by Tanya Bird
Hugon greeted a few people as he passed them. It reminded her of her childhood. Villages were enormous families in many ways, yet she realised with sadness that she would be long forgotten in those parts now.
A few minutes later, the cart turned off the main road, and the sound of bleating sheep and children faded. When they finally came to a stop, Petra lay still, listening.
‘Up you get,’ Hugon said, jumping down onto the road.
Petra broke through the straw and sat up, pins and needles in every limb. Hugon walked around the back of the cart, waiting for her. She gave her cramping neck a stretch as she looked around. They were not at a house, just pulled up on the side of the road. She turned to him, frowning.
‘Where are we?’
‘Just west of Chelia.’ He gave her an apologetic look. ‘This is as far as I can take you. If I’m caught—’
‘I understand,’ she said, crawling over the top of the straw to him. He took her by the arm and helped her down.
‘You got somewhere to go?’ he asked.
She nodded.
Pointing behind her, he said, ‘There’s a well behind those trees. Usually has water.’
She squinted in that direction. It had been a long time since she had drawn water from a well. ‘Thank you.’
He cleared his throat, not moving.
‘Oh,’ she said, looking down at her necklace. She unclasped it and dropped it into his hand.
He nodded his thanks, then turned and walked back to the front of the cart. Climbing up into the seat, he picked up the reins. ‘If you get caught—’
‘You will not be implicated in any way.’
Another nod. ‘Good luck,’ he called over his shoulder. Then with a click of his tongue, the cart lurched forwards.
Taking in her unfamiliar surroundings, Petra felt a sudden surge of panic. ‘Which way is north?’ she called to his back.
He raised a hand, pointing. She looked out over the bare paddocks, knowing she would need to keep an eye on the sun to prevent getting lost. She knew Wripis was north-west from Chelia. She also knew she would never be able to walk that distance before nightfall.
A breeze blew from the north and she shuddered. It was tempting to fall apart, to just collapse in a heap on the side of the road and wait to be found by someone, probably King Nilos’s men. How long could he really stay angry at her? She had ways of earning his forgiveness. Instead, her eyes went in the direction of the well. Drawing a long breath, she headed for water.
Chapter 3
Prince Tyron’s voice reached him through the thick canvas. ‘Leksi, get out here.’
The knight leapt from his cot and snatched up the dress that lay in a pile on the ground, tossing it to the woman in his bed before grabbing his own clothes. She was lying on her stomach wearing nothing but a coy smile.
‘Get dressed,’ Leksi pleaded.
‘Leksi!’ The prince was losing patience.
God dammit. There was a reason he had not entered—he knew.
Lord Belen’s eldest daughter stretched luxuriously, making no effort to cover up. One look at her flushed cheeks would confirm the prince’s suspicions.
‘I will need my underthings if I am to return to the house and face my father.’ Her smile was mischievous.
He looked around, trying to recall where he might have flung them earlier. She had just shown up, unannounced, coming into his tent without an invitation. All right, without a recent invitation. He had promised the prince he would stay away. What was he supposed to do when a woman showed up wearing nothing beneath her dress?
He stopped searching and narrowed his eyes at the girl. ‘You weren’t wearing any undergarments.’
She laughed, thoroughly enjoying herself.
‘Leksi,’ Tyron called.
He had really done it this time. ‘One moment.’ He fell to his knees beside the bed. ‘Please get dressed.’
She leaned in to kiss him. ‘Can I visit again tomorrow?’
He glanced at the entrance to the tent. ‘Absolutely not.’
She pouted. ‘What do you mean, “absolutely not”?’
He reached down and tapped her bare bottom. ‘There is a good chance I won’t be alive tomorrow thanks to you.’
She reluctantly sat up and slipped her dress over her head while Leksi straightened his clothes. He smoothed down his hair, which she had been clutching with both hands for the previous two hours, and slipped through the flap of the tent wearing his most relaxed expression.
Tyron stood with his arms crossed in front of him, wearing royal attire and a scowl. Leksi closed the distance between them.
‘You off, then?’ he asked, trying to sound casual.
Tyron looked past him to the tent. ‘Lord Belen is going to cut your throat in your sleep when he finds out.’
Leksi took a few steps, hoping Tyron would follow. ‘No idea what you’re talking about.’
The prince shook his head, feet anchored. ‘I must leave. Unfortunately, that means you are in charge until I return.’
Leksi feigned offence. ‘What do you mean unfortunately? I say lucky men.’
The flap of the tent went back and Lord Belen’s daughter strode out. The neat braid she had arrived with had dissolved into a mess of curls that hung about her face and neck. She had that unmistakable satisfied glow he had come to recognise in women over the years.
‘You couldn’t wait five minutes?’ he said between closed teeth.
She winked at him. ‘Until tomorrow, Sir Leksi.’ She stepped past the men and walked off down the path that divided two rows of tents.
Leksi closed his eyes, feeling Tyron’s disapproving stare on him.
‘What is happening tomorrow?’ the prince asked.
Leksi opened his eyes. ‘To be clear, I said no to tomorrow.’
‘But yes to today?’
Leksi rubbed at the stubble on his face. ‘Actually, I said no, initially.’
Tyron shook his head and began walking. ‘How did that go?’
Falling into step with him, Leksi’s gaze went to the swaying hips a few yards ahead of them. ‘Not great, as you’ve probably figured out. She was rather persuasive.’
Their feet slushed on the worn path that wound through the canvas-covered lawn. Clusters of men sat on upturned crates playing dice, standing to attention when the men passed.
‘Just try to behave while we’re gone,’ Tyron said, not looking at him. ‘Time spent with my family is stressful enough without worrying about what is happening here.’
They passed a roped-off behourd where six men trained with axes.
‘I hear Queen Cora is making the journey,’ Leksi said once they were past the noise.
‘Any excuse to escape her husband.’
‘Don’t blame her.’ A man approached from the other direction carrying a pig carcass on a hook. He moved off the path and waited for them to pass. ‘The whole family, together again.’
‘Not the whole family.’ Tyron nodded at the man. ‘Stamitos and Sapphira remain in Galen.’
‘Still? Probably having the time of their lives. Nothing but vineyard tours and tournaments.’
Another shake of the head. ‘Something like that.’
As they emerged from the maze of tents, Leksi spotted the royal wagon. Tyron’s squire stood beside it, holding the prince’s horse. Mako stuck his head through the door and called to Leksi. ‘You coming with us?’
Princess Aldara leaned forwards to grab hold of him to prevent him falling out of the carriage.
Leksi smiled. ‘Not this time. Someone has to keep West Corneo secure while your father takes his leisure trips.’
Tyron took the reins from his squire. ‘I should have offered to go to Galen in Stamitos’s place.’
‘Ignore him,’ Aldara said, wrestling Mako back into the wagon. Princess Zelia sat comfortably in her lap, watching her brother in awe. ‘He is in a mood.’ She gave Leksi a knowing smile.
Tyron mounted his horse and gathered the re
ins. ‘A month with Pandarus has that effect on me.’
‘On most people,’ Leksi added.
Aldara’s gaze travelled past him to the woman climbing the path back up to the large house, then returned to him. ‘He finally caught you, then?’
‘You knew?’ Tyron asked, riding up beside the window.
‘I suspected. There is a difference.’
‘Can I ride with you, Father?’ Mako asked, bursting through the window again and startling the horse.
‘It’s safer in there with your mother,’ Tyron replied.
Aldara laughed. ‘Hardly. His sister likes to get a good handful of his hair and never let go.’
Leksi opened the wagon door. ‘Come on,’ he said, holding his hands out to the boy. Mako leapt into his arms, fearless as always. ‘Up you go.’ He handed Mako to his father.
Tyron settled the boy in front of him, then looked at Leksi. ‘Behave yourself, and keep hold of the West. That is all I ask.’
‘Is that all?’ Leksi stepped back to let the horse pass. ‘Have you forgotten that you promised me an actual house?’
‘Have you forgotten that you promised to keep your hands to yourself?’ Tyron called over his shoulder.
Leksi shook his head and turned to Aldara, bowing. ‘Give my regards to the family.’
‘Keep well, Sir Leksi,’ she said with a knowing smile.
He winked at her. ‘My lady.’
The driver flicked the reins and the wagon rolled away. Leksi remained where he was, watching the family and their entourage of mounted guards until they were swallowed up by the trees that lined the west side of the manor.
‘There you are, sir.’ Leksi turned to see Charis running towards him, out of breath. ‘Did Prince Tyron find you?’
Leksi crossed his arms and glared at his squire. ‘He sure did.’ In his fifteenth year, Charis was far from the sharpest lad Leksi had ever trained. ‘Next time, you come and tell me he is looking for me.’
‘I was going to, but you had company, and when I informed the prince of the fact, he insisted on going himself.’
Leksi rolled his eyes. ‘Well, I could have done with the warning.’ He stepped past the confused boy. ‘Fetch my horse, would you?’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Boundary check.’
Charis turned and ran to catch up to him. ‘Do you need some men to escort you?’
‘You can come if you want.’
The boy’s chest expanded to twice its usual size. ‘Yes, sir.’ He took off at a jog towards the yards where the horses were kept.
It was mid-morning by the time they reached the western boundary. Their horses plodded slowly between the trees while Charis told a story Leksi could not follow. He was fond of the boy, but he had learned very early on to shut out the incessant noise that came from him.
A low fog lingered, typical for that time of year, when the cold season hung on too long for everyone’s liking.
‘What’s that?’ Charis asked, stopping his horse.
Leksi sighed and looked to where his squire was pointing, expecting to see a spotted mushroom or a large frog. The boy had the mind of a child at times. Instead, he saw a pile of pale green fabric on the forest floor. He pulled up his horse, peering through the fog.
‘What is that?’ Charis asked again, leaning sideways on his horse to get a better look.
Leksi brought a finger to his mouth and listened. He was not one to step into traps. Some might take the bait and immediately rush over to investigate, but he would ensure they were alone first.
‘I think it’s a body,’ Charis said loudly.
Leksi turned to him. ‘For the love of god, boy, shut up.’ He turned back and listened. Nothing but the buzz of insects and creaking of trees. He signalled for Charis to keep watch, then drew his sword, dismounted and approached what indeed looked like a body. Keeping an eye on his surroundings, he listened for the crack of a twig or shuffle of hooves. Silence.
His gaze returned to the body at his feet, and he was surprised to discover a woman curled into a tight ball. Blue lips were visible through the hair covering her face. Probably dead. He crouched, still holding his sword, and checked for a pulse. She twitched as his warm fingers touched her neck. She was alive, but cold.
‘Dead?’ Charis called to him.
Leksi shook his head. He would have to remind the boy later about the meaning of quiet.
He searched the trees around him one more time before turning his full attention to the woman. She was filthy, covered in blood and mud. At least, he assumed it was mud; it smelled more like manure. His gaze landed on her jewelled hand, and he reached out and kneaded the fabric of her dress between his fingers. Over the years he had acquired the ability to categorise a woman within a few moments, and her dress was of high quality. She was not common.
Leaves crunched behind him, and he swung his body, sword raised. Charis froze, hands up in a gesture of surrender.
‘You are supposed to be keeping watch,’ Leksi said, turning back to the woman.
The squire peered over his shoulder. ‘Is she breathing?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sleeping, then?’
Leksi pushed the brown hair from her face, his fingertips brushing her soft skin. She was definitely the indoor type. He watched as her eyelids fluttered. ‘Miss,’ he said, loud enough to wake her properly.
Her eyes snapped open and she turned her head with a small gasp. Blazing amber eyes stared up at him. She went to speak but swallowed instead. He pulled her up into a seated position, preparing to interrogate her.
‘What is your name?’ he asked.
Her eyes went to the red S on the sleeve of his tunic before answering. ‘Petra,’ she said. Her voice was hoarse, and she was shivering.
Leksi hesitated before putting his sword away and removing his tunic. She studied him as he wrapped it around her shoulders, equally as suspicious.
‘What are you doing out here half-dressed in these temperatures?’ he asked.
‘I got a little lost in the dark.’
Even in her current state, she sat with a straight back and hands folded in her lap. She was definitely of the privileged variety. She also had a very distinct Corneon accent.
Leksi looked around. ‘So then, my next question is, which way were you walking?’
She lifted her chin. ‘West.’
He nodded. ‘I see.’
‘What do you see?’ Charis asked. The art of subtle conversation was lost on him.
Leksi glanced down at her wrists, noticing faint bruises beneath the bloodstains. ‘You running from someone?’
She followed his line of sight, then pushed the sleeves of her dress farther down her arms. ‘Actually, I am looking for someone.’
Leksi studied her. ‘Who would that be?’
‘Princess Aldara.’
She was searching his face, no doubt watching for his reaction to that name. He gave nothing away. ‘Why?’
Her confidence seemed to falter. She looked past him to the boy, as though hesitant to speak in front of him. ‘Because… because she is the only person who might be able to help me.’
As Leksi processed the information, it dawned on him why the name seemed familiar. ‘You’re the mentor.’ She looked taken aback by the fact that he knew of her, but then her shoulders fell as she relaxed a little. ‘You let them escape.’
‘A wise move, it turns out.’
He shook his head. ‘I imagine your king is looking for you.’
She shuddered. ‘Probably.’
‘Definitely. You’re the muse, the one who ruined him for all future Companions.’ He stood and linked his hands on top of his head, stepping away to think for a moment. Petra pulled the cloak tighter around her as she watched him. ‘What am I supposed to do with you now?’
Charis stepped up to Leksi and, speaking in a very loud whisper, said, ‘Send her back. If King Nilos gets word that we have her, he’ll send an army.’
That was
the sensible thing to do, given he was in charge, but he also knew Aldara would likely frown on him tossing her back over the border and wiping his hands of the mess. Though as far as he was aware, they had promised to help track her son, not provide her a safe house if she was crazy enough to escape.
He turned to her, staring at her dress. ‘Are you injured?’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Did you kill someone?’
Her face collapsed. ‘No.’
He sighed. ‘When was the last time you ate? Had something to drink?’
‘Yesterday morning.’
He continued to watch her as he thought. He could take her back to the manor discreetly, then send a messenger to Tyron and let him make the decision. He could hardly leave her out in the woods. ‘Can you stand?’
She nodded and tried to get to her feet. Seeing that she was struggling, he stepped forwards to help her.
‘I am fine,’ she insisted.
He immediately let go of her but stayed close until he was sure she was steady. ‘You’re not fine. You’re in desperate need of a bath.’ He thought she might blush, but she just looked up at him, then away.
Leksi took the reins of his horse from Charis and mounted. When he reached out for her, she took a few hurried steps back. Straightening, he rested his hands on the pommel of his saddle. ‘You planning on walking to the manor?’
She hesitated before stepping closer to the horse. Again, he leaned down and offered his hand, and she stared at it for a moment.
‘You never told me your name.’
Charis cleared his throat. ‘That is Sir Leksi. Syrasan’s most skilled knight.’
The mentor did not appear the least bit impressed by the revelation. ‘Of course, Prince Tyron’s right-hand man.’
‘I see you’ve heard of me also.’ He gestured for her to come closer. She hesitated before taking his hand, and he pulled her onto the horse as though she weighed nothing. She held his shirt and stared nervously down at the ground. ‘You all right?’
