It was only another day’s ride before I could be rid of him. He’d fit in well with the chievdars, though. His favorite topic was domination over the enemy swine and all the ways they should be sliced and strung. Wait until he learned we had two enemy swine sleeping in the Sanctum. Neither I nor the men traveling with me had told him, hoping to avoid another tirade.
Most of the time when he spoke, I tried not to listen anyway. Instead I thought of Lia, wondering what had passed in the last eight days. I had charged Eben and Aster with making sure she had everything she needed and called upon Griz to look after her too. He had taken a liking to her, which was not in his nature—but Griz was strong in the old ways of the hillfolk, and the gift had heft with them. With the three of them watching after her, she would be fine, I kept telling myself.
I thought of the taste of our last kiss, the concern in her eyes, the softness of her voice when she asked about my mother. I thought maybe the tide was turning for us. I thought about how much I couldn’t wait to return to her and listen to her chant the acknowledgment of sacrifice. Paviamma. Every word that—
“And then I said to him—”
“Shut up, Governor!” I snapped. “For three blessed hours, until we set camp, shut up!”
My soldiers smiled. Even the governor’s squad smiled.
The governor puffed out his chest and scowled. “I was only trying to break up the monotony of the ride.”
“Then spare us. The monotony suits us fine.”
I went back to my thoughts of Lia. How could I tell her that I knew in my gut from almost the beginning that we were meant to be together? That I had seen myself growing old with her. That a gift I wasn’t even sure she really possessed had told me her name long before I ever laid eyes on her.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
PAULINE
Bryn leaned forward, looking into his cider. He was the youngest of Lia’s older brothers, always the cheerful, fresh-mouthed one, who got into as much mischief as Lia. The past several months had sobered him. There were no grins on his face now, no quips on his tongue. “Regan and I secretly cheered when she bolted. We never thought it would come to this.”
“Walther too?”
He nodded. “Maybe him most of all. He’s the one who left false leads up north for the trackers.”
Regan leaned back in his chair and sighed. “We had all voiced our opposition to shipping her off to a stranger and strange land. We knew she’d be miserable, and there are other ways of creating an alliance with a little persistent diplomacy—”
“But apparently, Mother wouldn’t hear of it,” Bryn interjected, the first hint of bitterness in his tone.
The queen? “Are you sure?” I asked.
“She and the Royal Scholar were the first to suggest they accept the proposal from Dalbreck.”
That was impossible. I knew the queen. She loved Lia, I was sure of it. “How do you know this?”
Regan explained that after Lia disappeared, there was a huge row between his mother and father. They were so incensed they hadn’t retreated to their private chambers to vent their anger. “Father accused her of undermining him and making him look like a fool. He said that she never should have pushed the matter if she couldn’t control her own daughter. They shot the sordid details at each other like they were poison arrows.”
“There has to be an explanation for all of this,” I said. “Your mother loves Lia.”
Regan shrugged. “She refuses to discuss the matter with any of us, including the king. Even Walther couldn’t pry anything loose, and he is always able to coax things from her.”
Bryn said she mostly stayed in her chamber, even for meals, and he only saw her walking the halls when she was on her way to see the Royal Scholar.
“But the Scholar hates Lia,” I said.
Regan nodded in agreement. The animosity between Lia and the Scholar wasn’t a secret. “We assume she’s seeking comfort and counseling in the Holy Text. He is the expert on such things.”
Comfort. Possibly. But I could hear the doubt in Regan’s voice.
Bryn downed the rest of his cider. “You’re sure she was abducted?” he asked again. His tone was laced with despair. I knew how much he loved his sister, and the thought of her in barbarian hands brought him heartbreaking misery.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“We’ll confront both Mother and Father,” Regan said. “We’ll make them listen. We’ll get her back.”
They left, and my spirits lifted. Regan’s resolve gave me a sliver of hope at last. He reminded me so much of his brother. If only Walther were here to stand with them too. I kissed my fingers and prayed for Walther’s swift return.
I pushed up from the table to go back to our room. I could see the weariness in Gwyneth’s face too as she rose. It had been a long day of waiting and anticipation.
“Well, there you are!”
Gwyneth and I both whirled around.
Berdi stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips. “Blazing balls, I’ve been to half the inns from here to the lowlands looking for you two! I didn’t think you’d be snug up in the middle of town.”
I stared at her, not quite believing what I was seeing.
Gwyneth found her tongue before I did. “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t season a pot of stew to save my life worrying about you two and what happened to Lia. Figured I’d be more useful here.”
“But who’s watching the tavern?” I squeaked.
Berdi shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” She wiped her hands on her dress as if she were wearing an apron, then sniffed the air. “Not much in the way of cooking here either, I see. I may have to poke my head in the kitchen.” She looked back at us and raised her brows. “Don’t I get any kind of welcome?”
Gwyneth and I both rushed into her wide-spread arms, and Berdi swiped at tears she blamed on the dusty ride. The only thing missing in that moment was Lia.
I hold her back.
Be still, child.
Let them take it.
She trembles at my side,
Fierce with rage.
We watch the scavengers take the baskets of food we have gathered.
There is no compassion. No mercy.
Tonight we will go hungry.
I see Harik, their leader, among them.
He eyes Morrighan, and I shove her behind me.
Silver knives glitter at his side,
and I am grateful that when they leave,
He does not take more.
—The Last Testaments of Gaudrel
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Calantha escorted me to the bath chamber. While my door was no longer locked as if I were a prisoner, my new freedoms apparently still required guards posted at the end of my hall as a precaution, the Komizar claimed, and I had no doubt they reported back to him every single time I so much as poked my head out the door. I also had escorts, who were essentially guards too, everywhere I went. Last night when Calantha walked me back to my room, she hadn’t spoken a word. This morning seemed to bring more of the same treatment.
We entered the dreary, windowless bath chamber, lit only with a few candles, but this time instead of a wooden barrel, there was a large copper tub. It was half full of water, and waves of steam shimmered over the surface. A hot bath. I hadn’t thought such a thing existed here. The sweet scent of roses filled the air. And bath oils.