Page 109 of Untempered
He bowed again, and left.
“That man barely slept last night and hasn’t stopped since,” Chay said quietly. “Be careful how often you use spurs.”
Disoriented, I shook my head. I hadn’t meant today. A quick glance at the window indicated there was enough daylight to return to the field hospital, barely. But by the time I’d processed that, Thomas was already gone. I could’ve run after him, but what would it change? Would he opt to stay and rest?
The reality was I needed Kaelson here, making it work. La’Angi was vulnerable to external and internal forces, and damned if I was letting it get to trial by combat just to survive a day in this city.
Not that it’d ever been much different, I supposed. And mayhap removing the veneer was good. Mayhap it helped us all see.
“What happened?” I asked Chay.
“I gather she sheltered overnight with a beekeeper, then made it to your stockpile.”
The cache. It was known to Ylva, now. Isolde wouldn’t want to replace what we’d lost from it, but find another somewhere nearby. She liked to keep one along every route out of the city. “She escaped unscathed?”
“Apparently. She didn’t say much. The weather did her no favors, but that beekeeper probably saved her life.”
“The Southerners?”
“No sign of them, but we didn’t go even half the distance to where they attacked us.” He poured himself a cordial. “I can’t believe she got away and made it so far on foot, sick as she is.”
If he still needed convincing, then I didn’t know how to help him. “I know I lost my head last night,” I said, just to have it done. “I’m sorry.” I wanted to offer some sort of assurance on how I’d deal with it next time and what I could do to avoid it, but I didn’t know what tomorrow held, and any assurances would be a lie. Itwouldhappen again if we all lived. It was just where and when I couldn’t be sure of. And I didn’t have the energy to explain any of that to this man, who rightfully resented me.
I was sorry he’d come after me all that time ago. I was sorry he’d sworn that oath. I was sorry I hadn’t let him take his chances with Mikus in that tourney and limp home to lick his wounds. I was sorry I’d gone riding that day and fallen into his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, letting go of old regrets and turning toward new ones as I went up the stairs to Isolde.
CHAPTERFORTY-TWO
CHAY
“An army in step is an army unstoppable.”
~ Barloc’s Wisdom, compiled by F. Bergsoniir
Ilengthened my stride to get ahead of the man I’d found healthy enough to help carry wood, juggling my armload and the keys too. “We’re lucky to have the lady,” he told me, eyeing the big, imposing door to the tower with its beaten metal scrollwork that doubled as iron reinforcements.
If he thought the outside was ugly, he should see the inside. There it didn’t pretend to be anything except what it was—a jail. And I it’s keeper.
I said nothing. Were we lucky to have her?
She was behind her desk when we came in, rolling the merchant coins I’d seen her playing with between her fingers. We were greeted with a smile, but it was an absent one, her quill scratching swiftly across parchment at irregular intervals as she poured over what seemed to be three tomes at once.
“Sorry to interrupt your studies, milady,” the servant said tentatively. “If you’re agreeable, I’ll bring up another load.”
She tore her eyes away from the tome, her smile wide and warm. “Studies? I suppose it is. Trying to take on the job of a Master Steward without all the information makes it feel more like a puzzle, though. I’d appreciate the extra wood, thanking you, sir.” He bowed low to her. I went to leave with him, and she stood. “A moment, sir Chay?” she asked, and there was no way I could avoid those soul-warming eyes.
I thought I saw approval in the man’s gaze as I bowed to her, too. Thomas’ warning about modesty and reputation rang in my ears as the servant let himself out, his steps loud in the quiet of the tower. Hers were barely a whisper of fabric swaying around her legs as she came over to fold herself in the chair by the fire absentmindedly. The pile of blankets she’d slept in last night still bore her imprint.
My mind went to the reason she was sleeping here, and I kept my fleeting misgivings to myself. A shattered reputation killed slower than the plague.
“Have you an errand for me, then?” I asked as her gaze settled on the coals.
She took a deep, bracing breath. The glow of the fire was reflected in her eyes, in the orange in her hair. “Kaelson visited while you were gone.”
Our pause after that statement was filled by the crackle of the fire kept stoked high. Isolde hadn’t recovered properly. I hadn’t seen her, anyway. And Audrey said little. But the heat, apparently, helped.
Thomas had come and gone twice since we’d last seen Ylva with an arrow in her chest. Kaelson had been unofficially pulling strings in the background. There were people on the walls, now, consistently. There were organized duties.
