Juliet McKenna - The Assassin's Edge

“I killed Eresken,” ’Gren piped up.

“We have the lore of the Forest Folk to protect us,” added Sorgrad with a nod in my direction.

Olret barely spared me a glance, all his attention on Sorgrad. If we’d had him at a gaming table, he wouldn’t have walked away with breeches or boots, his emotions showed so plainly on his face. He desperately wanted to accept we could rid him of his hated foe but every pennyweight of sense tipped his scales to disbelief.

“We have come to risk ourselves, not to bring danger to the innocent.” Ryshad spoke with his usual measured courtesy. He’d judged Olret aright, I noted, as the Elietimm betrayed relief at that. “But if Ilkehan were to be distracted, if some feint held his attention as we crossed into his lands, then our chances of success would be greatly increased.”

“Is there not some insult, some predation of Ilkehan’s that you plan on avenging?” Sorgrad asked casually. “We need not know where or how but if we knew when you intended to act, we could make our crossing while Ilkehan was looking in another direction.”

Olret was looking tempted but shook his head abruptly. “Were you captured crossing from my territory to his, Ilkehan would have his excuse to bring death to us all.”

“So we make a dogleg and cross from someone else’s lands.” ’Gren patently didn’t see a difficulty.

“Perhaps.” Olret’s eyes narrowed to give him a rather shifty expression. I guessed there was someone he wouldn’t be sorry to drop into Ilkehan’s line of sight. “Let me think on this. In the meantime, I welcome you as my guests, though I’m afraid we’re too busy to give you much entertainment. The Mother sends her bounties at this season and bids us gather all we can to see us through the grey days of winter. So, ease your travel weariness with a bath and then we shall offer what we can by way of feasting and music. Maedror!”

Olret was talking a little too fast and with rather too much forced friendliness but for the present I’d settle for getting clean and dry and filling my belly. The man with the staff appeared as soon as Olret shouted for him and we dutifully followed him up to the first floor of the keep. The building proved to have a stair on either side joined by a corridor running through the centre, rooms on either side. I was ushered into a snug cubbyhole barely big enough for the bed blanketed with weaving which made best use of all the shades of the local goats. This was presumably to protect my virtue since the others got a larger bedchamber to share. Maidservants scurried hither and thither with ewers of hot water as lackeys hauled in baths. They mostly managed the carefully blank faces of servants interrupted by unexpected guests but one lass betrayed anxious glances at the stairs leading up to the higher levels. I guessed she had duties above that had to be completed, irrespective of other calls on her time. That kind of thing had been one of the many injustices that had set me against a life in service to others.

The bath was bliss. To be warm all the way through again was utter rapture and, as well as scented soaps, someone thoughtful had set a pot of pale salve out on the tiny dresser next to the narrow bed. It soothed the split in my lip and my chapped hands wonderfully. I was rubbing in a second application when a knock sounded on the door.

“Livak?” It was Ryshad.

“Come in.”

He shut the door and leaned against it, smiling with blatant appreciation at my nakedness. Freshly shaven, black hair curling damply around his ears, he wore clean breeches and a shirt which he hadn’t bothered lacing.

“What’s everyone else doing?” I sat up and hugged my knees.

“I drew the lucky rune so Shiv’s only just got his turn in a bath. Sorgrad and ’Gren are arguing over who’s going to wear the one smart doublet they’ve got between them.” Ryshad held out a towel and I stepped into his embrace.

He held me close and kissed me with an urgency that roused my own desire. “Shall I lock the door?”

“There’s no key.” I kissed him back, running my free hand up into his hair. “But I could take care of that.” I let the towel fall disregarded to the floor.

“That might cause comment, if someone tried the door.” Ryshad bent to kiss the base of my neck and I shivered with delicious anticipation as his breath tickled. He cupped my breast and I could tell someone had given him a salve for softening roughened hands as well.

“Stand the dresser by it?” I suggested when I could concentrate again.

“Good idea.” He slapped my rump with gentle approval.

I had the coverlets turned down on the bed before Ryshad had the door blocked and he swept me off my feet with a flurry of kisses, caresses and laughter. I pulled the shirt over his head as he kicked himself free of his breeches and we lost ourselves among the soft woollen blankets. If I’d thought the bath had been ecstasy, I’d been wrong. I didn’t care if Olret had adepts spying on us. All they would have learned was how completely the two of us could become one, when it was just the two of us, open either to other, giving, yielding. No differences of upbringing and experience could come between us, no divergence of attitude or expectation could distance us, no friends or ties of loyalty could pull us apart. Moving in instinctive harmony, every sense alive to touch and kisses, coming together in the ultimate intimacy, I knew beyond question that I loved Ryshad and he loved me. In that simplest of moments, nothing else mattered. We lay entwined, breath slowing, a lazy smile on Ryshad’s face as I brushed curls from his forehead now damp with sweat.

A single apologetic knock sounded softly at the door. “If you’re ready, we’re invited downstairs for more food.”

I smiled at the barely concealed amusement in Sorgrad’s voice. “We’ll be out in a few moments.”

Temar!” Allin waved from the door of the cabin.

“Finally,” breathed Temar. “Excuse me, Master Jevon.”

The Dulse ’s captain looked expectant. “Them pirates on the move?”

“Let’s hope so,” Temar said fervently. He walked briskly up the beach, noting Halice abandoning some animated discussion with the Maelstrom ’s boatswain and heading for the hut. So he wasn’t the only one frustrated by these past few days of tense boredom. Nervousness teased Temar. What would Muredarch’s new challenge be? Would he be a match for it?

“What is it?” After the bright sun outside, he blinked in the gloom of the cabin. It was still stuffy and oppressive even after he had drafted some of Kellarin’s carpenters to cut windows through the walls and hang shutters.

Larissa and Allin flanked Usara who was looking intently at Guinalle.

“Muredarch just set sail in the sloop. He’s coming north.” The demoiselle was pale in the dim light, shadows like bruises beneath her weary eyes. “They brought a prisoner out of the stockade but muffled in a sack. I can’t tell who it is, not with the Elietimm warding the place so closely.”

Temar looked at Usara. “These enchanters aren’t harrying you so much you can’t maintain the blockade?”

“As long as we’re working within direct sight, we’re proof against them,” Usara assured him.

“The winds are still against Muredarch, no matter what direction he might try fleeing in,” said Larissa pertly.

“Those Elietimm only ever work together, which limits their scope.” Contempt enlivened Guinalle’s tone. “If they stray too close, I warn our mages to cease their working.”

Halice frowned. “Which is all very well as long as they stay stupid. What if they start working separately?”