The Complete Marked Series Box Set

by March McCarron

  Adearre nodded solemnly.

  “Well,” Yarrow asked, smiling with feigned humor, “have I passed your test?”

  “No.”

  It was not Adearre who spoke, but Bray. Yarrow’s insides froze, as if he’d been plunged into frigid water. He was tempted to ask her to elaborate, but he did not think he could bear to hear whatever negative opinion of him she had formed. The knowledge was crushing enough without further elucidation.

  He assumed his most apathetic expression and shrugged at her, as if unconcerned, then opened his book again. He felt her spike of anger, but he did not look up. They continued on for another hour in silence.

  Peer pulled them to a halt so they could attend to the necessary. Bray and Adearre climbed out of the carriage immediately. Yarrow took the opportunity to kick Ko-Jin in the ankle. His friend hissed.

  “You’re no help at all,” Yarrow said. “It’s been like an inquisition in here.”

  Ko-Jin smiled and nodded, suddenly alert. “Better you than me, mate. And to think I once had a crush on that girl! No, I’ll continue to ‘sleep,’ thank you very much.” He closed his eyes again.

  Yarrow snorted and hopped down from the carriage, in search of an accommodating bush.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dusk encroached upon them as they stopped in a clearing at the base of a great hill. Gnats hummed in Bray’s ears as she leaned over her Dalish map. She traced her finger along their route, feeling the rough parchment.

  “We can keep riding through dark and stay at the inn in Clanton,” she said at last. “Or make camp here.”

  “Clanton—swore I’d never stay in that dung heap again,” Peer said.

  Adearre looked up into the cloudless twilight sky. “The weather is sound.”

  “Agreed.” Bray folded the map and returned it to her bag.

  The matter settled, Peer, Adearre, and Bray set about the familiar tasks of making camp.

  She turned to where Yarrow and Ko-Jin stood. “Collect fire wood.”

  Bray worried how the Cosanta would respond to her first order. Neither man looked terribly pleased by her tone, but they merely nodded and moved towards the nearest wooded area.

  Bray, alone with her two usual companions once again, felt some of the tightness leave her shoulders.

  “How were they?” Peer asked, as he fastened the feed bag to the nearest horse.

  Bray waited for Adearre to answer. She’d been dying to know what he thought of Yarrow’s assertions.

  “Ko-Jin pretended to sleep most of the day,” Adearre said, his eyes following the backs of the two men. “Yarrow insisted again that he believes marked children are being killed. He is either the best liar I have ever encountered, or he is in earnest.”

  The idea of Yarrow Lamhart as an accomplished liar was completely incongruous with her memory of him. She had to remind herself, for the umpteenth time that day, that her memory of him was irrelevant.

  “I think perhaps,” Adearre said, “we should act as though we trust them.”

  Bray nodded slowly. “Yes, it will be easier to find them out if they don’t believe we’re suspicious.”

  “Thus far,” Adearre said, “there is nothing to be suspicious of.”

  “Except that they’re Cosanta.” Peer looked at Adearre as if he’d gone daft. “Which is more than enough on its own, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Bray laughed in agreement and Adearre bit his lip.

  “You know I like the Cosanta no more than the two of you,” he said. “But that does not make them guilty of a crime.”

  Their conversation was perforce ended by the return of the two gentlemen in question. In addition to arms full of timber, Ko-Jin had two fat rabbit carcasses dangling from his belt.

  “Dinner,” he said, holding them up to her. He looked pleased with himself, but her frown deepened as she took the creatures.

  “We have provisions.” She inspected the precise wounds in the beasts. Was his aim to demonstrate his skill with a knife?

  “Fresh meat is always better,” he said, taking them back and setting to skin them.

  Peer built up the fire, and in no time the night air was full of the crackling of dripping grease and the aroma of charred meat. Bray refused any of the rabbit, and rather chewed on the dried meat they were meant to be eating. Her jaw creaked with the effort.

  The uncomfortable atmosphere of the day had abated. Ko-Jin recounted to the group at large a humorous story of how he had accidentally offended the warriors of the Adourran flatlands by killing and eating several desert hares—an animal apparently highly prized and honored in that region. Peer and Adearre laughed raucously, along with Yarrow, and Bray glowered at the lot of them.

  Peer must have noticed her expression; he came to sit by her and put his arm around her shoulder. He took a bite from a rabbit leg, his lips gleaming with grease in the firelight. “Why so glum?” he asked softly, through a mouthful of meat.

  She shoved him. “Not an hour ago they were culpable for being Cosanta. They offer you a little meat, and now you’re all best mates? Bloody men…”

  Peer gnawed on the bone and discarded it. “We decided to pretend to trust them, remember?”

  Oh, right… “Does that mean we have to be so chummy?” she grumbled.

  Ko-Jin stood and climbed to the roof of the carriage, to his trunk. He extracted two swords. Bray’s body stiffened with readiness for an attack, until he came back into the light and it became clear that they were merely wasters.

  Ko-Jin nudged his seated friend with a foot. “Come on, I need a workout.”

  He tossed one of the wooden swords in Yarrow’s lap.

  “You know full well I don’t pose enough of a challenge to qualify—”

  “I’ll work with what I’ve got. Up you get.”

  Bray watched as Yarrow, with obvious reluctance, followed his friend several paces from the fire. He did not hold the weapon with much confidence, nor wield it with particular skill for a Chisanta. Bray and her companions were all significantly superior swordsmen. Ko-Jin, however, moved with incredible speed and agility, making swordplay look more a dance than a sport. It was mesmerizing to watch. His braid bounced and his robes swooshed, but his face was almost bored as he pushed Yarrow further and further into the clearing, stopping every now and again to give his friend instruction and encouragement.

  Bray wanted to join them, longed for a bit of physical exertion to chase away the stresses of the day. She and her companions frequently ended their days by sparring as well.

  “Should I get our wasters?” Peer asked, his gaze directed as hers was.

  Bray nodded. She and Adearre approached the Cosanta while Peer extracted their own practice weapons from the carriage.

  Yarrow noticed them and paused; he wiped sweat from his ruddy face.

  “Have you come to join us?” Ko-Jin smiled devilishly. “I’ve never sparred a Chiona before.”

  Bray’s fist clenched tight around the smooth bamboo hilt in her hand. He mocked them.

  “We should be happy to educate you, then,” she said through clenched teeth.

  His eyebrows shot up and his mouth turned up at the corner; he bowed his head to her with sardonic reverence. “How shall we pair up?”

  Yarrow made to back away, heading towards the glowing embers of their cook fire. Bray stopped him with an upraised hand. Perhaps it was callous, but she wanted him to know, without reservation, that any one of them could physically subdue him.

  “Adearre is wounded. He will sit out.”

  Adearre made as if to protest, but Bray cut him off. “I’m sure he will be able to offer excellent criticism. He has a good eye,” she said to appease him. And it was true—she hoped Adearre would spot weaknesses. She wanted to find the Cosanta’s soft spots, just in case this tenuous marriage came to blows.

  Bray stepped forward to face Ko-Jin, and Peer moved to oppose Yarrow.

  She cleared her mind, breathing in the night breeze, perfumed with heather and s
moke. Ko-Jin whipped his waster about in several blinding circles, the bamboo slicing the air like the switch of a crop. His features became smooth and emotionless. She decided not to use her gift, no matter how much she’d like to. He didn’t know what she could do yet, and she didn’t want to reveal her advantage over a mere sparring match. No, she would have to meet him equally.

  They circled each other, weapons held ready. A gust of wind tugged at Ko-Jin’s braid, but his eyes remained locked on her with predatory intensity.

  And then he struck, lunging with such speed she barely had time to raise her own weapon in defense. She felt his wooden blade tap her side, and though he had moved with dizzying swiftness, the strike itself was gentle. She seethed as he stepped back to start a new round. To best her so immediately, while still holding back enough to soften the blow, suggested both extreme skill and a kind of mocking sportsmanship. She would have preferred the bruise.

  They readied again, and she was determined to strike first this time. She lunged and he parried effortlessly. He attacked and she blocked. He twisted and struck her squarely on the backside, though again the blow was soft as a friendly pat.

  Her face heated with anger and embarrassment. His eyes crinkled in amusement.

  They went again. He won.

  In the fourth round she thought that she had him, but he twisted out of her way and caught her in the shoulder, ever so gently. By this time she was on fire with frustration and humiliation. Spirits be blighted, she thought. Forget holding back. I’ll wipe that smug smile off his face.

  She was preparing for their fifth round when she was distracted by Peer’s shout: “Strike, blight you!”

  She turned, and so did Ko-Jin, to watch. Peer was red-faced, his eyes wild and his nostrils flared. He struck out at his opponent with vicious force, but Yarrow danced away and Peer had to pull up short. ‘Danced’ was the best word Bray could summon, because the dodge looked like a stance straight from the Cosanta meditative movements.

  “They are still on their first round.” Adearre came to Bray’s side. “Yarrow has yet to make any offensive move.”

  Peer attacked again, swinging his waster down so that it would strike Yarrow full in the head. Again, Yarrow turned out of the way and sent Peer off balance.

  “Come, Yarrow,” Ko-Jin said. “End it.”

  Yarrow paused, clearly interpreting Ko-Jin’s statement as a desire to end the bout in a draw. Peer, however, did not. He gripped his waster in both hands, muscles bulging against the seams of his linen shirt, and lifted the weapon high up over his right shoulder. He swung down with all of his considerable strength, slicing sideways as if Yarrow were a tree he aimed to fell. The sharp thud of the wooden blade catching Yarrow full in the side hung sickeningly in the air. He sunk to his knees, a pained breath drawn in through his teeth.

  Peer dropped his weapon, panting and sweaty-faced. A bird cawed in the night.

  Ko-Jin strode towards Peer, his face a perfect mask though his eyes blazed with anger. “Do the Chiona always strike to wound during a mere sparring match?” he asked coolly.

  Bray thought of how carefully Ko-Jin had struck her and an uncomfortable heaviness settled onto her chest. Not only because Peer had dishonored himself, but because she had come close to doing the same.

  Peer shifted his weight from foot to foot and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly at a loss for words.

  “This was a mistake,” Bray said at last. Ko-Jin turned on her and she nearly quailed under the intensity of his expression. “It was foolish to think we could spar together.”

  “Yes.” Ko-Jin helped Yarrow back to his feet. “It was foolish of me to assume that the Chiona had even basic honor. You were right, I have been educated. We will not spar again. Know that if we ever fight in the future, I too will aim to injure.”

  Yarrow’s jaw was tight but he gestured to Ko-Jin that he could stand on his own. The two of them walked away, making a camp apart from where the Chiona would sleep. Bray’s teeth clenched and her stomach forced itself into a hard ball. How dare he insult her people’s honor over one honest mistake. Any amicability that had been attained over dinner was now clearly at an end. The Cosanta kept their backs to them.

  “I know,” Peer said through clenched teeth. “You don’t need to be giving me that look, Adearre. I don’t feel good about it. But, blight the man, he wouldn’t fight back. It was insulting! As if he couldn’t be bothered to actually strike me, just dance around like a bleeding leaf in the wind. I lost my head.”

  Adearre gave Peer a frown that Bray knew only too well—a look of raw disappointment reserved for moral failings. Bray clapped Peer on the shoulder sympathetically. “What’s done is done. It’s not as if we were to be fast friends anyway. Let’s get some sleep.”

  Bray wrapped herself in a thick wool blanket and lay down close to Peer’s back. The warmth he radiated was usually more consistent than a fire. His deep steady breaths suggested that he had fallen asleep instantly—he must not feel that badly. She stared up at the night sky and listened to the buzzing of the cicadas, willing her mind to ease into thoughtlessness.

  She heard Adearre stir on the other side of Peer and watched the shadow of him cross to where the Cosanta had made camp.

  “I have some pain medication,” she heard him whisper.

  “It isn’t so bad,” Yarrow’s voice returned.

  There was an awkward pause.

  “I will leave it for you, in case you change your mind.”

  Adearre’s footfall had half returned to his own blankets before Yarrow whispered after him, “Thank you.”

  Their carriage trundled into Greystone two days later—and a remarkably quiet, tense two days they had been. The sky was overcast, and with the many chimneys pumping out smoke, Yarrow’s eyes seemed out of focus. The fumes tickled at the back of his throat and he coughed, sending a sharp pain up his side. There was no internal damage, just a large, spectacularly-hued bruise, but Spirits did it smart. He kept his face carefully schooled to hide the pain. The ramifications of the incident had been keenly felt by all of them—and Yarrow hadn’t even wanted to spar in the first place!

  Greystone was far from a large city, but it was by far the largest Yarrow had ever visited. The streets stretched to seeming infinity, loud and crowded. The air tasted dirty and smelt of—well, he would prefer not to think of it. The buildings pressed tightly together, most many stories high. As they rounded a corner his eyes lingered on a barefoot, filthy-faced little girl with a basket of flowers for sale. She brandished an already wilting bud pleadingly at the steady stream of aloof passersby.

  They came to a stop before an inn, the King’s Repose, and Yarrow followed the others out of the carriage and into the drive. A stableboy hurried up to take their horses, and Adearre thanked the lad by name.

  They strode up the stair and through the main door. The inn itself was simple but clean. It was perfumed with the aroma of freshly baked bread and wood polish.

  The innkeeper, a portly red-faced man, came forward. He gave Peer and Adearre jovial handshakes and offered Bray a deep bow. Ko-Jin and Yarrow each received shallower, but still polite, bows of their own. “Thought you lot’d been here long since. How many rooms?”

  Bray extracted her wallet. “Three.”

  The innkeeper waved her money away indignantly, selected three keys from hooks behind the front desk, and led the way up the stairs. “Nasty business it’s been. People was real fond of them Parrons round these parts.”

  He unlocked and opened three thick, oaken doors revealing moderate-sized rooms overlooking the parkway.

  “They’re saying it was lightning, but by the Spirits above, I wasn’t hearing no lightning and there wasn’t a drop of rain. I’ve been going over it with the lads, and not a one of them saw no storm.”

  “It was late at night,” Bray said, her tone turning business-like. “Is it possible you slept through it?”

  “Aye,” the portly man said. “I suppose it is. But Jimmis Dareen was
working a night shift at the Greystone’s Finest Pub, not two blocks from the Parron’s place, and he swears up and down he didn’t see no rain nor no lightning neither.”

  “Thank you, Lorren,” Bray said, taking the keys from the innkeeper and passing them out. “I can promise, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “I’ll send a boy to let Arns know you’ve arrived, shall I?”

  “Yes, that would be most helpful,” Bray said. “And might we have the use of the private dining room?”

  “Certainly, Ms. Marron.”

  Lorren the innkeeper bowed and departed. Two serving boys brought their trunks and, with Peer’s direction, deposited them into their proper rooms.

  After so many days of travel, Yarrow was eager to see the crime scene and begin the investigation. He had done some reading on the signs of arson on the boat ride from Chasku to Daland and looked forward to applying the new information rattling about in his head.

  They processed back down the stairwell into the empty common room. Yarrow strode towards the front door, but the Chiona hung back, taking seats.

  “What are we waiting for?” Yarrow asked Bray. He realized that this question was the first time he had directly spoken to her in…he wasn’t sure how long.

  Bray gave him a cool, surveying look. “The constable. He’ll take us to the crime scene and share his findings thus far.”

  Yarrow nodded and moved towards a chair, but Bray stayed his step by saying, “However, you will not go near the crime scene.”

  “Excuse me?” Yarrow asked, thinking he must have misheard or misunderstood her. Of course he must see the crime scene—that was the whole point of this entire ill-begotten venture!

  “I forbid either of you to set foot near the crime scene.”

  Peer crossed his arms and assumed a smug expression; Adearre averted his eyes.

  “Forbid?” Yarrow repeated softly. He glanced at Ko-Jin, who kept his face carefully composed.

  “Yes.” Bray raised her chin. “I told you before we departed that I had the lead of this investigation.”