Page 72 of Paladin's Hope

“Ow!” Galen rubbed his arm. “What was that for?”

“What are you thinking about?” asked Stephen, looking even more inscrutable than usual.

“I’m thinking that my brother-in-arms has started pinching people for no reason and it’s a little disconcerting.”

“Before that.”

“I…uh…” He coughed. “Nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m better at it than you are,” said Galen, which was true.

“The bar is not high,” said Stephen, which was also true. “What were you thinking about?”

Galen looked down, saw what the healer was doing, and looked away again hurriedly. “Piper,” he mumbled.

Stephen gazed at him steadily for nearly a minute, then said, “I never thought that I would utter these words in my lifetime. The gods have mercy upon us. Galen, I am afraid that you’re in love.”

“I am not,” he said, which was definitely a lie, but maybe if he said it out loud, it would become true.

From somewhere near his knee, the healer snorted.

“How many times a day do you think about Piper?”

Galen swallowed. Just once, but it lasts the whole day.

Apparently his silence was enough, because Stephen rocked back on his heels and gazed up at the ceiling. “Saint’s teeth. No wonder you haven’t been visiting taverns looking for entertainment.”

“I thought about it,” admitted Galen. The thought had no appeal. He didn’t want sex. Well, he did, obviously, but not with some random stranger who he’d never think about again. I should never have kissed Piper. That’s where it all went wrong. I never kiss any of those other men, for a damn good reason. Kissing is dangerous. It’s probably too near your brain or something.

Or your nose. That’s probably it. Spongiform erectile tissue. That’s what gets you in trouble.

He considered explaining his new theory of nasal erectile tissue as gateway to the soul to Stephen, realized that it would make absolutely no sense, and wished that he could run it by Piper first.

The healer slapped his leg as if he were a horse. “All right. You’re done. Now quit tearing it open! You’re going to have a scar as it is, and if you end up back here again, I’m going to write ‘jackass’ in stitches across it, and serve you right.”

“Did you know that there’s erectile tissue inside your nose?” asked Galen.

The healer stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Is yours giving you trouble?” she asked finally.

“I’m honestly not sure.”

“Remember when I was an endless font of facts about ambergris?” asked Stephen.

“God, yes. You wouldn’t shut up about whale vomit for nearly three days. Then you started talking about castoreum and we made you eat lunch by yourself. Why?”

“I’d fallen in love with a perfumer. Everything she did was fascinating. I wanted to learn more about it. Still do, actually, but now I can talk to her about it.” Stephen examined his nails. “And now you have a sudden interest in human anatomy.”

“I’ve always been interested in human anatomy,” said Galen stiffly.

“Not usually the bits inside the nose.”

The healer snorted again. “You two get out of here,” she said. “Otherwise I’ll be tempted to go up your noses and check.” The paladins left hurriedly.

Stephen was silent as they crossed the temple compound and entered the small corridor of rooms where the paladins of the Saint of Steel lived. In the common room at the end, Galen could hear the sounds of the others comparing the day’s assignments. He half-expected Stephen to make for it, but instead the paladin paused in the hallway and simply looked at him. He had a particularly penetrating Look. Galen was convinced that the man could peel paint with it if he stared long enough.

Unfortunately for Galen, merely knowing this did not grant him any kind of immunity. “Fine,” he muttered. “You don’t need to give me the eye. Yes, all right. I’m in love. I admit it. It doesn’t matter.”

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