Bastion

elbow.
    “I’ll teach you,” Bear promised.
    “Or I will,” said Mags. “Everybody should know how to cook.” Now that he was not so tired, he was being careful of his speech again. “That’s one of the things Nikolas was teaching me.” He didn’t mention that Nikolas was teaching him how to cook over the tiny fireplace in the little pawn shop the two of them ran in a rough part of Haven—a shop that bought information as often as it bought dubious goods. He didn’t have to. Bear and Lena were privy to the fact that King’s Own Herald Nikolas wasn’t primarily teaching him how to cook—he was teaching Mags how to be a spy.
    Ordinarily, some other senior Herald would have been teaching Mags that particular task when they were out in the Field, riding the Herald’s Circuit, but the two of them had to eat while they were between customers, and Nikolas never let an opportunity for some kind of lesson go to waste. And after all, no pawnbroker in their part of town would ever lock up to go to a cookshop for food and take the risk of missing a customer. Being able to fry or stew something up for himself merely added to the verisimilitude of the character he was supposed to be.
    “What?” asked Halleck, throwing his long legs over the bench and sliding in next to Mags. “Why would Herald Nikolas be teaching you to—” For a moment, Mags thought he had made a terrible blunder. Nikolas was the King’s Own Herald, and a very important personage; there was no good reason why he should be doing a lowly task like teaching Mags to cook. But then suddenly Halleck colored with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Mags, I’m an idiot.”
    Well, that was an unexpected response. Mags gave his friend and fellow Kirball player a sideways look. It appeared that Halleck had given him a reason for something that was unreasonable—he just had to find it out without directly asking. “I know you’re an idiot, but why are you admitting it just now?”
    Normally Halleck would have mock-punched his shoulder for that, but he only flushed deeper. “Because you and Amily—and up until Bear fixed her leg—” He passed a hand over his face. “It’s not like it would’ve been safe for her to cook if you two were alone somewhere—but, I mean, I shouldn’t’ve just come out and said that.”
    Finally it dawned on Mags where Halleck was coming from, and he had to work to keep from grinning. Halleck was right, of course—if for some reason he and Amily had been somewhere together where they couldn’t just get food (like the Collegium) or buy food (like an inn or a cookshop or a baker), one of the two of them would have had to do the cooking if they were going to eat. And Amily had been pretty heavily handicapped for kitchen work with the way her leg had been all twisted up. She’d never have two hands to cook with, since one would always be involved in helping her balance. She couldn’t handle anything heavy. And she’d have been unable to get out of the way of danger if she’d had an accident. And, yes, Halleck was a little bit of a boor for saying so. But he’d given Mags the perfect explanation of his own slip-up.
    “Well, now we both have to learn,” Mags pointed out. “’Specially if she decides she’s coming with me on Circuit, which she might well. She’s stubborn that way.” It wasn’t unheard of for the mates of childless Heralds, or those whose children were grown, to accompany them on Circuit. And after seeing Amily’s determination to make herself a partner, not a burden, to Mags, he had the notion this was exactly what Amily had in mind.
    A few moons ago, he would have had some serious doubts about the wisdom of this idea. Now—well, as long as she could hold her own, defensively, he knew there was no question. Who knew how long he’d be at risk from his parents’ clan? And if he was at risk, so was she. He would much rather have her with him than be fretting away half his nights, worrying about her.
    “I reckon I’ll f’give you for being a ham-handed idiot, but better not let her ever know what you were thinking,” he said, and passed Halleck the porridge. “Are we all goin’ down to Harvest Fair in a bunch, or what?”
    “Amily’d kill us if we hared off without you two,” said Bear, knowingly. “Last night she was dropping all kinds of hints about how we should do things ‘the way we used to,’ and all.”
    Mags had to chuckle. “You are married,” he pointed out. “That