A tapping beyond the ruined threshold halted Tomasz. He twisted around, smiling at the sight of Oj Pavel hobbling downthe short walk. His gait was odd, and he leaned heavily on a cane, jaw set in a determined scowl.
Tomasz raised a hand in greeting, starting for the door when Oj Pavel stopped. Despite the bitter cold and bright sun, he whipped a worn fur cap off his head and crushed it in a gnarled fist.
“Everything alright, Oj Pavel?” Tomasz called out.
The old man said nothing. Instead, he spat twice, crossed himself, and shoved a hand deep into the pocket of his coat.
“Come in!” Tomasz hurried to the door, gripping the frame to lean over the rubble. “Around the side, we are open.”
Oj Pavel shook his head, muttering too low to be heard. He withdrew his hand and tossed a fistful of rocksalt over the fallen thatch and timber, still muttering as he shoved the hat onto his head, turned, and ambled away.
Tomasz watched until he hobbled out of sight, perplexed by the odd behavior until a howl tore his attention away.
Stars twinkled in a dark sky overhead, the trees dancing in the wind scattering their light like dusted glass glittering over snow.
Tomasz whirled like a top, tracking the empty tavern, the dust on the bar, the fallen night, and when he faced the door again, Garek stood on the threshold.
“You came back.”
“I did,” he answered in a wind-hoarse voice.
“Did you see an old man? Oj Pavel?” Tomasz leapt atop the mess in the doorway, gripping the frame to lean out. He craned his neck in a futile attempt to see further down the road. “He was not moving well, and the gates will close soon.”
“They have closed.” Garek tugged his scarf low. Plush lips, cherry red amidst a dark brown beard, pursed. “And in all the miles I have ridden this night, I have come across none but you.”
An odd twist to his words pulled Tomasz’s attention from the road to the hulking man on his doorstep. “None?”
“None,” Garek confirmed. With a sweep of his hand, the cowl covering his head fell back. Thick, dark hair curled around his temples, barely restrained at the nape of his neck by a thin leather tie, the ends of which dangled to his shoulder.
Flint-bright eyes scanned Tomasz intently, and it struck him that their appearances could not have been more dissimilar. Tomasz was slight and fair-haired, with dark eyes the color of churned earth. Garek was broad, his shoulders filling the doorway, and the depths of his hair made those eyes glint like freshly polished steel.
Tomasz stared, aware he was staring, but how could he not? Garek was all-encompassing. Commanding to a degree that even the proudest of men would obey.
“Come in.”
Garek’s lips parted, and only then was Tomasz aware he had spoken.
He cleared his throat, easing off the mound of thatch and ice. His heel slipped. The rubble shifted.
Garek darted out a hand, grabbing Tomasz by the wrist and hauling him upright. Soft leather burned against his skin, too soft to be layman’s wear, too worn to be anything but. His grip was as strong as expected. Stronger even, fingers flexing and tightening as Garek steadied him.
But the true surprise was when he did not let go.
Those eyes burned into him, silver and steel shifting and writhing like liquid metal in the smithy until the tavern vanished to ash and dust. Until the path to the road and the wood and world beyond were less than a memory.
Until Garek was the beginning and the end.
Tomasz worked his jaw, his tongue forcing words he barely had the presence of mind to think.
“Please,” he said, “come in.”
Garek let go as quickly as he had taken hold. His jaw tightened beneath the beard, and as the night before, he gave one brief nod.
“Be careful getting down.” That stone against stone voice rumbled.
Tomasz lowered himself carefully from the rubble, keeping his attention on the man in his doorway. He stood to the side as Garek entered. As before, he pulled the scarf free and tucked it into a pocket. The gloves followed, and this time, so did the coat.
It was a tattered, heavy thing. Dirty from the road and weather, but clearly of fine quality. Or at least, once upon a time, it had been.