Page 83 of Untempered
“Fine,” she snapped, and her eyes cut across me like a lash. “Keep her safe,” she ordered, leaping down from her mount with none of the decorum I expected. I looked away as she kicked her skirts up and kilted them to the side, and simultaneously broke into a long-legged, loping run.
“I need to see the markets,” Audrey told us, the words wooden. But she made no move to leave.
Chay climbed down, took the reins of Isolde’s mount and gave the animal some attention. It seemed not at all bothered, though. Not like us. Chay sent a long, meaningful look my way. I lifted my shield from its spot on my saddle, strapped it to my arm, and turned to face back the way we’d come.
Isolde wasn’t gone for long. “Mostly nets, boats, barrels, and fish,” she reported to us, taking her reins back and leaping up lithely, flicking her skirts to resettle them. “Some bodies,” she added, matter-of-factly. “Not as many as I expected.”
The chill in my breast spread to my bones.
“Did the plague kill them?” Audrey asked her, her voice heavy with the question.
Isolde drew a deep breath. “I didn’t get close, Audrey.” The little lady waited, and Isolde let out the air she’d so carefully drawn in. “Damn it,” she muttered. “I saw one—one—that was clearly cut down. But most of them were too burnt to tell.”
“How many?”
Isolde’s patience surprised me when she said softly, “I don’t know. The pyre was huge, but as I said, it was mostly nets and wood from what I could see. Lingering there is no wiser than lingering here.”
“If it’s spread via the fish, we’re safe here,” the lady said, but she was turning her mount.
“Yes.” The word was brief, sharp, as Isolde came toward me to take her place at the front. “If.”
Audrey hesitated a moment more, clearly wanting to explore for herself. Behind her, I watched Chay watch her, waiting, his face a study of neutrality. “Which market should we head to, my lady?” I asked Audrey.
She started for a moment, clearly being torn from her thoughts. “The main,” she replied grimly.
“Market?” Isolde demanded, turning to look at Audrey incredulously, her cheeks pale where her scarf had slipped.
Audrey lifted a hand toward the barren bay of La’Angi, her expression somber. The wordless explanation made Isolde close her eyes for the briefest of moments. Grief? I doubted it. Anger, more like, that the lady risked herself.
I wanted to ask them how long it would take before I was free to do my duty, but at the end of the day, protecting Audreywasmy duty. The question clawed at my chest as we made our way through tense streets, as we stopped to let a group of men pulling a cart covered in thick burlap toward the lower levels of the city, their faces shrouded with cloth, expressions bleak. None of us asked what was in that cart.
The market wasn’t empty, as I’d half feared; however, the stalls usually full of vegetables were all but bare, offering only the poorest selection of sad-looking wares. The bakery had a sign up saying they were out of stock, and the butcher’s hooks were clean. The fletcher and the furrier were still there, but no one stopped at their stalls.
We rode through as we could never have done safely on a normal day. The crowds that usually clustered were replaced by hurried, grim-faced, shocked-looking individuals. None of us spoke as we rode. Audrey led us along a path through the main market into the park.
As we approached the Bonetree, I kept my eyes ahead. There was still a patrol on it, but only one pair. The wind whispered through the hollowed bones craftsmen had turned into chimes and hung high in its branches, making haunting music.
I remembered shimmying up that trunk as a boy, before the punishments had been so severe. I remembered my ma whispering words and tucking little bundles of whatever she could find into the gaps where the roots lifted themselves forcefully from the ground. Back in those days, for a bit of copper, you could play as long as you liked, and no one would remember. Now, the price was silver, and you had to be quick.
Even the lady got suspicious looks from the guardsmen on duty. She stared at the tree, frowning, but didn’t stop. The sky threatened us with dark clouds, but we kept the same pace, taking another route back to the castle. We stopped twice for groups of guardsmen—once taking an empty cart toward the lower levels of the city, once for a group with a full cart returning. They saluted the lady smartly as they passed us by. She watched, unblinking. I saw Isolde looking down at her own fist on her saddle horn. The gloves hid her skin, but I knew she must be ill and was no doubt hurting.
“Who’s in charge of the guard today, Thomas?” she asked me as that heavy cart was pulled through a lesser gate toward the castle.
I shrugged. “I don’t know, my lady.” It was the truth.
“Is anyone, really?” she asked me.
All I could do was repeat, “I’m sorry, my lady. I just don’t know.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
CHAY
“Growing certain plants together can encourage faster growth, provide ground cover and shade, improve your overall soil nutrition, and also increase both the size of your harvest and the flavor of your crops. These plants will be referred to as ‘companion plants’ for the remainder of this text.”
~ Growing Greatness: Common Garden Plants in Arcanloc
As soon as I walked out of the entry chamber and saw her scrambling up from the ground, I knew exactly what I’d interrupted.
