Ulf sat up and watched Mistress Alexis hurry the last patron from the inn. The only sound that remained was the groaning and crying of the stranger's victims. There was not enough of that, he thought sourly. Two of the men would never utter another sound. Initially, he feared he was the only survivor, but the boy let out cries of pain. Alexis moved to him and gently separated him from his father. She laid the child on his back and examined the wound with a grimace.

“Ulf, you fool man, can you walk?”

“I will damn well try,” He replied angrily. “I need to get to my own horse.”

“You go after that nag of yours, and that stranger won't be the one to finish you. I'll damn well do it myself,” Was her impatient reply. “Now, get behind that bar and bring me some water and clean towels.”

Though he would never admit it, Ulf was grateful for the rebuke. He was not really interested in going after the stranger, but he did have to keep up appearances. Of course, he thought, it was just like a woman to start shouting orders at the first man she saw. None of them would ever admit it, but women were bossy.

He moved with as much speed as he could, and in relatively short order, had a pot of water and a bundle of clean towels. When he handed the items over to Alexis, he went to remove the knife from his chest. She saw what he was about to do and shouted at him.

“What do you think you are doing? If you take that knife out, you could very well bleed to death.”

He paused and looked fiercely at the plump woman. He would never take this abuse from another man, so why should he from a woman. He was on the verge of expressing this thought, but Alexis beat him to it.

“If the only ideas you have tonight are to be stupid ones, you can just sit over there and wait.”

Now feeling as though it would be churlish to express his objections, he moved to where she pointed and sat moodily. He watched in stunned amazement as Alexis tended the boy.

She rolled one of the towels into a pillow and placed it under the injured boy's head, ripped his shirt open, and then dipped the corner of another cloth in the water. She began the process of washing the wound. Once clean, she gasped. The knife had done it's master's bidding well. There was a deep hole in the left breast of the boy, and he had lost a great deal of blood. Ulf had seen the near-dead before. There was nothing to be done about the boy. He said as much but only got an angry snort in return. She removed a small sewing kit from a dress pocket and spoke softly to the dying child.

“Shh, this is going to hurt, but I promise I'll be quick. You just lay still and try not to think about the pain.”

The boy looked at her, and Ulf could see his pain. It reminded him of when he had lost his own father, and he could read the question in the lad’s eyes.

“Is my father dead,” he asked.

Ulf knew Alexis well. There was no way she could look at the child in the eye and give such a terrible answer. He tried to get up to help her, but again he received the angry snort.

“I don't know,” she lied, “I will look at him in a moment. You just hush now and let me work.”

The boy laid his head back down, and with a soft moan, said, “This is all my fault, isn't it?”

There was no reply from Alexis this time. He could see the tears on her face, and they mirrored the boy's own. Measuring a long piece of thread, she ran it through the eye of the needle and began to sew. For a time, nothing out of the ordinary happened, but eventually, a slight glow appeared above the area she worked. The longer she worked, the brighter the light became. After several long moments, Alexis tied the thread into a neat knot and sat upright. She swayed slightly at the movement. The boy now lay quietly on the floor. Where the hole in his chest had been was now a neat, clean suture. Wetting another section of cloth, she folded it and placed it on top of the mended area. When she turned to look back at him, she looked exhausted.

Too dazed to think clearly, Ulf just sat there numb. He knew he had just witnessed magic. But from Mistress Alexis? It was unthinkable that this fat old woman was a mage, just inconceivable.

Gesturing to the prone figure, all he could say was, “Will the boy live, Mistress Alexis?”

“You can drop the mistress, Ulf. We are beyond titles now, and it always seemed a little too pretentious anyway.” Though she was obviously weary, her smile was kind. “I have done what I can for the boy. He has lost a lot of blood and is very weak, but I have closed the wound and mended the flesh. Only time will tell now.” She pointed at the knife sticking from his chest and said, “Now, let's take a look at you.”

Carefully tearing the shirt around the protruding weapon, she pursed her lips in annoyance. Where the blade had struck was a small square of metal connected to a chain. The knife had punctured this unintended armor plating before entering Ulf's chest; thus, the wound was only superficial. With a grunt of disgust, she plucked the knife away and tossed it to the ground. Ulf thought, perhaps, she was a little too dismissive, and entirely too aggressive.

“Now you know why I wanted to remove it myself,” he said with a shrug, “Good thing my charm got in the way of that blade. A gift from my second wife. Guess marrying the wench wasn’t a complete waste after all.”

Despite the offhanded comment, when he replaced his mangled shirt, he tucked the charm away with exaggerated care. When he looked back up, she had a very familiar expression. It usually preceded a tongue lashing, and Alexis didn’t disappoint.

“You mean to tell me you weren't really hurt, and you just let those men die?”

Ulf just shrugged.

“Don't you have anything to say for yourself, you just let two good men die?”

He shrugged again.

“I’m waiting,” she shouted.

This time he spoke.

“Wilhelm was already dead, and the man was leaving. What was to be gained by getting back up except my own death? Despite what you might think, woman, I am no fool.” He paused a moment then added, “Besides Wilhelm was not that good a man, and Jeffrem would swindle his own mother if he could find her.”

Ulf knew she was giving these men too much credit in death. The reality was that they had initiated the conflict, and it wasn't really about protecting his son. Jeffrem was using the excuse to extort money from the stranger and had gotten what he deserved. This was the last time he was going to go along with Wilhelm. Looking down at his partner’s corpse, it hit him. This was the last time. Whether or not he wanted it to be.

“The question is,” she said, “what do we do now?”

Ulf looked up from fiddling with his charm necklace and shrugged.

“I don't think it would be wise to stay here any longer than we must,” Alexis said with evident patience. “That man was obviously on his way to somewhere, and it seems reasonable that he will be coming back this way when he returns to wherever he came from. Men like that have long memories and short tempers. I think it unwise for us to be here when he returns.”

He raised his shoulders for another shrug, and she shouted.

“Ulf, if you shrug at me one more time, I will cut both of your arms off!”

He stopped mid-shrug and reverted to his other preferred form of communication; he grunted. Alexis threw up her hands in exasperation and began searching the bar for something. Suddenly she stopped her efforts.

“Why haven't you asked me about the magic?” she said suspiciously. “Even you must have noticed.”

This time Ulf answered with a grunt and a shrug. At the look that came over Alexis' face, he smiled broadly.

“What would I say? It would be stupid of me to say something like, 'you can do magic,' when it is plain you can.”

Despite her apparent desire to remain upset, he could see that his answer had impressed her. Finally, she said, “Ulf, that was probably the least stupid thing you have ever said.”

The grin slipped a little at the backhanded compliment, and Ulf thought it was just like a woman. Understanding how a woman’s mind worked, he was unsurprised at her next words.

“Now, if there is enough brainpower left in that thick skull of yours, perhaps you can rummage about for anything we might find useful on the road.”

His smile vanished utterly. He wasn’t about to go anywhere. If the man came back, he would just have to deal with it. He had business here, and his competitors were not the kind of people that waited politely for a rival to come back from vacation.

“What do you mean, supplies for the road? I have no intention of leaving my home. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

“Didn’t you just moments ago declare that you were no fool? Weren’t you just espousing your desire not to die?” She had resumed her search of the bar, and her words were muffled. The tone, though, was unmistakable.

“I have business here, woman!” he shouted. “My customers have expectations, and my presence is one of them!”

“Customers! Ha! You call those thieves and miscreants customers. More like vultures. If it’s money you are worried about, I will pay for your services.”

Money? Now that was a cause he could rally around.

“How much, and for what services?” he asked much calmer now that payment was being discussed.

She wrestled a coin sack from behind the bar and dumped the contents. Silver and copper coins spilled onto the counter and floor, glimmering in the firelight. There were even several gold coins. It would take him months to make that much.

“That much, and the same again when we reach our destination. As far as services, I will need protection. And so will the boy.”

“Protection!” he squawked. “What the hell good am I next to a mage? Surely you could kill a man if needs be.”

“Kill a man?” She asked quietly. “Oh yes, Ulf, I could kill a man. It’s not killing that I worry about.”

Ulf had no clue what she was talking about, but the money was damn good. And, if he was honest, he agreed with her about the stranger. He really didn’t want to die.

“Very well,” he said. “Where we heading?”

“For now, it is enough that you know we are going south.” She pointed at the sword. “Do you know how to use that?”

He shrugged and, at her annoyed look, responded. “I know which is the pointy end if that’s what you mean. Truthfully, I’ve never found much use for ‘em.”

He walked to the largest table and flipped it over. With a single kick, he knocked one of the legs clean off. He picked it up and hefted it a few times.

“Now this…This is a proper weapon.”

Alexis rolled her eyes at him. “Take it anyway. Now go up to the rooms and grab all the blankets you can. It will be a bitterly cold journey, and we will be glad of the warmth.” She paused, then added, “I wonder if we should take one of the wagons?”

Ulf gestured at Jeffram’s corpse. “I don’t think he’s in much of a position to argue. I say, take what you need.”

It didn’t take Ulf long to realize his services included far more than protection. Once he gathered the blankets, he was tasked with packing the food and water, loading the wagon, hitching the horses, and moving the boy. It took just over two hours to get everything ready, and by the time he was done, he was panting heavily. He walked to the bar and poured a large tankard of beer. Sighing gratefully, he sat down and took a long drink. He had no idea what Alexis was doing, or even where she was, but her absence was an improvement. He just finished pouring another beer when she reappeared.

“I’m not going to travel with a drunk,” she said, taking the mug from his hands. “Have you checked the supplies?”

Ulf forwent the shrug and proceeded straight to a grunt. Of course, he checked the damn supplies. He loaded the damn supplies. He did make a mental note, however, to make sure the keg he stashed in the wagon was concealed correctly. He and Alexis stowed what little gear was left and started on the road south. He chose for himself a dark brown stallion, and at eighteen hands, it was an intimidating beast. The wagon was being pulled by a couple of shaggy plow horses. They weren’t the fastest available, but they looked like the heartiest. Alexis took the lead and, with a slap, got the animals moving.

She wasn’t wrong about the bitter cold. It was nearly full winter, and he shivered hard, though he was wearing his thickest furs. It was strange to him that he had never grown accustomed to the chill. It was one of Wilhelm’s favorite means of teasing him, a born-and-raised North Man shivering like a frightened girl, he would say. He put his dead friend out if his mind and focused on the road. It was very late, and this was not the place to let his mind wander.

They traveled for a few hours, and, just before daybreak, Alexis called a halt. She had spotted a small copse of scraggly trees and decided to camp there. Ulf unhitched the horses while Alexis stood over the boy doing…something. He finished brushing down the animals and measured out a small amount of grain for each. By the time he finished, it was full light. He sat down by the fire Alexis had started and held his hands to it for warmth. When he looked up, he saw Alexis clearly for the first time in hours. She looked horrible. Her skin was pale, and she seemed to have lost a great deal of weight.

“You look like shit,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“My, what a way with words you have,” she said haggardly. “I have been feeding the boy energy all night long. Magic takes a toll as surely as any smuggler. You should know well, Ulf, nothing is ever free.”

“Just make sure the toll isn’t more than you can afford. That’s a good way of getting dead.”

She smiled. “Ulf, I didn’t think you cared.”

“Of course I care,” he responded in a hurt tone. “If you die, I don’t see the rest of my money.”

There was a loud snap, and they both looked up in alarm as two men appeared from behind the trees. Both were brandishing long knives. They were rusted and notched, but they looked serviceable.

“What a coincidence,” one of the men said. “We was just thinkin’ the same thing. Weren’t we Barny?”

“True enough, Greg,” the other man said. “We thank you for making up such a nice cozy fire and all, but we ain't much for company, so I guess it’s time for you all to leave.”

Ulf grabbed his table leg and stood.

“I guess it’s a morning for coincidence because we ain't much for company either.” He looked hard at the two men. “There’s no reason for this to get messy.”

“You hear that, Barny,” Greg said. “The oaf and the scarecrow want us to leave.”

Greg took a step forward. Well, messy it was. Ulf threw his club at the advancing man. It struck him in the head, opening a gaping wound, and he fell hard. Barny rushed forward, and Ulf had just enough time to sidestep the knife thrust. He felt the blade slide along his side and grunted as the two men came together. His footing was poor, and he fell backward, taking Barny with him. His right arm was in an awkward position when he landed, and there was a loud crack as it broke. He screamed in agony and threw up his left to catch Barny’s knife hand as it came rushing for his face. There was no way he was going to survive this. With only one good arm, it was only a matter of time before his strength gave out. He saw Alexis standing a few feet away with a stricken look on her face.

“Don’t just stand there,” he puffed. “Do something.”

Alexis bit her lip and wavered. She wasn’t going to help, and he was going to die. His grip faltered, and the knife crept another inch closer. Without warning, Barny exhaled violently, and his body went limp. Ulf used his good arm to roll the dead man off him and got clumsily to his feet. Blood was running freely down his side, and his arm hurt like mad, but he was alive. Alexis, however, just stood there quivering. There was a strange expression on her face. It was a mix of exaltation and pain, and he noticed something else. She no longer looked on the verge of death. The weight was back, and her color had improved. In fact, she seemed to be glowing. She reached out to touch him, and he reflexively backed away.

“Please,” she whimpered, “please, I need to…”

He didn’t know what she meant, but he stopped moving. She touched him, and the glow around her faded. There was a sharp popping sound, and pain shot through his entire body. He felt his arm straighten, and the flow of blood from his cut stopped. Alexis removed her hand and fell to the ground crying. He just stood there, not knowing what to think or do.

“You, uh, killed him,” he said after a while.

“I told you killing wasn’t the problem.” she snapped.

The tears continued to pour down her face, and Ulf was feeling uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to so much naked emotion, and he certainly didn’t understand why she gave a damn about a petty thief lying dead on the ground.

“It was either him or me, you didn’t have much choice,” he said in a matter of fact tone.

“You don’t understand,” she said through the sobs. “It’s different when I kill.”

“O.K., so I don’t understand, but the bastard’s dead, and we’re not. That’s cause for celebration in my book, not tears.”

He walked over to Greg and picked up his club. The man was unconscious but still breathing.

“You might want to turn away,” he said. “This ain't going to be fun to watch.”

This was the part of the business he hated. He delivered two quick, savage blows to the man’s skull. Gods how he hated that sound. He wiped the club on the man’s shirt and began picking through his clothing. After all, you have to be practical. Alexis had regained her composure by the time he was done disposing of the bodies.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked.

For a long moment, she sat there motionless. “I’m a Vessel,” she said suddenly.

Ulf guessed this was supposed to mean something, but he had no idea what. “A what?” He asked.

“A Vessel,” she replied. “I store magic, but I can do nothing with it.”

“But,” he said, “You just killed a man with magic! And you healed me and the boy.”

“You don’t understand. I did nothing more than give and take energy.”

Ulf was utterly perplexed. “I still don’t understand. Two people are alive that should be dead, and one is dead that should be alive thanks to magic. Yet you say you can’t do anything with it.”

Alexis looked at him with a pleading expression. It seemed important that he understood, so he gave it another try.

“I’m a simple man, try to explain it simply.”

She sighed. “I do not know if I can. Think of me like a mug. I either have beer in me, or I don’t. I can’t brew the beer or drink the beer, only hold it. Now imagine the keg is all the magic in the world and you are, well…you. You want to get drunk, so you fill me up then empty me, but the beer makes you drunk, not me. That is all I do, I facilitate the transfer of magic from one place to another. I didn’t heal you or the boy. I gave you each energy, and your bodies used that energy to repair itself. I didn’t technically kill that man, I simply filled a mug, and he was the keg.”

“But,” Ulf said, “It’s the same thing.”

“No, it isn’t,” she retorted. “The line may be fine, but it is an important one.”

Ulf didn’t see the difference. Technically, the club had killed Greg, but any sane man would say is was Ulf that did the deed. He didn’t know that it made any difference in any case. No matter the means, it was a neat trick to have.

“Well however it happened, I say it’s a good thing to have going for you.”

“No, it really isn’t,” she said. “There are other drawbacks to being a Vessel. When other mages use magic, they regain their power over time. I don’t.”

“What do you mean?” Ulf asked.

“I mean, a mug can’t fill itself, idiot!” She barked. “I have to be filled, and for that, I need a source. For me to regain my energy, I must take it from another living thing. If I am careful, I can do it without killing, but it is such a euphoric experience that it is difficult to stop. And if I take too much, I overflow. If I don’t do something with the extra power, it will kill me. That is why I needed to give it to you. I can only hold so much, and to take enough from that man to kill him put me far beyond my capacity. You were severely wounded, and your body put the extra energy to use immediately. So, you see, it looked like I healed you, but I was only pouring the beer.”

She stood up and walked away. “I need to check on the boy.”