The blacksmith sat up, still in a daze, but the sight of the holes burnt into his beard seemed to wake him more than the water. He glared at Tobias and without a word. pointed to the door. So much for that idea.

As Tobias and the Witch exited the smithy, they found Bat Anat standing outside waiting for them.

Tobias tilted his head.

Bat Anat grinned at him for turning her words on her.

Bat Anat nodded to the Witch and said, "Take care of the slave girl. It may be that your God has daughters and sons after all."

She tipped her bow to him and then went on her way. There was nothing more for him in Taher, so if they were going to head west, they would do well to keep moving. There was no telling when people would come looking for them.

Tobias might have simply passed through and continued on his way, but the Witch was looking somewhat sickly, so he thought it would be good to give her a warm meal and proper lodgings for the night. He knew of a place, a tavern called the Fruitful Vine, that should serve to that end.

He had never been there before, so when he discovered that it was quite popular with the men of the Hemet Baldur garrison, he started to second-guess his choice, but it appeared that their attention was wholly focused on the dancing girls, so perhaps they would not draw much notice if they took one of the empty tables near the back.

He would have liked some meat, but he knew that it would not be prepared according to the Law, so he settled for a platter of greens and some bread. He ordered a bowl of broth for the Witch, thinking it would do her some good. She always seemed so reluctant to eat or drink. It was no doubt contributing to the apparent decline of her health. Thankfully, though, she did take some bread, dip it in the broth and quietly nibbled away at it. After offering up a quick prayer or thanksgiving and asking forgiveness if he might trespass in eating any of this food, Tobias started to eat as well.

Besides ensuring that the Witch was eating, Tobias was keeping an eye out in case someone among the patrons were paying any undue attention to their little corner of the tavern. In spite of himself, he found his eyes straying to the dancing girls, one of them in particular. So this was what she was doing with herself.

Her name was Delilah, not exactly an auspicious name among the Yehudim. In fact, Tobias' grandfather insisted she go by Tamar. Her parents were servants in his grandfather's household and the two of them were friends as children. After his parents died and he was taken in by Sir Bomilcar, Tobias saw little of her and some eight years ago she ran away from home. Only a few years earlier did he hear from her parents that she had taken up work here at the Fruitful Vine, but he never had the opportunity to check up on her.

The last time he saw her, she had a growth spurt that left her nearly as tall as he was but disproportionately long-limbed and skinny, What a difference the years had made. She had since fully blossomed into womanhood but with the well-toned physique of an athlete to complement her womanly curves. He had never quite looked at a woman that way before and a part of him felt like he never needed to again. Of course the other dancing girls were comely in their own ways, but to him at least, it was like looking at a single freshly minted gold coin among a pile of coppers.

It just so happened that while he was watching her, she took notice of him. She did not miss a step in her dance or a beat with her timbrel, but her eyes kept returning to him and the moment the song ended and the dancers withdrew from the stage, she made her way directly to his table.

Her face brightened as she exclaimed, "Tobiyah!"

Just as she would do when she was a little girl, she threw herself at him, kissing him repeatedly and hugging him tightly.

Although it felt incredibly awkward to do so, Tobias clumsily returned her embrace, saying, "I've missed you too, Delilah. What has it been, eight years?"

Letting go of him, she stuck out her chest proudly and said, "I certainly filled out, didn't I? I'm not that stringy beanpole you remember."

Delilah looked down at herself and asked him, "What's wrong? Don't like what you see?" She then gave him a sly grin. "Or do you like it a little too much?"

Tobias unhooked his cloak and offered it to her. She smiled and wrapped herself in it, saying, "I don't want to distract you too much, Tobiyah, but if there's any man welcome to look his fill, it's you. Of course, you don't have to settle for just looking."

Tobias cleared his throat again and Delilah laughed.

Tobias said nothing.

Before she could propose anything to amend his inexperience with women, she seemed to notice the Witch for the first time.

Her face fell. Being the child of bondservants, she had a deep-set hatred of slavery. Most other noble houses would have hunted her down for running off like she did and then sold her off to one of the port brothels. In the back of Tobias' mind, he wondered if her current situation was much different, but that was not important at the moment.

Hearing this, Delilah breathed a sigh of relief.

Delilah took a moment to look over the Witch and it seemed to Tobias that jealousy and pity were at war in her mind. Thankfully, pity appeared to win out in the end.

Tobias didn't know how much of this was Delilah sporting with him and how much of it was her true feelings talking. Regardless, there was no saying how far she would take things, but Tobias was spared having to find his own way to extricate himself from the situation when another voice entered the conversation.

Tobias looked up to see a man with lazy eyes and unruly hair. He looked to Delilah, then back to the man. He should have known better. His mother warned him about such women.

Marcus once again took notice of Tobias and offered him his hand.

Tobias accepted his hand and realizing he could not use an assumed name with Delilah there (and because she had already used his name in front of Marcus), he introduced himself as "Tobiyah ben Yishak."

Marcus touched his hand to his heart in an affected gesture of being moved.

Marcus grinned.

Tobias did not want the conversation to go on any longer, so he asked Delilah, "Will you do what I asked you?"

She placed her hand on his chest again and asked him, "Are you sure you don't want to take me up on my offer?"

It took every ounce of his willpower to say, "Yes, I'm sure. Just take care of the girl for me, please."

Delilah sighed.

She giggled and kissed him on the cheek before springing up from his knee and making her way back to the stage. As she passed Marcus, he gave her a swat on the rear, saying, "Make 'em beg, my lovely."

Marcus continued to watch her as she went, but he was speaking to Tobias when he said, "She really is something, isn't she? Eight years ago I find this awkward little sproutling wandering the streets and I see potential. I know if I don't snatch her up right away, somebody else will. Sure, she didn't trust me at first, but a hungry dog doesn't shy away for long.

"I was like a gardener cultivating that little sproutling. It took three years of work for her to blossom into the fine specimen you see before you today. Ever since I've been asking her to marry me time and time again and each time she refuses, like she's holding out for something. I couldn't imagine what that might be, but then you come along."

Marcus turned to look at Tobias.

Though he maintained a pleasant facade, there was a sinister edge to Marcus' voice. Tobias was not particularly interested in playing along with his game, whatever it was.

Marcus grinned, saying, "If there's one thing I hate, it's a fair fight, but we have to keep things interesting, don't we? You will enjoy all the best the Fruitful Vine has to offer. Perhaps when you have been filled with my hospitality, I might steal you away from her. That would be a fitting revenge."

He placed his hand on Tobias', who quickly pulled it back. Marcus laughed.

His attention turned to the Witch and he asked Tobias, "So what's the story with this slave girl?"

Tobias did not know if Marcus was simply making sport of him or if his advances were genuine. Either way, he wanted it to stop. Was this what tavern wenches had to put up with? Was this what Delilah had to endure all this time?

He had to tread lightly, though. Marcus was Delilah's employer and any offense Tobias caused could have consequences for her. He certainly did not want that.

While he was agonizing over what to do, it seemed that the song had ended and Delilah returned to the table.

Marcus looked at the Witch, then looked back to Delilah and asked her, "Mind if I join in?"

Tobias, having heard his fill, cleared his throat.

He reached out for her with his hand, but she gracefully slid beyond his grasp and took the Witch by the hand, telling her, "Come on then. Let's see what we can do with you."

The Witch looked to Tobias, who nodded to encourage her to go along with Delilah. Honestly, it seemed like she was willing to be led off by Delilah if it meant getting away from Marcus. Tobias had noticed her watching the tavernkeeper's antics with some annoyance. Even without understanding a word of their language, it did not seem to take much for her to get the measure of the kind of man Marcus was.

As Delilah walked away with the Witch, Marcus turned his attention back to Tobias, but it would appear that his interest had waned, much to Tobias' relief.

Marcus rapped on the table and then went to tend to his other guests. Tobias was thankful for getting a moment's peace at last.

As he was putting his cloak back on, he noticed the lingering scent of Delilah's perfume. He did not know enough about perfumes to be able to identify what kind it was. All he knew was that it was a pleasant scent, though it may have had more to do with the one wearing the scent than the scent itself. There was a part of him that cursed the sense of honor that kept from taking her up on her invitation.

Yes, it would not be honorable to lay a hand on any woman other than his wife, but he could not take Delilah for a wife. By every measure, it could not be. They were not of the same race nor creed nor class. They were not a suitable match by any of the necessary conditions for marriage. It would be foolish to speak of his feelings. They did not matter in the first place and even if they did, it was nothing more than being taken at the sight of an old friend grown beautiful. Nothing could come of it. Nothing should come of it.

Of course, as he thought of his position, he remembered that he was a traitor and a murderer. If he was not captured and put to death first, his only choice was to flee the kingdom, never to return. That made for a more compelling reason why there could not be anything more between him and Delilah than the lingering memories of childhood friendship.

And it was with this cheery thought that he decided he would go find a proper stable for his horse and then retire to his room for the evening.

It had been nearly four days straight since he had last taken off his armor. Normally you would at least take off your armor while camped, but because he did not know when pursuers might appear, he did not dare risk leaving himself undefended. It was much the same as the times he had been on campaign. You never knew when an attack might come and because the raids were not intended to make permanent inroads into enemy territory, their camps would only have rudimentary fortifications at best.

There was a bronze laver in the room along with a pitcher of scented oil, a strigil and various other implements, as well as a simple linen tunic to change into after bathing. It had been four days, after all. Perhaps he could also get his clothes laundered before they set out again in the morning.

He stripped out of his clothes, taking a moment to look ruefully at the bruises left from his fight with the Guardsmen and marks made by the straps of his armor. He needed to be thankful he was no worse for wear.

There were some people who would go straight for the oil, but Tobias preferred to wash himself with water first. Rather than just scooping up water to pour on himself, he wetted a linen cloth to wipe himself off so there would be less of a mess for the servants to clean up later. He then took the pitcher of oil and let it run down from the crown of his head down his body. He did not much like the scent that was added to the oil, but surely it smelled better than sweat and grime.

While he was rubbing in the oil, he could hear the door open.

Tobias hastily snatched up the linen cloth he was using to cover himself. He then turned to see Delilah and the Witch standing in the doorway. Delilah was covering the Witch's eyes, but she was not doing the same herself.

Grinning, Delilah replied, "I'll never knock on another door again if this is what I get for it."

Turning the Witch around, Delilah walked over to him, saying, "And who's going to get your back?"

She started scraping the oil off his back and by this point he realized that his objections were not going to get him anywhere. In truth, the prospect of her tending to him was a little exciting, but that presented its own problems.

Running her hands over his shoulder blades, Delilah said, "I do love a pair of broad shoulders on a man."

Despite sounding genuinely wounded just a moment before, she went right back back to teasing him, saying, "Are you curious? Jealous?"

To emphasize the latter point, she pressed herself up against him.

Delilah backed off.

She certainly was not making this any easier for him. Before he could say anything more, she came around to his side, where she saw one of the purplish bruises on his ribs.

She looked back to the Witch, prompting Tobias to look back at her as well. She was just standing there impassively, watching the two of them. Delilah was clever enough to start piecing things together.

Even as he said those words, he was thinking over everything that could happen and the guilt of it was more than he could bear.

He was not listening. It felt like he had fallen into a pit and was slowly sinking into the mire.

To stop his descent down the spiral of guilt, Delilah took hold of him by the cheeks and said, "Tobiyah, take me with you."

This gave her pause. She bit her lip, showing some anxiety that told Tobias that Marcus was no mere harmless libertine. He suspected from the start that there was a darker side to him, but his nature might actually prove useful under the circumstances.

Delilah quietly nodded. She then looked up at him and managed a weak grin. She held up the strigil and asked him, "You going to let me do the rest?"

Tobias blushed.

He knew she was being playful to try and distract him, to distract herself from the seriousness of their situation, but he did not follow her lead. Rather, in all earnestness, he told her, "We shouldn't do anything we'll regret."

Just as seriously, Delilah replied, "People regret the things they didn't do more than the things they did do, Tobiyah."

Even so, she did not try to press him any farther. She kissed him on the cheek, then went back over to the Witch and said, "We'll be waiting outside. Hurry and finish up."

They left the room and Tobias quickly scraped off the rest of the oil, wiped up the floor a little, then got dressed. He then called Delilah and the Witch back in.

Resting her hands on the Witch's shoulders, Delilah said, "I went for the Greek style. It'll be a problem keeping the pins in place when you're riding, but I couldn't think of any other way to dress her with those chains." She looked at the pile of Tobias' clothes and asked, "You want me to get them washed for you?"

Ignoring him, Delilah went over and scooped up the pile, saying, "It's no trouble. It'll be like old times. Surely I washed your clothes enough times to know what I'm doing. Besides, that bath'll be wasted if you just put these dirty things back on again. I'll have them ready for you by morning." She then took hold of the Witch's wrist and said, "The girl can sleep with me. Unless you want to change your mind, that is."

Surprisingly, the Witch planted her feet and refused to be led off.

The Witch shook her head. Delilah seemed to figure out what was going on well before Tobias had even the faintest clue.

She smiled and said, "Well, looks like someone doesn't want to part with you again, Tobiyah."

Tobias was rather surprised at this. He did not think that the Witch had any particular fondness for him, but perhaps it was just a matter of the devil that you know, as they say.

Tobias did not see much point in bringing up the fact that you had to be a matron to be a chaperon. It would not have made much difference to Delilah.

This was the second time she had said this to him, but if anything, he felt his problem was that he did not think enough. There would be no arguing with her about it, though. However, he did not yield to her entirely. When the time came, he resisted her entreaties to join her and the Witch in bed.

In her seemingly newfound attachment to Tobias, the Witch reached out to clutch at his tunic for reassurance while Delilah hugged her like a doll. Sleep did not come easily to Tobias, for the day had left him with a lot to think about. Things that once seemed simple proved to be more complicated than he realized and more than ever, the consequences of his actions weighed on him. He had had many restless nights before, but now more than ever he feared he might never rest easy again.