Page 67 of Boundless
Once she was dressed she eased Drokas into his sling and tied him close against her body, quieting him. "I know, dove," she murmured into his sweet little head, stroking his back through the fabric of the sling as she marched to Tesse and Sev's tent, which was closest to hers and Len's. "We'll find him, though. I promise you, my love." Her baby fidgeted and wriggled against her, loosing little grumbles as he responded to her anxiety.
"Tess! Sev!" She gave the entry charms a hard rattle, hoping her sister and her lover were up.
Something crashed inside, and then her sister was opening her doorflap, her long hair tousled and one tit bare from how her slip had twisted and ridden up in her sleep. "Daega? What's wrong?"
"I—I can't find Len," she admitted, the words leaving a sour bite on the back of her tongue. "He's not—"
Sevren joined them, auburn hair wild and skin ghostly pale under his freckles. "He's gone?"
"I don't know," she admitted, rocking Drokas when he started to cry softly.I know, me too,she commiserated silently. "I woke up and he was just gone, nowhere in the tent, no note..."
"Give us a minute to get dressed. We'll help you look," Tesse said, somber as she and Sevren retreated back into their tent. Daega remained outside, cuddling and murmuring to Drokas, as much to soothe herself as her son. But Len was better at this than her by far, and the poor babe was likely hungry, too. He'd at least started weaning, so she could pick up some hot mash from the mess tent soon to feed him.
Her sister and Sevren emerged quickly, Tesse's long hair up in a knot that showed off the shaved sides.
"I think I want to check Granny's tent first," she told them, "Would you check with Mum and Da? Maybe he went for a visit and just forgot to let me know?"
She didn't think so, but Sweet Delenaa, she had to startmoving, had to startdoingsomething, or she thought her skin might tear from all the tension building up in her muscles.
Tesse set off with a nod, and Daega set off for Granny’s tent, her heart in her throat. She was blind and deaf to everything else, the friendly greetings of the few people she met along the way bouncing right off of her.
Gran was already up, her heavy, uneven steps audible from beyond the open doorflap as she got set up for the day.
"Gran!" she called as she strode inside. "Have you seen Len this morning?"
Granny paused in her task and turned to look at her. "Naw, I hevny seen him since dinner. Fit's wrong, lass?"
Daega's lips pressed into a hard line, panic howling in her skull, but she shoved it away. Now was not the time for that. She could fall apart after she had him back safe. "He wasn't there when I woke. I don't know where he is."
"A'll get Mal. We'll find him, dove," Granny said, her gentle voice at odds with the grim set of her face. "Has Drokas eaten yet?"
Daega shook her head, bouncing her fussing child. "No, and he's mighty upset about it. But I'll have to wait to give him mash until the mess tent opens. I used up the last of what I had on hand last night..."
Granny was shaking her head, reaching for the babe already. "A'll get him sorted. Ye focus oan finding oor dear Lenlethael."
Daega clutched her son tighter for a moment, loathe to give him up when his warm weight and soft scent were soothing her so well, but she had to admit it would allow her to search more quickly. She gave a terse nod, undoing the knots holding him in place and handing him over to the older Istariin. "He's clean and changed," she told Yollyn, brushing her knuckles over his cheek as he settled against Granny. "I'll come back as soon as I can."
"Dae whit ye need, girl," Granny said thickly, clapping Daega's shoulder once. "He'll be safe an’ sound here fur as long as he needs t’be."
Daega nodded, not trusting her voice, and then she was off, heading to her parent's tent to raise the alarm.
LEN WAS NOWHEREin camp, not a trace of her darling husband anywhere to be found, even after long hours of searching.
Daega wanted to fly into a rage, to shriek her misery to the skies and collapse from the anguish throbbing through her. But she pushed on, keeping her peace, until they discovered the body of a dead guard stashed under a tarp near the southern perimeter. Her throat had been slashed, a clean and gaping wound, and Daega knew, justknew, that somehow Haedelon had done this.
There were tracks leading away from the camp not far from where they'd found the body, bootprints and parallel drag marks, like something—or someone—had been dragged partway. Daega's breaths became panting, her vision whiting out in panic when she spotted a spatter of blood on the grass, but not long after the tracks disappeared, and not even Tesse’s clever nose could pick the trail back up again.
She sank into a deep crouch, head hanging. He was gone. Just...justgone. Stolen, by the looks of it, and there was only one person she could think of who would take him. One person who would have little enough sense to take a member of the horde and cowardly enough to do it so sneakily.
Tesse dropped into a crouch beside her. "There’s nowhere else to check?"
Daega could only shake her head, her eyes aching with unshed tears. "He's gone," she croaked, her voice unrecognizable to her own ears. She swallowed down the bile threatening at the back of her throat, despair settling like a rock in her gut. Tesse put an arm around her shoulder, the two women quiet.
Kevothaen reached them next, his heavy steps punctuated by the creak of leather and the jingle of metal clinking together all over his huge, imposing figure.
Her father snarled behind her and Tesse, the sound a precursor to a deafening roar that startled birds into the air and made several horses in the camps whinny. She stumbled upright and faced her father. She'd never seen him so furious, every muscle tense and shivering and his sharp teeth bared. He looked every inch the deadly warlord in that moment, and a part of her almost felt sorry for Haedelon.
Almost.
