"Never," he said as he stepped forward and attacked.

Denil stumbled hack, quickly raising his staff to defend himself. This time the fight was more evenly matched. The room was filled with the loud clacks of wood on wood as each man fought for the upper hand. Jak managed to get past Denil's guard once to slap him on the ass with his makeshift staff and a minute later Denil retaliated with a gentle tap to his stomach. Denil had rapid reflexes but Jak's experience and stamina eventually took their toll. He managed to distract the scholar for a vital moment with a feint and swept his legs out from under him while his balance was off. Denil landed on his back and grunted as the air was knocked out of his lungs.

Jak put a foot on the hand that held Denil's staff and rested the end of his broom handle against Denil's throat. "Yield?"

Denil swallowed. "Yes."

Jak took his foot off Denil's wrist and offered him a hand up. "You're not bad."

"You're pretty good yourself."

As Denil came to his feet there was quiet applause from the small group of inn staff that had been watching from a corner. Denil's flush from the exertion deepened with embarrassment. Jak couldn't help the heat rushing through his body at the sight.

"I'm going to wash up," Denil said before fleeing the room.

Jak glared at the snickering kitchen helpers. One lad sent him a saucy wink that he ignored with dignity.

By mid-afternoon Jak was bored. He had finished all his darning and repairing and one of the inn's maids had taken all their dirty clothes to wash. The horses were comfortable and clean and the tack had been washed and checked for damage. Sai'em was doing something in one of the cellars and had banned Jak and Denil from interrupting her. The rest of the inn's guests were either in their rooms or drinking in the common room. Denil had retired to a private sitting room off the common room with his books. Jak had briefly considered seeking out a game of dice or cards in the common room but somehow that wasn't as appealing as sitting with Denil. He had looked at Denil's books but only one was in Common and it had almost sent him to sleep by the second page.

Jak shifted in his chair and watched Denil turn another page in his book. The expression of deep concentration on Denil's face only made Jak want to disturb him and get that intense gaze focused on him. He managed to resist for a while but when a bell struck the hour somewhere outside the inn, Jak's resistance grew weaker.

"Good book?" he asked eventually.

Denil turned another page. "Yes, thank you."

"What's it about?" Not that Jak wanted to know, but it seemed a good way to start a conversation.

"A romance."

Jak tried to guess whether Denil was joking but after a minute's observation he had to conclude that he wasn't. "Really?"

The book slowly lowered until Jak could see Denil's eyes. "Are you bored?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"The fidgeting, the sudden interest in what I'm reading - do I need to go on?"

"Sorry, go back to your, uh, romance."

Denil's eyes narrowed. "Are you mocking my choice of literature?"

"Well-"

"This is an old story retold many times over the past thousand years."

"Uh-"

"There are really only three themes in fiction - love, hate and the quest for power. Throughout the ages these themes have recurred again and again in some form or combination."

Jak help up a hand to cut off the flow of words. "I said I was sorry."

"You did."

"And now I mean it. I won't make fun of your book again."

"Thank you."

There was a brief pause and then Jack asked, "So, what's it about?"

Denil sighed and lowered the book to his lap. "Ianith and Deblen."

"Never heard of them."

"Have you heard of Teblith and Corat?"

"Maybe."

A smile appeared on Denil's face but it was gone a moment later. Jak was quickly learning that those lightning smiles were the usual way with Denil and it took something really special to get a full smile out of him.

"They're two men who are childhood best friends," Denil said. "They go through many adventures and false directions before realising that their soul mate isn't out there in some distant land, but right next to them. Eventually they live out their lives together and die on the same day. I've found five versions of the story in different cultures. One version is over a thousand years old. The names and places change but the core of the story remains the same. Don't you think that's amazing?"

"Fascinating," Jak said dryly.

Another lightning smile flashed across Denil's face. "Want me to read to you?"

"I know how it ends now."

"You don't deal well with not doing anything."

Jak shrugged. "I like to keep active. Do you think the innkeeper has a stones board?"

A brief search produced a board and pieces from a chest in the corner. It also contained several dice and cups, cards from three countries and two versions of Hound and Hare. A low table with spindly legs was pulled out from the corner it had been hidden in and they set up the board. Jak took blue, Denil took red and they decided on ten neutral green stones. Denil's patently false expression of innocence when Jak asked whether he knew how to play was enough of a clue for Jak not to let him start with two king stones.

After a couple of moves, Denil looked up. "So, who did you fight with?"

Jak studied the board carefully before moving his house stone into a safe slot. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think that someone who fights like you do has spent his life with the Watch."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh." Denil quickly took two of Jak's stones and landed in a neutral slot. "I've met plenty of career Watchmen - most of them couldn't handle a sword without hurting themselves."

"Well, that's not fair." Jak grinned. "True, but unfair."

"So?"

"I was a mercenary."

Denil didn't look disgusted or appalled, only interested, which made a nice change from the usual reactions Jak got.

"Which company?" Denil asked.

"Wolf."

The scholar raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "You must be good."

"I'm still alive."

"You've also got both hands so you're not a thief."

"Got my balls, too - not a rapist."

"I'd never have believed that you were."

"But you'd believe that I was a thief?"

Jak played his move while he waited for Denil to answer.

"I don't think you'd take anything that someone couldn't afford," Denil said carefully, "but I know how mercenaries make their money."

"You also seem to know Wolf Company's reputation."

"Yes, but I'd be stupid to always believe a reputation. Stories can get exaggerated and changed with repeated retellings - it happens often enough in the works that I translate."

"Good point. In this case I'd say Wolf Company's reputation is pretty accurate. No rape, no looting from our employers or civilians who can't afford it and no butchery. Instead, we charge extortionate fees because we're the best out there."

"You talk as though you're still a part of them."

Jack considered it for a minute. "I guess it was a big part of my life for a long time and it's hard to forget something like that."

"Do you miss it?"

"Fighting in the rain? Foot rot? Damp tents? Blistering heat in the summer and employers who can't understand why winter campaigns are a bad idea? Never knowing whether I'll make it through another season? Why would I miss that?"

Denil smiled and moved his king stone to a spot which meant Jak had to hastily regroup or risk half his forces being wiped out.

"Why did you do it?" Denil asked.

That was a question that Jak was rarely asked, although it was something he had thought about for a long time when he first bought his bond with the Company. "Well, you see, I have these skills - talents, if you will. I'm good at fighting and strategising. I was never going to go into trade like my parents - didn't have the eye for a bargain like they did or a head for figures. I'm not big on book learning either. I thought about joining the army but that would mean obeying orders even if they weren't the right ones and one day I'd have to kill people who didn't deserve to die. I knew a lot of the companies didn't have much of a code so I didn't want to go merc. Then I heard about Wolf Company and it just seemed right. We were mercenaries so we were hardly angels, but I figured that if someone had to fight then it should be someone who believes in protecting innocents. So I went to their base quarters and tried out. Must have done something right because they sold me a bond."

"You got out with all your body parts, too," Denil commented.

"Yup. I can't say that doing any of the things that would have lost me body parts ever appealed." Jack shrugged. "I caught a guy raping a kid one time, and listening to him scream when they castrated him almost made up for having to bury the kid after he suicided."

For a moment Denil looked green but he swallowed and visibly collected himself. "I'm sorry."

"It happens."

For a while they played in silence. Denil had a good grasp of strategy and a quick mind, giving Jak a challenge that he hadn't had for years. Twice he was forced to regroup before Denil's forces could surround him. Somehow the scholar managed to capture a couple of Jak's stones and turn them to his side. That proved to be Jak's undoing when he missed a sneak attack partially hidden by some clever manoeuvres with the neutral stones.

Jak conceded defeat and turned his house stone black side up. "Good game."

"Thank you. Try again?"

Denil shifted uncomfortably in the bed and silently prayed that Jak wouldn't notice.

"Denil?"

No, he wasn't having a lucky night. He was one solid ache from his shoulders to his thighs where Jak had managed to the throw him to the floor earlier.

"Are you alright?" Jak asked.

This was one of the better beds that they been given but Denil couldn't get comfortable. He rolled onto his front and turned his head towards Jak. The other man was lying on his side facing Denil and the fire in the hearth provided enough flickering light to make out the concern in Jak's brown eyes.

"I'm fine," Denil lied.

"Could have fooled me," Jak said with a snort.

"It's nothing."

"If it's nothing, why aren't you asleep yet?"

"I'm not tired."

"You are a rotten liar."

Denil concentrated on relaxing the knotted muscles in his back instead of replying to that. After a while, Jak sighed.

"Sorry, didn't mean to pry," he said.

"You were just being concerned," Denil conceded.

"You're not comfortable with that - I get it." Jak paused. "Actually, I don't get it but I can respect your privacy if I have to."

"Thanks."

"If it helps, I've got a bruise on my ribs that hurts like hell," Jak said. "We probably should have been wearing padding."

"I should learn to land better," Denil said ruefully.

"I could teach you, if you'd like. A good landing can make the difference in a fight."

"Thanks. I might take you up on that."

"Any time."

Denil lay watching Jak until he realised that he was tracking the flickering firelight on Jak's skin and wondering what it would feel like if he ran his fingertips over Jak's cheek.

"Well, goodnight then," he said quickly, closing his eyes.

A moment later, the mattress shifted and Denil guessed that Jak was rolling over.

"Yeah, goodnight," Jak said softly.

It was a long time before Denil drifted into sleep.

Denil landed on the bed and bounced a couple of times. He glared up at Jak, who was standing over him with a wide smirk on his face.

"Having fun?" Jak asked, offering a hand to help Denil up.

"Oh, yeah, getting thrown around all morning is something I've always wanted to do," Denil said, hoping he didn't sound as irritable as he thought he did.

He accepted the hand up and stepped back when he was standing again. Jak had taken one look at the falling snow and declared that there was no time like the present to teach the art of falling safely. Denil had taken one look at the wooden floor in the common room and declared that there was no way he was getting thrown onto that again. They had reached a compromise; they had stripped the bed and Denil was now getting to learn by landing heavily on the mattress. He was just hoping that the bed survived the experience.

"Ready?" Jak asked.

Denil nodded. "Do your worst."

Without warning, Jak stepped forward and grabbed his wrist. He tried to use one of the counter-moves that Jak had shown him but he rapidly found himself thumping down on the bed again. This time he remembered Jak's lessons and the landing didn't knock the breath out of him. He was even able to roll over and stand quickly rather than lying on his back panting for air the way he usually did.

"You're getting it!" Jak exclaimed with a wide grin. "Want to go again?"

Denil didn't wait for Jak's advance this time. Instead he stepped forward and grabbed Jak's arm, jamming his hip against him for leverage before attempting to sweep Jak's feet out from under him.

A moment later Denil was again bouncing on his back, trying to work out why the world had suddenly spun dizzyingly.

"Nice try," Jak said.

Denil rolled to his feet, proudly noting that he had landed well even though he hadn't been expecting to get thrown. They tried several more times and Jak's lessons, at least the parts on landing, began to sink in to the instinctual level. The grins Jak gave him each time he helped Denil up were tinged with pride and it made something inside Denil shiver each time.

"Last time," Jak said. "Really go for it this time - if you can get me off my feet I'll buy you a drink."

Denil steadied himself and made sure his footing was secure. "Deal."

For a moment he thought that he had finally done it when he felt Jak's weight shift under his sudden attack, but then the world tilted and he bounced on the bed again. Jak stood over him, smirking offensively.

"The innkeeper's got a good bottle of brandy in his cellar," Jak said casually.

Denil wasn't ready to admit defeat yet. He tangled his legs between Jak's, tugged hard and was rewarded with the sight of Jak landing hard on his back and bouncing a couple of times. When he knelt up over Jak, the comically shocked expression on his face was enough to make Denil chuckle.

"Thanks for the drink," he said, trying to stifle his laughter.

"You think this is funny? I'll show you funny."

Denil was suddenly on his back with Jak kneeling over him and a moment later Jak began to tickle him. Somehow, in the space of a couple of breaths, Jak managed to find every ticklish spot on Denil's body and rendered him helpless with laughter. His ribs soon began to ache and still Jak continued. Denil weakly tried to protest but Jak just grinned evilly and continued.

"Please...stop," Denil protested breathlessly.

Jak finally took pity on him and stopped the torture. Denil lay still for a moment, catching his breath and working out his revenge.

"Yield?" Jak asked.

Denil surged up, pushed against Jak's chest, and a moment later Jak was on his back with Denil straddling his thighs and both wrists held against the mattress. Denil felt Jak testing his grip but he held firm, although he knew that Jak could probably break it if he really tried. He stopped trying after a few breaths and lay on his back grinning up at Denil. The scholar suddenly felt breathless.

"You should do that more often," Jak said softly.

"I should do what?"

"Laugh. It's a good look on you."

Denil stared down into Jak's face. He was close enough that he could see the fine lines at the corners of Jak's brown eyes and a small scar cutting across his eyebrow suddenly caught his attention. He hadn't been close enough to notice it before and he released Jak's wrist to touch it before he could stop himself.

"Denil?"

Jak's lowered lip was fuller than his top lip. Should he be finding that so fascinating? Denil suddenly had an insane urge to lean down and kiss Jak. It was so strong and so completely unexpected that the breath caught in his throat. He moved down a couple of inches and flicked his eyes up to meet Jak's. The heat in Jak's eyes made Denil aware of what he was doing, of the line he was about to cross, and he jerked back. Hoping that his embarrassment didn't show on his face, he quickly moved away from Jak and rolled off the bed.

"I have to go," he said abruptly, refusing to look at Jak.

"Denil-"

"Sorry, I - there's...Sai'em...it's late," he stuttered. "Thanks for the lessons."

Without looking at Jak, Denil stumbled out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He leaned against it and closed his eyes, allowing a small sigh to escape.

"Denil?"

He jumped and whirled to face Sai'em. She was standing a couple of feet away with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "Did Jak-"

"No!" Denil exclaimed. He cleared his throat and in a calmer voice said, "He didn't do anything. It was me."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

It was tempting. Denil had always confided in Sai'em. She was like a best friend and older sister rolled up into one occasionally confusing person. She had also been Sharra's mentor and something in Denil rejected the idea of talking to her. What was there to say? He was having unexpected feelings for someone who was as different from Sharra as night was from day. No, talking to Sai'em about this wasn't something Denil wanted to do.

"It's not really something you can help with," he said, trying to find a way to put her off without worrying or hurting her. "It's something I have to deal with."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Really."

Sai'em sighed. "I'm here if you need to talk to someone."

"I know." Denil pushed away from the door and began walking towards the staircase. "The innkeeper has a stones board. Would you like a game?"

She fell into step with him. "Usual stakes?"

"Why don't we up it to three coppers for each piece and a silver for the game?"

"Someone's feeling confident."

"Too rich for you?"

"Never. Just remember - pride cometh before a fall."

Jak lay on his back with his forearm resting over his eyes. He had run through his collection of curses twice and none of it was helping.

"Great move, Kern," he muttered. "Practically pounce on the man - that will keep things cool really well. For crying out loud, you were all over him. Note for the future - offering to do anything with full-body contact is a very stupid idea."

The cursing and castigation were no use; each time Jak closed his eyes he saw Denil's face above him and that expression that just for a moment had looked like Denil was going to kiss him.

Neither man mentioned the incident again. Denil spent most of the afternoon alone in the private sitting room writing in his journal, trying to work out where his sudden and possibly insane urges had come from. Wanting to kiss Jak - wanting to kiss anyone after Sharra - wasn't something he had expected or thought he needed. He'd been perfectly content with his life the way it had been. It had been quiet and tranquil, with no surprises and no emotions sneaking up to ambush him. Now his life was suddenly chaotic and unsettling again.

Denil capped his pen and stared into the distance. Did he want to feel that way again? It terrified him, yet at the same time it excited him. It was as though he had spent the past five years in a grey, safe world and now the veil was lifting and he felt alive again. When had he made the decision to allow that to happen?

He answered that question for himself. It was at the same time that he had allowed Jak to pull him out of his safe world in the university and forced him to live in the real world again.

Supper was quiet and strained and Denil didn't linger afterwards. Jak didn't look at him as Denil made his goodnights and went to the bedroom. He spent a while trying to concentrate on a book before giving up and blowing out the candles, leaving the fire in the hearth as the room's only illumination. Sleep didn't come quickly and he lay awake staring at the dancing shadows on the ceiling for hours before he heard footsteps in the hallway outside. He rolled onto his side and feigned sleep as the door creaked open.

There was a loud thump and a moment later muffled, slurred curses. Jak stumbled around the room for a few minutes before Denil felt the bed dip and the smell of strong brandy wafted over him. Obviously Jak had used the past few hours to work his way through the innkeeper's cellar. Denil wanted to turn over and ask Jak what had happened to make him get drunk but he thought better of the idea. It didn't take long for Jak's drunken snores to fill the room but Denil lay awake until an hour before dawn.

When Jak woke him up with a cup of tea, Denil looked into his eyes and tried to gauge what he was feeling, but Jak's face unreadable. There were dark circles under Jak's eyes and he winced when Denil cleared his throat noisily. Denil wanted to offer sympathy for the hangover but the blank look in Jak's eyes discouraged it. The storm had blown itself out overnight so Jak gave him curt instructions to meet him in the stables before leaving the room. This was one morning when Denil would have given a great deal for a few more hours of sleep and a chance to talk to Jak, but instead he sipped his tea and forced his body to wake up.

Snow was piled three feet deep either side of the road but its strange surface was clear. Denil followed Jak with Sai'em riding behind him, for once not reaching into his pack for a book as soon as they left the town. His eyes felt gritty and sore and he kept drifting off into a dazed half-trance from sheer exhaustion. He had seen his face reflected in the water in the washstand earlier so he knew that he only looked marginally better than Jak. Sai'em kept shooting him worried glances and he could feel her eyes burning into his back as he rode.

The day passed slowly and silently. It was long after sunset when Jak finally led them to a small village off the road and stopped in front of an inn. Denil was almost shaking with cold and exhaustion by then and the ugly, misshapen building looked like heaven in the dark. They left the horses with a groom and Sai'em lightly squeezed Denil's hand as she brushed past him on her way into the inn. It was her quiet way of letting him know that she was there if he needed her and a small amount of warmth seeped in at the gesture.

Jak was already negotiating with the innkeeper when Denil approached. He didn't pay any attentions to the arrangements and only noticed that something was odd when the maid led him to a room two down from the room Jak was already closing a door on. For a moment he hesitated and opened his mouth to ask what was going on before shaking his head tiredly and following her to his room. He ignored her puzzled look and dumped his pack on the bed.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked, pausing at the door.

Denil looked around the stark, ugly room. A bed and a washstand were the only furniture, something that had never mattered before but suddenly made him feel very lonely. The thought of going back to the common room and eating in a room of strangers only made the feeling worse.

"Can you bring me some food?" he asked.

The girl nodded and disappeared. She returned quickly and Denil gave her a few coppers, putting her out gently but firmly when she hinted that a few more coppers would buy her company for the night. He ate quickly, barely tasting the watery stew, and crawled into bed to try and sleep.

Hours later Denil was still awake, lying on his side facing the window so that he could see the stars outside. The room felt too empty. There was no quiet breathing next to him and no rustles as another body moved. Jak wasn't there to pester him about still being awake and talk to him until he felt sleepy. The depth of his loneliness terrified Denil. He hadn't felt this adrift since Sharra's death. He hadn't been this dependent on anyone since he lost her and it made him realise yet again that his safe, sensible world was slowly fading away.

A quiet scratching sound came through the door and Denil turned his head towards it. A moment later it slowly opened and the moonlight reflected off Jak's silvering hair as he cautiously looked around it.

"What's wrong?" Denil asked, his heart rate picking up suddenly.

A barely audible sigh reached his ears. "I was hoping you were asleep."

Denil sat up, pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither." Jak hesitated. "Mind if I come in?"

"No," Denil said without stopping to think about it.

"'No' you don't mind, or 'no' I can't come in?" Jak asked.

Denil shook his head and sternly told himself not to smile at the man who had ignored him for over a day. "Just get in here."

This probably rated as one of his stupider ideas, Jak told himself as he crossed the room and stood uncertainly by the bed. Denil shifted over a little and Jak gingerly sat down on the edge. He still managed to be close enough for Denil's feet to press against his thigh but it would be too obvious to move away.

How do you apologise for getting drunk and ignoring someone for something that wasn't their fault? A part of Jak wanted to blame Denil for being something he hadn't expected but that wasn't fair to him and most of the time Jak tried to be a fair man. Fairness didn't necessarily equate to honesty and he had already decided that was a compromise he'd have to make. He had stood outside the door for a long time before making a move and, even when he was scratching at the door, he had been praying that Denil would still be asleep.

Of course, he should have known that he wouldn't have that kind of luck. Denil never seemed to do what he was supposed to or what was expected. Jak was slowly learning that it was impossible to predict the man.

"Jak, I-"

He held up a finger and Denil stopped with an audible click as his teeth snapped together.

"I'm sorry," Jak said uncomfortably.

"You are? What for?" The puzzled look on Denil's face was completely genuine and Jak briefly wondered what the scholar had been anticipating.

"I was selfish last night," he said. "I shouldn't have got drunk like that. I shouldn't have ignored you all day. I was an insensitive ass."

"Oh."

There was definitely something else going on in there but Jak couldn't put his finger on it.

Instead he pressed on with his planned apology. "Sometimes I'm not a nice person to be around and this has been one of those times. Forgive me?"

"For being an ass?" Denil asked dazedly.

Jak shrugged. "If you want to put it that way."

"You were the one who brought it up."

"I guess."

He glanced at Denil hopefully. Emotions were passing across his face too fast to make out and Jak held his breath.

"I forgive you this time," Denil said eventually.

Jak released his breath. "Thank you."

"Just give me a hint the next time you feel like being an ass."

"Deal."

A knot of tension lifted that Jak hadn't even known was there. He could see that there was still something troubling Denil; it was in his eyes, and he couldn't ignore it.

"Are you alright?" Jak asked.

A lightning quick smile crossed Denil's face. "I'm fine."

"Then why are you still awake?"

Denil's eyes suddenly shifted away, tracking across the entire room before returning to Jak. "It was too quiet."

"Quiet?"

Denil shifted uncomfortably. "I got used to having someone else in here. I kept expecting to hear you."

"I make that much noise?"

"No, but it was something I got used to." Another lightning smile. "You're still awake, too."

"I was contemplating what an ass I've been and trying to decide whether I could fix it." A raised eyebrow forced Jak to add, "It might have been a little quiet in over in my room, too. Just don't go spreading it around."

"Oh, I have no intention of doing that."

"So we're good now, right?" Jak asked, trying to decipher Denil's expression.

"We're good," Denil agreed.

"I should probably . . ." Jak gestured towards the door. "It's late and you're tired."

Denil nodded. "Sounds good."

Jak stood. "Well, goodnight then."

"Goodnight."

Jak was out in the corridor before he realised that Denil hadn't asked him what had prompted his attack of nasty behaviour. He had fully expected a grilling on it. Denil didn't seem the type to just let like something that go, but he had almost seemed relieved that Jak hadn't explained. In fact, he hadn't really answered why he was awake either and that made Jak wonder.

The curiosity only lasted until the moment Jak's head hit his pillow because he immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

The following evening Jak requested two rooms for the group even though the nearly deserted common room clearly suggested that there would be enough for one each. He caught the surprised look on Denil's face out of the corner of his eye. When he looked again as they followed a serving lad to their room, that expression had been replaced by something that wasn't quite a smile, but made Jak's stomach clench anyway.

On the morning of the fourteenth day out of Eto, Denil was surprised when Jak dropped back to ride beside him as soon as the town they had stayed in disappeared behind them. A moment later, Sai'em joined them on his other side.

"He talked to you, too?" Jak asked.

Sai'em nodded.

"Talked to you about what?" Denil asked curiously.

"The innkeeper warned me about a gang of bandits operating along this section of the road," Sai'em said.

"They've robbed two groups in the past month," Jak added. "Three deaths."

Denil looked around the featureless white landscape. "Bandits? They'd have to be mad or desperate to operate in these conditions."

Sai'em and Jak exchanged knowing looks over the withers of Denil's horse. For some reason, that irritated him. So they thought he wouldn't understand, did they? Their greater experience made them sudden allies against the clueless linguist, did it? Denil didn't notice that this was the first time they had communicated anything other than their mutual distrust, focusing instead on his resentment at what their look had implied.

"If anything happens, you stay between us," Jak said, looking at Denil significantly. "We'll try to hold them off and get us out of there. If they're as inexperienced as the innkeeper hinted, we shouldn't have too much trouble. He said that the other victims didn't have any seasoned fighters with them."

"I can defend myself," Denil said stiffly.

Sai'em winced. "I know. It's that you're, uh-"

"Valuable," Jak said. "If I lose you, I lose my last lead."

Denil caught the look of intense curiosity on Sai'em's face and remembered that Jak still hadn't told her why he needed a translator so urgently. He resolved to talk to Jak about that as soon as he had a chance. For a moment he hovered on the edge of losing his irritation with them before he remembered that if he let them get away with treating him this way once, it would just happen again and again.

"You taught me to defend myself," he said, looking at Sai'em and then turning to Jak. "And you admitted that I was pretty good."

"It only takes one lucky blow to kill you," Jak said bluntly. "I am not risking that."

"Neither am I," Sai'em added.

Denil looked between them, appraising their sincerity and trying to guess their motives. They both showed only genuine concern and Denil allowed himself to be convinced. He released the anger he had briefly felt and smiled.

"I overreacted," he said apologetically.

Jak rolled his eyes. "Y'think?"

Denil suppressed another surge of irritation. "Sorry."

Jak grunted and Sai'em offered a contrite smile.

"I know how that probably sounded," she said. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Same here," Jak said. "I got a little protective."

The way he said it made Denil think that Jak wasn't just worrying about his last lead to his son, but also about a person he was starting to care about. It chased away the last shred of annoyance and Denil had to work hard to keep a smile off his face.

Nothing had happened by early afternoon and Jak was beginning to wonder whether the innkeeper had been wrong about the gang still being in the area when he saw something on the road ahead. He squinted and was able to make out several black dots moving around a larger dark blob. He held up a hand and dropped back to ride next to Denil, waiting a moment for Sai'em to join them on Denil's other side before speaking.

"There's something on the road ahead," he said quietly. "I think it might be a barrier of some kind."

Sai'em frowned as she squinted down the road. "You think they'll demand a toll?"

Jak shrugged. "It's a classic scam."

The snow piled three feet deep on either side of the road made Jak reluctant to leave the road's protection. The horses would quickly be exhausted if they had to slog through that and there was no knowing what lurked beneath the pristine whiteness. An unexpected ditch or rabbit hole could easily lame a horse or, worse yet, break its leg. Jak didn't want to think about how difficult it would be to find anyone willing to sell a horse at this time of year if they needed a replacement.

"What are we going to do?" Denil asked.

Jak scanned the barrier and the milling bandits. "We could rush them, try to jump it."

Denil shook his head. "Even if we made it, could Iyani?"

Jak glanced back at the packhorse plodding patiently behind Sai'em, her leading rein attached to a hook on the elf's saddle. Iyani was good enough as a packhorse but he seriously doubted that she could successfully jump a five-foot high barrier. Although he could cope without the extra supplies and clothing strapped to her, Denil's pack of books could not be left behind. The scholar would need them to translate the text in Genta and that meant that Iyani had to come with them.

"I guess we're fighting then," Jak said with a sigh. "Get ready and stay alert."

He loosened his sword in its scabbard and saw Denil pulling the stubby length of his staff off his belt. He wasn't sure how useful that would be from the back of a horse, but if Jak and Sai'em could protect him then hopefully they wouldn't have to find out. Sai'em took her bow off her back and tested the string before pulling out an arrow and notching it, although she didn't draw. As they drew within earshot, one of the bandits stepped forward. There were only four horses between the twelve men and all of them were armed with an assortment of swords and axes.

In a belligerent voice, the spokesman shouted, "Halt!"

Jak and his companions kept walking steadily forwards.

"Pay the road tax or you won't pass," the spokesman continued.

He had a nasty scar running from his hairline to his chin, red and raw, that narrowly missed his eye. Jak took an immediate dislike to the man, not just because he was delaying them but also because he had an air of seedy unpleasantness that set his teeth on edge. It was the same feeling he had got from the child-molester years ago and Jak promised himself that if he were given any reason, the man would die.

"There is no tax on this road," Denil said in his quiet voice, so at odds with Scarface's crude, surly one. "It is free for anyone to use, granted so in treaties going back over a thousand years."

Scarface's grin was cruel. "The King's guards aren't here so it's up to us to make the law, and I say that you'll pay the tax. Your horses and those interesting packs should do nicely."

Jak hid his grin inside. If Scarface had had any intelligence, he would have known that the nimoriel staff in Denil's hand was worth a small kingdom's treasury.

"We aren't paying your tax," was all that Jak said.

Scarface's grin widened. "I was sort of hoping you'd say that. Boys?"

Jak allowed a feral grin to cross his face as the bandits foolishly rushed towards him. A quiet twang sounded and a moment later the nearest bandit's throat sprouted arrow fletching. After that Jak was too busy fighting to notice more than a vague awareness of where his companions and the barrier were.

For the first couple of minutes of the fight Denil was left alone, giving him time to watch his companions. Sai'em was calmly picking off bandits with deadly accuracy until a particularly large thug on foot began swinging an axe at her. Denil lost track of that fight, distracted by a loud howl to his left. He turned in time to see Jak kicking a body off his sword. There wasn't time to feel sick at the sight; something tugged hard at his leg and he had to grab the saddle horn to stay on. He looked down into a cruelly grinning face.

Working on instinct, Denil kicked out and felt a crunch as his foot impacted solidly. The bandit fell back onto the road clutching at his face as blood ran through his fingers from his nose. There was no time after that to watch his companions. He extended his staff to half-length and used it as like a dulled sword to fend off blows from swords and axes. Another thief tried to pull him from his horse and Denil clubbed him over the head before he even had time to consider his actions.

Fighting had never been something that came naturally to Denil but, faced with a choice between killing and being killed, he did what he had to. It was a relief when he finally heard Jak's voice yelling for them to move out. He glanced at the barrier that the bandits had erected, saw that it was now no more than bits of wood strewn across the road, and took the chance that they had been offered. His horse was reacting skittishly to the unaccustomed smell of blood but he managed to haul her around and kick her into a run down the road. He felt a dull pain in his upper right arm as though he had been punched but ignored it to concentrate on staying on the horse.

Hooves clattered on the road behind and he risked a glance back to see Jak and Sai'em bent low over their horses as they galloped after him. There was no sign of pursuit but Denil didn't slow until his horse's breathing became laboured. He pulled back on the reins and the chestnut mare gratefully slowed to a walk.

"That was bracing," Jak remarked as he slowed to ride next to Denil.

Sai'em's horse looked like it could have run another few miles but the packhorse behind her was lathered and wild-eyed.

"Should we have stopped to help the injured?" Denil asked.

"No," Jak said. "They'll be fine. I saw a couple of lookouts riding towards them as we left. They'll take what's left and hopefully skedaddle if they have any sense."

"Oh," Denil said faintly.

Something cold and wet landed on his cheek and Denil looked up at the sky for a moment, puzzled about what it could be. His mind felt foggy and clouded and there was a loud buzzing sound that kept derailing his thoughts. A few more snowflakes fell from the grey clouds above.

"Uh, Denil?" Jak asked.

Denil shook his head to try to clear it. His thoughts kept whirling around his head without stopping long enough to examine. He took a couple of deep breaths and some of the fogginess cleared. The buzzing in his head wasn't just the rush of excitement and fear from the fight.

"A storm's coming," Denil said.

"Really?" Jak said sarcastically as a strong gust of wind blew snow into his face. "I would never have guessed."

"Commander," Sai'em said sharply, glaring at him.

The tips of Jak's ears turned pink.

"I'm sorry," Denil said, feeling slightly sick. "I missed it."

Jak shrugged. "It's not your fault. Next town is a couple of miles away - think we can make it?"

Denil patted his weary horse's neck. "We'll have to."

The horses were exhausted but the group managed to get them into a reluctant trot. Denil winced as an unwise movement made something tug painfully in his arm. He started to reach for the spot but found that he was still gripping his staff in the other hand. There was a patch of wetness staining the dark wood and his stomach lurched uncomfortably as he realised that it was blood. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Jak and Sai'em had both sheathed their swords and wondered how they had cleaned them. Denil's only choice was to wipe the sticky blood onto his riding breeches before he reduced the staff and hung it on his belt. That allowed him to take a better grip on his reins and ease the tension in his injured arm, which was now beginning to ache fiercely.

The horses seemed to instinctively know where the road was. The snow was falling so hard now that Denil could barely see the ground beneath him. Jak and Sai'em were only dark bulks riding next to him. The town appeared suddenly out of the thickly falling snow. A large, dark shape loomed above them and Denil's horse came to an abrupt halt. After a moment he worked out that it was the closed gates of the town's walls. That was unusual; so far, any walled towns had left their gates flung wide with only a minimal guard. When Denil remembered the bandits they had left a few miles behind, though, the barred gate didn't seem quite so strange.

Jak used the hilt of his dagger to knock loudly on the wooden gate until the keeper opened a small door next to it and peered through. After a short, heated discussion that involved a great deal of gesturing at the snow, the gatekeeper grudgingly opened the gates and allowed them through. Denil followed the barely visible dark shape of Jak and his horse, turning when they did and hoping he wouldn't lose them. He didn't notice that they were in an inn courtyard until they stopped and a door opened nearby, allowing light to spill out with the smell of roasting beef. Denil's stomach lurched uncomfortably again at the rich scent. He felt someone tap his thigh and barely stopped himself kicking out.

"Are you alright?" Jak asked.

The other man's hair was thickly dusted with snow and Denil distractedly noticed that it seemed to blend with the grey and silver already there.

"Denil?"

He shook his head and Jak's face swam dizzyingly in front of him,

"Do you need a hand?"

Denil slowly freed a foot from its stirrup and dismounted. As his feet touched the ground, his knees buckled and he stumbled until strong arms wrapped around his waist and held him up.

"I've got you," Jak said softly. "I guess you're not used to fights like that, huh?"

With an effort, Denil straightened and forced his legs to take his weight. "I guess not."

"We'd better get inside. Sai'em is getting some rooms."

Denil was reluctant to accept help but a couple of steps showed that his legs were still too shaky to support him properly so he allowed Jak to put an arm around his waist to support him. The common room seemed hot and noisy after the quiet snow outside and Denil squinted to shut out some of the light. He let Jak lead him to the counter where he had to lean for a moment while his friend counted money out of a pouch. Sai'em touched her cold fingers to his cheek and he flinched.

"You're as white as a sheet," she said.

"I'm fine," Denil said, surprised by how weak his voice sounded.

Sai'em's eyes darkened with concern and the buzzing in Denil's ears grew louder. Jak turned back to them and Denil frowned as he noticed a dark patch on the worn leather of his coat.

"Bleeding?" he asked.

Jak glanced down at his coat and raised a hand to touch the patch. "It's not mine."

The burning pain in Denil's arm suddenly stabbed sharply and he put a hand to it, surprised to find that his hand came away stained red.

"Me?" he asked, wondering why Jak had suddenly begun to sway.

He felt strong arms around his waist again and realised with an odd sense of disconnection that he was the one who was swaying.

"We'd better get him upstairs," Sai'em said.

It was difficult to focus on what was going on around him. The dizziness and buzzing made everything around him seem unreal, even the pain in his arm. He was vaguely aware of being helped up some stairs and down a corridor. His feet barely seemed to touch the ground and didn't seem to be doing what he told them. Then he was stopping and someone held him up while someone else unbuttoned his coat. He knew, somewhere, that Jak and Sai'em were talking but he couldn't make out what they were saying over the loud droning in his ears. The pain in his arm throbbed harder as someone peeled away his coat and jacket. Strong hands urged him down and he gratefully let his legs unlock.

The noise and dizziness receded and he became aware of lying on a bed. Denil blinked hard and forced his eyes to focus. Jak stood over him holding a knife but he couldn't be afraid and a moment later he felt the cool metal brush his arm as Jak carefully slit his shirtsleeve. Denil craned his neck to look down at his arm. The shirt was soaked with blood and as it fell away he could see a long cut still oozing blood running most of the length of his bicep.

"Sorry, guys, I didn't know," he apologised in a weak voice.

"Don't worry about it, we'll have you patched up in no time," Jak said reassuringly.

"You're putting a patch on it?" Denil's brain caught up with his mouth. "Sorry, blood-loss."

Jak grinned down at Denil, who was staring up with the glazed, fuzzy expression of a man who knows that he's not in control but doesn't want anyone else to know. Denil smiled vaguely and looked down at his bloodied arm again. It wasn't surprising that he was feeling dizzy. Judging by the blood soaking his coat, jacket and shirt, the scholar had been bleeding heavily for a while. Jak bent to examine the cut more closely. He carefully felt the edges, wincing as he heard Denil's sharp gasp, and decided that although it was long and deep there would be no lasting damage apart from a nasty scar. Sai'em shouldered him aside to examine Denil at that point so he took a seat on the edge of the bed, absently resting a hand on Denil's calf. Part of him wanted to curse the man for not letting them know that he was injured but the more rational part squashed that urge for the moment.

Sai'em straightened and looked at him. "It's going to require stitching."

Jak nodded. "That's what I thought."

"Can you sew?"

"Better than some of the quacks that have worked on me."

Sai'em walked over to the washstand and poured water into the basin to wash the blood off her hands. "Denil has a kit in his pack, or at least he used to. I'll find it - can you get some hot water?"

Jak squeezed Denil's leg. "Be back in a minute."

It didn't take long to get a basin of steaming water from the kitchen. The innkeeper offered to send someone for the town apothecary but Jak thanked him and declined as politely as he could. When he got back to the bedroom most of the contents of Denil's clothes pack were scattered over the bed and Sai'em was emptying a leather bag onto a small desk tucked in the corner. Rolls of bandages, small pots and a number of linen pouches tumbled out. Jak set the basin on the floor next to the bed and soaked one of the bandages in the hot water so he could clean the long gash. Denil opened his eyes and turned his head towards Jak. A brilliant smile lit up his face for a moment before it turned into a wince and a harsh gasp as Jak cleaned some of the dried blood away from the wound.

"Sorry," Jak apologised quietly.

Denil grimaced. "It's alright. Has to be done."

Jak dropped the bloody bandage on the floor and checked the cut again. It was still oozing blood slowly but there didn't seem to be any dirt in it.

"I'm going to have to sew this," Jak said.

"I know." A small smile tugged at the corners of Denil's mouth. "Don't let Sai'em do it - she couldn't sew to save her life."

Jak patted his shoulder. "I know you're not dying if you can make jokes."

"Who said I was joking?"

Sai'em handed Jak a threaded needle and moved to kneel on the bed next to Denil. "Is there anything you can take for the pain?"

"Nothing I want to take," Denil said. "The poppy-juice knocks me out for hours. Hate that stuff."

"This is going to hurt," Jak warned.

"Just get on with it and stop talking."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jak noted that Sai'em had taken a firm grip on Denil to hold him steady. Jak was more concerned with making sure that his stitches were as neat and even as he could make them. As the needle pierced Denil's skin the first time Jak heard a strangled grunt and look up. Denil was clenching his jaw tightly and nodded jerkily for Jak to continue. Occasional quiet grunts were the only indications that Denil was in pain. Jak found himself becoming more impressed with every minute at the scholar's white-faced determination. He carefully stitched the wound closed, making sure that the edges met neatly and evenly. There was a puckered scar on Jak's thigh from a half-trained healer who hadn't been as careful.

When the sewing was over Jak carefully wiped the blood away with a clean bandage.

"Almost finished now," he said reassuringly.

"Thank you," Denil said, his voice sounding stronger than it had a few minutes ago.

Sai'em handed Jak a small pot and he opened it to sniff cautiously. The sharp scent of marigolds mingled with something faintly spicy hit his nose. He smeared a dollop carefully over the wound to prevent infection and then wrapped and pinned a clean bandage around Denil's arm.

"It's done," Jak announced, straightening and rubbing his cramped neck. "That shirt is ruined, though."

Denil looked down at it. "A little soap, some thread - it'll be fine."

Sai'em knelt back on her heels and cleared her throat hesitantly. "Do you mind if I try something?"

Denil's brow furrowed in a frown. "What kind of something?"

"Something that might help you," Sai'em said.

If it had been Jak's choice he would have been yelling 'hell no'.

It wasn't his choice. Denil nodded and Sai'em leaned forwards to place both hands on Denil's chest over his heart. After a moment she huffed irritably and pulled a knife off her belt.

Fingering his ruined shirt and holding the knife she asked, "Do you mind?"

Denil sighed tiredly. "Might as well."

Sai'em carefully cut the shirt away and tossed it on the floor. It was a measure of Jak's concern for his friend that he barely paid any attention to the bare chest that was exposed. Instead, he watched as Sai'em again rested her hands over Denil's heart and closed her eyes. A faint light seemed to flicker beneath her hands and there was an electric hum in the air. A quiet gasp escaped Denil's lips and Jak's eyes were drawn to his face. The scholar's eyes were closed but a small amount of colour seemed to be returned to his cheeks. As Jak watched, the faint pain lines around his eyes and mouth smoothed out and his breathing deepened into the regular pattern of sleep.

Sai'em removed her hands from Denil's chest. "That's all I can do."

"What was that?" Jak whispered.

Sai'em shrugged and began gathering up discarded bandages and pots of salve. "I encouraged his body to heal a bit faster. It's not really my strong point but he should sleep for a few hours."

Over the past couple of weeks Jak had gained the impression that Sai'em didn't like to use her magic. He looked at the sleeping man on the bed and admitted that if there was anyone worth changing personal rules for, it was Denil.

When Denil woke up the room was in darkness. He blinked a couple of times before regretfully concluding that the darkness was complete. It had been late afternoon when they arrived at the inn so he guessed that he had been asleep for a few hours. He experimentally tried to sit up and the sudden pain in his arm persuaded him that getting injured during a fight with bandits hadn't been a dream. The last thing he could remember was Sai'em asking whether she could try something and after that his memory was blank. His head was clearer than it had been a few hours ago and the buzzing in his ears was now gone so he had to assume that she had done something magical. The thought made him vaguely queasy so he pushed it aside.

A careful inventory revealed a neat bandage on his arm, no shirt or boots and a blanket draped over his legs. Denil pulled the blanket up to his shoulders and silently wished for someone to come along and get the fire started. Some candles or lamps would be welcome, too.

Denil lay in the darkness for a while feeling increasingly bored and restless. He was again struggling to sit up when the bedroom door opened, allowing a widening sliver of yellow light in. Warms hands were suddenly on his back helping him up.

"You're meant to be asleep," Jak muttered.

"I woke up."

Denil felt Jak rearranging pillows behind him and then he was being urged back to rest propped against them. He involuntarily shivered when Jak's hands left his skin.

"Cold?"

It was a convenient excuse so Denil nodded, remembered that Jak might not be able to see him in the dim light, and mumbled, "Yes."

He heard Jak move across the room and then the distinctive sound of flint striking steel. Within a few minutes there was a respectable blaze going in the hearth and the room began to warm up. Denil watched Jak use a taper to light the room's lamps, his eyes irresistibly drawn to follow him even he knew it wasn't a good idea. When Jak blew the taper out and turned back to him, Denil dropped his eyes to the blanket and nervously tried to pull it higher. All that achieved was to pull the end off his feet. He heard a quiet chuckle from Jak's direction.

"Need a hand?"

Denil nodded.

"Scoot over," Jak instructed.

With a little help, Denil managed to get under the sheets and blankets and Jak folded the extra blanket and laid it on the end of the bed.

"Can you get me a shirt?" Denil asked.

Pulling a shirt over his head was painful but with some help he managed and lay back panting. He felt the bed dip as Jak sat on the edge and had to open his eyes. Jak was looking at him with poorly concealed annoyance.

"What's wrong?" Denil asked.

Jak's words were slow and carefully enunciated. "If you get injured, you tell someone. You do not wait until it's convenient or ignore it. You could have died out there today."

Taken aback, Denil had to try a couple of times before he could get any words out. "I'm sorry?"

"I hope you are."

"What?"

"You could have died."

"I didn't."

Jak glared. "No thanks to you. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about running - an idea, by the way, that was yours. Then there was the storm. There wasn't time to think about anything else."

"All you had to do was say, 'I think I'm hurt'."

"I didn't notice it!"

"How could you not notice a big bleeding gash on your arm?"

"I don't know!"

Jak ran a hand through his hair as he visibly tried to calm down. Denil couldn't help noting that the dishevelled look was incredibly attractive. He mentally kicked himself for losing focus during an argument.

"I'm sorry," Jak said. "You just...scared me. You're important. I need you, and I could have lost you."

"I'll help you to find your son," Denil said, swallowing something that felt a lot like hurt. "I'm sorry that I scared you."

Jak shrugged and stood up. "Just say something if it happens again."

"I will." As Jak turned away, Denil remember the promise he had made to himself. "Would you do something for me?"

"What?"

"Tell Sai'em why we're doing this."

"I made a promise not to."

"You can trust her." Denil offered a hopeful smile. "She won't tell the wizards that you told her. It would help, though. She knows you're not telling her the whole truth and that makes her suspicious of your motives. Wizards don't have a great reputation and, as far she's concerned, you're working for them."

"I'll think about it."

"Thank you."

"I'll get you something to eat," Jak said gruffly. At the door he paused and, without turning around, said, "I wasn't just worried about my son."

Then he was gone, leaving Denil to stare at the door while he absorbed the words. After a few breathless moments, a smile slowly spread across Denil's face.

"How much further is it to Genta?" Denil asked as he watched Jak move around the room preparing for bed.

He knew that he was feeling better than he should do after the amount of blood he had lost. Sai'em had obviously done something to him. She had come in to check on him while he was eating soup with Jak and seemed pleased. He was slightly worried that she had used magic after years of telling him that she didn't like to, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Denil had still been slightly light-headed when Jak helped him down the corridor to the privy but it was nowhere close to what he had been feeling earlier. He felt awake and oddly restless now.

Jak's voice dragged him out of his musings. "Depending on the weather it should only be another few days, maybe a week. We'll leave the North Road at the border and take the Genta Road, It won't be quite so easy for the horses and that's going to slow us down."

"We've been pretty lucky so far," Denil commented.

Jak paused in the act of folding a shirt and raised an eyebrow. "Lucky?"

A sharp twinge in his arm reminded Denil that they hadn't come through entirely unscathed. "Lucky with the conditions."

Shrugging, Jak finished folding the shirt. "I guess so. If you don't count two major blizzards in two weeks."

"There have been storm fronts piled up in front of us the whole way. We've been lucky not to lose more days than we have."

"Whatever the hell those wizards were up to, I hope it was worth it," Jak said irritably.

He moved around the room turning the lamps down until only the one above the bed provided any light and threw a couple of logs onto the crackling fire. Denil ignored the slight flutter in his stomach as Jak slid into bed next to him. It was probably just a side effect of the blood loss.

"How's your arm?" Jak asked, turning on his side to face Denil.

The scholar carefully slid down so that he was lying flat and turned his head towards Jak. "It's fine."

"Really?"

"Actually no, but if I keep telling myself that it's fine then eventually it will be."

"Interesting philosophy."

"It's better than taking poppy-juice and being out for hours."

"You really don't like that stuff, do you?"

"It's easy to get addicted to it. I watched one of my teachers go through that and it put me off for life."

"I can understand that," Jak said softly.

Denil took a deep breath and tried to think of a way to change the subject. "Why did you leave Wolf Company?"

"What?"

"I'm curious. You sounded as though you missed it when you talked about it, so why did you leave?"

"Why are you so curious about me?"

Denil winced self-consciously. "I don't know. I guess that I like to know something about the person I'm sharing a bed with. You know everything there is to know about me-"

"I hardly think that. I could probably know you for a hundred years and still get surprised."

It suddenly became difficult to breathe and Denil had to swallow twice before he could get his voice to work again. Jak looked uncharacteristically shy, as though he had let something slip that he hadn't meant to and wasn't sure how Denil would react.

"That's - that's probably the nicest compliment anyone's ever given me," Denil said eventually.

"It wasn't really a compliment."

The gruff voice and the way Jak's eyes refused to meet his told Denil that it probably was.

"Wolf Company?" he prompted when Jak didn't look like he would say anything more.

"Wolf Company," Jak repeated. "I left when I met my wife."

There was an awful moment when Denil thought his heart had stopped and someone had punched him in the gut. Wife? Jak was married? Somehow that possibility had never entered Denil's mind. As his heart restarted and his mind began processing again, Denil had to ask himself why he hadn't thought about Charry's mother before. Wishful thinking? Jak had a son so obviously there had to have been a woman. Denil had been so caught up in his own feelings that he hadn't even thought about that.

"Your wife?" he asked weakly.

There was a long pause before Jak answered. "My wife. She died a few months after Charry was born."

A wave of sick guilt flooded through Denil as he realised that, for just a moment, he had been glad that the faceless woman Jak had married was dead. He'd never thought of himself as malicious or jealous before. It was unsettling to find out that he could be.

Denil swallow and reminded himself that this was about Jak, not him, and Jak had obviously cared about the woman enough to marry her.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"It's not your fault," Jak said flatly.

"I meant that I know what it's like to lose someone like that," he explained. "The pain never goes away."

A faint frown furrowed Jak's brown. "We weren't like you and Sharra. I cared about Anaya, but I wasn't in love with her. It was just convenient for both of us."

"You didn't love her?"

"Not the way that you loved Sharra."

"Oh," Denil said, hoping he didn't sound as disapproving as he thought he did.

"People get married for all sorts of reasons, not just because they're in love."

Denil shot Jak a withering look. "I'm not naïve. I know that."

"You just didn't expect that from me?"

"No, I didn't," Denil said honestly.

"I think I'm flattered."

He shrugged awkwardly.

"It probably isn't what you're imagining," Jak said.

"How do you know what I'm imagining?"

Jak fixed him with a knowing look. "You think I got her pregnant and had to marry her to save her reputation, or something equally melodramatic."

The flush that spread across his face probably told Jak how accurate he had been. Denil nodded anyway.

"That's not too far off, except that she was already pregnant when we met." There was something in Jak's eyes that said he was surprised to be confessing this. "I was thinking about leaving the Company anyway. I just couldn't work out what else I wanted to do. There were younger guys coming up who were faster and better than me." He held up a hand to still Denil's protests. "A mercenary is only successful if he gets to spend his profits. Do you know how many guys die each year? I'd made my money, done my thing, and it was time to let the younger guys take over. I didn't fancy opening an inn like a lot of old mercs or commanding my own company and I didn't have the contacts to get a job as a weapons-master on a fancy estate. Then along came Anaya and I decided that here was a chance to do something really important."

"And she went along with it?"

Jak shrugged. "She needed protection. I always figured that something bad had happened in her past - she was always so skittish around me. Maybe rape or a bad marriage, but she didn't talk and I didn't ask. I got my profits and sold my bond. Anaya got some bee in her bonnet about Genta so we moved down, I got us a house and a job with the city watch so I didn't get bored."

Denil gave him a small grin. "I can't see you as a man of leisure."

Jak snorted. "I tried it. Lasted about a week before I had to find something to do. I got so restless, Anaya actually yelled at me. She was always so gentle, almost frightened. It scared the crap out of me if she got mad enough to stand up to me."

"Poor thing." After just a small dose of Jak's protectiveness, Denil could sympathise with a woman who sounded as though she would have provoked Jak's mother-hen instincts to even higher levels. "You probably made her life hell."

"She could be pretty terrifying when she got mad, but it took a lot to get past her fear of everyone around her."

"Was she happy?"

"I don't know. On reflection, probably not." A sad look tinged with guilt crossed Jak's face. "I got so caught up with being a good father to Charry that I didn't notice that there was something wrong with Anaya."

"What happened?" Denil asked gently, ready to back off the moment Jak seemed unwilling to answer.

"I honestly don't know. She'd always been skittish and nervous but it seemed to get worse after Charry was born. Sometimes she'd stay awake all night watching him. She'd panic if he were out of her sight for a moment. There was a day when she wouldn't rest until I'd put extra locks on all the doors and windows. One minute she'd be fine and next she'd pick Charry up and start crying. I thought it was just new mother nerves. Some women get like that after a birth."

"But it wasn't." It was a statement, not a question.

"No. A few months after Charry's birth she went out walking in a blizzard and never came back. We found her body in a ditch outside the city when spring came. I didn't notice that she'd gone until it was too late."

"I'm sorry."

"You already said that once."

"I mean it." It was difficult to reach Jak's arm from the position he was in but Denil managed to grasp his wrist and squeeze lightly before releasing it. "Losing anyone is hard, even if you aren't in love with them."

"Thanks."

There was uncomfortable silence for a while before Jak let out a deep sigh.

"You're the only person who knows about Charry," he said.

Denil understood immediately. "I won't tell him."

"Thanks. It's probably the kind of thing that should come from me."

"You love him a lot."

"He's not my flesh and blood but in every other way he's my son."

"Sharra and I never really talked about children," Denil said. "We always seemed to have other things we needed to do."

"You were young. I didn't think about kids when I was that age, either."

Denil grinned.

"What?" Jak asked suspiciously.

"I'm trying to picture you in your twenties."

"That's funny?"

Denil's grin widened. "It's difficult. What colour was your hair?"

A comically disgusted expression appeared on Jak's face. "It was and is brown."

"Uh-huh."

"There is too much scepticism in your voice."

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

The storm was still whistling furiously around the inn the next morning, making it impossible to even contemplate going anywhere. Denil had been anticipating spending a miserable day on horseback, probably strapped on in case he passed out. Instead, after some half-hearted protests, he was spending the morning reading in bed. Apparently, he could spend the afternoon playing stones in the taproom quietly if he was good enough. Denil was beginning to think that Jak took protectiveness a bit too far.

There was a soft knock on the door before it opened and Sai'em peeked around it. "Hey."

Denil put his book down and smiled. "Hey."

Sai'em stepped into the room and hesitated by the door. "I'm not disturbing you, am I? I can come back if you were sleeping or, uh, something."

Denil beckoned her in. "No, it's fine. I wasn't doing anything important. In fact, I've been wondering whether you were going to come and see me."

A wide smile lit up the elf's face as she sat on the end of the bed. "You're looking a lot better."

"Yeah, about that . . ." Denil trailed off meaningfully and watched a sheepish blush tinge Sai'em's normally pale cheeks. "I thought as much. Was I really that bad?"

"No, you were going to be fine anyway," Sai'em said quickly. "I just thought it might be a good idea if I hurried things along a bit."

"Oh?"

"You and Jak have been setting such a pace, I figured that whatever you're doing in Genta must be urgent. If it's urgent to you then it's urgent to me." Sai'em paused before adding, "Jak explained it all to me this morning."

"He did?"

She nodded. "It explains a lot."

"Every day we save out here is important."

"I know."

"Do you trust him now?"

Sai'em stared intently at the blanket for a long moment before she raised her eyes to meet Denil's. "I don't think he's planning to sell you out to the wizards."

"But?"

"I still think that he wants to get into your breeches."

It was no use pretending that he didn't understand her. Denil could feel his face flushing, always a giveaway, and he had to try a couple of times before he could get his voice to work.

"Jak?" he said, his voice cracking. "Jak wants-"

"You," Sai'em finished for him. "He wants you. It's there in every look he gives you. Haven't you noticed?"

Dumbly, Denil shook his head.

"You're probably the only person who hasn't."

"I was more worried about my feelings, not his," he said helplessly.

"Is this the thing you wouldn't talk to me about?"

"Uh-"

"I thought he was making unwanted advances and you were trying to handle it yourself."

"He hasn't made any advances."

Sai'em's eyes widened with sudden understanding. "And you want him to?"

"I don't know." Denil closed his eyes. "I'm confused."

"About?"

It was easier if he didn't have to look at her. "Me. Sharra. Jak. Feelings."

A cool hand closed over his and Denil opened his eyes to find Sai'em's only inches away. There was no condemnation or anger there, only gentle empathy.

"I've watched you close down over the past few years," she said softly. "You stopped living. I miss her, too, but life has to go on."

"I wanted it to stop when she died."

"I know, but it didn't and one day you need to let people in again."

Denil sighed. "I worked that out a few days ago. It's just so complicated and confusing. Everything was so simple with Sharra."

"You were young when you met her - these things usually are simpler when you're young," Sai'em said. "There's nothing wrong with being attracted to a man. Some people can be attracted to men and women."

He shot her a dirty look. "That part isn't the confusing part. I'm a scholar studying ancient texts - it's a little late to explain the facts of life to me."

Sai'em's grin was slightly sheepish. "Sorry, I had that coming."

"Sometimes you forget that I'm not fifteen anymore."

"You sometimes forget that I'm your friend as well as Sharra's. There's no need to feel embarrassed or ashamed about talking to me about these things."

They were silent for a while as Denil tried to absorb everything. He felt slightly lighter for talking about it, even if he still felt just as confused.

"I didn't expect this," he said eventually.

"No one ever does."

"He really wants me?"

"No doubt about it."

"You're sure? Sometimes you can misinterpret things. It could just be a human-elf cultural difference."

"I checked at a couple of inns. All the cooks and stable boys agreed."

"Oh."

"What are you going to do?" Sai'em asked curiously.

"I really don't know," he replied. "I need to think about it."

Sai'em climbed off the bed and gave him a reassuring smile. "Do you know what Sharra once said about you?"

"I can guess."

"She said that sometimes you over think things that should be simple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The promised game of stones took Denil's mind off his conversation with Sai'em for a while but that respite didn't last. The possibility that Jak might be attracted to him added a new dimension to his feelings. Every time he tried to dismiss it his mind refused. He watched Jak as covertly as he could, trying to see whatever it was that Sai'em had seen. Did that touch last too long? Was it unusual to hold someone's eyes that way?

Everything he said to Jak made him nervous. Was he leading Jak on? Did he want to?

He had no real frame of reference. Sai'em and Sharra had been the only really close friends he'd ever had, so how was he supposed to know whether his friendship with Jak was normal?

The thoughts and questions were still chasing each other across his mind when Jak slid into bed hours later. Denil had pleaded exhaustion, not a complete lie, and gone to bed early so he could think. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Jak's presence until Jak nudged him and the unexpected touch made him almost jump out of his skin.

"What's wrong?" Jak asked.

"Nothing," Denil said, amazed by how calm his voice sounded.

"You've been acting weird all day. Something is wrong," Jak insisted.

"It's nothing."

"So there is something."

"No."

For a moment Jak's eyes searched Denil's face and then he shrugged. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine."

Jak rolled to face the wall. Denil stared at Jak's tense shoulders for a while. He still wanted to believe that Sai'em was wrong and this was another elf-human cultural difference. Sai'em's background sometimes caused her to read human body language incorrectly or miss it altogether. If she hadn't asked for outside confirmation then he would have easily believed that. The problem was that other people could also see it. Where did that leave him?

Confused, was the only answer he could come up with. He was no closer to working out what his feelings meant or what he wanted them to mean. Having Jak's feelings added to the mix only made the uncertainty worse.

Denil jumped again when Jak suddenly rolled over and fixed him with a hard stare. "What's wrong?"

Denil gulped and tried to speak but the words froze in his throat.

"You're so tense that you're practically vibrating," Jak continued. "I can't sleep if you're going to do that, so spill."

"It's - it's nothing," Denil managed to get out. "Just something Sai'em told me."

"And?"

"And nothing. It's my problem."

"It's not your problem when it's keeping me awake," Jak said, his eyes glittering in the lamplight.

Denil tried to think up something to tell Jak, anything but the truth, but nothing came.

"Well?"

"Sai'em thinks that you're attracted to me," Denil confessed quietly, cursing himself even as he said it.

There was no reply but there was also no anger in Jak's eyes, which gave Denil the courage to ask, "Are you?"

"Would it be a problem if I was?" Jak asked.

"Are you?" Denil repeated.

Jak sighed and some of the irritation faded from his eyes. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"That depends."

"On?"

This was the moment when Denil knew he could walk away with no repercussions. He sensed that if he asked him to, Jak would bury this conversation as though it had never happened. They could go back to being friends and neither of them would ever talk about this night again. A part of Denil was tempted to do exactly that, frightened of what would happen if this went any further.

But Denil had never allowed himself to be afraid of the unknown and there was a larger part of him that wanted to find out what his feelings could mean. The thought of running away and never knowing what this could be left an empty, aching feeling inside.

Jak gently touched his cheek and Denil leaned into the contact. "Denil?"

"I thought that one day I'd meet someone who would make me feel the way Sharra did," he said softly. "I never imagined meeting someone who would confuse me the way you have."

"I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not," Jak said with a small smile. "You can never feel the same way about two people."

"Everything about you is too complicated. I like you, I think you're a good friend and you attract me in a way that I've never felt before," Denil said. "I don't know what that all means."

"It doesn't have to mean anything."

"I want it to mean something."

"We're friends and we're attracted to each other," Jak said. "We could just see where that goes."

"That sounds a bit empty," Denil said dubiously.

"It doesn't have to be. We can make it whatever feels right to us."

There was a long silence while Denil searched Jak's eyes, trying to work out what the other man wanted and felt.

"You weren't going to say anything, were you?" he asked eventually.

Jak shook his head. "Didn't plan to."

"Why?"

"I don't get involved with people I need to work with," Jak said. "It's sort of a personal code. Getting involved with the person who might be the only lead in finding my son...well, it wasn't a plan I felt comfortable with."

"So why...?"

Jak shrugged uncomfortably but didn't explain.

Denil covered Jak's hand with his and dragged it down to hold it tightly to his chest. "If this doesn't work out, I won't regret anything. We can stay friends and I'll help you to find your son no matter what happens."

Jak's eyes softened. "Thank you."

There was an awkward silence.

"What do we do now?" Denil asked.

Jak's grin was lopsided. "Whatever we want."

Shakily, Denil released Jak's hand and reached out to touch his face. He traced the contours and ran a curious thumb over Jak's scarred eyebrow. The wound in his arm ached and pulled but he ignored it, concentrating on the feel of Jak's skin under his fingertips instead.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked. "Is that-"

Denil stopped when Jak laid a finger over his lips.

"Some men have a problem with it," Jak said, shifting closer, "but I don't."

Warm breath caressed Denil's cheek. Jak's eyes were only inches away and he could read hunger there that was almost frightening in its intensity. He almost protested that this was a mistake, he had been wrong, but that thought was cut off when Jak's lips touched his. Denil closed his eyes and savoured the kiss, tasting Jak on his lips and marvelling at how pale his imagination had been compared to reality. Jak's mouth was softer than he had guessed it would be. It was different from kissing Sharra but it was a difference that Denil quickly decided he liked. When Jak's tongue sought entrance he gladly gave it and abandoned himself to the sensations Jak's hands and mouth were eliciting. Jak teased and tasted and Denil returned everything he received with passion. It wasn't a perfect kiss; teeth clashed and their noses kept getting in the way but the occasional huffs of laughter only added to the moment. Denil was grinning when they eventually pulled apart.

"I've been wondering what that would be like for days," Jak said.

Denil coloured self-consciously. "And?"

Jak suddenly wrapped his arms around Denil's waist and rolled onto his back, taking Denil with him to sprawl on top of him.

"I want to kiss you again but I don't want to hurt you if I get carried away," Jak explained solemnly, touching Denil's bandaged arm lightly.

In a strange way, Denil knew that was both an answer and a compliment. Jak's slow grin sent heat rushing through his body to settle low in his belly. The hand that crept up his back to his neck to pull him into another kiss wasn't needed because he was already there.

Jak usually went straight from asleep to awake without a sleepy half-awake stage. It was a habit left over from his years as a mercenary where not doing so could get him killed if there was a night attack on the camp. That was why he was surprised to find that he had been sleepily lying in bed, only half aware of his surroundings, for a long time before he really woke up. As his mind cleared and woke up properly that feeling of sleepy satiation tried to drag him under again. He forced his eyes open and raised a hand to rub at them. With the decision to wake up made, the last of the fogginess in his mind dissipated and he began to take in his surroundings.

He turned his head to look out of the window. The sky was dark and a few stars still twinkled but his internal clock told him that dawn was not far off. A few snowflakes drifted lazily past the window but the wind was no longer whistling around the inn. They would be able to get back on the road today providing Denil was sufficiently recovered from his injury.

Jak craned his head to look at Denil. The scholar was draped over him with his head on Jak's shoulder and one leg slung across Jak's thighs. Jak couldn't see Denil's face and he was momentarily tempted to wake him just so that he could. Nothing in Denil's responses last night implied that he would regret anything today, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. Jak pushed that thought away by replaying Denil's reassurances the night before. An entire lifetime of following a personal code of never getting involved with anyone he needed to work with had been changed by one softly worded promise.

Jak lightly stroked Denil's bare back as he considered the situation. Denil was an enthusiastic lover who, although new to male loving, had quickly adjusted to the differences. Between his injury and their need to be able to sit in the saddle they hadn't been able to do anything fancy, but Jak felt more complete than he had in years. It had been fun, passionate sex and Jak could feel himself becoming aroused at just the memory.

It had been more than just good sex, though. Jak hadn't felt this kind of emotional connection with a bedmate before. There were other feelings mingling with the post-coital satisfaction that threatened to make everything different. He had been right a few days ago; it wouldn't take much to push this attraction over the edge into something a lot bigger, and Jak had a feeling that last night had put him a step closer to that edge.

He sighed quietly and pushed those worrying thoughts away. There were far more important things at stake right now. He could consider where this relationship might be going when he had his son back. For now he needed to wake Denil and get out on the road.

The scholar was always difficult to wake and Jak considered going downstairs to get some tea first before dismissing the idea as foolish and cowardly. Instead, he raised his free hand and nudged Denil's chin upwards so he could see his face. There was a soft smile on Denil's lips even though his face was still relaxed in sleep. Jak tried quietly calling his name a couple of times and when that didn't work he shook Denil's shoulder. A puzzled frown crossed Denil's face and he muttered something incoherent. Jak shook his shoulder again and this time was rewarded with sleepy blue eyes opening.

"Hmm?" Denil sighed.

"Time to get up," Jak said. "How do you feel?"

Denil rolled off Jak and onto his back to stretch. Jak followed the movement with his eyes, unashamedly enjoying the rippling muscles in his bare chest and arms. There was a cat-like grace to Denil's stretching and he even emitted a low purr of satisfaction until a wince crossed his face and he stopped stretching to touch a finger to the white bandage on his arm.

"This still aches a little," he said.

Jak sat up and put a hand on the bandage, raising his eyebrow in enquiry. Denil nodded his assent and Jak carefully unwound the linen to examine the wound. The gash was several inches long, angling down and across his bicep, but the stitches still held it together despite last night's exertions. Reassuringly, the skin around it was cool to the touch and there were no angry red streaks to imply that the wound was infected.

"How bad is it?" Denil asked.

"It's healing nicely," Jak said. "We'll need to put a fresh bandage on and some more salve before we leave, but it looks good. It's going to take some time to heal properly, even with Sai'em's help, but the scar shouldn't be too bad. Scars can be attractive, you know."

Denil raised an eyebrow.

"On the right people," Jak added, "and in the right places. You'll look a little dangerous and unpredictable."

"Thank you, I think."

They regarded each other in silence for a while before Jak asked, "Are you going to be alright to ride today?"

Denil nodded.

Jak fixed him with a hard glare. "If you feel light-headed or ill in any way, tell someone. You don't gain points for stubbornness."

"I'll be fine," Denil insisted.

"Tell someone."

"I will."

"Good." Jak nodded to the window where the sky was just beginning to lighten in false dawn. "We should get moving."

"We're not talking about last night then?" Denil asked, also sitting up and keeping the blankets firmly above waist level.

Jak shrugged. "I think we said everything that needs saying."

"Oh."

There seemed to be disappointment in Denil's eyes and voice and Jak spent a moment wracking his brain for a reason why. It came in a flash of inspiration and he grinned.

"This isn't a one night thing," he said before hooking his hand behind Denil's head and pulling him into a deep kiss.

They were balanced precariously and as soon as Denil opened his mouth to allow Jak in, all balance failed and Jak tumbled into his back. Denil followed, kissing aggressively, and they spent a few pleasurable minutes enjoying the contact. Jak eventually tore his mouth away and rested his forehead in the hollow of Denil's throat.

"Clothes. Now," he said through gritted teeth.

Denil nibbled on his earlobe before rolling off and taking a deep breath. "You first."

Jak glared at his new lover before rolling out of the bed and padding naked to the packs in the corner. A shirt hit him in the back of his head and he turned back to the bed.

"Cover yourself before I stop resisting temptation," Denil ordered.

Occasional flakes of snow were still falling and it was still freezing, but Denil ignored the weather with ease. Thinking about last night was taking up all his attention. At first, it had been strange to kiss and caress someone as strong as he was. Jak was all hard planes and muscles where Sharra had been soft. His lightly furred chest had felt odd against Denil's skin. That hadn't last for long; Denil had quickly discovered that he liked those differences. It had been fun to explore Jak's body, finding out what made him laugh or gasp and shiver. Jak had been just as curious and more patient than Denil had expected. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but everything had been better than he could have imagined. Jak was a fierce and passionate lover, unashamed of his body and confident in ways Denil had never been. He was also tender and caring, a side that didn't surprise Denil even thought he'd only know the man for a couple of weeks, and Jak had been careful not to do anything that might hurt either of them. Shifting slightly in his saddle, Denil decided that he was grateful for that.

Around mid-morning he was pulled out of his thoughts when Sai'em moved up to ride beside him and greeted him with a soft, "Hey."

Denil smiled at her and returned the greeting.

"Nice morning," Sai'em said, a grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.

Denil glanced at the grey sky and falling snow. "Yes, it is."

Sai'em allowed the grin to spread over her face. "I thought so."

"Uh, what?" Denil asked, not following her expressions at all.

"It's all over your face."

"What is?"

Sai'em rolled her eyes and lowered her voice. "You and Jak. You talked to him."

Denil was embarrassed to realise that he was blushing. "Yes, we talked."

"From the look on your face, it must have been a good talk."

It was easier not to answer; every reply Denil could think of basically involved telling Sai'em to mind her own business with varying degrees of politeness.

"I won't pry any further," Sai'em said. "Just tell me one thing - do you regret it?"

That was easy to answer. "No."

Sai'em smiled. "That's all I needed to know."

The warmth inside kept him going throughout the long day, even though they had to ride past sunset before finding an inn. They ate supper in the taproom and Denil's stomach tightened with anticipation as they lingered over tankards of beer. He felt self-conscious about announcing that he was tired with Sai'em's eyes on him so it was a relief when Jak stretched and yawned.

"I'm going to call it a night," Jak announced. "Denil?"

"I'm a little tired too," Denil said, ignoring Sai'em's knowing look.

He followed Jak to their bedroom and slid the bolt on the door across as soon as it closed. Jak was standing behind him when he turned around so they ended up standing chest to chest.

"I hope you were lying about being tired," Denil said, keeping his hands at his sides.

Jak rested his hands on Denil's hips and pulled him forward. Their groins ground together and Denil grinned as he felt how aroused Jak already was.

"I'm not tired yet," Jak said with an answering grin.

Denil reached up and gently traced Jak's scarred eyebrow before sliding his hand around to pull Jak into a kiss. The first attempt was clumsy and they bashed noses because Denil wasn't used to kissing someone the same height as him.

Jak's hands came up to frame his face. "Try again?"

Denil nodded and allowed Jak to angle the kiss. This time it was much better and he sighed and wrapped himself around Jak. They slowly stumbled back until Jak's knees hit the edge of the bed and they fell onto it still kissing hungrily.

They left the North Road two days later and the journey became tougher. A few carts had packed the snow down but the occasional falls of fresh snow hid ice patches. They were forced to go more carefully and sometimes dismount and lead the horses or risk laming them. Progress was much slower, the road was difficult to follow and they had to ride far into the night to find an inn on a couple of occasions. The lowest point came when they had to sleep on the taproom floor one night. Icy drafts seemed to come in from everywhere and the logs that the innkeeper grudgingly gave them for the fire ran out half way through the night. Denil pushed aside all his reservations about public affection and clung as close as he could to Jak under their thin covering of blankets and cloaks. Jak seemed equally miserable, shivering violently each time an icy gust hit them. Sai'em wrapped herself in her cloak and refused all their entreaties to join their huddle, giving Denil knowing looks that made him flush each time they tried until he slapped a hand over Jak's mouth and ordered him to leave her alone. He began to develop an intense envy of Sai'em's ice elf blood and indifference to cold.

Even when they had a bed to themselves, there were nights when Jak and Denil were just too tired for sex. On those nights, Denil discovered that spooning up in front of Jak was almost as warming and relaxing as sex. He wasn't surprised to find that memories of making love with Jak were one of the best ways to keep warm on the most miserable days on the road.

Denil could sense the growing frustration in Jak at their slow pace. With each day that passed, Jak became quieter and more irritable, to the point of yelling at Denil one night when the moon was high in the sky and they were passing the third inn since sunset. He had taken a deep breath and apologised to Denil before reluctantly agreeing that it would be a good idea to rest. That night, Jak had been almost despairing when they made love and Denil held him tightly afterwards, pretending to ignore the silent tears streaming down Jak's face.

Denil could see the guilt in Jak's eyes and he knew the man well enough now to guess its source. He could even understand it; what man wouldn't feel guilty for finding a lover on a mission to save his son?

That was why it was with a mixture of relief and trepidation that Denil crested a hill on the twenty-fifth day out of Eto and looked down on a squat, dark city below.

Jak pulled up beside him and gestured towards it. "Welcome to Genta."

Part 3

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