“How old were you?” Syn frowned, studying his face. He might be a few years older than her, but not that much, she didn’t think.
“Ten.”
Her jaw dropped. “Ten?” she demanded. Shock recoiled through her and she sat upright, staring down at him with horror.
“Yes.”
“Exactly how does a ten-year-old get hurt that badly with a knife?” But even as she voiced the question, she realized she could imagine just how. “Well, maybe that’s not a good question. Kids very often run around carrying things they shouldn’t.”
Xan’s mouth twitched in a smile. “It happened during a training session.”
“Training session.” Syn narrowed her eyes as something cold and hard settled inside her belly. “You were ten. You shouldn’t have been training with knives.”
He sat up and settled behind her, drawing her stiff body against his. He stroked a soothing hand up and down her thigh as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “And how old were you when you started serving in this army, Syn? You were orphaned at age ten . . . What did you do after you lost your mother?”
“I sure as hell didn’t start training with knives.” Tears stung her eyes, and she turned her head, pressing her lips to his cheek. Under her mouth, she felt one of the narrow lines of his scarred face. Shifting around on his lap, she slipped her fingers under the strap, slowly. She waited for him to pull away, but he sat there passively as she eased the patch away.
The scarring was much neater than she’d expected; most of it was one long, thin line that bisected his eye, starting at the outer edge of his eyebrow down to the bridge of his nose. The lid to his eye was closed, permanently—and unless she was mistaken, they’d stitched it.
“They stitched it closed,” she murmured. She could just barely make out the faint lines where the stitches had been placed. “Did they actually use old-fashioned stitches? Why not las-sutures?”
His lips twitched, that small smile she saw from him so rarely. “I was but a child when it happened, Syn. I barely remember anything other than the injury itself. It became infected, and there was a fever. After the fever came on me, I don’t remember much of anything until I woke up one day and the eye was gone.”
She scowled. For all its surgical neatness, it seemed borderline barbaric. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his eye, running her mouth along the scars and then easing the patch back into place. “Why do you wear the patch? The scarring is actually rather minimal.”
“Yes. I’ve just always worn it. A child tends to shy away from any unusual attention—I guess it just became habit.” He ran a finger along the narrow, raised ridge still visible around the patch and shrugged. “People stare, with or without the patch. But the patch makes them more comfortable than the actual scarring would.”
“And you’re really all that concerned about people being comfortable?” Syn asked, smirking.
“I couldn’t care less if people are comfortable.” He flashed her a grin—a real smile, there and then gone. Reaching up, he tapped her nose and added, “But I prefer not to be bothered when the insanely curious see the scars and ask what happened.”
She arched a brow. “Am I being insanely curious?” “Perhaps.” He reached up and curled a hand over the back of her neck, drawing her in for a kiss. “But you may ask me anything.”
There was a hard, perfunctory knock at the door. Syn grimaced and kicked her legs out of the bed. Grabbing a tunic from the foot of the bed, she tugged it on and crossed to the door. She peeked through the small viewing hole and then shot Xan a disgruntled look. He remained silent as she spoke through the door. “Yes, Commander?”
“Get your ass out here and in my quarters. You have ten minutes.” There were a few seconds of silence and then he added, “And bring Xan with you—it will save me the trouble of pretending to look for him when I already know where he is.”
Syn made a face at the door and listened to the faint sound of his footfalls as he walked away. Then she turned and met Xan’s gaze. “He may decide to tear into you for being here. He’s still pissed off at me . . . You might end up catching some of it now.”
Xan shrugged. “I can handle it. I heard the order go out and I chose to ignore it.” He stood from the bed and grabbed his clothes. “Although I don’t have time to go to my dormer and grab anything but the clothes I wore yesterday.”
“Not an issue. If we’re lucky, all he’ll do is assign us to latrine duty for the next few days, and trust me, you don’t want to mess with clean clothes on that job rotation.”
Xan’s face twisted with disgust. “I’ll take your word on it.”
“You’re probably going to end up in trouble.” Syn sighed and flicked her hair back from her face. “I’m sorry.”
He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Do not be. There is nowhere else I would rather be, I promise you.”
Syn felt the blood rush to her cheeks and her heart fluttered. Forcing a smile, she said, “Let’s hope you don’t regret those words.”
They weren’t alone in Kalen’s quarters.
Elina and Lee were also there. Elina sat on one of the narrow, hard-backed seats. She must still feel lousy—Syn had seen the goose egg covered by her hair. There was no way the woman couldn’t have a massive headache.
But she looked serene—completely undisturbed. It came from years of practice and Syn had already put on her mask as well. She’d be damned if she let anybody see how tangled she felt inside. Never show weakness—it was a lesson she’d learned early in life, and one she adhered to.
Lee hadn’t quite perfected the art of hiding her every emotion. She stood there, leaning against a wall and looking miserably unhappy. She was pale, dark circles under her eyes, and her mouth was a tight, narrow line. She glanced at Xan and then at Syn. “If he’s here for moral support, I gotta say, I’m impressed, Syn. I love you, but there ain’t no way I’d be here if I didn’t have to be.”
Xan stroked a hand down Syn’s shoulder. From the corner of her eye, she could see him smile. “He’s here at the commander’s orders,” Syn said, shrugging.
Lee cocked a brow and studied Xan curiously. “Oh?”
“Apparently breaking orders is contagious,” he said. “After word went out that you three had been confined to quarters, I ignored it and went to see Syn.”
“Moral support?”
“Hardly.” Syn snorted and glared at Xan. “He came to yell at me. I’m getting very tired of males yelling at me over this when they can’t really even understand what it’s like for us.” She softened the words with a light brush of her fingertips down his cheek.
He caught her hand and kissed it.
Aware of the curious gazes from her friends, she battled down the urge to blush through sheer will alone. Facing Elina, she cocked her head and studied the other witch. “You look like you’re feeling well enough.”
“My head hurts like a bitch,” Elina said, a cool smile curling her lips.
“I bet.” Glancing around the dormer that served as living quarters and office for the commander and his wife, she said, “Where is his lordship?”
Lee sneered. “Out lording it over his obedient subjects. Jackass.”
Under the heavy sarcasm, Syn heard the hurt. Closing the distance between them, she caught Lee’s hand and squeezed. “Bad?”
“Bad enough,” she said softly, her voice husky. “I didn’t get any sleep. He stayed away all night.”
The door opened and all four of them turned to look, expecting to see the commander.
It was Vena Saurell. She looked at Syn, a devious smile on her pretty face. “Hello, Captain.”
Lee pushed Syn and narrowed her eyes, glaring at the other woman. “Excuse me, but who in the hell are you, and why are you in my quarters?”
“Why, the commander requested my presence, Lea.” She widened her eyes dramatically, staring at Lee innocently.
“It’s Lee.” With a brittle smile, she said, “If the commander requested yo
ur presence, so be it. But this is a private dormer and you aren’t welcome in my home without knocking. Get your ass out. Now. When Kalen is here, you can come in.”
With a pretty frown, Vena said, “I am very sorry if I’ve offended you, Lee. I realize it must be hard sharing your husband’s attention with . . . others.”
The innuendo was unmistakable.
If Lee hadn’t been so tired, so miserable, Syn doubted Vena’s comments would have had any impact at all. As it was, though, her summery blue eyes darkened with doubt, with hurt. Syn opened her mouth to say something—anything—but Vena had already seen the look on Lee’s face, and a smug light appeared in her eyes.
“If the commander was sharing his attentions with a camp tramp, then he wouldn’t be worth grieving over,” Xan said, his voice cold and harsh, much like the look on his face as he stared at Vena. His voice softened as he shifted his gaze to Lee. “But the commander isn’t a foolish man—he’s got more sense, and more taste, than that. I know it, and likely so does every soul who’s ever had any contact with him.”
Syn could have kissed him. And she would, later. But right now, she was enjoying the look on Vena’s face too much.
“Excuse me?” Vena glared at Xan, her face red, her hands clenched into fists at her side.
“I’m quite certain you heard me,” Xan said levelly. “I do not know why the commander requested your presence, but I’m very certain he’d be less than pleased if he knew you were here insulting his wife.”
Finally breaking free from her silence, Lee shoved away from the wall and stalked to stand between Vena and the rest of the room. She gave Xan a quick glance and said, “The commander’s wife does have a name. And while she appreciates it, she’s also capable of handling this particular camp tramp on her own.”
Vena glared at Lee. “You call me a tramp? You fucking slut, you whored your way into his bed. You whored your way right up through the ranks; everybody knows that.”
“Do they?” Lee grinned. “I must be good if I convinced a die-hard soldier to marry me, just because I’m good in bed. Must suck for you—did you come here with that plan in mind?”
“You’re leading him around by his dick.” Vena’s voice shook with her fury. “There’s no other reason he would have married the bastard daughter of a Warlord.”
“You’re so certain of that?” Lee pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Okay, I take it back. I’m not good. I’m fucking amazing.”
“Yes.” Kalen’s voice came from the doorway. “You are amazing. There is no doubt about that.”
Lee started visibly, but Syn had known he was coming, and once more, she had to admit, the man had excellent timing. He’d heard Vena’s comments. The woman was up to something, and while she suspected Kalen was too clever to fall for any tricks she might have, Syn felt better knowing the man had seen her for what she was.
Recovering, Lee inclined her head and said coolly, “Good morning, Commander. I hope you slept well.”
“No, you don’t.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “But don’t worry, I didn’t sleep any better than you.”
Lee’s eyes narrowed. “Good.”
He came inside, ignoring Vena, ignoring everybody but his wife. He stopped in front of her and laid his hand on her cheek. The look that passed between them was one too intimate for words, too intimate to be shared with others. Wistful envy curled through Syn, and she found herself staring at Xan. And he was returning her look.
Kalen dipped his head and pressed his brow to Lee’s. For a moment, they just stood like that.
Then Lee eased back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going to apologize, Kalen.” She glanced at Elina, then Syn, before looking back at her husband. “We can’t keep going on like this . . . It’s destroying us inside.”
To Syn’s surprise, he nodded. “I know.” He reached out and brushed a hand down her arm. “We’ll work through it.”
Then he strode to his desk and settled behind it. Settling once more into his position as commander, he studied Vena Saurell.
“When you have several thousand people living in one place, you’re going to have your share of troublemakers.” He had a bored tone to his voice, a bored look in his eyes. He studied Vena as though she had about as much significance to him as a gnat. “You’re not the first troublemaker here; you won’t be the last.”
She flushed, but in a fairly steady voice, she said, “I apologize, Commander; however, I’m not sure why you would think I’m trying to cause trouble.”
“Because you are.” He glanced at his wife and then at the other women in the room before once more meeting Vena’s gaze. “Now . . . you’re here because you told me you had concerns about Captain Caar and Xan. Would you care to explain those concerns? In front of them?”
Her eyes flashed, hot and bright. Her mouth tightened. Then her features smoothed out. “I prefer to discuss any personal concerns I have in private.”
“Too fucking bad.” His face impassive, he said, “I haven’t the time or the inclination to listen to personal concerns. If there’s a matter that can affect my camp, my men, those under Caar’s leadership, speak—have the guts to lay your concerns out before those involved. But if it’s personal, don’t waste my time.”
“I don’t feel a person can fairly lead when she’s screwing one of her subordinates.”
“Oh, puh-leeze.” Lee snorted. She shoved off the wall and moved to stand in front of Vena. “While I don’t really consider myself one of Kalen’s subordinates, he is in charge and he screws me on a regular basis. Are you questioning his ability to lead?”
“You aren’t an active member of his army.”
Lee widened her eyes. “I’m not? Then what am I?”
“His wife,” Vena said, her mouth twisting in a sneer. She spat it out like she’d just taken her first sip of insian tea.
“Really? Just his wife?” Lee glanced at Kalen and then back at Vena. “Wow. Then can somebody explain why in the hell I’m routinely dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour, why I have to take my turn doing the damn job rotations, why I’m dragged to weapons training, why I get sent out on—”
Kalen interrupted, “Lee, I think she gets the point.”
“Everybody knows she’s not a real fighter in this army,” Vena said. She wouldn’t look at him. She stared straight at the wall over his shoulder.
Somehow Syn suspected this meeting wasn’t going exactly as Vena had planned. But that didn’t surprise her. Vena hadn’t ever struck her as somebody who’d fight fair in the open—she’d come at somebody’s back, while doing everything she could to avoid a head-on confrontation.
“What I find massively entertaining is this . . . ‘everybody knows . . .’ crap,” Elina said. She lounged on the hard, ladder-backed chair like it was a silk-covered throne. She wore her fighting gear with ease and elegance. Ease and elegance . . . it described Elina from the top of her head down to her feet. She studied her nails, as though she couldn’t be bothered to look at Vena as she spoke. “If everybody knows, as Saurell here implies, then why does Lee regularly have people either ordering her about or coming to her with concerns? More important, if she’s not a real fighter—that would imply she has no use here other than warming the commander’s bed.”
Now she looked up, pinning Vena with an icy, green stare. “But if she has no other use than that, then I’m curious . . . who destroyed the Gate?”
Confusion danced across Vena’s face. It was echoed in Xan’s. Syn said quietly, “Vena, do you know what happened in Sojourn Gap?”
“The Gate collapsed.”
“It didn’t collapse,” Kalen said and for once, he looked at Vena with real emotion. The look in his eyes was one of utter disgust, complete disdain. “Lee leveled it.”
Lee flushed as she became the object of Vena’s disbelieving stare and Xan’s intent interest. Jerking a shoulder in a shrug, she said, “I didn’t exactly level it, and if it wasn’t for Morne, I probably would have killed us
all. It was blind luck.”
“No. It was instinct, and it was a damned good one,” Elina said, rolling her eyes. She came out of her chair and closed the distance between herself and her niece. She gave the younger woman a light pat on the shoulder. “Modesty is nice, honey. Really, it is. But you did a good thing. You saved a lot of lives. Deal with it.”
Then she turned and looked at Vena, eying her with more than a little irritation. “Commander, as fascinating as this is, I thought you’d called us in here to rail at us more, not to have a little gossip session with this twit. Am I wrong?”
“Oh, I definitely plan on railing,” Kalen said darkly. “But since it was word from Saurell that informed me of the plan the three of you hatched, and since she’s also been muttering to various individuals about her ‘concerns’ regarding Syn and one of her subordinates, I decided it would be more effective to clear the air.”
“Word from Saurell?” Syn echoed. She narrowed her eyes and focused on the other woman. Lee, Elina and Syn had met to discuss their plans only once—in Syn’s quarters. Elina shared her grandmother’s old dormer with a medic. The medic, the young woman who’d showed up in camp the same day as Xan, had a promising healing touch, and Elina was teaching her some of the potions and brews she’d learned from her grandmother, Eira. Since Lee shared her dormer with her husband, their best bet at privacy had been in Syn’s quarters.
They’d discussed it there. Only there. And only once.
“You little bitch,” Syn said, utterly disgusted. “You’ve been spying on me.” And doing a damn good job of it—Syn hadn’t once detected the presence of another, and it wasn’t likely Lee or Elina had, either, because they would have mentioned it. It wasn’t that easy to spy on a witch—hell, at one time, Syn would have said it was almost impossible to eavesdrop on a witch, but that was back when they’d still had full use of their magic.
Vena didn’t bother denying it. She said nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Looking back at the commander, Syn said, “Commander, respectfully, I want this woman out of my unit. If you have no concerns with that, I’ll talk to Bron and see if he can find a place for her. I don’t want her near me or my men.”
Veil of Shadows Page 13
