by Tanya Bird
He did not jump to conclusions. Hungry people often spotted campfires and went looking for food. There was no need for anyone to die just yet. But as he reached for his sword, an arrow hissed past his head.
That changed everything.
He swung around, sword ready, and was about to call for Petra to get behind him when he noticed her moving in his peripheral vision. Sliding, actually. Someone had hold of her foot and was dragging her from the shelter. Her eyes snapped open.
‘Leksi,’ she cried.
He caught her arm, and without hesitating, he drove his sword through the dark figure holding her. The man groaned, hands going to his stomach.
Leksi was a reasonable person, unless someone tried to drag a naked woman from his bed.
Wide-eyed, Petra crawled away from the dying man, wrapping herself around Leksi. He held her, but his eyes searched the trees, knowing there would be at least one more armed man.
‘We need to move,’ he said, wrapping her in a blanket and dragging her away from the fire. They came to a stop in the shadows.
‘Stay behind me,’ he whispered, just as a weapon swung towards him. Leksi blocked it with his sword, then drove his blade through the assailant’s thigh. The man screamed, clutching his leg. Leksi assessed the gold uniform before stepping forwards and slicing his throat, pushing the man backwards with his heel so he would bleed out on the ground instead of all over his tunic.
Taking Petra’s hand once more, he led her over to the horse so she would not have to watch the man die. He brought a finger to his lips, listening and waiting. Satisfied there were no more soldiers, he turned to her. ‘Time to go.’
She was holding the blanket to her chest, her breathing shallow and body trembling. ‘Who were they? Soldiers?’
He pulled a dagger from a saddlebag and handed it to her. ‘That’s my guess.’
She stared down at the weapon. ‘Where are you going?’ There was panic in her voice.
He kissed her rosy cheek. ‘I’ll be right back. Don’t move.’
‘Leksi—’
‘Don’t move,’ he said again before rushing off. He checked the corpses for any letters before taking their weapons and the clean tunic off one of the bodies. Then he went to fetch their clothes before returning to Petra.
‘Get dressed,’ he said, taking the dagger from her and handing her her clothes. He threw his shirt on and slipped the gold tunic over the top. ‘There may be more men close by. We need to leave.’
She stared at his gold tunic while fumbling with her clothes. When she was done, he handed the dagger back to her, gathering their things before finally kicking dirt over the fire. Everything went dark.
‘How are you so calm?’ she asked when he returned.
He loaded up the horse, fingers moving quickly over the straps and ropes. ‘Again, years of practice.’ He glanced back at her. Shock was frozen on her face, and her fingers had turned white around the dagger. ‘What have I told you?’
She swallowed, looking up at him. ‘When you are here, I am safe.’ She paused. ‘Though I would feel a lot safer if you were the one holding the dagger right now,’ she added.
He took the weapon from her and mounted his horse.
‘Are you sure about this?’ she asked as he pulled her up behind him. ‘If you come to Corneo with me, you will be directly disobeying Prince Tyron’s orders. I am guessing you have never disobeyed him in your life.’
‘He might disagree with you on that point,’ Leksi said, gathering the reins.
She held on to his waist. ‘But this is different.’
‘This is different,’ he echoed. He turned to look at her. ‘I need you to do exactly as I say from now on. I can’t be worrying about you running off again or doing something reckless.’
She nodded.
‘You have to trust me.’
‘I do trust you,’ she replied without hesitation. ‘I trust you with my life.’
She had a way of stirring emotions he did not even know he had.
‘Let’s go see your son.’
Chapter 21
The moment they crossed into Corneo, Petra felt it. The air was stifling, and the forest seemed void of life. She watched the trees flash past from the safety of the horse, untouchable in Leksi’s presence. It was a dangerous mindset, because one knight did not stand a chance against a king with an entire army at his disposal.
They kept as far north as possible, avoiding the Syrasan-occupied part of Corneo. Leksi did not stop until they reached the edge of the forest, where a normally dry stream held some water after the rainfall. They filled their flasks, washed and let the horse drink. Petra took some food from her bag and they sat down to eat, watching the sun paint the sky in the east.
‘We’re not going to stop again,’ he said. ‘There are only open paddocks between here and Paton. Nowhere to hide. People are very good at spotting foreigners.’
She swallowed her mouthful of apple. ‘Only you are a foreigner. This is my home.’
He tilted his head, a playful expression on his face. ‘All right, Lady Local. Which way is Ituco?’
She looked around, thinking, before finally picking a direction and pointing with confidence. ‘That way.’
‘Incorrect,’ he replied, pointing south. ‘It’s that way.’
She took another bite of her apple. ‘Close enough.’
‘Close enough?’ He leaned back on his hands, his legs stretched out in front of him. ‘How you got as far as you did without me, I have no idea.’
She squinted against the sun. ‘What is the plan when we arrive in Paton?’
He took a long drink of water before replying. ‘It’s best I go in alone and observe for a while.’
‘To see if there are guards watching?’
‘There will be guards close by. King Nilos is no fool.’
Petra offered the apple core to Leksi’s horse. A warm muzzle moved over her hand before returning to the grass. ‘And then… and then you will take me to see him?’
‘If it’s safe.’
‘Leksi—’
‘You said you would do as you’re told.’ He stood and stuffed his flask in the saddlebag. ‘We need to be smart. If he takes you now, he has all the power.’
Petra went to stand next to him, smoothing her hair that was out in a tangled mess down one shoulder. She went to speak, stopped, then tried again. ‘I have to see my son. After that, it does not matter.’
He turned to her, head shaking. ‘You mean it doesn’t matter to you.’
She stared up at him. ‘You know what I mean. The outcome is inevitable.’
‘Doesn’t have to be.’
She reached out and took hold of his arm. ‘You have done so much for me. I am not going to continue to put you at risk.’
‘A little late for that. What do you think will happen to me when I’m brought before your king?’
Her hand fell away. King Nilos would inflict the worst death possible. ‘You are right. Perhaps I should go alone.’
‘No. I’ll take you to see your son, but then you’re going to return with me to Archdale.’ He glanced at her. ‘King Nilos doesn’t get you that easily.’
She placed a hand on the horse’s rump, watching Leksi. So many emotions swam inside her. Words sat on the tip of her tongue, but she said nothing. What could she possibly say that would adequately express her feelings in that moment?
Before she could say anything at all, he mounted and reached down for her. She watched his face as he pulled her up before settling her on the back of the horse once more.
‘I think you underestimate my need to keep you safe,’ he said, a hand resting on her leg. ‘It’s also possible that you have completely ruined me for all future women.’ He paused. ‘Last night was…’
‘I know.’
He looked at her. ‘I really need you to be smart.’
‘I just… I cannot think past Xander right now.’
He nodded, seeming to understand. Digging his heels in, they
headed east.
They rode hard through barren paddocks, seemingly untouched by the rain, where matted sheep stood in huddles, watching them. Leksi stayed off the roads whenever possible. If they happened to pass someone, he would slow right down, smile, and wave. They made good time, reaching the outskirts of Paton before noon.
Petra knew Leksi had planned to leave her somewhere safe while he searched for Xander, but something about the village had clearly given him an uneasy feeling.
‘Best you come with me,’ he said, eyes on their surroundings. ‘I think splitting up is a bad idea.’ He nodded a greeting at an approaching woman walking along the road carrying a basket. She scowled back at him.
‘Not the friendliest village I’ve visited,’ he said.
Petra moved her hands to the back of the saddle. ‘It is probably the tunic. Might be a clever tactic to blend in, but it will not win you many friends.’
They passed a man chopping wood in front of his house. He stopped work in order to better glare at them. Petra gave a small wave, which he did not return.
They gave up on courtesy at that point and just kept their eyes forwards.
A few minutes later, a steeple rose on the horizon in front of them. Petra gripped the saddle a little tighter, but it did nothing to still her trembling hands.
Leksi glanced over his shoulder at her.
‘Are you all right?’
No, she was most definitely not all right. It had been five years since she had laid eyes on Xander. The prospect of seeing him now was making her palms sweat and her breath hitch. ‘Fine.’
Leksi faced forwards again, but he placed one of his hands briefly on her leg before returning it to the hilt of his sword. She reminded herself to breathe, gaze fixed on the steeple.
When the entire church finally came into view, Leksi veered left down a narrow path that led between two houses. Petra rested her forehead on his back for a moment, fighting her urge to jump from the horse and run towards the church.
‘He’s not just going to be sitting on a pew waiting for you,’ Leksi said, as though reading her mind.
‘I know.’
‘It’s important we don’t look lost or do anything that raises suspicions.’
She glanced back at one of the houses and saw a woman peering out of a window at them. ‘I think they are already suspicious.’ She watched the church through the broken fences and leaning houses. The horse eventually veered left, climbing a small hill. They stopped at the top, where they had a clear view of the entrance.
‘We’re going to eat, without staring. Understand?’ Leksi said.
Petra’s eyes returned to him, and she nodded.
Leksi retrieved a blanket and laid it in the shade of an oak while she prepared some food, taking her time laying the items out. They sat with their backs against a wide trunk, facing the church. Petra chewed her food without tasting it, freezing every time a person wandered in or out of the building.
‘There are a lot of men loitering about the church for this time of day.’
‘They’re guards.’
She frowned. ‘Really? They are not in uniform.’
‘No, but they’re armed. Why would peasants be carrying swords in a village this small?’
Petra stared down at her food. ‘Do you think they are guarding Xander?’
‘I think the king is prepared in case you show up.’ He took a drink of water. ‘We can’t go in that church.’
She turned a chunk of bread in her hands. ‘How am I to see him if I cannot search for him?’
He looked at her, his face apologetic. ‘It’s not safe to hang around too long. There are already people watching us.’
She nodded. ‘I know.’ Another glance at the church before looking back at her bread. ‘Perhaps I could go pray before we leave.’
‘No.’
She took another bite, chewed, swallowed, and tried again. ‘Both of us might raise suspicions, but if I were to go in alone, there would be nothing unusual or threatening about that.’
Leksi stared at his boots while he chewed, and his silence only encouraged her.
‘I will be quite safe in God’s house,’ she continued. ‘Safer than I would be waiting up here alone.’
He looked at her. ‘Do you think those men give a shit if you’re in God’s house? King Nilos has the entire kingdom looking for you.’
She blinked, silence stretching between them. ‘It is not as though I would run up and hug the child. I just want to see him.’
He shook his head. ‘You can’t predict how you’ll react.’
She lifted her chin. ‘Perhaps you are forgetting that I am a mentor. Remaining composed under difficult circumstances is a large part of my job.’
He crossed his feet. ‘This is different, and you know it.’
She was about to argue when a small boy wandered out of the church holding a pail. Her gaze snapped to him, fixated as he wandered along the road towards the well in the centre of the village.
‘I think that is him.’ Her words were barely a whisper.
Leksi looked over and watched as an armed man appeared at the entrance of the church, leaning in the doorway, no doubt keeping an eye on the child. The tip of his weapon was visible beneath his tunic.
Petra’s eyes never left the boy. The truth was, she had no idea what her son looked like, but as she studied the frail arms and mess of dark hair, she somehow knew he belonged to her.
With her heart drumming, she leaned forwards and snatched up the flasks. ‘I need to see him up close.’ She shot up and Leksi also stood, grabbing both of her wrists. She looked at him, sure he would tell her no. It’s too risky, he would say. There are guards everywhere. She knew all that.
He leaned closer. ‘If anyone asks, we’re husband and wife. You walk slowly, body language relaxed, arms swinging and head stooped like every other common peasant. Keep the hood of your cloak down, like you have nothing to hide. Understand?’
She released the breath she had been holding and blinked back tears. ‘Thank you.’
He nodded and let go of her. ‘Be smart,’ he whispered.
She sucked in a shaky breath and then turned casually, making her way down the slope towards the road. As she stepped out onto the gravel, her eyes locked on the boy walking ahead of her. She committed everything to memory, just in case. The way his feet turned out slightly, like her brothers’ did. The uneven height of his shoulders because the pail was too large and heavy for his frame. The length of his hair, and the exact shade of brown.
When he arrived at the well, he got straight to work, lowering the rope. The pail would be far too heavy for him by the time it was filled with water; how on earth would he carry it all the way back to the church?
She stopped a short distance from the well, as though waiting her turn, but her eyes did not leave him. She studied his plain clothes and slightly drawn face, until he finally noticed her standing there. Their eyes met, and she knew it was him. It had been five years since she had looked into those dark eyes, but she had not forgotten them.
He stopped, straightened, and her heart seemed to stop beating for a moment.
‘You’re not from here,’ he said.
The sweetest voice she had ever heard, though she had trouble reconciling it with the urgent cries of a newborn baby. She was worried her own voice would fail her. ‘I am just passing through.’
He continued winding the handle as he studied her clothes. ‘Where are you from?’
‘Thovaria,’ she lied.
‘You going to the flag tournament?’
She knew nothing of the tournament. ‘Yes.’
The pail hit the water and he peered over the edge, staring down into the well.
‘Careful,’ she called. When he looked at her, she smiled and added, ‘It is a long way down.’
He waited for the pail to sink below the water’s surface. ‘I pulled a dead bird up once.’
She swallowed. ‘Oh? I wonder why it did not fly up instead of
drowning.’
He began turning the lever in the opposite direction. ‘Father Gabot said it was a reminder from God.’
He was struggling with the weight, so she stepped up to help him, hoping he would not notice her shaking hands. When she was close, she inhaled, certain she would recognise him by scent. How many nights had she slept with his small body tucked into the nooks of her own? Not enough. He smelled of incense. ‘What was God reminding you of?’
He shrugged and leaned down, taking over again. ‘I have to do it myself. Work is part of God’s plan for my redemption.’
She froze, eyes fixed on him. ‘Redemption from what?’
‘The sins of my mother,’ he replied without blinking.
Such a big statement from such a tiny boy.
She sank down beside the well. A mother and her daughter walked past and cast a suspicious look in her direction. She did not have much time.
‘Do you live with your mother?’
He shook his head.
‘Where is she?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘Your father?’
A shrug.
Petra wanted to reach out and touch his face, to feel his skin; instead, she dropped to her knees and reached for the handle once more. ‘Please, let me do that.’ He took a step back, breathing hard from his efforts. ‘Do you live with Father Gabot?’
The boy crinkled his nose. ‘And his wife.’
‘Are they kind to you?’
‘They help a lot of people in the village.’
That had not been what she had asked, but she moved on, aware their time together was coming to an end. The pail came back into sight. ‘Have they taught you to read? To write?’
He shook his head. ‘Father Gabot says the son of a whore has to work harder to get in God’s good graces. He taught me to scrub floors.’
Petra’s heart tore into tiny pieces. ‘You… you clean the church?’
Another nod.
She glanced in the direction of the building, where a man had exited and stood with his hand to his forehead, squinting in their direction. Her time was up.
‘Do you get enough to eat?’ she asked, helping pour the water into his pail.
‘I got to earn it.’
