Throat aching, she asked softly, “Do you think then that you will now have that wife and child?”
His rusty laugh broke out. “No. This pleases me. This purpose I have now, serving as armor for my Ran and his bride.”
And perhaps he still could not bear to lose so much again. Her heart full, she said nothing for a long moment. “Do you miss the raids?”
He responded with the side-to-side head motion that meant there was no truthful or easy answer to give, and then they both glanced up as Maddek and the Dragon joined them, along with Nami and Seri, and the woman whom Yvenne had been briefly introduced to before he’d disappeared into the tent—Enox, his first captain.
A strange combination of expressions they wore. She saw tension and unease, as if perhaps the gathering had not gone well. Or perhaps it was only the battle ahead and the knowledge that her father’s army lay not far south. Maddek’s face she could not easily read, though he seemed not tense.
“I would hear this, too,” Maddek said, settling down beside her. “All that I have known of raids are legends and songs, and many among our tribes feel as if we are not truly the riders of the Burning Plains if we are not also raiders.”
“Was that one of the questions posed to you?”
He gave a quick smile. “It was. But I would hear Banek’s answer.”
The old warrior’s reply began on a heavy sigh. “I would give much to raid again—though when those dreams come to me, it is not the treasures or valuables that I wish to have. It is the nights by the fire with my sister and fellow warriors. It is the laughter we shared, and the excitement of it. Of concealing ourselves so carefully as a caravan would pass, and then my sister farting so loudly that she gave away our hiding spot. What I miss is not the theft. It is what we shared. And is what many warriors still share in the Parsathean army—or here, with the Dragon. I suspect that is why I have always been part of the alliance army. There are many moments that are the same.”
“Except the farting is usually Kelir,” Ardyl said, though emotion burned in her eyes—as if she had been deeply affected by Banek’s words.
As had Yvenne. For she had shared so many similar joys and excitement and dangers while traveling with them. She looked to Maddek. “And what was your answer?”
“Much the same,” he said. “But also that in those legends and songs, a raider’s honor was in never stealing from those in need and always taking from those who had plenty. From nobles, from kings. No true harm was ever done, they said—and if any raider took from someone in need, always he made amends.”
“That is truth,” Banek said.
“But it is not a full truth,” Maddek countered quietly. “Allies we have made of Syssia and Rugus, and so we trade now instead of raid them for riches. But in that alliance, other friendships have we made. And we have learned much about their kings and nobles that we once stole from—enough to know that stealing from them harmed those in need. Either because a generous king would have passed on those riches, to feed or clothe his people, or because a greedy king would extract from his people the cost of what was stolen. Always the most needy and vulnerable paid for our raids in some way.”
Yvenne’s heart had swelled all the more as he spoke. She knew not what the Parsatheans in that tent might have thought of such an answer, yet to her, it was the finest of responses.
And it was not one of the lessons she had given him, though many similar conversations they’d had while sailing north. So perhaps she had been in that tent with him in some way, after all.
But the battle in the throne room was over for now. A far different battle lay ahead. “What was decided regarding my father?”
“We ride south at first light,” Enox said.
A full day of travel. And perhaps a day or more of messages sent and demands made. Then if her father did not surrender . . . the fighting would begin.
Throat tight, Yvenne nodded. She had not been fully prepared to face her brother. But much had changed, and so many warrior’s lessons she’d had—lessons that had sharpened her mind as well as her bow.
“You will not ride with us,” Maddek told her—gently, as if he knew what a blow it would be, and yet still it left her reeling.
“Not ride with you?” What sense did that make? “He brings Syssian soldiers with him. They will listen to me and—”
Maddek shook his head. “We know not what lies he might have told them. Just as your brother tried to paint you as a demon, he might claim that we have forced you to send any message. No doubt he will tell them this is a rescue and to ignore all else until you are securely in his possession again.”
Enox nodded. “If your father’s sole purpose is to reclaim you, then we must not make it easy by taking you to him.”
That was sensible and yet . . . “Those are my people you will be raising swords against,” she told Maddek in anguish. “My soldiers you will kill to reach him. Let me try to persuade them to raise their swords against my father, instead.”
“I swear to you that I will reach out my hand to them,” he vowed gruffly. “The soldier you sent to the council with your brother’s corpse—”
“Jeppen.”
“You asked him to tell the others that you would return and that your father’s rule would end. You told him that you went with me willingly. If that word has spread, then you may have already persuaded them.”
Perhaps. Though she knew it was a thin hope. “So I am to stay here?”
“No. This camp will be near to empty—and is the most obvious place for him to search for you after he realizes you are not with us. Instead we will hide you away.”
She did not want to be hidden away. But in this, it seemed she had little say, too. Throat thick, she asked, “Where?”
He held out his hand. “I will show you.”
CHAPTER 35
YVENNE
They rode west and north, with dread tightening in Yvenne’s gut all the way. For tomorrow would see Maddek leaving to fight her father’s army, and her own people, and nothing she would know of what happened there until two or three more days had passed.
As the sun was setting, Maddek drew closer to Yvenne’s mount. “There it is.”
With a lift of his chin he gestured ahead, yet Yvenne saw nothing. Only grass and firebloom, all the way to the horizon.
When she looked to him in confusion, he grinned at her. “We make use of what we have. We have not many stones to build walls, and the dirt crumbles too easily to make good bricks. So this is our defense, instead.”
She looked again. “But I see . . . nothing.”