Читать книгу Orphan's Blade - Aubrie Dionne - Страница 11

Flight

Nathaniel rounded the corner of the apothecary’s shop with a lantern in his hand. The silver rays of the quarter moon barely penetrated the shadows. He knelt down and raised the lantern above the cobblestone. A single drop of blood speckled the amber rock. He touched it with his finger. The blood was cold, but not entirely dry.

Seems the boy had some acting skills. He wasn’t as near to death as he’d led Nathaniel to believe.

Nathaniel checked the area and found another drop on a storage crate in the alley out back. The bloodied path continued through the empty gin kegs behind the Wild Boar Tavern and stopped at the back door. Unlike most of the village, this tavern stayed open through the dark hours of the night.

A perfect place to hide.

Nathaniel came around the front, not wanting to raise suspicions. Two men stood by the door, chewing black root. They were farmers from the countryside, probably stopping by to drop off their goods and have a drink before the journey back tomorrow. They straightened as he approached, and he waved them back. “At ease.”

“A strange place for a lieutenant on duty.” The younger of the two men called after him with a teasing tone.

Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder. “We are all on duty every heartbeat of our lives.”

The inside of the tavern glowed with golden light from three giant hanging lanterns and a roaring fire in the back. Several men sat at the bar, and most of the tables were taken. Loud conversations provided a din of cheers and shouts.

Barmaids pushed through the crowd with trays of ale, bowls of some sort of thick, brown stew and loaves of bread. No one looked any younger than twenty summers, and nowhere did he see a head of red hair.

Timber sat in the corner by the fire, spooning the thick stew in his mouth and looking off into the distance as if reliving an epic battle from years past. Nathaniel edged his way across the room and sat in the empty chair across from him.

“Seen anything out of the ordinary tonight?”

Timber raised his gray brow in surprise. “I cannot remember the last time I saw you in a tavern, never mind the Wild Boar.”

Nathaniel leaned forward and broke off the end of the loaf on the table. “Necessity dictates my actions.”

“Well, if you’ve come to speak to an old man like me, you are truly desperate.” He raised his mug and drained the last sip. “No one seeks my council these days.”

“Am I no one?” Nathaniel smiled. If King Rubystone had survived the battle at Sill, he’d have sought Timber’s council until his dying day. Bronford Thoridian was too proud to ask, and Brax followed in his father’s footsteps. Perhaps a good old chase would console Timber. Nathaniel pulled his chair closer and lowered his voice. “I need your help. A certain young raider has gone missing, and the trail leads here.”

Timber’s gaze changed from dreamy to alert as he scanned the room. “You don’t say?”

Nathaniel nodded. A barmaid asked him if he wanted anything and he waved her away.

“You should order a drink to keep up appearances, in the least, sir.”

“I do not intend to be here long.”

“That table over there has been here for quite a while.” Timber pointed to a rowdy bunch of young men by the bar. “And that man over there has a friend who hasn’t moved all night. He shields his face with his arm.” Like any great warrior, Timber had been keenly aware of his surroundings and who was in them even though he didn’t show it.

Nathaniel shook his head. “Too burly.” A hooded figure sitting alone in the far corner caught his eye. The man’s frame was slight, his shoulders narrow like a boy who hadn’t completely grown into his own. He gripped his right arm over his stomach, as if nursing a wound. “But over there…”

Nathaniel nodded in his direction, and Timber took the cue, placing his empty bowl on the table by the fire. Together, they approached the lone figure.

Heads turned as they grew closer. Nathaniel placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He’d rather not draw it out in front of civilians, but he’d wield it if he had to. The figure turned in their direction, revealing a pale cheek, a red curl, and a fearful blue eye. The boy leapt from his seat and startled a barmaid. Her tray toppled, ale glasses breaking on the floor. The boy pushed a man aside and ran toward the door.

“Make way!” Nathaniel shouted. Everyone cleared his path. He bolted toward the door and followed the boy into the darkness.

* * * *

Servants cleared the third course from the table as the first couples took to the dance floor. Unfortunately, it was venison stew, another plate Valoria couldn’t stomach. All she’d had to eat was a roll and a lettuce leaf garnishing the chicken wings of the second course.

“Your minstrels play well.” Brax mentioned it as though they’d trained their whole lives to play background music at a feast.

“They do much more than entertain. Are we going to dance?” She’d rather know now and prepare for it, like a soldier going to war.

“Most certainly not.” Brax drank another cup of ale so strong, the fumes made Valoria dizzy. He’d eaten every bit of food in front of him and some of hers. At least she was good for something—second helpings. “I do not dance. It is a fruitless activity. I’d rather save my energy for training.”

Relief came over her. “How could I not guess?”

He raised an eyebrow as if he wondered if she teased him.

Valoria hid her face behind her glass of wine. “If we do not dance, then what do we do at these events besides eat?”

He stood, and for a moment she thought he would change his mind and offer his hand. “I consult with my generals about our future war plans and I try to earn more allies for the kingdom’s cause.”

“How diligent.”

“We all must be diligent in times like these.” Brax regarded her as if she were some silly party princess. “If you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to.”

The king and queen glanced at Brax with surprise and disappointment, but he ignored them and crossed the room, joining a group of soldiers in the back. The queen turned to Valoria with an apologetic face, but she glanced away, not wanting her pity.

She couldn’t make Brax love her any more than they could. And she didn’t want to.

Frustration brewed inside her. Would she be resigned to watch every night while other couples danced and laughed for all the years of her life? Valoria threw her napkin on the table and stood. She’d rather play with the court musicians. At least then she’d be useful.

The queen called her name, but she pretended not to hear, leaving the table and walking along the side of the room. Where had Nathaniel disappeared to? For a moment, she’d thought he was on her side. But, he could never really be on her side completely. That was Brax’s duty.

Two doors opened to a balcony overlooking the courtyard. Valoria breathed the fresh air with relief, closing the door behind her. The glass muted the din of the party, but it could not mute the sore ache in her chest.

She walked to the edge and placed her hands on the cold stone railing. The cobblestone streets of Ebonvale spread out before her. The city was three times the size of her minstrel village. Gabled roofs of inns, taverns, and shops cluttered the horizon in a complicated jumble.

So many people called Ebonvale their home. Was it her duty to protect them? As strong and noble as the Royal Guard was, it had been the minstrel’s song that stilled the wyverns so the warriors could get close enough to deliver the fatal blow. When the next threat arose, would it take both sides once again to defeat it? Would only her and Brax’s union ensure the safety of these people and her own?

Maybe Brax was right. Maybe Ebonvale didn’t need the minstrels after all. A lot of time had passed between the last war with the wyverns, and the fire worms had yet to return. It would be a convenient truth.

The door opened behind her, and the queen stepped onto the balcony. The wind threw up her honey-blond hair. She wore a sumptuous gown, but her body moved like a warrior’s. The soft fabric could not conceal the sinewy muscles in her arms, or the fierceness in her eyes. She was gorgeous, and for a moment Valoria understood why her father could not take his heart back. But, her mother had had a soft kindness the queen lacked. In Valoria’s esteem, gentleness counted more than beauty.

“Forgive me, am I intruding?”

Valoria bowed her head. “No, your majesty. I needed fresh air.”

“As do I.” Queen Thoridian joined her, standing on the balcony’s edge and gazing at the city below with certainty and pride. “These dinners can be tiresome.”

Valoria glanced away, afraid the queen would see the repulsion on her face. “I am thankful for your kindness.”

“It is I who should thank you.” The sincerity in her tone made Valoria snap her gaze back on her.

Queen Thoridian pursed her lips. In the moonlight, her pearls shone like underwater treasures. Valoria had heard a tale sung about the Sapphire Isles, where a king had tricked a mermaid and stolen the five pearls of wisdom. Were they the same?

The queen turned toward her. “You know of the history between your father and me?”

Anxiety crept up Valoria’s spine. At her home, this subject was taboo. “He does not speak often of it, but I am aware of your broken betrothal.”

Queen Thoridian nodded, and a sad reluctance settled in her sharp features. “I highly regard him. He is a great and noble man and he treated me well—better than I deserved. But, I did not love him. You see, I am very much like my mother before me even though it pains me to admit it.” She shrugged as if she could do nothing about it. “My heart rules my mind. I loved Bron—I still do—more than anything in the world. There is no shame in that. But because of my choice, the future of both kingdoms falls to you, and to Brax.”

Great pressure fell on Valoria’s shoulders. She struggled to breathe. Her chin trembled as she struggled to hold her tears back. Uniting the kingdoms by marrying Brax seemed so impossible. “I do not think he cares for me.”

“Brax is a noble man, but it takes time to win his regard. Once you do, he’ll love you more deeply than anyone else could. If you have any of the virtues of your father—some of which I’ve already seen in you—then, in time, he will.”

The queen moved toward her and took Valoria’s hands in her own. Her meadow-green eyes pleaded. “It is unfair of me—of anyone—to ask you to choose against your heart. But, who knows what threats lurk on the horizon, and how much of an alliance our kingdoms truly have? Do me this one favor. Be patient. Give Brax time.”

Words would not come. Valoria stood frozen with the queen squeezing the blood from her hands. She asked so much of her. But, Danika Thoridian wouldn’t have come out and spoken so honestly if she didn’t think the cause was worthy. Valoria’s own father had asked the same of her since she could talk. Could she disregard all of their hopes after one dinner party?

Valoria nodded slowly. “I’ll try.”

The queen laughed desperately. “Thank Helena and Horred.” She smoothed back Valoria’s hair. “You are such a darling child. Your father must be proud.”

“I want to make him proud.” Valoria smiled, thinking of his long face, his graying hair, and his silver eyes. “He’s spoken of me coming here every day of my life.”

“I’m sure he has.” She glanced away as if the thought of Valoria’s father talking about Ebonvale every day seemed unsettling. “Come, let me find your handmaiden. I will bore you no longer with this dinner feast. You deserve some rest.”

A little stunned, Valoria allowed the queen to lead her back into the room. She kept to her word, and summoned Cadence from the servants’ dining room downstairs. Cadence met them at the door with a smile on her face.

“I trust the dinner was successful.” Cadence took Valoria’s arm as the queen paced back to her table, velvet gown trailing behind her.

“As successful as it could be with a man who ‘does not dance’ because ’tis ‘a fruitless activity.’” Valoria smiled ironically.

“Hush!” Cadence glanced around in case someone overheard. “Leave your spitfire tongue to your room.”

Having Cadence call her a spitfire was quite the compliment to end the night. Valoria pulled Cadence forward. “Shall we embark before my tongue gets the better of me?”

Cadence gave her a stern look. “We shall.”

Valoria moved past one of the servants she’d seen waiting on Nathaniel’s table. “Wait.” She broke free of Cadence’s arm and approached him. “Excuse me.”

“Yes, my lady.” He looked like a mouse caught in a wyvern’s claws.

Valoria smiled to ease his anxiety. “Do you know where Lieutenant Blueborough ran off to?”

He blinked in surprise and then bowed his head. “No, my lady. He left suddenly. I hadn’t even brought him his second course.”

Cadence gave her a hard stare. Valoria waved her hand. “No matter. I had a trivial question about something in my room.”

The servant cleared his throat. “Can I help you, my lady?”

“No, no, no.” Valoria stepped back as if he’d catch her in a trap. “’Tis not important.”

She pulled Cadence away and they retreated down the corridor. He hadn’t even finished his second course. Something must have gone terribly wrong. She wished she knew what it was. He’d been so kind to her, and she longed to repay the favor.

Once they were alone, Cadence shook her head. “You shouldn’t be asking about the lieutenant, my lady.”

Valoria laughed, but it came out brittle and forced. “It was just a matter with my room. That’s all.”

Cadence furrowed her skinny brow. “I saw the way he looked at you back at the battle, when he was helping Echo into the carriage.”

Valoria stopped in the middle of the hallway by a painting of King Thoridian atop a white charger. “Why? How did he look?”

Cadence clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Like you were the Goddess Helena herself, stepped from the Holy Temple in the sky.”