Page 71 of Untempered
It felt like she’d stolen all the joy from the room when she left. I was glad she’d helped herself to it. “Be careful,” I told him, gathering up her cup and brew. “We’ve no room for more enemies.”
“Are you threatening me?” he asked, the words low and dangerous.
I rolled my eyes, and the compassion died brutally. As if I’d expend energy togive upan advantage? A friendly reminder was wasted on this man. “Mayhap you ought to do a lap of the battlements,” I suggested. “Cool off.” And mayhap we’d get lucky, and the north wall would crumble under the weight of his ego, sending him for a nice dip.
Upstairs, Audrey was brushing out her hair. She paused to take a sip. “What do you plan to do about the would-be assassin?”
Her expression became determined, and I sent a moment of prayer to my gods for patience. “We could take her with us.”
It wasn’t a question, but the tone she used, the lift of her voice at the end, and the way she lingered undermined the strength of her statement.
She’d gone toe-to-toe with the Captain of the guard without losing her cool, though. That had been a drawn-out exercise in “how to out-polite a man furious he’s backed himself into a corner”. The poor child deserved some gentleness.
There wasn’t much to be had in La’Angi, and I had little to spare. But I said, “Audrey, you know that’s a bad idea.”
“She wants to hurt my father,” Audrey pointed out, sensibly. “I want to hurt my father. We’re practically sworn allies, Isolde.”
“A lot of people want to hurt your father,” I reminded her. “For good reason. That doesn’t mean they’ll be your friend. People can dislike the Butcherandnot give a tinker’s cuss about you.” This one had also already attempted to murder Audrey, but I figured that could go without saying. “If you’re curious about having her in your bed, I can introduce you to some lovely women who might strike your fancy and not your jugular.” Color flared in her cheeks, but I didn’t know if that was because she was uncomfortable with the topic, or with the accuracy of my guess. “Or if it’s just a fleeting experience you’d prefer, you’re best to pay for quality services from a professional.”
She cleared her throat. “That wasn’t my intention. I assumed what she said was simply a ploy to catch my attention.”
It had worked, too. “If you take her out, she’ll attempt to kill you, then flee.”
“I think you’re right.” She sighed in regret, setting down her comb gracelessly to nurse her tisane. “Why didn’t he kill her?”
Playing “let’s predict the Butcher” was one of the games I enjoyed less than others. “Leverage. Amusement. Control. Evidence.” I shrugged. “Why should he? It isn’t like she can escape and cause him harm, and feeding one more mouth is no strain.”
“Do you think she’s important?” Audrey mused. “To the Southerners?”
I sighed. “If she is, what does it change?” She was stuck in another rut, and I could just see where we were going. “If I agree to free her, we could escape in her wake. Use her like a distraction.”
“Divide their attention,” Audrey agreed, clearly thinking she could talk me into fleeingwiththe woman rather thanaway from her.“I like it, Isolde.”
I did, too, if she’d agree to actually get out of here. But when I looked into my charge’s eyes, I didn’t believe it.
She was dug in. This was her home. It was on the tip of my tongue to acknowledge it, but she turned away, finishing her drink in one hearty mouthful, breaking the moment. I held in another sigh, feeling it nestle up under my ribs.
It had been a long time since my encounter with the soothsayer’s prophetic vision. The burning need I’d had to end the control the locways had on the lives of so many, to disrupt our predetermined destinies, had settled over time. Whenever I recalled where we were and how long we’d been here, I had to struggle against a sense of failure.
But mayhap we were exactly where we needed to be to untether fate from its moorings. It was possible my charge was the agent of change. She’d driven plenty of it so far. And if she wasn’t, well, she’d likely be another lesson. So I left Audrey to find joy in her hope a little longer.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
ISOLDE
“Before the growth goes the fire.” ~ Raider’s Ban proverb
Ihesitated in the shadows as the guardsmen trekked tiredly toward their mess, leaving the odd spot of mud behind them.
“…the Captain gone, surely?”
“He’ll put Smythesson in, for sure. I bet the asslicker’ll forget the coin he owes me the minute he chooses my damned patrols.”
“Smythesson is greener than the orchard in spring,” the first guard disagreed. “Who cares if his cousin is a noble?”
“Steward Daniel does,” the second guard told him, glumly. “I don’t like this. My Mara, she’s worried, too.”
“We can’t just shut our doors,” the first one said. “Lock it all out.”
