Page 57 of Between Fear and Favor

Dewalt’sheavy footfalls were the only sounds in the half-empty tavern. There should have been laughter and boisterous conversation, but the moment the enormously tall man opened the door, no one made a single sound. Though Dewalt was over a hand-span taller than me, sometimes I forgot just how big he was compared to most people. Ducking under the door frame as he walked in, he’d shoved his hand beneath his cloak. I’d noticed he’d taken to rubbing his chest when he felt any sort of unease, though I suspected his fingers were tracing the cool metal of one of his daggers instead.

“How many rooms left?” he asked the barkeep. I stood a few steps behind him, pulling my cloak tight. Conversations halted as about a dozen men stared at the two of us. One man’s gaze was searing as it went from my head down to my toes. He didn’t leer, just stared at me with beady eyes beneath bushy brows, but it still discomfited me. Instinct brought me closer to Dewalt, my arm brushing against his as I stepped beside him. If it were anyone else who stood there, I wasn’t sure they’d bring me as much relief. He held the confident air of someone in charge—someone people should listen to, and someone who certainly shouldn’t be crossed.

“Three. One bed in each room.”

I pressed my lips together, stopping myself from asking Dewalt about sleeping arrangements. It was one thing to lay amongst men on the tunnel floors as we traveled; it was entirely another to share a bed. Or was it? As a novice, I’d have been beaten for considering such a thing—or worse. Thinking about the soldiers, I determined sharing a bed with Fletcher or Dickey was quite different from sharing the bed of the man beside me. I wouldn’t allow myself to think about why.

“Meals?” Dewalt asked, and the man behind the counter told him what we’d be entitled to with the rooms—ale and stew, it seemed.

My heart began to ache, wishing Eradia and Salas were here. Even though I’d barely spoken to them, the other women would have been a comforting presence in a place such as this—with more men than I could count. But they were dead. They were dead because of me. I’d begged Rhia to heal Salas until her last gasping breath, but my prayers had gone unanswered. I hadn’t even begun to understand the depths of my guilt over what happened.

It was all because I’d been careless.

How could I have known Penellion, the man who had been so friendly the past few weeks, had plans to betray me? Had he been speaking true about the Supreme? Certainly, if he was, I’d have been handed over immediately. I thought of the parchment he’d given me, a means to leave Astana. I should have known. When I ran into him the night before we left, I’d merely told him goodbye, thinking it would be rude of me to disappear after he’d given me an opportunity to leave.

I should have realized he’d wonder how I planned to leave Astana. But how could I have known he’d been searching for some secret route out of the city ever since the queen mother and the princess had left under the cover of darkness? That he’d find a conduit who, when told where to look, was able to sense the obsidian tunnel.

Dewalt had pried the information out of the last member of his group while I cowered in the tunnel and watched. He’d been a fearsome opponent, nearly as tall as Dewalt but twice as wide. Using his limited divinity, the man had pulled up tree roots in an attempt to stop his opponent, but Dewalt was too fast, too agile, and too determined. I hadn’t allowed myself to look away, ensuring I saw every consequence of my decisions. Dewalt used his own divinity, sending impulse after impulse to the bested man until the words poured out of him. Satisfied there wasn’t a traitor in our midst, Dewalt didn’t linger, ending the man’s life—clean and quick.

I’d endangered those whose duty was to protect me. Dewalt was the only person I could truly trust, and I’d put him in harm’s way because of my stupidity.

It was all my fault, and I’d mourn those three soldiers the rest of my life.

When Dewalt pulled out three gold and two silver coins, placing them on the counter, my mouth dropped open. One gold could have bought the entire winter wardrobe Dewalt had purchased for me. The fact he paid it without bartering or remarking on the extreme cost of the rooms made me blink up at him. Perhaps that price was standard; it wasn’t as if I had any knowledge on the matter. Certainly he wouldn’t want to draw attention to us. His hood was pulled up to protect him from being recognized, but with his expensive boots, massive sword, and extreme height? He stood out. Dewalt had been at King Rainier’s right hand for years and years. I would have recognized him within a moment, and I rarely left the temple.

“You’ll get your own copper; don’t worry about sharing,” he murmured as the man behind the counter walked over to a wall with six hooks. He favored one leg over the other, and I couldn’t help but like him a little more for it. There was always a special, silent sort of camaraderie between people who dealt with chronic pain. I didn’t mind the cost of his establishment so much anymore. Truly, I shouldn’t have minded at all—I wasn’t paying for it.

“What is a copper?” I asked, voice quieting as the man walked back over with three keys in his hand.

“A bath. We all need one, and you’ll get one to yourself. Along with your bed.” Though the news of a bath soothed me, I didn’t know which was worse: having to share a bed with one of the soldiers or staying alone in my room in a building full of men. When I didn’t respond, Dewalt eyed me from beneath his hood. Before my racing thoughts could devolve into panic, a smirk curved the edge of his mouth. My eyes were drawn to the single dimple he sported, and something inside me sighed—however faint.

No matter how grumpy he’d been toward me in the past, no matter how distrustful, his contagious smile had given me joy. After the moment in the princess’ quarters, when he’d kissed me and touched me and made meyearn, I had thought I’d see more of that happiness. Even with the hesitation and the harsh words he’d given when Martyr Lucia’s picture fell, I’d wanted more of those blessed smiles.

He lowered his head to speak to me. “You snore, so it’s better for everyone, really, if you’re by yourself.”

“I do not!” I argued, louder than I meant to.

The barkeep—or owner of the inn, I wasn’t sure—glanced between the two of us before making a contemplative sound. “Don’t be lettin’ anyone but me know ye’re not together,” he whispered. Grey whiskers protruding from his brows distracted me as his forehead wrinkled.

“What does that mean?” My heart pounded over the deadly gravel in Dewalt’s voice. He bent forward, nearly silent, reminding me of the black panthers Declan had kept as pets. I’d remembered warily looking at them as I’d walked past the menagerie on occasion. Quiet and beautiful, they’d watch everyone with gleaming eyes. Observant and deadly.

The barkeep held up his hands. “The single men went off t’ Astana. But those wi’ families on the eastern side of the mountains were given leave t’ stay. They gotta work the mines to feed their families.”

“Who is buying silver, anyway?”

“They take it to Nara’s now. Then over t’ Varmeer where Skos comes fer it.” The man grabbed a mug, turning to the wooden keg behind him and pouring some of the honey-colored liquid before sliding it across the counter. “The Crown gets their cut too. Said they’d be buyin’ more after everythin’ is over.”

“Mm, and how many men are here now?”

“‘Bout two dozen. Some live here, others got houses they built for their wives and children.”

Dewalt grabbed the mug, taking a healthy swig of it before setting it down with precision. “And the men given leave to stay,” he started, slowly turning his mug in a circle. “The men left here might be less than respectful to an unaccompanied woman? Is that what you’re telling me?” he asked, loud enough for his words to carry. Dewalt leaned forward, elbows on the counter. For someone trying to stay unrecognized, his bit of bravado wasn’t doing him any favors. But perhaps he was trying to send the message that he was not to be provoked.

The old man tilted his head, quirking a brow and shaking his head. “Aye. It’s been a long winter, and ye know how the worst o’ us can be. I ain’t witnessed nothin’, but I wouldn’ risk it either.”

I shuddered, feeling as if my stomach were turning inside-out. Closing my eyes, I tried not to think of the hollow-eyed novices shoved out of Declan’s quarters. Myfather’squarters. I desperately twisted my mother’s ring on my finger, accidentally bumping Dewalt’s hip with my elbow. I watched as the gold band turned round and round, glinting from a lantern’s light.

“Then it’s a good thing mywifeis not unaccompanied,” Dewalt said, loud enough that it wasn’t remotely subtle. I blinked, surprised by his words.

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