Luna of Rogues

Part 56 - Assassins

Rhodric didn't shout at us. Instead, he went about cleaning up our mess, barely sparing either of us a glance. But there was disappointment in his gaze ... and somehow, that was far worse than shouting.

The first thing he did was deal with Old Jeff, who had begun pacing in small circles. "Sit down," Rhodric said with that tone that dared you to disobey him.

Jeff did so without complaint, drumming his fingers on the table in no particular tempo. He watched silently as his son removed every potential weapon in sight. Only when we were completely safe did Rhodric finally turn his back on the old man to examine Rhys's wound.

"We need pressure on this," he said. "It's deep."

"I really don't need—" Rhys's complaint was cut off by a sharp stare.

He let his father manhandle him into a chair. Evidently, he wasn't impressed by my flimsy dressing, because he removed it in favour of a wad of cloth and a considerable amount of pressure.

"Honestly, Dad, it'll heal in a few minutes," Rhys tried again.

"Shut up."

Rhodric was digging out a first-aid kit with one hand. Why Jeff would have something like that, I didn't know. I'd seen him cheerfully bleed all over the floor of his hut without ever seeming to notice on more than one occasion.

When the bleeding finally stopped, Rhodric put a clean dressing over the wound, and then motioned to the door, his meaning very clear. Get out.

And so I dragged Rhys onto his feet and helped support his weight as we shuffled out of the door. No matter how fine he was pretending to be, he had lost enough blood to make him lightheaded at the very least. It was only when we were sat on the grass outside that I finally realised Fion had left my mind, probably as soon as we were out of danger.

"We're alright — heading home now," I told her through the link, hoping Jeff was far enough away. The last thing I wanted to do was set him off again.

Instinctively, my mind brushed against Leo's. As best I could tell over so much distance, he was fast asleep. Not wanting to wake him, I returned my thoughts to the present. Rhodric had joined us outside.

"I'm sorry," I began. "We just—"

"I'm not angry, Skye. And you don't have to apologise," Rhodric interrupted.

"Could've fooled me," I muttered under my breath.

He fixed me with a piercing stare. "I warned you about Jeff, and you didn't listen. I'm disappointed, but I'm not angry. Now, come on. Help me get him up. We've got a long way to go and plenty of time to talk."

Rhodric lifted Rhys to his feet. He refused all of our attempts to help him and walked unaided. His wound would be healing by now, and that was always an itchy and uncomfortable process.

"He's family," Rhys said quietly, a few minutes into our walk. It sounded like a rebuke. "We can't leave him alone in the woods forever."

"And you're too much like your mother, boy," Rhodric snorted. "She was reckless beyond belief."

"Is that she would have done? Visited her family no matter how dangerous it was?" I asked.

Rhodric sighed loudly. "Yes. And I can't really fault either of you for it. Just remember that I'll be the one to bury you when your luck runs out."

"We'll remember," I promised.

He grimaced. "And he's not your only family, Rhys. Don't forget that. Next time you feel like some bonding, go and see Maggie. Or your cousin — he's only a year younger than you, and unlike your grandfather, he won't murder you on a whim."