Page 18 of Unrivaled
One year.
“I need to write a response,” I said, setting myself an achievable goal.
Except how could I begin to tally our dead?No one had a clear number.Who’d been lost to the flurry of violence in the docks, the fear?Who’d died of the cold or the hoarders taking all they had?
“I just need a moment,” he said, the words thick.“I’ll be down soon.”
I hesitated, but he’d said he wanted time and the urge todowas an itch under my skin.I turned and went down the stairs, throwing a shawl over my shoulder to conceal at least the top half of what I wore when training: simple clothes Isolde had sourced for just this purpose that would’ve had my etiquette teacher fainting on the spot.
At my desk, I drew out a fresh, narrow piece of parchment, and wondered if she’d lived.
I should’ve had Allison write the response, but Darrius had hand-written it, not because they’d lost their Inker but because…
Because he was scared for Chay.
There were no footsteps outside my door.
For the esteemed Count Darrius of Raider’s Ban, and his staff.I paused, my quill shaking over the paper.I didn’t know his Inker’s name.
I wasn’t supposed to be writing this.I wasn’t supposed to be in this position, in charge of a city on the edge of collapse.When would I have learned his Inker’sname?
We do not have a proper tally of dead and may never be able to count these numbers, as the situation in La’Angi has been complex.I dipped the quill back in the pot, not because it needed ink but to reassure myself.I was overstepping.I was so far outside of where I was supposed to be right now.
There was only one person he cared about.
With the support of Sirs Chay and Thomas, we have maintained control of the city.There.He’d have his answer.
I wondered if he’d fall back, tears in his eyes, too.
Isolde chose that moment to sweep back into the room, the basket in her arms overflowing with skeins of wool.“What?”she asked me bluntly.
“Raider’s Ban wasn’t touched by the plague,” I said, shaking my head a little, trying to imagine how anywhere could be the same as it had been at the start of the winter.
She paused, brows furrowing.“Interesting.That might tip the nation’s power balance.”
My mind went to the cold cellars full of stolen cheese and apples I didn’t want to use for cider.“Their horseflesh is only as valuable as the market is strong,” I said, because it was true.
“The market, the walls, the lines of pikemen, the lances their infantry cut, and the arrows they fletched,” she agreed dryly.As she spoke, a chill went up my spine.
If the rest of the country was as weak as we were…and Raider’s Ban was at full strength…
There were so many unknowns, but that worry melted in with all the others to soak into my already-tight muscles.
Would Darrius take the city and give it to Chay?
I had to push the thought away, because hot on its heels was the next question: what would Chay do with me, given the opportunity?
The tip of my quill had gone dry, so I wet it again and scratched out critical information.Survivors, our status.Mayhap I overshared, telling the Count how weak we were, but if he was at full strength, and truly Chay’s friend, then I could only hope it would be safe.
He’d been safe so far.
I signed it with a flourish that was becoming so familiar I didn’t need to focus on it any longer, then sat there.I should have shown the council.I shouldn’t act myself.Shame curled, dark and hot, in my limbs.I didn’twantto ask the council and do the sensible thing.I wanted to believe in these men Chay loved.
If roles were reversed…
Chay’s sword-belt chimed.I glanced up at the stairs.He’d pulled on his black tabard and looked more or less composed.
“I’ve written what I need,” I told him.“There’s space yet.You can add to it, if you’d like.”
