Eliona's War 2: Veiled Healer

Chapter 5

Soon after their discussion about Gifts, which had raised almost more questions than it had answered, Bian arrived.

She was a striking woman in her forties, with ebony hair falling to her broad shoulders, bare muscled arms and skin darkened by hours under the sun. At the sight of her, Olen's face softened into a genuine smile.

"Bian," Olen greeted her warmly. "Glad you could make it."

As she came over to their little table, Severance noticed the deep creases etched around her eyes and mouth. It was like she was used to laughter, yet her mouth was set in a firm, unforgiving line.

"Hmph." She grunted in response, giving him an unimpressed glance. She peered down at Severance. "I don't think we were introduced yet. I am Bian, head of provisions. You need anything, you can come to me."

"Or me," Olen threw in helpfully. "Bian and I are a team."

A very unladylike snort came from Bian at that. "I have yet to see you do an honest day of labour, Olen."

Instead of being offended, Olen just laughed, eyes closing in true amusement. "That's because most of my work is done at night, my dear Bian."

"Is that so?" Bian's expression was completely deadpan. "I wonder if you actually manage to put in more than two minutes of effort. Or can you even last that long?"

Severance, who'd been looking back and forth between them, almost choked. Please tell me I am not hearing what I think I'm hearing!

"Your words wound me," Olen placed a hand on his chest. "I hope you'll take responsibility for that later."

Unable to bear it any longer, Severance coughed. Loudly. Both Veiled glanced his way, as if surprised he was still there. Though he was starting to wonder if he should have just gotten up and left, leaving them to have their little moment or whatever that was in privacy.

"Hmph. Delusional brat." Bian turned her back to Olen, deciding he was no longer worth her attention. Instead, she regarded Severance with the stern sort of look that made him instinctively sit up straighter. "So. I hear you're itching for something to do."

Severance blinked. "I am?"

"You are," Olen spoke up from his neglected side of the table. "What you need to focus on now is getting stronger. And one of the best ways to do that is to start working for the clan."

"Right," Bian interjected. "As it so happens, there's a little something you can help with. We found out about a Free Trader shipment of rare goods—"

"You're welcome," Olen interrupted, a rather satisfied look on his face.

"—and we're going to recover it," Bian went on as if Olen had never spoken. "You, as the clan healer, would improve the odds of a successful recovery."

The clan healer? Severance repeated those words to himself silently. He kind of liked the sound of that.

Then the rest of what Bian had said sunk in. "Wait, you're going to steal someone's supplies?"

Bian scoffed. "It's hardly stealing when it's already been stolen. Besides, the Traders have warehouses of stuff. They won't even miss such a small shipment."

"Still, you better take precautions," Olen warned. "They're a more powerful clan than we."

"It'll be fine, princess. I know what to do." For the first time, Bian's stern expression morphed into a roguish smirk.

Severance hid a smile behind a hand. He was starting to like this Bian character. She reminded him a bit of Mrs Beaker with her tough-as-nails persona and dry snark.