Page 66 of Paladin's Hope

“But you kept him alive to get there,” said Galen.

The doctor made a small noise of acknowledgment. “I suppose there’s that.” His eyes met Galen’s and in their dark brown depths, Galen could see the memory of that long, terrible vigil at Earstripe’s bedside.

No stranger to vigils himself, he wondered how many Piper had kept, over the living and the dead. But the doctor had come through his kinder and fiercer in defense of the living. Galen had only come out older and more broken. As exhausted as we are, his first thought was to ask if the gnoles could help him to save more lives. That’s what he does.

And I think I’m in love with him.

He had to look away. Piper’s eyes were too bright. The doctor might be able to read Galen’s thoughts in them, and that would be far too dangerous.

He looked down at his hands instead. Hands which had killed more people than he could even remember. Hands which he’d briefly wrapped around Piper’s throat. A man he loved.

Oh gods and saints, thought Galen, I’ve got to let him go.

Twenty-Nine

“Well,” said Piper, as they stood outside the gnole warren. “Well.” He swayed a little on his feet. “I suppose all we can do now is wait for word.”

“I will see you home, then,” said Galen.

Piper gazed at him for a moment, then smiled. It was a sweet, unguarded smile, bright with relief, and Galen’s heart clenched. Let me steal a last few minutes. Then I’ll have to end this. The sooner the better.

“We’ll all see you home,” said Marcus. “If somebody tries to jump you, Galen’s going to be about as much use as tits on a bull.”

“Marcus, I will absolutely fight you.”

They walked out of the warren together. Galen took Piper’s arm and they leaned against each other and it felt good and correct and he wanted more and his heart ached with it. He wanted to walk more slowly so that they did not reach the end of their journey. He wanted to store up the warmth of Piper’s shoulder against his, the way the light woke red highlights in Piper’s dark hair, the sound of his laughter, hoarse with exhaustion, when Marcus said something particularly outrageous. Oh Saint, why didn’t I pay closer attention when we were in the maze? I should have committed every bit of him to memory.

But eventually, no matter how slowly Galen went, their feet led them back across the river and into a familiar part of the city. It’s almost over. You must do this and be done with it. Quick, before it has time to hurt even more.

“I’m just down here,” said Piper, gesturing to the street. He looked awkwardly at Shane and Marcus, then over to Galen. “Ah…”

Galen tried to think of a polite way to tell the other two paladins to make themselves scarce. Unfortunately, at the moment all he could think of was, “Get lost, you bastards,” and that seemed undiplomatic.

“I think I’d like a beer,” rumbled Marcus. He looked at Shane. “And so would you.”

“I would?” said Shane, who rarely drank at all.

“Yes. You would love one.”

“Subtle, your friends,” said Piper, watching the two paladins retrace their steps to a small tavern on the corner of the street.

“They mean well,” said Galen with a sigh. “But we were mostly called in to be killing machines.”

Piper’s lips tightened a little, which only solidified Galen’s resolve. He’s a healer, and I’m truly no different than that scorpion thing I bashed to death. He needs to be with someone else entirely. Someone whose only purpose isn’t putting more bodies on the slab in front of him.

This is for the best.

He bit down on the sudden rush of anguish at the thought, and followed Piper down the street to his door.

* * *

His apartments were cool but not chill, the brick of the small fireplace radiating heat. Judging by the warmth of the chimney, the neighbors had been cooking recently. Piper wanted to fall down and weep with relief, or possibly just fall down. He had never been so glad to be at home in his own rooms.

“Come inside?” he asked Galen nervously. The paladin had been silent the entire walk down the street, and Piper could feel tension growing in his gut. Something was wrong. Something had been wrong since they left the gnole warren.

Galen stepped inside the door and stood in the entryway, very obviously not coming any further inside.

“Would you like tea?” Piper asked, because he had to say something. Galen shook his head, and Piper could read something about the set of his lips that set off even more warning bells. “It’s funny,” he said, rushing to fill the silence, “it seems like we did everything in the wrong order. We know all the important things about each other and none of the small things. I don’t even know if you like tea. Maybe you’re allergic to it.”

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