Miter needed a hand getting himself back on his feet; he’d landed on his bad hand, and couldn’t use it at all. One of the guardsen hauled him up by the shoulders and leaned him against a railing before squinting into his face and breaking out into laughter.
“I can’t believe it – Miter!”
He smiled as Golot dealt him an enthusiastic hug. Behind her, Doren was helping a stunned-looking Gove to her feet, collecting the scattered contents of her basket, and Ildie was staring into the fog after their lost quarry.
“You nearly had her, old man!” Golot smacked him on the shoulder as she handed him his staff. “How you got in front of her, I couldn’t guess.”
“Who was that–”
“Give it up, Ildie! She’s gone. Come here and look who it is!”
Miter was quickly surrounded. Doren and Ildie quickly boxed Gove and him in against the railing, all three guards delighted to see him.
“What has it been, five years? Six?”
“Miter, last I heard you’d settled down in a swamp!”
“Don’t tell me you’re still using the walking stick?”
He caught Golot’s half-mocking, half worried grin. “It’s useful – I like to be prepared.” She snorted in response.
“You do! You always did. And don’t say I didn’t learn from you!” She stepped back and brandished a blade as long as her forearm, as Ildie whistled. “What do you think, Miter? Jealous you didn’t get one?”
They’d never used blades like that in his time. “You aren’t telling me Yaska’s letting you all slice yourselves up with these nowadays?” Miter could feel the old familiar banter returning.
Doren smirked. “She bought these for us herself. Everyone who’s done the circuit ten times gets one.”
Miter wasn’t sure he believed that, though he wasn’t going to argue – but his face must have betrayed him.
“You haven’t heard, hey?” Ildie nudged Doren. “You should tell him.”
Doren made eye contact with Golot, and Miter could see them shrug off Ildie’s comment.
“I’m sure he doesn’t need to hear more about Yaska.” Golot caught Miter’s eye and winked, and then she leaned against the railing and gave Gove the once-over. “So, you Miter’s new flame?”
Gove looked like a rabbit gone tharn, and Miter interjected; “Golot, what are you doing?”
Golot nudged Gove’s shoulder. “Just saying, you used to like them a little older –”
Gove squeaked out, eyes on the ground; “I’d never – with a m–”
Miter interrupted as fast as he could. “I knew it, dagger or no dagger. You’re still just a hopeless gossip, after all these years.”
Doren laughed at Golot’s expression. “You don’t forget a thing! Still our commander at heart, hey?”
Golot rolled her eyes. “Once a guard, always a guard. Well, you heard him, boys. Time to be useful.” She hefted the single pelt they held. “Let’s go break the bad news to our captain.”
They walked off, heads together, thick as thieves. Miter knew he shouldn’t have pulled rank, given he had no rank anymore, but Golot always got under his skin. There was no need to pick on Gove…
Right, Gove; who had clearly not missed a word of that exchange, and was staring at him with sharp betrayal on her face.
“No wonder you don’t listen.” She was hissing through her teeth. “You’re guardsen.”
This wasn’t how he had planned on this conversation happening.
“Gove – I’ve retired –”
But she was gone, already invisible in the fog, footsteps fading into the distance.