Page 35 of A Weave of Lies
Eyes half-lidded, Estevan glanced down at her. “No. No, of course not. I could hardly blame you, just as I could not blame the wind for blowing. It is not your nature, but theirs that created this mess. Do not dwell on it. I promised you my protection, and you have it.”
“… Thank you.” Her cheeks felt hot. “I didn’t intend to cause any trouble. I never thought glowing eyes were anything extraordinary …”
He chuckled, and it sounded like sincere mirth, not mockery, for once. “There is nothing ordinary about you, witch, least of all your eyes of liquid gold.” He watched her with a smile. “Keep your thanks. I am only fulfilling my end of the deal so you can keep yours.”
“Right.” Semras cleared her throat. “Speaking of which, I know what happened to the woods.”
She had no desire to keep talking sentimentality with the inquisitor, nor dwell on what he thought of her eyes or what else he thought was extraordinary about her. That was best left for later tonight, when sleep wouldn’t claim her and she’d spend hours pondering what he said and what she could have said back.
“Can it be fixed?” he asked.
“Possibly. It’ll depend.” At his questioning gaze, Semras pointed at what she had seen earlier. “On this.”
At the tip of her finger, Themas leaned once more on the wooden pole marking the path.
Estevan cocked his eyebrow, then grinned slowly. “As much as it would amuse me to accuse him of Bleak witchcraft, I do not believe this is what you are referring to. Unless you mean to exchange my knight for your knowledge. In which case, might I suggest you take me instead? You will get more than your money’s worth, I assure you.”
“No! That’s not what I—how could you even imagine I’d ask for—!” Blushing, Semras pointed repeatedly at her true target. “I meant the pole! Or rather, what’s beneath it. The forest is mourning something buried there. If we see what it is, then we might be able to put it to rest.”
“Duly noted, and trade completed. You may now take me.”
Takehim?Semras’ face bloomed into a deeper crimson, and Estevan laughed at her horrified expression.
He wouldn’t if he knew the meaning of his words for a witch. To take a man was no laughing matter; it was a sacred vow spoken in front of the coven Elders, binding two souls together forevermore.
It wasnothingthey’d ever want from each other.
“Very well, I will honour the original bargain, I suppose.” Estevan walked toward the wooden pole, speaking as loudly as he could. “Maldoza! Flex your muscles for the lady and dig up that pole you are leaning against.”
Semras groaned, face still flushed. She’d die of embarrassment before she’d even serve her purpose for the investigation. Grabbing what remained of her dignity, she hurried after him.
Estevan wasn’t done torturing her. She arrived just in time to hear him speak to Themas. “… and I offered myself for the task, but she was quite insistent it had to be you.”
Was it too late to kill him? The Inquisition would execute her afterward, but at least the rest of her life would be blissfully free from further embarrassment.
To the knight’s credit, he looked baffled but didn’t ask for an explanation. He left to fetch a spade instead. With some regret, Semras abandoned her murder plans.
After returning, Themas removed his cloak and stripped out of his brigandine, laying the heavy, black coat of studded cold iron on the ground. His white shirt soon joined the rest of his garments there, and then he stood, chest bare. Unfazed, the knight stretched his arms, grabbed the shovel, and started digging.
Thank the Old Crone for her already flushed skin; the knight had taken the ‘flex your muscles’ part quite seriously. His spade bit into the soil vigorously.
A few scars on Themas’ lean, muscular back caught Semras’ attention. A skilled hand had finely stitched the wounds. They had turned into thin, pale lines against his tanned skin, the scar tissues smooth and barely raised. No fleshwitch had worked on him, yet he had healed so well.
Semras cocked her head, mouth slightly agape, as she wondered how Deprived’s medical knowledge could have achieved that.
By her side, Estevan huffed, then left.
Semras stayed to watch over the progression of the arduous task. Two sword-bearers were soon ordered to come help Themas. With their joint efforts, the soil slowly yielded its rocks and chunks of clay. With every passing minute, Semras grew more anxious.
If she had misunderstood where the forest was pointing, they’d have lost all that time for naught, and the inquisitor would be furious.
She could already feel his patience waning. He came back to pace in front of the diggers several times, leaving only to check their itinerary and growing more restless each time he returned.
After a full hour of joint efforts, a cry from the diggers alerted her they’d found something. Semras looked into the hole—and paled.
There were bones.
Human bones.
