“Uhh…” Jocelyn blinked. “I have to admit I’ve never actually slaughtered and prepared a goat. And I suspect that any goats around here,” she gestured to the farmland to which the hilly crags had recently given way, “belong to people who would resent us eating them.”
“Good point,” said Elddreki thoughtfully. He peered ahead through the fading light. “Is that a town? Perhaps you can purchase some food there?”
Jocelyn followed the dragon’s gaze. “I don’t see anything.”
“It’s there, all the same,” said Elddreki comfortably. “Humans have weak eyesight, that’s all.”
Jocelyn had by now become sufficiently comfortable around her formidable companion to roll her eyes at this slight on her kind, but she didn’t otherwise reply. They walked on for another half an hour, by which time even Jocelyn could see the small town up ahead, despite the fact that twilight had truly set in. They had until now followed the course of the river rather than a road, but up ahead Jocelyn could see a path winding in from the east and curving up to meet the little hamlet.
“Will there be food for you in there, do you think?” Elddreki asked as they approached this path.
“I hope so,” said Jocelyn, as her stomach grumbled on cue. She was pretty sure she was tougher than most princesses. But she had never gone so long without food on an inactive day, let alone one where she had been walking from sunup until sundown.
“Hold on,” said Elddreki suddenly, and looking up Jocelyn saw that he had cocked his head to one side and was wearing a look of great concentration.
“Is something wrong?” she asked nervously, looking around for an approaching figure.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” said Elddreki, sounding absent. “But you go on ahead without me. I’ll meet you back out here once you’ve gotten yourself some food.” And without further warning, he shot up into the air, the accompanying gust of wind so strong that it whipped Jocelyn’s hair and skirts around her.
“But—!” Her startled protest was swallowed up in the darkness. Elddreki was already out of sight. He had disappeared so quickly she hadn’t even seen what direction he took.
Jocelyn turned around, suddenly realizing just how dark it had become. She swallowed, momentarily overwhelmed by her vulnerability, all alone in the night in this unfamiliar kingdom. Then she squared her shoulders and pushed on toward the village, her hunger overcoming her fear.
She walked with a falsely confident step as she passed between the first buildings. It was probably best that Elddreki didn’t go with her, she tried to reason to herself. She was aiming to be inconspicuous, and that would be impossible with a dragon in tow. News of the strange duo would be all over the kingdom within a week if Elddreki showed himself to other humans, even in this sleepy hamlet.
But the further she pressed into the village, the more it became evident that she was anything but inconspicuous. It was clearly an isolated area, and everyone she passed stared unashamedly at the outsider.
Even keeping her head down, she quickly got the measure of the town. Having been raised amid the maneuverings of court, Jocelyn was skilled in observation. Clearly, the people of this village were neither prosperous nor contented. Everyone she passed watched her sharply, and she was disconcerted to see a calculating gleam in many eyes. She had been wrong to think that this hamlet was sleepy. It might be isolated, but it was clearly awake.
Darkness had fully fallen by now, and she knew that there was little likelihood of finding any market stalls open for business. As unpalatable as the idea might be, the only option she could think of was to look for a tavern, in the hope that they might sell food as well as ale. She contemplated asking one of the watching villagers for assistance, but she was deterred as much by her reluctance to speak unnecessarily as by their unfriendly demeanor.
Pausing to listen, she thought she heard sounds of merriment, and she steered toward the source. Her heart pounded uncomfortably in her throat as her steps led her off the main path and down a side street. Maybe she should leave and try again in daylight. But her stomach drove her on.
“You’re a pretty young thing to be out all alone.”
The coarse voice made Jocelyn jump. She hadn’t seen the man lounging in a doorway until she was alongside it.
“Where you goin’, sweetheart?”
Jocelyn quickly looked forward again, intending to hurry past without answering. But the man stepped onto the path and grabbed her arm, moving with a swiftness that belied his previous lazy posture.
“Now, now, don’ be rude, darlin’. Didn’ you hear me ask you a question?”
Jocelyn hesitated for a moment, thinking. “My apologies, sir,” she said in her soft voice, and instantly she saw the man hesitate.
Confusion creased his forehead at the unexpected title, as though he was contemplating whether he was a gentleman after all, and what such a circumstance might mean for his next move. Jocelyn restrained a smile. Good—an easy one to manipulate, then.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she continued. “I was just concerned that my brother will be angry if I’m late.”
The man let go of her arm, stepping back. Jocelyn saw that well-known expression of confusion overtake his features, as her suggestion took root and he tried to decide what to do about it.
She didn’t wait for him to figure it out, hurrying on as soon as he released her. A quick glance back showed that the man wasn’t pursuing her, and she let out a relieved breath. A surge of fear raced belatedly through her at the memory of the man’s uncomfortably strong grip, and the way his eyes had gleamed as he leered at her. But even as she shuddered, she felt a tiny thrill of satisfaction at having successfully extricated herself without assistance.
The tavern was close, judging by the raucous laughter she could hear. Jocelyn had just rounded the last corner, wondering whether they would take Kyonan coins, when she was hit by an unfortunate realization, and her steps faltered.
She had no coins. It was true that she had grabbed her pack during her strange trance, but princesses didn’t travel with coins on them, especially when being escorted by a diplomatic retinue.
She barely restrained a groan as her stomach once again grumbled angrily. What could she barter? She remembered that she was wearing a bracelet. Her heart sank at the thought of forfeiting it—she was very fond of it—but it wasn’t an heirloom, and after all, she had to eat.
She pulled up the sleeve of her gown, examining the delicate silver chain wistfully. She had just reached up her other hand to unclasp it when she was suddenly grabbed from behind. Before she could even shout, a hand was clapped roughly over her mouth, and she felt herself being dragged backward into the shadow of a nearby alleyway.
Fear raced through her frantically. Whoever had seized her kept his hand over her mouth, and she knew her unnatural words would not be able to save her this time.
“That’s a very nice bracelet you have there,” drawled a hoarse voice, and a shudder ran through Jocelyn at how close the man’s mouth was to her ear. “Not at all safe for a pretty young thing like you to be carrying such a valuable trinket around. I’d better take care of it for you, I reckon.”
Jocelyn tried to ignore her racing heart, willing her mind to think clearly. If the man really did just want the bracelet, perhaps she should let him take it without a fight. But something about the possessive way he clutched her gave her a nasty feeling that he wasn’t going to just let her go so easily.
And, she thought, with a spurt of determination in defiance of her fear, if she was going to have to attempt to fight him anyway, she may as well do it straight away, on the slim chance that she could hold on to the bracelet.
The man had wrapped an arm around her, holding one of her arms pinned to her side, but her other arm was free. Jocelyn had been using her free hand to grab fruitlessly at the hand over her mouth, but with her sudden decision, she redirected its efforts, hiking up her skirt in a practiced motion.
The man’s delighted guffaw was
instantly silenced, but not by anything Jocelyn did. She had succeeded in retrieving what she was reaching for, but she almost dropped it in her shock at the sound of a furious voice that was somehow much more familiar than it had any right to be.
“Let her go immediately! How dare you accost a defenseless traveler!”
Chapter Nine
Kincaid must have been twenty years younger than the man he was challenging, but he held himself with a self-assurance that seemed to give extra years to his lean, strong figure, and his voice rang with authority.
He had been glaring at Jocelyn’s attacker with murder in his eyes, but his gaze flicked momentarily to Jocelyn, his eyes traveling quickly up and down her person as though checking she was unharmed. When he took in the dagger now clasped firmly in her free hand, he started visibly, and his eyes flew to hers in a look of astonishment.
The man who still held Jocelyn clasped against him didn’t appear to have noticed her weapon, however, and Kincaid’s lapse in attention apparently gave him new confidence.
“What gives you the right to challenge me, whelp? I saw her first, go find your own wench.” He grinned unpleasantly, revealing several missing teeth. “The bracelet looks like real silver, and this dress should fetch a pretty sum.” He gave Jocelyn a shake, the hand that was still wrapped around her torso tugging suggestively at the fabric of her dress.
Jocelyn narrowed her eyes angrily, dimly aware that Kincaid had let out a growl at the man’s words. She registered the ring of steel only belatedly, as she brought her own already exposed blade around to make contact with the restraining arm still around her middle.
She only slashed the man shallowly, but he still let out a yelp and released her, clutching at the injury. He stared in astonishment from her weapon to her face, his shock quickly giving way to anger as he started toward her.
“Why you little—”
He halted his advance abruptly, a much bigger blade suddenly against his throat.
“What were you saying?” Kincaid’s voice was a deadly purr, reminding Jocelyn of Aunt Scarlett’s stories of the graceful jaguars that haunted her jungle home, always ready to pounce on unwary travelers.
The man stared down at Kincaid’s sword as though hypnotized, looking like he wanted to gulp but didn’t dare with the point so close to his throat.
“I think you should apologize to the lady,” Kincaid was continuing smoothly. “For the insult you’ve offered her.”
The man let out a frustrated growl and spat on the ground. He was evidently reluctant to debase himself to someone he clearly considered should be an easy target.
“If she don’t know no better than to come parading around here in her finery, then it’s her own fault if—”
“Or,” Kincaid interrupted pleasantly, “I could just run you through and leave your body behind that horse shed over there. I doubt anyone would miss you.”
The man struggled with himself for another moment, but he seemed to read in Kincaid’s eyes that the younger man meant what he said.
“I apologize, wench,” he spat at Jocelyn. “My mistake.”
Kincaid’s arm tightened rather than withdrew at the man’s insulting form of address, but Jocelyn wasn’t interested in prolonging the encounter. She just shrugged as she turned away to re-sheath her concealed dagger. Then she went silently to stand beside Kincaid, content to let him continue to do the talking.
Her heart had leaped strangely at the handsome Valorian’s timely arrival—in a manner that a niggling voice in the back of her mind told her was not entirely explained by her relief at being rescued—but it had sunk right back down at the realization that she once again had to watch her words.
“Get out of my sight, then,” Kincaid was dismissing the local man, his expression still hard. He watched the man slink away into the shadows, then turned to Jocelyn.
“Jocelyn,” he started, then paused, suddenly hesitant. “Are you all right?”
Jocelyn nodded, but an involuntary shudder ran over her at the sudden memory of the man’s hand over her mouth. She could still feel its pressure, and the foul taste of his skin lingered on her lips. At the movement, Kincaid took an impulsive step toward her, but stopped abruptly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” he said quickly, and she frowned up at him in confusion. How had he gotten here at all? But of course she didn’t ask.
“Come on,” said Kincaid, seeming more thrown by her continued silence than he had been in any of their interactions in Montego. “We should get out of here. That man might come back with some friends.”
He turned to go, but Jocelyn didn’t move, looking longingly toward the nearby tavern. Her hunger had been momentarily forgotten during the recent crisis, but it was reasserting itself with a vengeance now that things had settled down.
“Jocelyn?” Kincaid repeated, seeing that she wasn’t following him. “What is it? Surely you don’t want to stay here.” He looked around uneasily. “Why did you come here, anyway?”
Jocelyn sighed. Unless she wanted to start miming—and she had no desire to make such a fool of herself—she would have to speak.
“To buy food.”
“Oh,” said Kincaid, his expression clearing slightly. But following her gaze he took in the tavern, and his forehead instantly creased again. “You were going to try to buy some in there?”
Jocelyn nodded. Seeing Kincaid’s alarm, she felt an inexplicable need to justify her actions.
“I knew it was dangerous, but I’ve been walking all day, and in all that time I haven’t seen anywhere else that might sell food.”
Kincaid’s face softened at her words. “You’re hungry,” he said. “Starving, I’m guessing.”
Jocelyn restrained a sigh. She hadn’t intended him to know how desperate her situation was, but of course the suggestion behind her words had come through more powerfully than the simple statement she had articulated. Kincaid might have shown his responses to it to be unexpected, but he wasn’t immune to her strange ability.
“And I know you’ve been walking all day,” Kincaid continued, with a dry chuckle. “So have I. And I’m hungry too.” He looked at her in silence for a moment, his concern evident. “But this is not a good place for you to be. Don’t you know where you are?”
“Uh…Valoria?”
“Yes, Valoria,” said Kincaid, with a touch of impatience. “One of the most dangerous parts of Valoria. Haven’t you heard of the North Wilds?”
Jocelyn shook her head, and Kincaid sighed.
“Well, that’s where we are, and it’s not the safest place for lonely travelers to explore.”
“Evidently,” said Jocelyn. She grimaced, and again found herself trying to justify her actions before she even realized she had decided to speak. “I was foolish, I suppose. I should have waited until I was inside to take off my bracelet. That man must have seen it.”
“You were going to barter that?” asked Kincaid, gesturing with his head at the bracelet Jocelyn had been fingering while she spoke. His eyes were wide with alarm again, and Jocelyn felt more foolish than ever. “That would have ended badly,” said Kincaid firmly. He glanced around. “In fact, you should hide it now.”
Jocelyn pulled her sleeve over her wrist nervously. “But I really do have to get some food,” she said. “And I don’t have any coins—Kyonan or Valorian.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Kincaid quickly. “I have coins, Valorian ones. I’ll buy us some food.”
“But—” Jocelyn went pink. “You shouldn’t have to pay for my food.”
“Nonsense,” said Kincaid dismissively. He flashed her a sudden cheerful grin, which she had to admit to herself was irresistible. “Truth be told, I’m starving myself. I’ll buy something, and we can share it.”
Jocelyn wavered for only a moment before giving a curt nod.
Kincaid gave her a searching look, and she felt her cheeks go pink again under his scrutiny. She was certain she must look as disheveled as she felt, and it
was somehow both impressive and maddening that Kincaid didn’t.
He had the rough look of someone who had been traveling, certainly. But although he claimed to be starving himself, he was just as tall and strong and alert as ever. She had thought about him more than once since leaving Montego, but she had forgotten just how handsome he was. Or perhaps he had been made more attractive by her gratitude at his intervention.
“Well, then,” said Kincaid at last. “I suppose we’d better get it over with.”
Jocelyn came out of her thoughts with a start, embarrassed by how long she had been staring at him.
“Stay close,” Kincaid muttered as they passed through the doorway, and Jocelyn was only too happy to comply.
The tavern was small, as she had expected from the size of the hamlet. But it was the rowdiest and dirtiest place she had ever been. Unless her estimation of the population of the village was way off, almost every man who lived there seemed to be gathered in the dingy room. And despite how early in the evening it was, more than half of them were already fully intoxicated.
Jocelyn made no attempt to involve herself in the bartering for their food. She just stood nearby while Kincaid argued with the man behind the bar, watching the crowd warily. As volatile as the situation clearly was, Jocelyn couldn’t help but feel a spark of interest as she took in the crowded room. As a princess, her life was necessarily sheltered, and the unfamiliar setting was fascinating.
It wasn’t long before she realized that she was being watched with every bit as much interest as she was watching those around her. Many pairs of eyes had followed the newcomers on their path from the door to the bar, and it was clear that Jocelyn was much more conspicuous than Kincaid. She suspected this would have been the case even without her expensive clothes, since the only other women in the tavern were the serving maids.
Jocelyn’s heart went out to these girls as she watched them, taking in how they were dressed, and the way the men interacted with them. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live her life in such conditions. She felt a twinge of guilt as she remembered all the times she had complained about her father’s restrictive rules. She had thought him overprotective, but she felt a surge of gratitude at the reminder that not every girl had someone so dedicated to keeping her safe.
Legacy of the Curse Page 10