She jerked her hands free. “What makes you think I could have captured them?”
“Are you telling me you couldn’t?”
His stare would not allow for lies. “No. You’re right. I could have.” She could see the bandits in her mind as clearly as the moment she killed them. A deep fury was stirring. One that she could no longer hide. “I wanted to be the one to do it. I wanted them to suffer. It had to be me. And what’s worse, I don’t feel any guilt over it.”
“Who said you should?”
“My parents, my friends, Lem. Everyone.” She wanted to weep. But no tears would fall. It was as if confronted with her deeds, the concept of regret and guilt had vanished. “But I only feel…”
“Redeemed?”
“Yes! That’s it exactly. I know it’s wrong. I should be agonizing over this. I’ve never killed before. But I can only feel that I was right. It’s as if I cut some diseased part of me away.” She turned her back. “You must think me a vile and wicked person.”
A pair of strong arms slid around her, pulling her in close.
“You are neither vile nor wicked, Mariyah. You are hurt. You have suffered at the hands of evil people. People who stole your freedom. Your pride. Your dignity. Even the one you love.”
In his arms, her emotions came flooding in, and finally tears began to fall. “You can’t know what it’s like; being powerless to protect yourself. Treated with no more mercy and kindness than a beast. You just can’t know.”
“I can, actually. When I was twelve, I was kidnapped by rogues. They held me for months until my father paid the ransom.”
Mariyah reluctantly moved forward, slipping from his embrace, and turned back to see that Landon’s eyes were also swollen with tears. “What did they do to you?”
“Nothing, in the beginning. I was treated well, in fact. They told me I would only be there a few days. That I had nothing to fear. At the time, it felt more like a grand adventure than anything sinister. I played dice with my captors, sang songs. They even gave me wine. But then everything changed. My father sent word that he would not pay the ransom. I found out later that it was my uncle who had convinced him that paying would only endanger my brothers, and that he had people who could rescue me instead. A lie, of course. He already had designs on my inheritance and wanted me out of the way.” He paused to wipe his eyes. “I won’t tell you what they did to me. But by the time I was released, I was no longer a child.”
Mariyah touched his cheek. “I’m so sorry. Did the men who kidnapped you go to prison?”
“No. They were never caught.” He cleared his throat and his smile returned. “So you see? I do understand. At least in a small way.”
Despite his effort to hide it, her own pain was now being reflected back. The urge to comfort him, to protect him, was like a rising tide. Without thought, she found her hands again in his. Inch by inch her body leaned forward, drawn to him by a shared pain that until now she’d thought no one could salve or understand. Her eyes fell into his, driving her inexorably toward him.
“No, Mariyah,” he said, breaking the spell of the moment. “I cannot share your heart with another. And I would not see you regret a moment of weakness.”
A cold chill gripped her chest, and she slid back in the seat, face flushed. If she could, she would have vanished from sight. What was I thinking? “Yes. I … I … Now you must truly think me horrible.”
“It’s all right. Believe me when I say I would love nothing more. But I care for you too much to take advantage of your pain. A moment of bliss is not worth our friendship.”
In an instant, his words made things right again. Her embarrassment faded, and her pain and worry were greatly diminished. She leaned in and gave him a heartfelt embrace, which he returned in full. Again she wept, as if to empty out what remained of the nightmares from her soul. And Landon was pleased to oblige. A friend. Truer than any she could have dared dream to find in this savage world of death and depravity.
When at last she released her hold, Landon’s shoulder was soaked. Mariyah felt weary. Bone weary. “Thank you.”
Landon tilted his head in a slight bow. “It is my honor.” A grin formed. “But let us never speak of this again. After all, I just gave up the chance to be with the highly sought-after and widely coveted Mariyah of Camdon Manor. I’m sure by tomorrow I’ll be hating myself for it.”
“And alas, I have become yet another in a long list of women whom you have rejected.”
This drew laughter that lasted for quite some time, and the world felt normal again. Her heart cleansed. And while Loria would say that Landon could not be trusted, she knew better; she had seen through the man he wanted people to see, and the man he really was had been revealed. A pity she was the only one privileged to know him.
She retired to the back of the carriage, and while Landon drove them toward the next town, she fell into a deep dreamless slumber, secure in the knowledge that she was safe. She still had no guilt over the men she killed. But through the experience, and with Landon’s help, she had faced her pain. And like her fear, had conquered it.
16
WITH FRIENDS LIKE THIS
No crime is greater than betrayal. It is the poison that kills mortal souls.
Book of Kylor, Chapter One, Verse Sixty Four
Mariyah was shaken awake by the jostling of the carriage, the bumps and holes large enough to overcome the magic providing a smooth comfortable ride, which meant they had left the road. She could hear Landon clicking his tongue and calling for the horses to stop.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, poking her head out of the window.
“Nothing to be concerned about,” he called back. “Just stopping for the night.”
The sky was scattered with the first few stars of evening, and the crickets were chirping with an erratic cadence. “I thought we were close enough to reach a town before dark?”
“The road was blocked by a felled tree,” he explained. “I had to find another route.”
Mariyah rubbed her eyes and stretched. She had slept through it all. And was still tired. Just as they halted, she could make out voices and the scent of a campfire wafted in.
Mariyah stepped out, rubbing the stiffness from her back. In a clearing a few yards from the roadside was a wagon and a line of mounts tied to a rail. Six people were sitting around a fire, and several poorly crafted benches and tables were placed on the perimeter. These were merchant campsites that could be found throughout Lamoria along nearly every major thoroughfare. She had first noticed them upon leaving Ubania. Milani had told her that some of the larger sites had small cabins and even a shop where one could purchase basic supplies. This was not such a site. And the four men and two women did not appear to be merchants—their worn leathers and unwashed faces suggested workers or the like.
Landon slipped from the driver’s seat and stretched, his joints cracking and popping from the hours of sitting. “A fine spot, yes?”
“Assuming the company is welcoming,” she replied.
The group was eyeing the newcomers, but made no move to rise. Mariyah took this for a good sign. Still, she remained prepared, with a spell called up in her mind that would be quick and effective should they turn out to be hostile.
Landon removed a pack from the storage compartment at the rear, along with blankets, two bottles of wine, and a basket of rolls, dried fruit, and jerky. As they approached the fire, one of the men, a thin fellow with pale skin and bright green eyes, gestured for the others to make room.
“You’re welcome to share our fire,” he said. “But we have no food to offer, I’m afraid. We’ve just finished what we brought with us.”
“Thank you, friend,” Landon said. “We have our own. And wine to share, if you care for it.”
“That’s kind of you.”
Mariyah thought the man spoke in far too formal a manner for one dressed so shabbily. The other five each gave a polite nod, then returned to their respective conversations.
/> “You two don’t look like the normal travelers who come through here,” remarked the man. “More like a couple of nobles.”
Landon laughed. “Nobles? Us? Since when do nobles drive their own carriages?”
“True enough. Still, you look like an inn might better suit you.”
“We were delayed,” Landon explained, passing over a bottle and picking out a hard roll from the basket. “No time to make it to anywhere decent.”
The man nodded. “Better the stars than a moldy room. Is that it?”
“Precisely.”
“What’s your name?” Mariyah asked.
“Damio,” he replied, giving Mariyah a curious look, as if the question were somehow unexpected. The others were keeping their voices to low whispers, and shooting the newcomers brief, apprehensive glances.
“I’m Mariyah, and this is Landon. Are you all traveling together?”
“Yes. But you must forgive my companions. They’re a bit wary of strangers.”
“I can’t say that I blame them,” Landon remarked, smirking over to Mariyah. “Dangerous folk about.”
“That there are. Traveling in such an expensive carriage, I would have expected guards. Particularly of late.”
“Has something changed?” Landon asked. “This was once a safe passage for travelers.”
“It was,” he affirmed. “But no more. Queen Rasilla no longer sends soldiers to patrol this far from the capital.”
“Odd,” Landon said. “Very odd. So close to the border, you would think she’d want trade protected.”
Damio shrugged. “Who knows the minds of kings and queens?”
“Has no one petitioned her?” Mariyah asked.
This drew an amused smirk. “And how would you go about doing that?”
“Surely the noble houses would be able to speak with her. When trade suffers, so do their coffers.”
“I hear they’re preparing for war,” an older woman in a brown tunic said. She was leaning against the shoulder of a tall, dark-haired man.
Damio huffed. “And last week you heard that the Archbishop was seen in an Ur Minosan tavern.”
The entire group chuckled mockingly.
The woman straightened her back, bristling at the ridicule of her companions. “That’s what I was told. I never said that I saw him myself.”
“Have you seen any preparations for war?” Mariyah asked, her smile an assurance that she was not making sport of her.
“I saw a few soldiers heading to the southern border a month ago.”
“That’s all?” Damio said. “There you have it. Proof that the world is about to burn.”
“They were in wagons, loaded with weapons. At least a dozen of them. You tell me why they’re headed toward Malvoria.”
“That means nothing,” the second woman chipped in. She was a bit younger, though as thick in the arms as the men, and her head was shaved on the left side in the warrior style of the city-state Libel. “They could be selling them.”
“To the Malvorians? Why would they need weapons?”
She was right. Malvoria produced the finest steel in Lamoria—weapons of unparalleled quality. No, thought Mariyah. There had to be another explanation. And she was sure Loria would have heard of a war brewing.
“Please, don’t mind Gara,” Damio said. “She has an overactive imagination.”
“Go bed a pig, Damio,” Gara spat.
Mariyah caught Gara’s attention. “Well, I think there might be something to it.”
Damio and the others burst into gales of laughter. “I knew Gara would find a kindred spirit one day.”
Mariyah noticed Landon’s muscles twitch and his expression darken at the perceived insult.
“I didn’t hear you offer a better explanation,” Mariyah said quickly. “Do you have one?”
“No,” he admitted, through his laughter. “But I would bet all my coin there is one.”
“All three coppers?” Gara taunted, returning to her position against her companion.
Landon rose and at a quick jog went to the back of the wagon, returning with another two bottles and a small flask.
Mariyah caught the scent of whiskey as Landon opened the cap.
Gara sat back up. “Is that for everyone?”
Landon wagged a finger. “This is for me … and Mariyah, of course. The wine is for everyone.”
When Gara folded her arms to sulk, Damio gave her a scathing look. “Mind your manners.” He turned to Landon. “Your generosity is most certainly appreciated. Isn’t it, Gara?”
Landon laughed and handed the flask to Mariyah. “I think I have a bit more.”
He hurried back to the carriage and returned with another flask that he tossed to Gara. “With my compliments.”
Mariyah tipped over to whisper in Landon’s ear. “I don’t like whiskey.”
“I’ll have you know that my grandfather made this,” he whispered back. “Finest in Lamoria. At least, that was his claim. Though in truth, it was his personal attendant who did the actual work. But he did most of the drinking.”
“In that case,” she said, and took a small sip. The expected burn was far milder than she’d experienced on the rare occasions she’d tried whiskey. Mostly it had been when Shemi insisted she join him while Lem was away playing the festivals. The taste, though not as pleasant as a good wine, was not terrible. In fact, the second sip was better than the first. She held the flask out to Landon.
“Can’t stand the stuff,” he said, with a wry grin, and took a long swallow of the wine.
Mariyah poked his ribs hard and snatched the bottle from his lips. Wine slipped down his chin, staining his shirt. “You’ll drink it, or nothing for you.”
“Whiskey and wine,” Gara said, raising the flask. “A dangerous combination. Hope you have a strong stomach.”
“I do not,” Landon said. He held the flask to his nose and jerked his head back. “I beg my lady’s tender mercy.”
Mariyah regarded him like a displeased mother would an unruly child. “You will pay for this,” she said, taking back the flask and this time drinking an entire mouthful.
This brought hoots and whistles of encouragement and approval from the others.
“This one wasn’t raised in a manor, I can tell you that,” Gara said.
Mariyah leaned her head on Landon’s shoulder. “I grew up on a farm.”
Damio lifted an eyebrow. “Truly? You look like nobility to me.”
“Like you’d know a noble if you saw one,” said Gara. “Go ahead. Tell them how you worked for … who was it? Queen Julidar?”
“Of Gath?” Landon asked, incredulously.
“Is there another?” Damio said, scowling. “And I never claimed to have worked for her. I merely saw her from the palace yard when I was a boy. I was delivering fertilizer with my father, and she walked out on the balcony.” He turned back to Gara, his voice raised to near shouting. “Unlike some people, my word can be trusted.”
Gara gave a irreverent snort and took another drink.
“Still,” Landon said. “It is quite a claim.”
“Why?” Mariyah asked. Her head was swimming, so she pressed her hand to the ground to steady herself. She vaguely recalled something about Queen Julidar, but nothing specific. Must be the whiskey, she thought.
“After passing the throne to her granddaughter, she disappeared from public life,” Landon answered, shifting his body so that Mariyah could lie back on his chest. “To my knowledge, no one laid eyes on her again, aside from her family, until her death.”
“Well, I saw her,” Damio insisted. “And so did my father.”
“Then you are truly fortunate,” Landon said. “It’s said the wealth of Gath traveled with her to the afterlife.”
“It went somewhere,” Gara agreed. “Can’t hardly make enough to keep your belly full these days. Even some of the nobles are leaving.”
Mariyah had not heard this either. In fact, the longer she was away from Ubania, the more she came
to understand how isolated she was from the goings-on of the other nations. She thought to ask when the hard times had begun, but could not bring herself to speak. A warm sensation washed through her, beckoning for her to close her eyes.
“Whiskey has gotten the better of your friend.…”
Was that Gara, Damio, or perhaps one of the others? She couldn’t tell. She’d only taken three drinks—surely not enough to have so strong an effect. But as each second passed, the voices grew more distant.
“It’s all right. Sleep now.”
Yes. It’s safe. I’m with Landon. He won’t let anything happen.
* * *
Sweet spirits!
The pounding in Mariyah’s head was made worse by the aching in her back. And her mouth … it was as if someone had stuffed it with cotton.
A flash of light through what presumably was the window and the rumble of wheels told her that she was in the carriage. She peeled open one eye and groaned. The sun was peeking above the trees, striking her in the face.
“Why would he leave the shade up?” she croaked, covering her head with her arms.
A hand reaching out to draw the shades startled her eyes wide. Landon was sitting in the opposite seat, his expression grim.
Mariyah fought through the soreness and pushed herself into a seated position. “Who’s driving the carriage?” He remained silent. “Landon? What’s wrong?”
“I want you to know that I meant every word I said.”
Warnings sent a shiver through her body. “What are you talking about? Where are we?”
“I need your help.”
Landon’s left hand was trembling. Something was desperately wrong.
“Stop the carriage,” she demanded.
Landon reached beneath his seat and produced a bottle of water. “You must be thirsty.”
“Landon, this isn’t amusing. I said, stop the carriage.”
He held out the bottle, but Mariyah slapped it away.
“It’s for the good of everyone. You need to understand this.”
A Chorus of Fire Page 27
