“There might be something that could end the spell, these things usually aren’t eternal, but I haven’t found it yet.”
“Are you looking?” Belen looked away from wrapping the wound in the taller man’s belly to squint up at him.
Khalid shrugged. “Sometimes. When I’m not doing anything interesting.”
Belen dug more linen bandage out of his pack, silence stretching. “For curiosity’s sake, what are you doing now?”
Khalid laughed, the motion opening the partially closed wound to allow blood to drip once more. “I’m always delighted when I find kindness in unexpected places, but you would do better to save it for another lonely traveler.”
“Kindness is the only thing I have left to give, and I will do so whenever it pleases me,” Belen said, a hint of iron under his gentle demeanor and gentler hands.
This time Khalid didn’t laugh, but a smile tugged at the side of his full lips. “A delight indeed.”
Once Belen had the bandage arranged to his satisfaction, he drew himself to his full though not particularly substantial height, surveyed the man draped over a fallen tree branch, and allowed himself to drop to a seat next to him. “Are you going to tell me why you happened to be travelling such an overgrown road, rescuing hapless peasants from bandits?”
“It didn’t used to be so overgrown,” he said fondly. “Once upon a time, these roads were the finest in the world.”
Belen wrinkled his nose. “Yes, sometimes invaders build nice things. And sometimes 200 years pass and better roads are built and only bandits and those who don’t want to be found still use the old ones. So I repeat, what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” Khalid said, leaning lazily on his hands.
“You could, but kindness is the only thing I give away for free. Answers require reciprocity.”
Khalid examined him sideways, the smile still playing on his lips. “Alright. I heard there was a slew of murders in Giyara, so I thought I would investigate.”
Belen flapped his hand dismissively. “There are always murders in big cities. No one cares or cares to find the killer.” There was something bitter in his voice, a hint of sour fruit left to rot in the sun.
“Oh, I’m not looking for the killer. These are powerful men, prominent in several spheres. Mostly politics and religion, but one on the Shah’s council. When so many are killed at once, and no one can prevent it, there’s usually a reason. I want to know what they were mixed up in.”
“You know no one uses the word ‘Shah’ anymore.”
Khalid blinked, his dark lashes brushing his tan skin. Belen had to tear his eyes away. He had never had any interest in lashes before this. “They don’t? What do they call him, then?”
“Just ‘king’. I don’t know if the Hajis stole it from the Docairs or vice versa.”
“Docair has a king now? I need to come north more often.”
“If you don’t want to find the killer, why do you care why they were killed?”
Khalid grinned, and it was more sharp than expressing anything close to happiness. The teeth were the point. “I need to know if I agree with the killer, and if they finished the job.”
