Page 33 of Untempered
She was safe. That’s why they weren’t discussing her. The knowledge settled in my belly and brought me a measure of peace.
Around me, discussion had turned to escape. Kadan used the information we’d gathered on our way into the city to outline what we’d need to force our way free, but we all knew it wasn’t really an option. Luca’s family holdings were on this side of the Aza Ranges. If the South knew their heir was being tortured, it would be a race to see who’d reach Luca first—forces from La’Angi, or assassins from the South.
While we shared the common goal of hating the King, the harmful monopolies that hamstrung hard-working people, and the laws that kept us all silent and subservient, our small rebellion had little in common with the South, and we all knew it. They were the poor cousin none of us really wanted to deal with, so far in debt you’d invite them over to break bread and feel obligated to send them home with half your larder. I’d been that cousin. I’d bit the hand that fed me, not understanding it wouldn’t also punish, thinking only of short-term survival. I got why Luca had entered into an agreement with the South, and I also understood why no one was entirely comfortable with having them at the table. One cousin you could help. A region of them, though, that had once been a nation?
“I’ll send word to the Worgs,” Luca said heavily. “They might be able to help the woman. At least they’ll appreciate hearing it from us.”
The woman.I wondered if she’d been the only assassin who hadn’t been a man, and why they’d sent her after Audrey. I wondered how she’d lived and how the Matri’sion had faired. And while they discussed how they could reduce the harm to the relationship between our group and the Southern rebels, I felt the walls closing in on me.
Someone was going to need to get Luca out of this place alive. Kadan was going to volunteer, of course, but he was highly visible. The less movement around his quarters, the better. Callum was a better bowman than I and arguably a better horseman, too. But I was here, and in close quarters, I’d do Luca more good than Callum.
Darrius was patiently listening to Luca insist the Southern heir had more to lose if she spoke than if she didn’t, but Kadan met my eyes over Luca’s head. At my silent summons, he quietly stood and slipped around the outside of their conversation without disturbing them, his stockinged feet padding quietly on the stone.
“I’ll get Callum to accompany us,” I murmured. “Want me to see Luca home?”
Kadan shook his head. “He’s got his own men,” he murmured. “Ready their horses, and yours, and Cals, for a dawn rush. Just get them out, unless you’re spotted. You’re in the melee, friend. Use it as an excuse to be in the city if you need. I can always meet you at the tourney ground.”
I didn’t like the idea of being so far away from Kadan, but if things got hairy, it was a better alternative than outright fleeing.
“There’s a limit to how long you can hold onto yourself, son,” Darrius was saying. “Victor, he’s made a career knowing exactly where that limit is.”
My belly twisted. I put my hand on the door. “I’ll let Cal know,” I told Kadan, and he nodded his agreement. Briefly, his hand rested on my shoulder. His eyes didn’t smile as he met my gaze. But he didn’t stop me or ask how I was faring.
He knew I wasn’t going down into that mud.
CHAPTERELEVEN
ISOLDE
“When unexpectedly coming across someone you know, it is permissible to apologize for your lack of preparation, but ensure your chagrin does not override your joy to greet them. Make it clear you are always happy to see your acquaintances.”
~Etiquette in Arcanloc
I’dknownI should’ve pushed Ettie to leave before the tourney. Now the city was flooded, and sneaking her out would take more bribes. Worse, with the whisper of war and the failed assassination attempts, everyone was walking on eggshells. Ettie’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking, and the bruises around her throat might need a little more coin to help people forget. I’d need to pay for her to travel as a guest, at least for a while, to give her time to recover. I’d budgeted on her working as she traveled.
But the worst was that she still wasn’t ready to leave.
Balancing the tray of apple turnovers and breakfast foods that had been my excuse to visit Ettie in the kitchens away from her husband and children, I moved quickly along cold hallways. Behind me, I could hear the servants stirring, going around to light the braziers in preparation for the well-to-do who wouldn’t be eating for hours. Out the window, the mist hid most of the city, and I could almost imagine I was back in my forest, the stone wall to one side of the mountain, the pillars and hip-height safety railing, the trees and brush.
If I could get Ettieto the safety of those woods, so much the better. And if she needed to take her children with her, they’d be more than welcome there, too. I could deal with the added cost and inconvenience. And with the failed assassination attempts—and the one success—they’d be looking for Southerners. Not short, flour-dusted women with an infant on the hip and another on the breast.
The trick was making her realize it wasn’t actuallyherfault that she was married to a fair-weather fiend.
I didn’t hesitate when I saw Wade at the post before Audrey’s door, with a member of the guard on the other side. But unease twisted in my gut.
They didn’t usually change shifts this time of day. It was possible Rulff had been pulled away on another matter, but after the upheaval of the last few days, I felt my focus narrow and my blood quicken in my veins.
There was nothing unusual about Wade’s appearance, except for his timing. The guardsman’s presence wasn’t unusual either, except that he’d also switched, and that I didn’t recognize him, which meant he wasn’t a regular within the keep. My options stretched out before me, and I quickly discarded most. They stood between Audrey and I. And shewouldopen the door, if they knocked.
I was, undoubtably, overly cautious. But that’s why I was alive.
I approached the archway leading to her room without altering my pace. As usual, I flicked Wade a glance that made my disgust for him crystal clear, cutting from his clean-shaven face to his pristine boots, the hallmarks of La’Angi brutes. Behind his boots I noticed a bottle with the unmistakable stamp of magework on the broken deep green sealing wax.
Battle energy flooded my body, and I dropped my weight, whirling the tray at the guard I didn’t know. He went down in a tumble of pastry, porridge, and pottery. I went to grab for his spear but was brought up short, an arm under my breasts and a hand slapping a cloth painfully across my mouth.
I tasted blood and felt my ribs groan under the force of his hold. The smell of metal, oil, and herbs hit my nose and made my head swim. I held my breath and went to drive my head back into Wade, but he avoided the strike and grabbed my right hand, pinning it against my side. His breath was hot. I flexed, making myself as big as I could, and felt the laughter he expelled across my cheek like a toxic cloud.
Then I relaxed.
