This story has been split into three parts.

It was all coming together. The tourney was still a month away, but Buck knew that everything was going to work out just as he hoped. Things had been going far too well for it to be any different. He and John had been working hard and had produced a goodly number of small trinkets to sell: flowers, swords crossed over shields, even a couple of trees for the forest that bordered Vierecken.

Lying back on his bed, getting ready to start a new day, Buck admitted to himself that he was no fine craftsman. He was a blacksmith and proud of his abilities so the knowledge that he would never be a jeweler did not upset him. He had some skill with decorative work, though. It had enabled him to create the gold cover for Ezra's tooth and the flower that had been the inspiration for all these trinkets. He was pleased with how well they had turned out; even when he tried to be unbiased he thought they were good work and likely to sell well.

He had not been sure that they would be able to make this work. He had known he could count on John and Ezra to try, of course, but it was a lot of work for three men who had to continue with their normal activities at the same time. With four additional sets of hands, though, the work had been finished quickly and easily. He was still a little amazed by how well they all worked together. He and Christopher were old comrades, so it had only been natural for the two of them to fall back into the patterns of cooperation. He had not expected everyone else to be able to do the same.

Christopher and Vincent had formed an instant bond. Buck almost wanted to be jealous of it - it was strange to see an old friend working so well with someone he had just met. The respect and enjoyment between the two men was clear, though, and Buck could not begrudge either of them the pleasure of finding a new source of friendship: both of them had far too few.

That bond was extended to a lesser extent to the rest of their oddly assorted little group. Some of them naturally gravitated more toward each other than the others, but they all got along and were friendly. Buck was grateful for that; having friends was wonderful, but having them all get along was even better. He liked the feeling of belonging to a group. It was one of the things he had missed most when he had given up soldiering to settle down, but he had it again now.

He did not want to give it up. He knew he would have to once the tourney was over. After that, there would be nothing holding Josiah and Nathan in town, no reason for Christopher or Vincent to linger. Hell, even Ezra was thinking of leaving.

Ezra. Buck shifted irritably. He did not like thinking about him leaving; it made him uncomfortable and restless, giving him the urge to seek out Ezra and make sure that he was still in town. He had never understood why Ezra had stayed in Vierecken as long as he had, but he had grown used to the other man's presence and had come to rely on his friendship. He did not know what his life would be like without Ezra in it: the green-eyed man made him laugh and made him think and he would miss him if he left.

If he left. Buck still had a month to work on him and convince him to stay. He did not want Ezra to leave and he was not going to just stand idly by and watch it happen. He liked Ezra, like his humor and his fancy way of acting and the way he looked at the world sideways.

He thought he had a good chance of convincing Ezra if he just kept working at it. The other man had certainly seemed happier over the course of the past month. He laughed more and easier and seemed more sociable and at ease. He had disappeared into the woods fewer times recently as well. Buck had noticed that Ezra seemed to need to escape to the forest from time to time, but that need had not been driving him and he had spent more time in town. Buck was certain the friendship among the seven of them was what had changed for him.

Ezra had always been friendly with Josiah and Nathan, happily battling verbally with Josiah over philosophical and religious questions long after everyone else had lost interest. Ezra could spend hours questioning Nathan about his homeland and the other countries he had seen and what traveling was like. He had extended some of that questioning to Christopher, asking him about the different duchies he had passed through and fought in. He was able to push Christopher off balance, to irritate and aggravate him, but he also could make the other man laugh and that had sealed friendship between them. Ezra and Vincent had been friends from the beginning.

Vincent...Buck was not quite sure what the other man was doing. Vincent was still a good man, a friend willing to help out any way he could, be it doing work or providing company. Buck had no complaints about that. He was concerned about the way Vincent was continuing to act around Ezra, though. He was still very focused on Ezra, going out of his way to make the other man laugh and do other things to catch his attention. He was the first to greet Ezra, and he was constantly offering to go with him to get a meal or help him with simple tasks. Vincent had not acted like that the last time he was in Vierecken and Buck could not understand what had changed. A dark, jealous part of Buck whispered that perhaps Vincent knew that Ezra was thinking about leaving town and was somehow trying to convince Ezra to leave with him after the tourney.

Thinking of that possibility made Buck restless enough to push himself up from the bed. He was not going to lie about in bed and let Vincent have extra time to work on Ezra. He would just have to work a little harder to keep the two of them apart until he figured out what exactly Vincent was trying to accomplish.

He dressed quickly and was soon out the door, walking through the pale morning light to reach the smithy. He was getting a later start than usual and Vierecken had already come to life, people moving about their business. He waved and nodded to those he passed, greeting them with true pleasure. He liked his neighbors, enjoyed their friendship and their acceptance.

John was waiting for him, the smithy already prepared for the day thanks to his ministrations. He was a fine apprentice and a good man and Buck was grateful all over again for the chance to be the one to train him. He learned quickly and brought a lot of joy to the work they did together.

"Good morning," Buck said. "You have gotten to a good start."

"I have a good teacher," John countered. "A teacher who has not told me what we will be doing today, but he is still a good teacher."

Buck cuffed him lightly, play tussling with him for a few moments before releasing him. "Today we will be returning to our usual tasks. For this morning, at least."

John nodded, settling down and getting right to work. Fixing broken plowshares, drawing nails, and repairing wagon parts might not have the same excitement attached to them as creating objects for the tourney, but it was what paid the bills and helped their neighbors and it could not be put off. These were simple, familiar tasks and Buck was able to work at them with only half his attention focused on them. It helped that he could trust John with the majority of the work, knowing that John would do good work.

The morning drifted by while he worked and soon it was time for a break for noon meal. He and John cleaned up the smithy, getting ready to take a deserved break.

The sound of raised voices distracted them from their work. "What is that?" John asked, cocking his head to the side. Fighting was rare in Vierecken; the locals were too close knit, too dependent on each other for survival to waste time with arguments or physical altercations.

"I do not know." Catching up a medium-sized hammer, Buck walked over to the door. He could feel his blood running faster, the way it always did just before battle. "Stay inside."

He stepped out into the daylight, squinting a little bit in the bright light. It only took him a few moments to find the source of the noise: a group of men at arms were standing around Nathan in a semi-circle. They were casting insults at him, asking what he was doing in their country and threatening him with physical violence.

Buck had seen this before: it was in the nature of bullies to single out someone who was different and then attack. These eight men were no different. No doubt passing through Vierecken while escorting a merchant to Lanceton, they had seen Nathan and believed he was easy prey.

They were about to find out differently.

Buck began walking down the street toward them, but before he could call out and gain their attention, Christopher was there, Josiah at his side.

"What is going on here?" Christopher's voice was soft, dangerous.

"Nothing of your concern," said one of the soldiers.

"Ah," said Ezra, walking up behind Buck, as Vincent and John appeared on the other side of him. "Then you will have no problem with our friend joining us for noon meal. Nathan, are you hungered?"

"I could eat," Nathan answered. His voice was steady, controlled. He was not showing any fear, despite the number of men close to him. He stepped off to the side, trying to circle around the men at arms.

The soldiers were not willing to give up on their fun so easily. Their leader moved to step in front of Nathan. "I did not say you could go."

"You are finished with him," Buck said, moving closer, Ezra and John at his side. "No one in this town wants any trouble. Do not give us any."

"Big talk for a man without a sword." The leader did not sneer, exactly, but his tone was definitely provocative.

Too bad for him Christopher very rarely needed any sort of provocation to start a fight, especially when someone threatened a person he called friend. "Last warning," Christopher said.

If the soldier was stupid enough not to realize how dangerous a hammer could be, then Buck doubted he would be smart enough to recognize the danger presented by Christopher. He was not surprised; the leader turned his disdain toward Christopher and that was all it took to begin the brawl.

Christopher moved forward quickly, slamming his fist into the leader's belly, then kneeing him in the face when the man doubled over in pain. Not pausing for a moment, Christopher moved on to the next man closest to him. Nearby, Josiah was using his strength against a third man, slamming him repeatedly into the wall until he was limp and unresisting. Buck had always suspected the traveling preacher had a more violent past then he let on and this looked to be proof of that.

Buck wasted no time joining the fray; he had friends in danger and he could not just stand by and watch. A few quick running steps put him right in the middle of it. He lay about with his hammer, aiming for soft bellies and padded shoulders. Doing serious damage to the soldiers could bring trouble on the town from unhappy merchants, but that did not mean he could not hurt them at all. So long as they were able to ride out of Vierecken and do their jobs, he, and the town, would be safe. The soldiers were playing by the same rules; they had swords, but they were not drawing them.

His old skill returned to him as if it had never left and perhaps it had not. He was able to concentrate on protecting himself and still keep an eye on the other men around him, just as he had when he was a mercenary. He saw that Vincent was accounting for himself well and knew he did not have to worry for him. He reserved his concern for Ezra, John, and Nathan: none of them were fighters.

He discovered that he needed not to worry about Nathan. Apparently learning how to heal people also taught a person how to hurt them. Nathan was mostly concentrating on staying out of the soldiers' way, but when he had no choice and had to defend himself, he made every blow count.

Ezra and John were revelations. Buck had expected to need to scramble to save them, but they were holding their own as they fought side by side. Ezra fought dirty, quick and hard and devastating in his own way, flicking dirt toward eyes one moment and slamming his knee into an unprotected crotch the next. He still threw punches, but only he didn't have an opportunity to pull something sneaky. Ezra had apparently been giving John lessons when Buck was not paying attention. His apprentice was showing the definite influence of Ezra's tutelage.

Making a note to ask John about his secret lessons - and to find out how he made a couple of moves - Buck did his best to stay near Ezra, just in case the other man needed him. Ezra was not a fighter, no matter how well he handled himself and Buck did not want him to be injured because of a stranger's stupidity.

After a few more minutes it was all over. The soldiers were in full retreat, beaten but able to move enough to retreat, to do their jobs. Christopher looked as though he would like to follow them and continue the lesson.

"Christopher!" Buck waited until he had his friend's attention. "Let them go."

Christopher held his gaze for a moment, then nodded reluctantly.

"Nathan, are you all right?" Josiah was immediately by the other man's side.

"I am. Thank you. Thank all of you." Nathan drew in a deep breath. "That was unpleasant."

"Most unpleasant," Ezra agreed. "Somehow, I do not think it will happen again."

"Not unless they want to get beaten again," John said cockily.

"Watch yourself," Buck said. He did not want the younger man to get overconfident and get hurt. "You are a blacksmith, not a fighter."

John scowled at him.

Ezra reached out and touched the dark-haired man's shoulder. "You did well."

"Did I?" John forgot his irritation with Buck. "I tried to remember what you taught me, but it was not easy when there were people all around."

"You remembered enough to keep yourself and the rest of us whole and healthy. That is all you have to do."

Now it was Buck's turn to scowl. "I want to hear about that soon."

"About what?" Vincent asked.

"It seems these two have been practicing behind my back. I did not know my apprentice was learning a second craft." He pinned Ezra with his gaze. "Or that you were a fighter."

"I am not a fighter," Ezra said quietly. "I am a survivor. I want John to be one, too."

Buck nodded, all teasing accusation disappearing as he reached out to grip Ezra's shoulder. "Thank you." He appreciated Ezra trying to protect John, teaching him to defend himself. That was the action of a good friend. A friend Buck did not want to lose, refused to lose without a fight. He squeezed Ezra's shoulder, then carefully looked him over, searching for sign of any hurt that Ezra might have taken and tried to conceal.

"I am fine," Ezra said.

Buck grinned and lifted his gaze back to Ezra's face. "Just making certain."

Ezra smiled up at him, green eyes warm and endless. The moment between them stretched and Buck found that he did not want it to end. There was something so comfortable, so right. It was almost as if...

"You mentioned a meal?" Nathan asked.

The moment was broken and Ezra looked down and away from Buck, taking a few steps back. "That I did, Nathan. Come."

Buck caught Vincent and John glaring at Nathan and he felt like joining them. He had felt like he was on the edge of realizing something important, something he had not even realized was wrong in his life, but the chance had passed and he was not going to call it back by staring a hole between Nathan's shoulder blades.

He followed the rest of the group into Aaron's tavern. He would figure this out. He still a month before the tourney, a month to convince Ezra to stay. He would do it. He had to.

Leaning against the wall of one of the last buildings on Vierecken's main street, Ezra watched as Christopher stood tall in the sunshine, arms crossed over his chest and legs spread in a combative stance as he dared anyone to approach him. He looked dangerous and intimidating and so far no one had tried to come close.

"Are you just going to stare at Christopher all day? Or are you going to help us?" John asked. He panted a little in between words, but that was only natural: he and Buck were carrying the table Christopher and Vincent had built.

"I think that I will watch him so long as he remains entertaining," Ezra replied. "And I shall help." He stepped over to the side. "There. I am now fully out of your way."

Buck snarled at him as he staggered past him. "Thank you."

"Why, you are welcome." Ezra smiled widely at him and went so far as to bow a bit. What was the point of having friends if you could not tease them?

Buck and John carried the heavy wide table to where Christopher was standing, setting it down just in front of him. "Thank you for holding my place," Buck said.

"Welcome," Christopher said, relaxing into a more natural posture.

"Did you have any trouble?" John asked.

"Not at all."

It was true. Ezra had been watching Christopher as he stood guard over the space where Buck wanted to set up his wares for the tourney and no one had come close to trying to take the space. The guardianship had been necessary; the tourney was but two weeks away and people had begun arriving in Vierecken in preparation for it. Men had begun to construct a dais from which the highborn would be able to spectate and they would soon begin to set up the lists for jousting.

Merchants had also begun to trickle into town, searching for places near the tourney area where they could set up their booths and display their wares. Buck had realized that he needed to claim his own space if he wanted to have a good area. Christopher had volunteered to stand guard while John and Buck fetched the table and it had worked out well. Buck's booth would be near the action, but not so close that it would be lost in the crowds that milled about the lists and other areas of interest.

Ezra walked over to join them, instead of listening from afar. "Well done," he congratulated them. "An excellent location. I believe it will bring you much wealth."

"It better," John muttered.

"What was that?" Buck asked.

"After carrying this table and spending months and weeks making pretties for the gentry, I think we deserve to get wealth."

"We?" Buck teased.

"We," John said firmly. He grinned and looked over at Christopher. "I am sure you will share your profits with everyone who helped with the work."

"Buck is a good man," Christopher said with a straight face. "I am certain he will."

"This tourney will put me in debt by the time you are through!" Buck protested.

"You did not intend to pay your friends?" Ezra asked. "Did you think they were helping out of the kindness of their hearts?"

"I suppose you wish to be paid as well?"

"Of course not." He crossed his arms over his chest. "My services are far too expensive for you to afford."

Buck raised his had as though to swat at him and Ezra ducked out of the way, laughing at the friendly outrage directed toward him. After a moment Buck began laughing as well, eyes shining in the sun. He lunged forward, but Ezra was too quick for him and he stared at Buck from the other side of the table.

Buck leaned forward to plant his fists on the table. "Do you really think you can get away from me?"

"I just did," Ezra pointed out.

"What is this?" Vincent asked, walking over with Josiah and Nathan close behind him. He had a sack cradled in his hands, as did the other two men. Josiah also had a cloth slung over his shoulder.

Ezra felt a little flair of disappointment as their game was brought to an end by the interruption. It was rare for him and Buck to play like that and he treasure those rare occasions when he could indulge in acting like a child...or a man in love. It was risky, so he tried to resist the urge to initiate a game like this to protect himself from discovery. It was for the best that they stop, but he could not help but wish it could have lasted a little longer.

"Are those my trinkets?" Buck asked, momentarily distracted.

"Yes," Vincent answered, hefting the sack in his hands.

"It is a little early to be putting them out."

"It was my idea," Ezra said.

"You want to try selling them now?"

"Not exactly." Still keeping an eye on Buck's movements in case he wanted to continue the chase, Ezra held out his hand. "The cloth, if you would, Josiah?"

Josiah handed it to him. "I admit I do not quite understand myself."

Ezra unfolded the cloth and slowly spread it over the surface of the table. "I thought it would be best to have a trial of sorts. Gentlemen, if you would now bring the trinkets to me?"

Vincent was the first to move, stepping close to Ezra and placing his sack on the table. "Do you want to see how it will look when there are people here to buy them?"

"Exactly," Ezra answered. He was still confused by Vincent's attentiveness. There was absolutely nothing in his eyes except friendly affection and if it were not for his consistency in always being the first to volunteer to help him and being more physically friendly Ezra might not have noticed anything. He had no idea what Vincent was up to, but the man had trusted him with the secret of the fact that he was a sought after criminal. Ezra could trust him even though he acted a little oddly.

He turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "I thought perhaps attempting to display these wares would be easiest if we first tried it without a crowd or an audience with which to contend."

"That is actually a really good idea," Buck said. "It will make things much easier." His smile was appreciative.

Ezra smiled back at him until he realized that he was holding Buck's gaze for longer than was proper. He jerked his gaze down to the table and he focused on arranging the trinkets from the sacks on the bright blue cloth. "There may be a second benefit as well."

"What is it?" asked Buck, gathering up some trinkets and began placing them on the cloth.

"Let me see if this works and then I will tell you." He continued his work, quickly fanning the trinkets out until with Buck's help they were spread across the cloth. Highly polished, the small metal figures shone in the sun, easily catching the eye. "Step away from the table," he requested.

"Why?" John asked.

"You are blocking the view of the table from our onlookers." Ezra himself took a step back, not wanting his own body to interfere. He was aware of the fact that the six men were looking at him in puzzlement, but he could not spare any of his attention for them. Instead, he was focusing on the men who were taking a break from building the dais and the lists and the merchants who were nearby.

The strangers looked over at the table curiously, their attention caught by the darts of light that the trinkets reflected back at the sun. It did not take long for them to begin to drift over to walk past the table, their faces revealing curiosity and interest.

"Those for sale?" asked one of the merchants who approached.

"They will be," Ezra answered quickly.

"You have them laid out now," the man pointed out.

"A test viewing," Ezra explained.

The merchant looked at him with appreciation. "Clever."

Ezra inclined his head, but did not reply. He watched as the people who wandered by looked at the contents of the table. Many of them seemed interested and he could hear snatches of conversation as they left, most of which were about the small items Buck and John had made.

Satisfaction filled him. Excellent. This had worked exactly as he had hoped. "I think that will do it." He began gathering up the trinkets and placing them back in the sacks.

"Is the over, then?" a second merchant asked.

"Until the tourney starts, yes." Ezra glanced up and met his eyes. "We have all been working quite hard for the tourney. We would all be quite upset if anything should happen to this table or its placement. Christopher especially, I believe."

On cue, Christopher crossed his arms over his chest. "Very upset."

"I see," the merchant said, understanding clear on his face. "I am sure the table will be undisturbed."

"How wonderful to hear," Ezra said. "Thank you."

The merchant smiled a little, then walked back over to mind his own wares.

"Nicely done," Ezra said to Christopher, and was rewarded with a smile.

"I think some of them would have bought today," Buck said. "Why did you stop me from trying to sell?"

"These men are not the ones you want to sell to," Ezra said. "You want the nobility and wealthy people who follow them to buy."

"Then why the preview?"

"Because these men will talk and it is very likely that some of the people you wish to attract will overhear them. They will no doubt be looking forward to seeing what you have. Also, only a very few of the merchants saw your goods and they will no doubt discuss them with those who missed them. They will be especially curious to see what will be competing with their goods. When you finally lay out the trinkets when the tourney has begun, they will hurry over to see what you have. People will notice that the merchants are curious and will want to see what they are looking at, and that will created even more interest in your trinkets."

Buck nodded his understanding. "Word of mouth. Do you really think it will work?" He began putting trinkets away as well.

"I do," Ezra said. "This is for the best. Trust in me."

"I do."

Ezra's fingers stopped moving and looked up and met Buck's gaze. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"No, thank you," Buck countered.

Feeling a blush threaten, Ezra directed his attention back down to his hands, bending his head a little more than necessary in order to hide his face. He really had to gain control of himself. Even if by some chance Buck did not notice his behavior, one of the others most certainly would. John had already guessed; how many more people did he want to know his secret? He was already going too far. He had put quite a bit of thought into how he could help Buck with small things like this preview and he feared that someone could guess that his motives went beyond friendship.

It did not take long to gather up the rest of the trinkets and the cloth. Ezra was fairly sure that the threat of Christopher's displeasure would prevent any enterprising person from touching the table. The location was exactly what they needed and Ezra would hate to lose it. "Food?" he suggested. It was already well passed the afternoon.

"I could eat," Vincent said, grinning at Ezra.

One day Ezra was going to corner him and ask exactly what he thought he was doing. He wanted to do so while they were alone, however, and that rarely seemed to happen.

"Sounds good to me," Buck seconded.

Like just now. All seven of them were soon on their way to Aaron's tavern, where they claimed what had become their usual table. It was one of the few that was still open; the tavern was crowded with regulars and strangers both. Ezra found himself sitting beside Buck, closer than usual because of the crowd. Aaron walked over to greet them, smiling broadly. "Good evening."

"You look to be in a good mood," Buck commented.

"I am. The tourney has not even arrived and already it has brought me much business. I cannot imagine what it will be like when the tourney is actually here." He looked over his full dining room with satisfaction.

"I am pleased for you," Ezra said. "Congratulations." He was pleased to see that the tourney was bringing wealth for townspeople already.

"Thank you. What can I bring you tonight?"

"Whatever you have plenty of!" Buck laughed.

"I will be right back," Aaron promised. He walked back into his kitchen.

Conversation started slowly, rolling around the table as they relaxed and waited for their food. John began asking Josiah and Nathan about the other places they had journeyed through during their travels. Smiling, the two men were indulging him, with Christopher occasionally chiming in with his opinions and observances.

"Sometimes I wish I could see all those places," John said. "I like hearing stories, but I wonder what it would be like to see it with my own eyes."

Buck shook his head. "No, you do not."

John shot him a protesting look. "I do!"

"Traveling is not everything you might think." Buck leaned forward across the table, his voice earnest. "Unless you are rich, then traveling is often a cold dirty business. The people in the towns you go to will not be friends or neighbors, so you cannot trust them to help you if you are in need."

"That is often true," Nathan admitted. "But it is one of the best ways I know for a man to learn about the world."

"And one of the most dangerous."

"It can be, yes," Josiah said. "But John is a man who is capable of taking care of himself."

"It is lonely," Buck said.

"A man is often lonely," Christopher countered. "I remember you doing your share of traveling, Buck. Why be so against it now?"

"My views have changed." Buck leaned back. "I just want him to know everything about traveling before he starts to think about it."

"Him?" Vincent asked. "You mean John?"

Buck shot him a searching look. "Of course."

"Ah." Vincent nodded, but there was something strange about the smile that quirked the corners of his mouth.

Ezra suppressed a sigh. He really was going to have to corner Vincent at the first opportunity that arose and force him to explain his actions. So long as he was just confusing Ezra, there was no pressing need to understand exactly what he thought he was up to, but if he was going to take to needling Buck, then Ezra was going to step in. Buck was under enough stress with the tourney fast approaching; there was no need for Vincent to add to it.

He would also have to speak to Buck. Christopher was right; Buck had never spoken out against traveling before. Was he afraid to lose a gifted apprentice? Ezra doubted that John would leave Vierecken; he seemed happy here and he really wanted to impress Buck with how fast he could learn and how well he could work. There was no reason for Buck to be working so hard to dissuade him.

That could wait, though. For the moment, Ezra was going to sit and enjoy the knowledge that this had been a day well spent. He had given Buck a strong measure of hope for his chances at the tourney and he truly believed that he had laid the groundwork for strong interest in Buck's trinkets. Word of mouth could be a very powerful tool. Ezra was going to reward himself, just a little. He was going to sit next to Buck and listen to him talk. If he concentrated, he could almost feel the big man's words rumbling up out of him, could almost feel the heat of his body.

It could not hurt to indulge, just a little. He would be leaving Vierecken soon, doing some of that traveling Buck was so against. He might as well store up some memories to keep him warm while he was doing some of that cold and lonely travelling Buck disliked so much.

Standing behind the table Christopher and Vincent had constructed, Buck grinned widely, feeling like the absolute master of his domain. He had a perfectly located table, a large supply of trinkets to sell, and he could feel that today was going to be grand.

"It is a little early for a smile that large," a passing man said.

Buck's grin just grew. The sun had just barely risen, but he already knew it was going to be a fine day. After all, there were no clouds in the sky, the air smelled fresh and sweet, and it was the first day of the tourney. How could a day be any finer?

He glanced down at the small trinkets that were strewn artfully across the length of bright blue cloth. There really were not all that many there; Ezra had forbidden him to reveal the total extent of his inventory on the first day. Buck had disagreed, but the shorter man had stood firm, going so far as to choose which ones should be displayed. Mostly flowers, there were a few shields mixed in and an even lower number of swords.

Buck reached out and touched one of the flowers. He had argued with Ezra, but in the end he had given in. Ezra had refused to back down, insisting that his plan would bring Buck the most interest and the most wealth. He had been very earnest, green eyes bright with insistence and hope. After that, Buck had realized how much it meant to Ezra for him to believe him and trust in him. He had put on a show of resistance but had acceded to Ezra's wishes. Time would tell if that had been the best choice for business, but he knew that he had made the right choice for his friend. Ezra had grinned at him, unselfconscious and true when he had realized he had won.

Buck shook his head, forcing his attention back to the present. The first event would be starting in little more than an hour and people were beginning to move toward the lists, eager to find a place from which to watch. The early arrivals took their time, walking past the merchants who had also risen before the dawn, inspecting their tables as they passed. Buck did his best to look approachable, just like Ezra had told him. He smiled at the people who walked by, nodding in greeting as they passed.

Many of the people who caught sight of his wares came to his table, moving in for a closer look. Buck resisted the urge to talk to them, to try to make them stay through conversation. Ezra's cautions against doing so rang in his ears. The younger man had given him explicit instructions about how to act. Buck had suggested that Ezra rise early and join him at the table, in order to make sure that all went well, but his friend had laughed at him and promised to see him at a more reasonable hour.

Instead of talking, Buck smiled a lot and answered questions when people asked him about the trinkets, explaining that he was the one who had made them and no, he had never seen anything like them, either. Some of the people who stopped by to talk were his friends and neighbors, and all of them wished him luck. Strangers stopped by as well, and he sold his first trinket early, and sold a few more before the crowds began to arrive in earnest.

Many of the people in the crowd were from Vierecken, but there were a good number of strangers as well. All of them kept moving steadily toward the lists, ready for the jousting and contests of arms to begin. Buck had to resist the temptation to turn and watch the action. He did not want his trinkets or his money disappearing because of his inattention.

"Buck!" John waved at him over the heads of the people in the crowd in front of him.

"I left you in charge at the forge," Buck said as soon as the younger man came closer. He had left John behind at the smithy, but he had fully expected his apprentice to find a way to come to the tourney.

John grinned, recognizing his teasing for what it was. "I know. But there is no one there right now, no work waiting to be done. Ezra said that he had seen tourneys before, so he said I could come and see the first few matches and he would keep watch over the forge." John bounced a little on the balls of his feet, taking in the sights around him with quick, eager glances.

Buck could not summon the will to scold him. When he had been John's age, he would have found any excuse to stop working and view a tourney himself. "Ezra?" He had not thought the other man would be awake for hours yet.

"I was surprised to see him, but he said that he had a feeling that I would not want to miss this and he told me to go ahead and come."

"That was kind of him."

"It was. I just hope he is not lonely there on his own." John's eyes widened. "I think they are going to get started. Are you all right on your own?"

"I am fine. Get going." Buck waved him on his way.

Grinning widely, John waved at him and made his way deeper into the crowd.

Buck watched him go, pleased to see him so happy. He sensed a presence near the table and turned to find Josiah looking at him, with Christopher and Nathan a short distance away. "Looking to buy a souvenir, Josiah?"

Josiah looked over the table. "Not just yet. It looks as though you have been selling some."

"A few," Buck said modestly. "Are you here to visit me?"

Josiah shook his head. "You are a big boy, more than capable of taking care of himself. Christopher and I are here to ensure that Nathan enjoys the tourney unmolested."

"Good thinking." Buck nodded at Christopher and exchanged smiles with Nathan. "Vincent decided not to join you?"

"I saw him walking toward the smithy on our way over here," Christopher said.

The smithy. And Ezra. Jealousy flared through Buck. The smithy was his place. Vincent had no reason to be there. "Oh."

Christopher watched him closely, but did not say anything more.

Josiah looked over the crowd. "There are certainly quite a few people here. I am not really in the mood to battle a crowd."

Nathan looked over at the milling people with apprehension in his eyes. "If you do not want to be here..." He let his voice trail away.

"I want to see this," Christopher said, his voice low. "I like watching the great warriors battle each other." He met Buck's gaze with a sardonic smile.

Buck returned the smile. He understood how Chris was feeling. The knights who competed against each other in tourneys were hailed as skilled warriors and great fighters. Few of them ever faced real battle, with its heat and fury and bloody reality of fighting for their lives against men who were just as intent on ensuring their own survival. These knights were revered, while the mercenaries who fought for money and their lives were looked upon with suspicion and a little fear. It was strange to watch mock battles and see people care more about them and be more impressed by them then they were by real battles.

Josiah sighed. "I am not in the mood for watching men bloody each other. Buck, if you would like to join them in viewing the tourney, I would be happy to watch over your goods for you."

"Truly?"

"I would not have offered if I was not serious."

"I should really look in on the forge, just to be sure that there is no one there who needs work done."

Josiah smiled. "Of course. How much have you been charging?"

Buck quickly explained how he had been pricing the trinkets. "Christopher, Nathan, enjoy the tourney. I will doubtless see you later."

"Enjoy yourself, as well," Christopher said. "Nathan, come. Let us see these fearsome fighters."

Nathan grinned as he followed the thin man into the crowd.

Buck waved at Josiah and started walking toward the smithy. He should check on it, after all. John was not there and if anyone arrived looking for a blacksmith, Ezra was not going to be able to help them. Although if he talked fast enough, the green-eyed man could no doubt convince any visitor that he could. Walking quickly, it did not take Buck long to reach the forge. He walked inside.

Ezra looked up from the stool on which he was sitting. "Buck! I did not expect to see you so soon. Did you sell your entire inventory?"

"No, not yet. I have sold some, though." He looked around the smithy. "Where is Vincent?"

"I do not know. He stopped by earlier, but left soon after. I thought he had gone to the tourney."

Buck relaxed. Vincent had not lingered. Good.

Ezra rose from his stool. "What brings you back?"

The simple question made Buck feel a surge of confusion and shame. Why had he hurried back? Vincent was a friend, a good friend. There was no reason for him to be so territorial about him being in the forge. "I thought that someone might come in looking for a smith. I could not tell John to stay here, so I returned when Josiah offered to watch over my table."

"Josiah is a good man."

"Yes." He looked Ezra over carefully, surprised to see him awake so early. He seemed to be in a good mood, but there were smudges under his eyes and he did not look rested. "You are awake and about early."

"Excitement over the tourney, no doubt. Perhaps John's enthusiasm somehow infected me." He smiled brightly.

"Perhaps." Buck knew Ezra was not telling him the truth. He had shown no excitement about the tourney in the two months leading up to this day. What was more, Buck could see a leaf half-hidden in his hair. That told him that Ezra had been out in the forest this morning. If he had gone out there so early, then something was most definitely preying on his mind. Buck knew that no amount of cajoling could make him talk if he did not wish to, so he settled for telling himself that he would keep an eye on Ezra. He owed the other man for his friendship and guidance and he would do what he could to help him with whatever problem he was facing.

Ezra stretched lingeringly, groaning a little bit as he did so. "Since you are here now, I am going to venture forth in search of a morning meal."

"Will you come back?"

"If you wish me to." Ezra blinked and then looked down. "I will need to select your next batch of trinkets, after all." He walked toward Buck, heading for the door.

As Ezra walked past him, Buck reached out and plucked the leaf from his hair. "Here," he said, holding it out to him.

"Thank you." Ezra flushed, took the leaf and quickly left.

Buck watched him go, smiling a little. When Ezra blushed, it did amazing things to his eyes, making them even more vivid than usual. Even when he was flustered, he was still a damn handsome man.

Wait. Buck realized where his thoughts were leading him and he knew that he had to stop them before they went any further. He could not do this to Ezra. When he had been a mercenary, young and certain of his immortality, he had done some very dangerous things. On occasion he had lain with men, finding joy in the hard muscles and flat planes of the male body. If the wrong people had discovered him, he could have been in quite a lot of trouble. He had given that up when he had given up fighting and there was no reason for it to be resurfacing now.

That old attraction would explain some of what he had been feeling. If he was attracted to Ezra, that could be the reason he was feeling so territorial toward Vincent. Vincent had been spending more time with Ezra than was usual for him and that was most likely what had been making him so irritable and angry. Buck knew he had to get himself under control. He had no right to resurrect these old desires and involve Ezra, or anyone else, in it. The other man had been too good a friend for that, as had Vincent.

Buck needed to get himself under control and learn to leave the past in the past. No matter how handsome Ezra might be, how intelligent or amusing...Buck shook his head. He had to stop thinking like that. He needed to get his head on straight and stop acting like a fool. All his friends deserved better than that especially Ezra. He just had to find a way to forget how good it felt to make Ezra smile, the feeling of Ezra's hair soft on his fingertips...

With a sigh, Buck sat down on the stool Ezra had just vacated. This was not going to be easy.

Ducking his head outside his door, Ezra evaluated the sky above him. The sun had not quite set and shadows had grown long between the buildings of Vierecken. He could still hear noise from the direction of the tourney; no doubt there would be people there long after dark.

He sighed. He would rather wait until all the strangers had sought their beds before venturing forth, but he knew he had to be realistic. The tourney would last for a week and he could not spend the entire time hiding in his room. He had tried to do so today and he knew that he could not do it for a week. Instead of looking for food when he left the smithy, he had instead returned to his room. He was now starving and almost out of his head with boredom. He would go mad if he tried to do this for another day.

His stomach rumbled and Ezra gave up on brooding. That could wait until after he had eaten. He left his room and walked down the stairs, keeping to the shadows as he walked through the streets. He walked past the forge, but it was dark and silent, so there was no one there. Ezra knew there was a good chance that the others would still be at the tourney, but he had hoped for some friendly company while he ate. Without much hope, he entered Aaron's tavern.

For a moment he was frozen, utterly taken aback by the crowd he found inside. The tables were filled to overflowing by men and women both, laughing, talking, their conversation taking up all the space not taken up by their bodies. He'd never seen that many people in Aaron's in all the years he'd been in Vierecken.

Aaron's oldest son walked over to him. "Hello, Ezra."

"Mark." Ezra's gaze swept the room.

"It is hard to believe, is it not?" Mark looked over the room himself. "At first I thought there were more people in here then live in town, but I counted and I know that is not right."

"Are there no open seats?"

"No, I am sorry. I could get you a plate from the kitchen that you could take with you."

That would not do anything to solve the problem of his loneliness, but at least he would no longer be hungry. "I would be very grateful."

"I will fetch it right away," Mark promised, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Not wanting to draw too much attention to himself, Ezra moved outside. If he continued to linger in the doorway someone would no doubt notice him and that was exactly what he wished to avoid. He inhaled deeply; the evening breeze was coming from the direction of the forest and he could smell the fresh scent of leaves and life.

"Ezra?" John peered at him through the darkness as he moved closer. "What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting to get something to eat."

"Me, too!" John looked toward the lit up doorway. "I cannot believe how many people are in there. We had to ask Aaron to let us take something away with us." He turned his attention back to Ezra. "You should join us."

"I will, thank you for the invitation."

Mark poked his head out the door. "I thought I heard you, John. Ezra, are you going with him?"

"I am."

Mark nodded and ducked back into the tavern. A few moments later, he appeared with his arms laden with a basket from which tempting aromas arose. "There is enough in here for all of you," he said, handing it over to John.

"Thank you," Ezra said. "Give your father my thanks."

"I will." Mark grinned. "When I have time!" He disappeared from the doorway once more.

John led Ezra through the streets of Vierecken until they reached the small house he shared with Buck. "I did not see you at the tourney today."

"I did not spend much time there. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"It was very interesting. I did not understand everything I saw, though." He cast a sidelong glance at Ezra. "I was hoping that you might be willing to go with me and explain some of it?"

Ezra drew in a deep breath. He did not want to spend time at the tourney itself; that would be the most dangerous place for him to be if he did not want to chance being recognized. At the same time, he knew he could not hide in his room until the tourney and its participants left. He also did not want to arouse suspicion from his friends by hiding and he did not want to disappoint John. Perhaps spending one day with his young friend at the tourney would not pose too great a risk. "How about tomorrow?"

"That sounds great. Thank you, Ezra."

They reached the house. There was light showing through the windows and Ezra could hear voices and laughter coming from inside.

John opened up the door. "Food has arrived! And I found Ezra."

"Get them both in here," Vincent called cheerfully.

Ezra followed John into the house, glancing around the rooms quickly. He had not often been inside this place. It was not that he was unwelcome; indeed, he often turned down invitations to come here. It somehow felt far too intimate to be here, where Buck slept and dreamed and occasionally brought his woman. Ezra knew it would be far too easy to build all sorts of fantasies about being the one Buck took home. He tried to avoid the temptation; it felt a little too much like using his friend and he did not want that. Sometimes he could not help himself, but he did try to resist.

Inside the main room, Vincent, Buck and Christopher sat on the rough furniture. They each greeted both him and John before falling on the basket, eager to find out what was hidden inside.

Having grabbed his share of food, Vincent sat back on the chair he had chosen. "I did not see much of you today," he said, glancing up at Ezra.

"I was not out and about very much." Ezra moved forward, taking dinner from the basket and claiming a chair for himself.

"You do not like tourneys?"

"I have seen them before." Ezra did not want to explain. He knew he could trust these men, but telling them his troubles could drag them in to them and he had no wish to do so. By keeping his silence he could protect them and understanding that made it easier for him to hold his tongue.

"He is going to go with me," John said.

Buck looked up from his food. "How did you talk him into that?"

"I asked."

Buck transferred his glance to Ezra. "So if I asked, you would man the table for me?"

"Ah, John asked me to walk about the tourney and talk to him. You are asking me to work. That is a very different thing."

"I could pay you."

"So I may be labeled a menial laborer? I think not."

Buck laughed and Ezra let the warm sound rush over him. He grinned at Buck and was surprised when he received an open grin in return. There was heat in that grin and Buck was meeting his eyes with more than his usual boldness.

Ezra snapped his own gaze down to his food. Buck had to be reacting to something he was doing - in some way Ezra must be giving away his interest to the man. He had probably been flirting without realizing he was doing so and Buck had reacted without thought. So long as he kept control of himself, Buck would probably not notice what had just happened.

He was slipping, slipping badly. This was just one more sign that he needed to get out of town, leave Vierecken and Buck in peace before he did something they all would regret. He did not want to leave, but it would be far better to go and have the memory of Buck's friendship to keep him company on his travels than to be forced to leave Vierecken when Buck realized the attraction he was hiding. He did not think the Buck would react with violence, but he would be uncomfortable and their friendship would likely be destroyed. Ezra did not want that.

As soon as the tourney was over, he was going to leave. If he had not promised John that he would remain in town through the next week, he would begin making preparations to slip away now.

Keeping his head down as he ate, Ezra listened to the conversations that swirled around him, hearing John and the others discuss what they had seen at the tourney. It sounded much like ever other tourney he had ever attended: contests of arms and rowdy crowds and sharp-eyed merchants all mixed together in a noisy colorful spectacle. John sounded as though he had enjoyed himself immensely; he was still talking about the fighters he'd seen and the rich men and ladies who had watched them do battle. Christopher and Vincent had not been nearly so impressed, but they seemed to have enjoyed themselves just the same.

"Ezra?"

Ezra forced himself to look up and meet Buck's gaze. "Yes?

"I am going to need more trinkets to sell tomorrow. My table was starting to look a little bare by the end of the day."

One thing more for which he deserved recrimination. He had taken over Buck's inventory, insisting that he had a plan that would help Buck sell more of the trinkets. Instead of monitoring the sales and sticking to his plan, he had hidden away in his room like a coward, abandoning his friend when he had put his trust in him. "Buck, I am so sorry."

Buck's look became puzzled. "Sorry for what? I did not run out of trinkets. I just need more to sell tomorrow."

"And you shall have them. As soon as I finish eating I will fetch the portion you should attempt to sell tomorrow."

"There is no rush. Tomorrow is still a long way off."

"Still, I owe you an apology. I allowed my concentration to waver. I promise you that it shall not happen again."

"Ezra, you have nothing to apologize for. The trinkets were your idea in the first place. I sold more of them today than I believed I would." Buck looked at him steadily. "Are you feeling right?"

"I am fine," Ezra assured him. "Perhaps a little tired from rising so early."

"That was early?" Vincent asked.

"For me, it was." Ezra placed the remains of his meal in the basket.

"Are you leaving us?" Vincent asked.

"He cannot," Christopher pointed out. "He still has to choose what Buck is going to sell tomorrow."

"Very true," Ezra said. "Where are the rest of the trinkets?"

John got up from his seat. "I will get them." He disappeared into another room, then returned with the two familiar canvas bags. He placed them on the floor in front of Ezra. "Here they are."

"Thank you." Ezra opened them both and began to pick through the trinkets that remained, pulling out more shields and sword sets than he had chosen for the first day. The selection was still dominated by flowers, but there was definitely a more martial theme to the trinkets.

"I assume there is a method to how you are choosing these," Christopher said.

"Yes." Ezra concealed a smile as he continued pulling out trinkets, deliberately not answering the implied question.

Christopher inhaled deeply, ill concealing his irritation.

Not wanting to push the mercenary too far, Ezra gave him an explanation. "Today, these trinkets were a curiosity, and the flowers are good quality and interesting. Tomorrow, they will still be a curiosity but people will be more drawn into the events in the tourney. Flowers will still be purchased; women will want them and men will want to please them. But people will also have decided on participants in the tourney that they favor and they will want to buy tokens that will remind them of their preferred champion."

"So you want me to have more swords and shields on display." Buck leaned forward in his chair. "Very clever, Ezra."

Glowing a little inside from the praise, Ezra smiled at him. "Thank you. I just hope it will work."

"It will," Buck said. "You are an intelligent man, Ezra, and you understand people. These will sell just as well tomorrow, perhaps even better."

"And if they do not?" Christopher asked.

"Then I shall blame you for you for producing a shoddy table that frightened away my customers with its instability."

Christopher narrowed his eyes at him. "You walk a dangerous path."

"It gives my life some spice."

Letting the friendly banter flow around him, Ezra finished selecting the items he thought would sell best coming tomorrow. He laid them out on the floor, tucking them back out of the way a bit to ensure that no one accidentally destroyed them by stepping on them. That finished, he could feel the effects of a large meal and a long day combining, making him sleepy.

After closing the canvas bags once more, Ezra rose to his feet. "I fear I am not going to be awake much longer. I shall take my leave of you."

"Are you certain?" Buck asked.

"I have no wish to sleep on your floor." In his bed, yes, cradling Buck's large body close, but not on his floor. He kept his gaze on his hands, not wanting his eyes to give away his thoughts.

"Ezra?" John's voice broke through his embarrassment. "Will you walk through the tourney with me tomorrow?"

Best to get it over with. "Yes."

"When should I meet you?"

"I will find you," Ezra said. "And I can assure you that I will seek you out at a reasonable hour."

John grinned at him. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." It was not, but a white lie could not hurt, not when John looked so pleased to hear it. "Good night."

"Sleep well," Vincent said warmly.

"Dream well," Buck added, glancing suspiciously at Vincent.

Ezra raised his hand in farewell, then left the house. It did not take him long to reach the safety of his own room. Once inside, he quickly stripped out of his clothing and lay down in his bed. Despite the way he had teased John, he had no intention of lying in bed too late. The people he wanted to avoid would most likely go to the tourney later in the afternoon, so it would be better for him to walk through it earlier.

He closed his eyes, but sleep eluded him. His thoughts returned again and again to the heated smile Buck had gifted him with not too long before. The way his lovely dark eyes had fixed on him, the way his lips had parted as they quirked upwards at the corners...he could not stop thinking about it.

His thoughts soon left the way of memory and began to wander down the path of fantasy. What might have happened if he and Buck had been alone in the house and Buck had returned his love? He would not have looked away then; instead, he would have slid off his chair to his knees, leaning forward to place his hands on Buck's thighs. He would rise up on his knees and press his mouth to Buck's. The delightful scratch of Buck's mustache on his still sensitive skin would be a sharp counterpoint to Buck's soft, talented mouth.

His breath coming faster, Ezra slid his hand down his bare chest, skating it down over his stomach and curling his fingers around his growing erection.

He wanted to spend hours kissing Buck, learning every trick that would bring him pleasure and discover for himself the talent that made him so very popular with women. After feasting on Buck's mouth, he would rise to his feet and catch Buck's hands in his own, pulling him into Buck's bedroom. There, he could strip away Buck's clothing, finally seeing him utterly natural, clothed only in his lovely skin. Ezra had seen him without his shirt before, his muscled body marked by scars that only accentuated his strength and power, the experiences in his life that had shaped him into the man he was today.

Catching his lower lip between his teeth, Ezra slid his hand up and down the length of his cock, his breath stuttering in and out as his skin slicked with sweat.

He would strip his own clothing away and leave it on the floor; how could it matter when he had Buck naked and willing before him? Buck would lie down on the bed and then Ezra would be able to straddle his waist, giving himself access to Buck's chest. He would bend and taste him, licking and kissing his way down the hard planes of his torso. He bet himself that Buck had sensitive nipples and he would do his best to discover if that theory was true. Once he had Buck hard and needy beneath him, he would continue his journey downward, backing up until he could see the proud rise of Buck's erection. He had no doubt his cock would be as handsome as the rest of him.

His breath coming faster, Ezra increased the pace of his strokes.

He would lean down and take the head of Buck's cock in his mouth, learning his taste and the feel of him on his tongue. Just a taste only, a tease for him and Buck both. Then he would move back upwards, blanketing Buck's body with his own. He knew Buck would be a generous lover; how could he be anything else? This way, Buck would be able to touch him as well as they thrust against each other and exchanged long, wet kisses. The heat between them would build until they were both lost in it.

Gasping, Ezra came, coating his hand with the evidence of his own pleasure. He lay still for a few moments, panting lightly. After a few moments he rose from his bed and cleaned himself up, then returned to his bed, which seemed far too large and empty with just him in it. Curling in on himself, Ezra wrapped his arms around himself and let lethargy seep through him.

Sleep was still a long time coming.

Buck was not a superstitious man. He did not believe in witches and gave no credence to fairy tales or those who trusted in magic. If he did not know better, though, he would swear there was something not quite natural about Ezra. How did the man know that the pieces he had chosen would sell so well today?

Oh, Buck had heard and understood his explanation, he just was not certain he believed it. Could common sense be so true as to seem prophetic? He had steadily sold the trinkets that Ezra had selected. It was almost as though the other man had been able to foresee exactly what people would be looking for on this day. Glancing over his table, Buck affirmed that his inventory was noticeably smaller than what he had started out with that morning.

He was going to have to find a way to thank Ezra. The other man's guidance had been invaluable and Buck doubted he would have done as well without it.

The first step to thank him lay in finding a way to convince him to stay in town. The second was to control his wayward body and thoughts. How was he going to convince Ezra to stay in Vierecken if he was making him uncomfortable with unwanted attractions and advances?

As if thinking about him had summoned him, Ezra appeared before his table, John at his side.

"Ezra!" Buck could not keep the smile from his face.

"Good afternoon," Ezra greeted him. He looked at the display of trinkets spread over the table. "It appears you have been having a most successful day."

"I have. Do you think I should put some more out?"

Ezra glanced up at the sky, gauging the time. "No. The table does not quite look bare. The smaller quantity will encourage people to buy what they like today for fear of not having an opportunity to do so tomorrow."

"So far, you have been right every time."

Ezra transferred his attention to him. "Did you have any doubts?"

No. Of course he had not. Ezra's motives and actions might not always be entirely virtuous, but he always had the best interests of the people he cared about at the forefront of his consideration. He could not resist the urge to tease Ezra, though. "Well..."

The green-eyed man drew himself up in the perfect picture of offended dignity. "If that is how you regard my advice -" He began to turn away.

"No, wait."

Ezra paused, still half-facing away.

"Ezra, I had complete faith in you and in your ideas." He had intended to continue with the teasing, but it seemed important to make sure that Ezra understood how valued he really was. Perhaps that would make it easier to convince him to stay.

Ezra blinked. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"It is the truth."

A flush rose on Ezra's cheeks. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice soft.

The moment had become too serious and Buck feared that he might have gone too far. He looked over at John. "How goes the tourney?"

John looked irritated for a moment, but that soon faded as he grew enthusiastic about his answer. "It is really interesting, Buck. You need to walk through it some more."

"What did you see?"

"Everything! There was a joust and then an archery contest. Some of those guys are really good."

"I heard some crashing. That was the joust?"

Ezra laughed. "There may be a man seeking out your expertise later. His armor was dented quite badly."

Buck grinned. "I will only be all too happy to offer my services."

"I thought you might be."

"Ezra knows all the rules for the contests," John continued. "Even the ones for the people who are watching."

"I have seen my share of tourneys," Ezra explained easily. "The rules are very simple."

The crowd near the lists got louder, people calling out their enthusiasm.

"Sounds like another match is going to begin," Buck said. The wistful note in his own voice surprised him. He had not seen a joust the day before and wondered if he would see one at all; he had trinkets to sell, after all. That demanded his attention far more than any tourney match.

Ezra drew in a long breath. "If you would like to see this match, I will mind your wares while you watch."

"You do not have to."

"I know that. I am still offering." Ezra smiled, but his eyes were serious, dark.

"You are certain?"

"I am. But just for one match, mind you. Any longer and I will begin keeping your profits for myself."

"Thank you," Buck said sincerely. "John?"

"I know a great place to watch. Ezra, we will be back before you know it."

"If you do not leave now, you will miss the whole thing." Ezra waved them away with a careless gesture.

John grabbed Buck's arm and pulled. "This way."

Laughing, Buck allowed his friend to lead him away. He glanced back over his shoulder once. Ezra was standing by the table, looking somehow very alone. For a moment Buck was tempted to turn back, but he did not want to waste the gift Ezra had offered him. Instead, he resolved to return as soon as possible so he would not abuse his friend's generosity.

John did indeed know a good place to watch the joust. He led Buck to an uncrowded corner that provided a good view. "I told you."

"That you did." Buck crossed his arms over his chest and watched the two men on horseback. At the speeds they moved and with their horses' power, there was a very real possibility that one or both of them could be injured, perhaps seriously so.

At the signal, the two opponents urged their horses into trots and leveled their lances at each other. They came together with a tremendous crash and one of them was thrown back off his horse, slamming into the ground with painful force. The man who stayed on his horse reined in his mount, then turned to check on his opponent. The man on the ground groaned and moved his arms and legs feebly.

John moved to stand up on the tips of his toes. "Is he going to be all right?"

"He is moving, so probably." Buck shook his head, watching the crowd cheer with delight. He was beginning to remember that he did not really enjoy tourneys. Perhaps it was different for someone who had never been in battle, but the whole thing seemed rather foolish to him.

John settled back down to his usual stance. "We should go back to the table."

Buck nodded his agreement and together they turned to walk back to the merchants' section. As they walked, he heard the tone of the crowd's murmuring change slightly, becoming louder and yet less boisterous. Reaching out, he laid a restraining hand on John's shoulder. "Not so fast."

"Why?"

"I am not sure, yet." He stopped walking and craned his neck, grateful for his height as he looked over the heads of the people around them, searching for whatever it was that had caught the attention of the crowd. At the edge of the mass of people, then cutting through it, he spotted the group of people who were the focus of all the interest of the rest. "Someone has arrived."

"Who?"

"They are coming this way. We shall soon see." Buck kept his eyes on the group. They were riding through the crowd, not walking. The six men riding before and behind looked like guards, protecting the man who was between the two groups of three. They came slowly closer, working their way through the gathered number of people.

John moved closer to him. "He looks important. A really rich merchant?"

"No, see the number of guards? He has to be a member of the nobility."

"You and Ezra said they would not come here."

"Sometimes we can be wrong." As the man came closer, Buck realized that he recognized him. "It is the duke."

"Really?" John was back up on the tips of his toes.

Buck nodded. It had been years since he had seen the duke, more than a year before he had come to Vierecken to make his home. The man had not changed much: his hair was still silvered, his features severe and proud. He looked like a hard man and the sword at his side and the guards surrounding him just reinforced that impression.

"What do you think he is doing here?"

"I do not know." They watched as the duke and his guards rode past, silent and haughty on their huge horses. After they had passed, Buck drew in a deep breath. "We should get back to Ezra."

"I think he will want to know about this," John said.

Buck nodded, his thoughts still pursuing the question of the reason for the duke's presence. Ezra might know. He hurried his steps, wanting to talk to the other man and hear his thoughts. It did not take them long to reach the table.

Ezra looked up as they approached. There were hints of anxiety around his eyes. "Did you enjoy yourselves?" He ran a cloth lightly over the trinkets that remain, wiping away any dust that clung to them even though Buck could see none. It was as close to a nervous gesture as he had ever seen Ezra make.

"We saw a man be thrown from his horse so hard his armor was dented," John said. "And then we saw the duke!"

Ezra's hands stopped moving. "Perien? He is here?"

"I recognized him from years ago," Buck confirmed. "He just rode in."

Ezra opened his mouth but nothing came out. He looked down.

"Ezra?" Buck was immediately concerned. What was wrong? "Are you all right?"

The green-eyed man looked up. "Merely tired. I fear I did not sleep well last night. Will you gentlemen excuse me?"

John took a step toward him. "Are you sure you are have to go? We wanted to know if you knew why the duke came here."

"To see the tourney," Ezra said. "Why else?"

"What makes this tourney so special? I bet he could see them anywhere, anytime."

"The motives of the nobility are strange to us lesser men, John. It is best not to wonder too deeply about them." Ezra yawned. "Now, if you will excuse me?"

John opened his mouth to ask another question, but Buck nudged him hard in the shoulder. "Go rest. Will we see you for evening meal?"

"If I wake up in time for it." With a sketchy bow, Ezra walked away.

Shaking his head, John watched him go. "That was odd."

"Yes." Buck watched as Ezra walked away quickly, his head down and his shoulder hunched. "Yes, it was."

"Do you think he looked...frightened?"

Buck shot a glance at his younger friend. That was what he was thinking. Ezra would not thank him for confirming John's suspicions, though. Privacy was too important to him, including where his emotions were concerned. "I think he looked tired."

John did not look convinced, but he let the subject drop. "Do you think we will see much of the duke?"

"I do not know. He will probably show himself during the tourney, but do not try approaching him. Those guards are not just for show."

"And when he is not watching the tourney?"

"Then he will keep to himself, most likely." Buck could not really generate much interest in answering John's questions; he was more concerned with Ezra's reaction to finding out that the duke was in town. All the life had gone out of him when he had heard the news. He had not even told Buck if he had sold any trinkets...or given him any money.

Buck held to that fact. He thought it was likely that Ezra would try to avoid them tonight; going to him to retrieve any money he had received selling trinkets would serve him as an excuse to seek him out.

He moved back to stand behind the table, but all the fun had gone out of day. His thoughts were not on the crowd or the strangers or even the money he could make.

Why was Ezra so frightened of Perien's presence in town?

Ezra managed to make it to his room before giving into the shakes that threatened to consume him. Perien in Vierecken? He did not want to believe it was true but Buck and John had no reason to lie and the duke's presence would explain the disturbance that had moved through the crowd. Perien was undoubtedly here. Wrapping his arms around himself, hugging his chest, Ezra tried to reason his way through this new development.

Why would the duke come here? This tourney was a relatively minor affair. Sure it seemed like quite a grand occurrence to the townspeople, but that was because they had never seen one before. This was a small tourney; none of the major participants had bothered to come here. There were no famous names on the playing field or in the viewing stands. Only wealthy people who lived very close by in Perien and Lanceton had come; no one had traveled any real distance to view it. There was nothing here to attract Perien to Vierecken.

A chill began to settle deep into his soul. What if Perien was here for him? He had thought he was keeping out of sight quite well here on the very outskirts of the duke's lands, attracting no attention with his small games and simple life. He might have been wrong; perhaps he had been noticed without realizing it. But why on earth would Perien care about his whereabouts, much less travel the distance to see him? Ezra had not seen the man in almost fifteen years; why take an interest in him now?

He had far too many questions and no answers with which to settle them. He would make himself insane before he came up with an answer. He sat down on his bed, eyes locked on the door. He did not expect a knock, but he feared one might come. Before when he had thought that he could not spend the entire space of the tourney in his room, he had been a fool. He could stay safe within these four walls forever if it meant he would be out from under the eyes of the duke. He could undoubtedly convince Gloria to buy food for him and deliver it. He could stay hidden here for the next five or six days.

The truly intelligent thing to do, of course, would be to leave town. All he had to do was pack his books and money into his bags, wait for darkness to fall, saddle his horse and go. He knew the path through the forest in dark of night and light of day. He would be miles away before anyone in town realized he was gone and they would have no chance of finding him. He would be nothing but a memory, soon forgotten by everyone, hopefully including Perien.

Ezra leaned down and laid a hand on the lid of the chest at the foot of his bed. He could be packed in less than an hour's time. There was just one problem with his plan.

He did not want to leave.

Leaving would mean abandoning the friendships he had found here in town. Leaving would mean having to start all over again in another town that could not be so friendly or welcoming, that would not have the shade of the forest nearby or well-meaning folk at its heart.

The next town would not have Buck in it.

Ezra jerked his hand off the lid of the chest. He had stayed in Vierecken for years out of friendship and love for the man and leaving would destroy all of that. Buck was a brave man; would he understand Ezra taking the coward's way out, fleeing town without a word to anyone? That was how he would have to do it. Saying goodbye would only involve those he spoke to in his troubles and that was the last thing that he wanted to do. He would leave town like the thief he was, creeping away in the night, not to return for years, if ever.

This was not fair! Of course, life was rarely fair, but he had not thought it would be this cruel. He had been slowly preparing to leave Vierecken, but in his own time, his own way. He had planned to make his goodbyes, leave his friendships behind but intact. Now he was going to have to tear them apart with his leaving. He would be denied a finally few days to build up precious memories to keep him company on the lonely days that awaited him.

Damn Perien. Damn him.

A knock at his door distracted him from his thoughts. Forcing his face into lines of calm curiosity, he crossed the room and opened the door, praying with ever step that Perien's men did not await him on the other side. "Buck?"

Buck nodded. "Evening, Ezra." He smiled, but his eyes were worried.

"What are you doing here?" He had been bracing himself for the sight of soldiers so hard that the relief he felt seeing Buck threatened to start him shaking again.

"I came to see if you wanted to join us for evening meal. John and the others are holding a table at Aaron's for us."

Evening meal? Ezra looked up at the sky, surprised to see that it really was that late. He had been lost in the morass of his fears and worries for hours; the day had slopped away without him realizing it.

"Ezra?" Buck's voice jerked him out of thoughts again. "Are you all right?" His eyes were dark with worry and concern.

For a moment Ezra almost gave in to the urge to tell him the truth, to unburden himself and ask Buck to help him figure out what to do. He quickly regained control of himself, though. If he was so selfish as to do that, he would be dragging Buck into problems that the other man did not need, did not deserve. Out of friendship and love, Ezra had to leave him out of it and keep him safe. "I am fine," he said. "I forgot to eat this afternoon."

"Then you are definitely coming with me."

Ezra's first instinct was too refuse; going back out into public was too risky. But this could well be his final opportunity to see all of them together, his last chance to see Buck and hear him laugh. That was worth the risk, worth almost any risk. "Thank you. I will join you."

He followed Buck down the stairs and to Aaron's tavern. The room was once again crowded with people. Ezra scanned the crowd, but no one there wore Perien's livery so he relaxed.

John grinned at them and waved from the table where he and the other four men sat. "We were beginning to think you two got lost," he teased as they approached.

"I managed to guide Buck back here," Ezra said easily. "You really should not be allowing him to go out without a keeper."

"Hey!" Buck tried to glare at him, but his heart was not in it.

Ignoring Buck's concern, Ezra sat down, very aware of Buck's presence in the chair next to him. He had not been seated for more than a few moments when Aaron appeared, sliding food onto the table in front of them. Ezra was not sure he would be able to make himself eat, but he smiled at Aaron and thanked him warmly.

"You are welcome," Aaron said, blinking a little in surprise. He did not have time to worry about it, though; there were already people calling for his attention.

Ezra listened to the conversation of the men around him, listening to their voices, memorizing the way they spoke, the words they used, the sound of their laughter. He was going to miss all of them, their companionship and friendship. He picked at his food and tried to contribute a little to the conversation, not wanting to worry them by acting oddly.

It did not work. He was not fooling Buck and the others were beginning to realize that something was off. He did not think they were too very concerned, though; he was merely having an off day and a man was allowed to have a few of those. Still, he did not want to linger too long at the table, worried that he would give himself away.

Drawing in a deep breath, he pushed his plate away. "I apologize. I find myself uncommonly tired tonight."

"Are you feeling unwell?" Nathan asked.

"No, merely tired," Ezra reassured him. "A decent night's sleep will no doubt put me to rights." He rose to his feet.

"Ezra?" Buck pushed away from the table.

"Buck, stay here. Enjoy dinner and these men's company. I am fine." He looked around the table, taking a final look at their faces, memorizing the looks of concerned friendship he found on them. He was going to miss them. His life would be the poorer for not having Nathan's stories about foreign lands, Josiah's willingness to debate him on every and any subject, Vincent's easy laugh, and Chris's sly humor. He would have to learn how to generate his own enthusiasm instead of relying on John's. Buck...he would miss everything about Buck, from his laughter to his silences, from his talent to the scent of him, from his body to his soul.

"Good night," he said, and was proud and amazed that his voice remained steady.

"I - we will see you tomorrow?" Buck asked.

Not wanting to lie to him, Ezra tried a joke instead. "Not if you expect me to work." Pasting a smile on his face, he raised a hand in farewell. "Good bye."

"Good night," Buck said, his voice a little too firm.

Ezra nodded, then turned and walked away. He hastened his steps once he was outside, wanting to reach his room as quickly as possible. He could see the stairs and was beginning to hope and despair that he would make it.

A hand slammed down on his shoulder, gripping hard and spinning him around. Ezra raised his hands to defend himself, dropping back into an instinctive crouch as he tried to get his bearings.

A man in Perien's livery stared at him. "The duke summons you."

Ezra was tempted to run. If he could make it to his room and lock the door, he doubted Perien would want to attract the attention that breaking through the door would cause.

Two more soldiers came into his view and he gave up on that plan. "It is rather late. Would tomorrow morning perhaps be better for the duke?"

"Now."

Not wanting to be dragged through the streets, Ezra nodded. He followed the first soldier and managed not to flinch when the other two fell into step beside him. He was not a prisoner because he was not in chains but that was the only distinction he could see. If he tried to run he did not doubt that he would be knocked to the ground and carried if these men believed that was necessary.

The soldiers led him through the streets, back to the house that Walter and his wife rented out to the wealthy who passed through Vierecken and wanted more than just a simple room for the night. Ezra believed that a merchant had already rented out the place; Perien must have displaced him with either a bribe or force. He wondered idly which one it was, but then he was being hustled through the door and he had no time to worry about anyone but himself.

The duke sat in a chair near a low fire in the fireplace, staring down at the flames. Ezra could only see him in profile but he could see that the man had not changed much in the years that had passed since their last encounter. He had grown older, but he was still hard, still severe. There was no softness in his body or his face.

"We brought him, my lord," said the soldier who had stopped Ezra.

The duke nodded. "Leave us."

The soldier nodded sharply and led the others out of the room, leaving Ezra and the duke alone together. The duke stared into the flames for a moment. "It took me a long time to find you. This was the last place I expected you to be."

Ezra did not know how to respond to that so he held his tongue. Perhaps he would be lucky and Perien would settle for giving him a tongue lashing, maybe have the guards thrash him a bit and then let him go. He doubted that was how this would play out, though. The duke said he had been looking for Ezra. Why? Ezra was not sure that he wanted to know.

The duke looked up suddenly, transferring his attention to Ezra. His gaze was just as hard as the rest of him. "You have learned how to hold your tongue." A sneer twisted his lips. "Your mother could not have taught you that. I wonder who did."

Ezra bit back the angry response that welled up within him. He was well aware of how Perien felt about his mother; he had witnessed the fights he had with Maude for years. He doubted telling him that Maude was dead would do any good; the anger that lay between them was too intense, too strong.

"I remember you as being more full of questions, boy."

"I grew up."

"And learned no manners or proprieties, I see." Perien looked him up and down. "You look like a peasant."

"I am a peasant," Ezra reminded him, refusing to use the usual honorifics. It was small and petty and it was just about the only rebellion in which he dared indulge himself so he was not going to give it up.

The duke scowled and rose to his feet. "You are my son!" he barked.

Ezra flinched away from the words and the tone both. "And this suddenly concerns you now? Why?"

Perien's nostrils flared and he took a step forward, but Ezra refused to move. He had spoken the truth. The man had shown little or no interest in him when he was a child, despite Maude's best attempts to convince him that Ezra would be an ideal heir if Perien would just adopt him. The duke had refused to consider the notion, telling Maude that Ezra was her problem, not his.

Looking at the angry man who had fathered him, Ezra remembered old pain that he had mostly forgotten. It had not been easy, the first time he realized that Maude likely had only given birth to him because she had hoped to use him to somehow gain a hold on Perien, to try to get money and a comfortable place from him. Perien would have none of it; he had refused to take any responsibility for Ezra's existence, only rarely giving Maude money just to make her leave him in peace for a time. Once he had convinced her to go by having his guards beat Ezra bloody and leave him outside the inn where Maude was staying.

To know that neither of his parents really wanted him had left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he had learned to live with that fact. Maude had taken care of him and had loved him after her own fashion and he had loved her in return. It had been enough for him then and it was enough for him now. He had lived with the fear that Perien would remember his existence for years. He did not relish the idea of receiving another beating or worse, being banished from the duke's realm. That would mean that he could never return to see Buck and the others without risking his life and theirs for being suspected of harboring him.

Perien drew in several deep breaths, calming himself. "Your appearance concerns me because like it or not you are my son. You should keep up appearances to avoid embarrassing me further."

"Only you and I and your men know of our relationship. I cannot embarrass you."

"You will if you do not get yourself cleaned up and act as befits my son."

Ezra held himself very still. "What do you mean?"

"You have some intelligence. Good." The duke moved away from him, placing his hands behind his back in a judicial pose. "I have need of you."

"For what? Whipping boy?"

Perien turned. "Hold your tongue and show some respect." He moved closer to Ezra, using his greater height to loom over him. "I have need of you as one of my sons. You have made absolutely nothing of yourself, but I am going to give you an opportunity to change that. I have arranged a marriage for you."

For a moment Ezra was certain that he had heard him wrong. "What?"

"The youngest daughter of the Earl of Lanceton. You will marry her as a sign of good will and will cement the alliance I have formed with him."

No. This could not be happening. "He wants his daughter to marry your unacknowledged bastard son?"

"You will be acknowledged. He has eight daughters and he will settle for you as a sign on good faith. The earl is not an especially important ally, but this marriage will help to secure trade between our demesnes. I will give you a stipend." Perien's lips twisted in a parody of a smile. "You will have what your mother always wanted."

"And what I never did!"

"You are just like her. You will take the money and do as you are told."

"I will not."

"Do not try to bargain with me. You will gain nothing. At the very most I will have you made the mayor of the town you will be moving to."

"The town...I have no plans to leave here."

"It is a part of the agreement I have made with the earl. You and Annamarie will live in Lanceton, near her father's keep."

Ezra could not believe this was happening. He knew that encountering the duke again would be bad, but he had never imagined it could be this disastrous. "I will not do this."

"You will. You will obey me." Perien moved closer to him. "The wedding will be announced at the end of this miserable little tourney, to give word time to travel through both Perien and Lanceton. You will have a few months to travel to your new home and get yourself set up there. It has all been planned, all been arranged."

"Except for the fact that I will not do it!" Ezra raised his chin defiantly. "I will not marry this girl." He searched for something that would make the other man see reason. "I love another!"

"You cannot." The venom in his voice was thick, burning. "You are your mother's son and she never loved anyone but herself in her entire life."

Keeping his face blank, Ezra swallowed the hurt that rose up inside of him at the casual dismissal of his feelings, of his life. "I can and I will not obey you. I am not marrying that girl."

"If you continue to defy me I will have you taken there in chains. Unfettered or in shackles, you will marry her and seal this arrangement."

"I-"

"Silence!" Perien roared, close and in his face. "I grow tired of your mouth. You will return to your room and make preparations to leave this collection of hovels at the end of the week." He lowered his voice. "Do you think that I do not know what you have done?"

Ezra drew back, for one moment irrationally convinced that Perien knew that he loved Buck and was going to use that knowledge against him.

"I have spoken to Lord Richmond," Perien said. "He was calling upon the Earl while I was there and he told me a most distressing story about being swindled by a man claiming to be an alchemist. A man who stole his purse."

"That is distressing," Ezra said.

"Do not play coy with me. You were that alchemist. You are the thief. Defy me and I will have you imprisoned so you can pay for that and every other crime you have committed."

"You have not proof."

"I do not need it. Seamus!"

The lead guard entered the room. "Yes, my lord?"

"Escort him back to his room. We are finished here."

"We are not! I-" Ezra's words were cut off by a blow across his shoulders, hard enough to drive him to his knees. When he tried to rise to his feet, he was kicked in the stomach and knocked completely down to the floor.

"Your insolence ends now," Perien said in a soft voice. "Seamus, remove him from my sight."

Desperately trying to draw air back into his lungs, Ezra was in no shape to resist as the same trio of guards dragged him back through Vierecken to the stairs that led to his room. By the time they reached them, he had his breath back but he knew he was going to hurt tomorrow.

"Do not make things more difficult for you or for us," Seamus said. "Start your packing now."

Ezra did not try to reply; he knew that it would do him no good so he did not waste the effort. He concentrated on making his way up the stairs with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. When he was finally inside and away from the eyes of the men who had watched him go, he sagged against the door.

This could not be happening. Of all the ways the duke could make his life miserable, he had never imagined this method. Perien could not expect him to go through with this, could he? Perhaps it was all a part of an elaborate attempt to make him insane, some kind of horrible retribution for the irritation Maude had caused him.

He turned around and opened up the door, peering outside.

One of Perien's men looked back at him from the wall he leaned against.

Damnation. Ezra barely resisted the urge to slam the door. He could not try to run tonight; no doubt he would be watched for the rest of the night.

Sinking down onto his bed, Ezra tried to pull his thoughts into some sort of order. He needed to think, needed to make plans. He was not going to be able to slip away tonight and he would no doubt be watched tomorrow. His best opportunity to make an escape would come during the day; perhaps he would be able to lose himself in the crowd at the tourney. If he could make it to the forest on foot, he would be able to lose any pursuit sent after him. He would have to leave behind most of his possessions, his clothing and his books...but he would be free. He blinked away tears that threatened. Those books were more than mere possessions; they were old, treasured friends that he had carried with him for years. But if it were choice between them and freedom, he would take freedom. He would leave behind a note; hopefully, John, Josiah and the others would enjoy them as much as he had.

He had to make his escape tomorrow. If he delayed any longer, his friends would no doubt realize that something had gone terribly wrong and he knew they would not allow him to put them off for long. Telling the truth would only bring them trouble.

There was no help for it. Tomorrow he would have to steal away from Vierecken, leaving behind everything he had ever cared about. Raising one hand to grip the pouch that hung from his neck, Ezra stared blindly, seeing nothing but the destruction of his hopes.

Feeling proud of himself, Buck walked down Vierecken's main street, dodging past the unusual number of people on it that morning. The close press of the crowd did not irritate him; instead, it only fueled his good mood. All these people in his way represented people who had either bought one of his trinkets or soon would. He welcomed them - and their money - to his town.

There was only one thing clouding his good mood and he was on a mission to remedy it. The man who had suggested the trinkets, who had laid out the plan that had worked beyond all expectations...Buck had not seen him yet that day and he wanted to thank him. Once again, the selections that Ezra had suggested had sold briskly as soon as the tourney began that morning. Ezra had done a tremendous amount to make Buck's desire to earn money become a reality and Buck wanted to make sure he knew how much everything he'd done was appreciated.

The need to thank Ezra had pushed Buck to convince Josiah to take over manning the table so he could find Ezra. His pleasure in the amount of money he had made just was not complete without sharing it with Ezra.

Too bad Ezra was not cooperating. Buck had not yet seen him that day. He knew Ezra disliked rising early, but there was a tourney on and the day was fine. It was no time to be laying in bed to all hours. Besides, he was worried about the younger man. Ezra had not looked right the past evening: his attention had been turned inward and he looked as though he had had a scare. Buck had not pressed him in front of all the others knowing that Ezra would never appreciate being confronted in public. He would have grown more silent and refused to say anything at all. Buck hoped that if he had a chance to speak to him privately, Ezra would let him help with whatever was troubling him. He owed Ezra that much, owed him far more.

He caught sight of Christopher across a clump of people and flung up a hand in greeting. Christopher nodded in acknowledgement. They passed each other, but Buck knew that he would see him again. He liked having Christopher in town; he liked having all his friends in Vierecken. It reminded him a bit of being a member of a mercenary company, at least in the feeling of camaraderie that he remembered. He did not miss the fighting, but he was thankful for the chance to experience that feeling again. He resolved once again to find a way to try to persuade them to stay longer, not wanting to give it up.

Walking down the length of Vierecken's main street and checking inside of Aaron's, Buck had not found Ezra and no one he spoke to had seen him yet. Unable to believe that Ezra was still in bed, Buck changed direction and started walking toward Ezra's room. Some of his pleasure slipped away, replaced by worry. Could Ezra be ill? That thought was enough to make him hurry his steps, need driving him faster. He had to make sure that Ezra was all right.

Had to make sure? Buck took a brief detour, walking into the smithy. He still felt the pull to go on, to continue on his way to Ezra's, but before he could he had to get his head on straight.

This need to see Ezra - it was more than simple concern for a friend. If John was ill, Buck doubted that he would be tempted to run through the streets in order to make sure that he was all right. He did not know that Ezra was ill and yet he was ready to start running just to be certain he was not. He also had to admit to himself that this was more than attraction. Lust would not make him worry this way.

Hidden from the eyes of others, Buck thunked his head against the wall a few times in frustration. This was madness - falling in love with a friend? The only thing he could do that would be more foolish would be to let Ezra know how he felt. Drawing in a deep breath, Buck knew that he had to keep this secret hidden close to his heart. He had no idea how Ezra would react if he found out. The younger man was a good friend, perhaps good enough to deal with this and continue to be Buck's friend, but he did not want to take that chance. What if finding out drove Ezra away from Vierecken when Buck was trying to get him to stay? No. Better to hide this away and keep Ezra's friendship and allow the other man to have this town as a home and haven.

Settled in his mind if not his heart, Buck left the smithy, heading for Ezra's room once more. He forced himself to walk slowly, maintaining a semblance of disregard. If he was not going to arouse Ezra's suspicion then he had to avoid arousing anyone else's, since Ezra was so good at reading people's reactions and hidden thoughts.

He left Vierecken's main street and the crowds behind, angling through the smaller side streets to reach the building where Ezra lived. He was almost there when he caught the sound of Ezra's voice, carried to him on an errant breeze. He changed direction and cut around the building that was hiding the other man from his view. He did not walk out from around the corner, though, instead pausing to watch Ezra. If Ezra were sick he would likely refuse to admit it. By watching him for a few minutes Buck would learn more about his health than he would by talking to the stubborn man.

Ezra was talking to Vincent, speaking to him intently in a low voice. The breeze was the only thing that had allowed Buck to hear his voice. He moved a little closer, wanting to see and hear him so he could evaluate him.

Ezra's eyes looked overlarge and there were dark circles beneath him. Whatever he had done last night had not involved sleep. Buck thought that he looked pale as well. His hair and clothing might be perfectly groomed, but there was most definitely something wrong. Buck took a step forward but froze when he heard his name.

"Buck?" Vincent asked. "I have not seen him yet today. He is probably at the tourney."

"Where he belongs," Ezra agreed, but his laughter was a little off.

"Ezra, are you all right?"

"I did not sleep well. I will survive."

"Are you certain?"

"Vincent, save your worry for someone in need of it." Ezra's voice was sharp.

"Ezra?"

The green-eyed man shook his head. "My apologies. Lack of sleep has made me churlish."

"Perhaps you should get some more, then. Return to bed."

"Perhaps." Ezra took a few steps back, raising a hand in farewell. "I will see you later."

Vincent nodded, but his concerned expression did not change. "Yes," he agreed, making it sound more like a promise than casual agreement.

Ezra acted as though he had not heard, turning and walking away without looking back.

Vincent stared after him for a moment before turning and walking off in a different direction.

Not understanding what he had just seen but far more concerned now, Buck started walking after Ezra. He needed to talk to him now, needed to find out what was wrong because something clearly was. He could not just walk away and leave Ezra to whatever trouble had found him. Not when he owed him for friendship and guidance. Not when he loved him, even if he could not tell him that.

He turned the corner around the building, just as Ezra had. The shorter man was nowhere in sight, but there were few places that he could go and Buck was certain that he would find him soon. He kept walking, all his attention now focused on finding Ezra. The crowds and the noise from the tourney no longer called to him; all that mattered was Ezra.

"Buck!"

Buck did not want to stop but John's tone was urgent. "What?"

"Have you seen Ezra?" His apprentice was breathing hard, as though he had been running.

"I caught a glimpse of him a little while ago. I am trying to find him now."

"I just passed by him. He was walking toward the tourney. I called out to him but he did not seem to hear me - he just kept on walking. He does not look good. I came looking for you right after that."

Sudden fear flooded through Buck. What if Ezra was not sick; what if he was leaving? He could very well be upset because he was making preparations to leave town. Buck could hardly believe that he would leave without making any attempt to say goodbye to him. Still, there was much about Ezra that Buck did not know, much that he did not understand. He did not want to risk Ezra's leaving. "John, I am going to go after him. If you see him, convince him to go with you to the smithy. Even if you have to drag him there, get him to the smithy."

"What is wrong?"

"I do not know. I just know that something is wrong and Ezra is likely trying to handle it on his own."

John drew in a deep breath. "He does not have to do that."

"So we will remind him."

John nodded. "I will go look for him." He turned and walked quickly back into the crowd.

Remembering John's words, Buck directed his steps toward the tourney, taking a different route than John had. He maneuvered through the crowd with more speed than care, bumping shoulders with people as he forced his way through. He used his height to his advantage, staring over the heads of others and scanning the crowd in front of him, searching for Ezra blond-red hair and green eyes.

Not seeing him, Buck moved closer to the heart of the tourney. Ezra had not shown any real interest in the tourney so far, but he was already acting oddly so he might just be here. Going on instinct, Buck shifted over to the right, avoiding the lists and staying closer to the merchants. Near to the forest, the crowds were thicker here, making his search more difficult.

Finally, his search paid off. A few yards in front of him he spotted the familiar sight of Ezra's face. He did not call out to the other man, worried that he might actually startle him and start him running. Instead, he moved swiftly through the crowd, pushing his way past people until he was right behind Ezra. He reached out and laid a gentle hand on Ezra's should. "Ezra?"

Ezra spun around, eyes wide and hands coming up defensively. He looked ready for a fight before he realized who had touched him. "Buck?" He dropped his hands. "You startled me."

"I must have." Close up, he could see how very weary Ezra looked; his eyes were bloodshot and his hands were trembling. "Ezra, what is wrong?"

"I do not know what you mean," Ezra said, summoning up a fair imitation of a smile.

It did not fool Buck, though. He had seen real smiles on Ezra's face, fit to light up the day with no help from the sun at all. This was nothing like them. "Ezra..."

Ezra's gaze slid past Buck and fixed on something behind him. "It truly is nothing. Broken sleep has put me in an irregular mood. Some rest and I will no doubt be a new man."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Merely talking in the sights. When will a tourney come here again? This is not a sight to be wasted." Ezra spread his hands in a gesture of innocence. He was still paying most of his attention to something behind Buck.

Wondering what had so captivated Ezra, Buck began to turn around.

"Buck!" Ezra touched his arm, pulling his attention back to himself. "Buck, I need to go." His fingers clenched convulsively on Buck's arm for a moment before he regained control of himself. He dropped his hand back down to his side, a mask of serenity dropping over his features.

Those words and his manner sent fear skittering through Buck once more. "Do not leave."

Ezra stared at him, gaze flicking over Buck's face. "I-"

Buck did not let him finish. "Ezra, please. I do not know what is happening, but do not leave. We can find a way to make it better."

Ezra closed his eyes. "Buck-"

"Buck!" This time it was Christopher's voice that interrupted them.

Buck turned around to see what his friend wanted. He sighted Christopher several yards back. He also noticed one of the duke's men not that far away. He glanced back at Ezra.

Ezra was gone.

"Damn." He should have known better than to turn his back on him. The other man was skittish and Buck had handed him the perfect chance to walk away. He rose up to the balls of his feet, staring over the crowd, searching for Ezra once more. It did not take him long to find him again: this time, Ezra was over near the forest, a few dozen yards from the trees.

Not waiting for Christopher to catch up with him, Buck moved quickly, shoving his way past people in order to catch up to Ezra. If the other man reached the trees than Buck would have no chance of stopping him. Ezra would disappear and Buck might not ever get the chance to find out what was wrong. He pushed himself to move faster, not willing to lose Ezra.

After a few moments, Christopher was at his side. He should have expected that; there was no way his friend could have missed the way he was acting. "What are you doing?" Christopher asked, keeping pace with him.

"Something is wrong with Ezra," he explained shortly. "I want to catch up with him before he reaches the forest because then God only knows when we will see him again."

Christopher nodded and began helping him to cut a path through the crowd. Between the two of them they soon managed to reach the fringe of the crowd. Ezra was not all that far away and Buck began to feel hope that he would be able to reach him in time.

Two of the duke's men flanked them and broke into a trot. Buck watched in surprise as they closed in on Ezra, obviously just as intent as he was to reach him. "Ezra!" he called, not sure what was happening but wanting to warn his friend that something was most definitely happing behind him.

Ezra turned around at the sound of his name. He saw the duke's men approaching him and his eyes widened, his gaze filling with fear. His gaze slipped past them to Buck and he hesitated for a moment.

In that moment, he was lost. The duke's men reached him. The oldest of the soldiers grabbed Ezra by the upper arm and began pulling him back in the direction of Vierecken.

Buck and Christopher reached them a few moments later. "What is happening here?" Buck asked, not liking the way Ezra was being manhandled. He just barely restrained himself from trying to interfere.

"None of your concern," one of the soldiers said.

"This man is my-"

"Please do not concern yourself," Ezra said in a distant tone. "It is merely a misunderstanding."

The soldier who was holding onto him snorted. "Misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding," Ezra repeated. He met Buck's gaze and shook his head, his look clearly begging Buck not to interfere.

It was a struggle, but Buck held himself back. Beside him, Christopher followed his lead and did not move forward, although he did not relax.

"The duke wants to see you," the head soldier said, fingers digging into Ezra's arm.

"Somehow I doubt that he really wants that," Ezra replied, the barest hint of a wince betraying his pain. "Force really is not necessary."

The soldier did not acknowledge his words, just tightened his grip on him.

Buck drew in a deep breath, but Ezra was ignoring him now and he respected the other man's wishes even though he did not understand them. He watched as the soldiers pulled Ezra with them, dragging him back to Vierecken.

"What the hell was that?" Christopher asked.

"I do not know," Buck admitted. He could not tear his eyes away from Ezra and the way he held his head high even while being escorted away like a common criminal. "But I will find out." Something was very wrong with Ezra and Buck was going to find out exactly what it was and how he could help.