Page 65 of A Weave of Lies
“Nothing,” he replied, dragging his touch away from her. “I lied, witch.”
Estevan escorted her to her horse, then helped her back onto the sidesaddle. Semras avoided his gaze all along. Even after he returned to Pagan, she kept her eyes trained on the mane of her gelding.
“Break is over,” he declared somewhere further away. “Move it!”
Semras welcomed the fast pace he set. Riding at the start of the column, the inquisitor couldn’t see the deep crimson still burning on her face.
Chapter 14
Hourspassed,withstillno sight of Castereina on the horizon.
Gloom settled upon Semras’ mood—the sun was descending rapidly in the sky, taking with it both daylight and her hope to reach the city before it died for good. By the time they arrived at a small settlement, night had fallen. Stars shone brightly in the darkened sky, and everyone looked both tired and irritable.
With its many inns, stables, and supply shops, the village clearly catered to the incessant flow of people travelling between Castereina and the other city-states of the peninsula. Judging by how busy it looked, business was good.
Taverns were overflowing with crowds from all layers of society. At outdoor tables, customers sat around food and wine, sharing a bench with too many other patrons. The clicking of their tankards, lifted in the air to the rhythm of bawdy songs, accompanied the boisterous cheers and laughter echoing through the night.
The rest of the settlement was similarly awake. Some shops still had a lantern glowing within their mud-splattered windows.On the upper floors, giggling women eyed up the inquisitor and his company as they passed by their open windows, waving perfumed scarves to entice the men to join them inside.
The company rode through the settlement, passing by two, three, then four inns bursting with people before Estevan lost patience and walked into the last one. It wasn’t any emptier than the others, but by the time Themas helped her off her gelding, the inquisitor had long since settled the matter. For once, she felt grateful for Estevan’s title—his abuses of power seemed significantly less of an issue when she stood on the profiting side of them.
And abuse his power, he had—the inn expelled all of its patrons outside. Locals and travellers alike sourly stumbled out of the red-thatched building, casting nasty glances at those who had chased them away.
The Venator sword-bearers split into two groups. Half stayed outdoors under the direction of Themas to take care of the horses, while the others followed Sir Ulrech to bring bags and belongings inside.
Once it became clear that she wouldn’t be of any help outside, Semras stepped inside the inn.
Landscape murals and trims of ceramics adorned the walls of the common room. Standing in the middle of it, Sir Ulrech was directing Venator guards with hands full of bags toward the upper level of the inn. On the main floor, tavern maids hastily dragged in additional tables and chairs to furnish the dining area, while others brought from the kitchen fuming bowls of mushroom stew and pitchers of watered-down wine. Baskets of red bread were laid next to pots of honey and slabs of butter on the tables. No meat could be found among the evening’s fare.
It didn’t bother the sword-bearers. As soon as their duties were over, they jumped on their meal with the voracious appetites of weary travellers.
It reminded Semras of the first evening she had spent in their company, back at the roadside inn. The men had been far more turbulent back then when their master hadn’t been there to watch them.
Tonight, however, Estevan was there, sitting alone at a table near the fireplace. Watching the flames dancing before him, he mindlessly chewed on a roasted drumstick. The innkeepers had served meat only to him, reserving it for the exclusive enjoyment of the highest-ranking man in the room.
Not if she could help it, Semras decided. Time to get payback for her bread.
She strode across the main room, ripped the drumstick from his hand, and then sat down in front of him. Her eyes burrowed into him in an unspoken challenge.
He didn’t take it. Smirking, Semras bit into the meat. It was tasty, juicy; she hummed with provocative gusto. “You aren’t hiding in your room tonight, Inquisitor,” she said, finishing her bite.
Estevan arched his eyebrow. “I figured it would be best to remain here and keep you under watch, as you would most likely be trying to run before the end of the night.”
Her smirk slowly fell. “… Why would I?”
“You have something to confess, witch.”
“You cannot be serious,” she said, groaning. “I thought we had sorted it out in the glade already.”
“Inquisitors can take confessions, so I am giving you one chance to come clean.” His eyes brightened with mischief. “Do not waste it.”
Semras watched him warily. No doubt he was only playing with her—again. “I have nothing to confess,” she declared. “Inquire if you must,Inquisitor, but you shall find nothing.”
“Lovely lie, witch, but I am armed with proof this time.”
She huffed. “Then show it, or let me pilfer your plate. I am starving.”
“Take what you desire,” he purred. Gaze still trained on her, Estevan pulled on his collar and slowly unbuttoned his shirt.
