by Tanya Bird
Leksi could not believe how far she was prepared to step out of her comfort zone for him. Little did she know he was coping just fine without drink and women. ‘So, you’re going to enter a noisy tavern, full of sweating, shouting men, and drink ale from a dirty mug?’
She swallowed. ‘The mugs are dirty?’ Realising her mistake, she shook her head. ‘Of course they are. It is fine. The whole thing is completely fine.’
He glanced down at her cloak. ‘You’re not wearing the green dress under that, are you? I can’t be wrestling men off you all night.’
She shook her head. ‘That would not help me blend in with the locals, now would it?’
‘No, it wouldn’t.’ He glanced at the horses. ‘All right. One drink, and then I’m taking you home.’
Once again, looking very pleased with herself, Petra turned towards the tavern. Before she had taken her first step, two men burst through the door, one drunk and stumbling, the other guiding him out to the street. Leksi recognised the sober man as Hamon, the owner of the establishment.
‘Home with you,’ Hamon said, facing the drunk west and giving him a gentle push. ‘Before your wife comes looking for you.’ As he was turning back, he locked eyes with Leksi and stopped. ‘Sir Leksi?’
Unbeknownst to Petra, Leksi was well-known in taverns all around Syrasan, so her plan of a discreet, quiet drink and easy departure was not going to be quite so straightforward. ‘Evening, Hamon.’
The man grinned. ‘I’d heard rumours you were in Veanor, but no one seemed to know where exactly.’ Pushing open the door, he called, ‘Guess who’s here?’ The room fell quiet. ‘Sir Leksi.’
Cheers erupted and Petra turned to him, one eyebrow raised. He cleared his throat.
‘After you,’ he said, gesturing to the door, then looked at Charis. ‘Stay alert, and don’t move.’
Hamon held the door open and waited for them to step inside. Leksi wanted to see Petra’s initial reaction when the smell hit her and her shoes stuck to the floor, but he was behind her and missed it. Once inside, her gaze swept the room, and she looked completely lost amid the rowdy men and women, mugs in hand, all raising their drinks to him. Some walked up to shake his hand and pat his back. Women smiled and laughed amongst themselves, adjusting the necklines of their dresses as they did so.
Why did I think this would end well?
‘Drink?’ he said, stepping into Petra’s view. She was surprisingly composed.
‘Ale, please.’ Delivered with a straight face.
‘Clear a table for them,’ Hamon said to one of the barmaids, then turned to Leksi. ‘Sit, enjoy yourself.’
A table was vacated, wiped down, and Leksi pulled one of the chairs out for Petra, checking it was clean before sitting her in it. Another barmaid returned just as he took a seat, a half-smile on her face.
‘There you are,’ she said, looking only at Leksi.
He looked up, trying to remember her name, and more importantly, if there was a reason he ought to remember it. ‘Here I am,’ he replied.
‘The usual?’
He glanced at Petra, who was pretending not to watch the exchange. ‘And also for the lady.’
The barmaid turned, as though noticing Petra for the first time. Her eyes moved up and down, assessing her competition. ‘Oh.’ She looked between them. ‘You don’t normally arrive with a lady friend, Sir Leksi.’
Oh God. ‘Tonight I do.’
The barmaid nodded. ‘Very well. I’ll fetch your drinks.’
‘Thank you,’ Petra said, watching the woman’s swaying hips as she walked away.
Finally they were alone, glancing at one another and then away. A few tables down, a man was playing the lute. He was not very good, but it did not stop people from dancing. Petra watched him for a moment, her nose scrunching up in disapproval.
‘You’re not at Masville anymore,’ Leksi said, his eyes laughing.
‘Clearly.’
The barmaid returned with a jug of ale and two mugs, winking at Leksi as she set them on the table. Petra continued watching the lute player while he poured their drinks.
‘Should I have let you inspect the cup first?’ he asked.
‘Absolutely not,’ she replied, turning back to him. Picking up her drink, she sniffed the frothy liquid. ‘Oh,’ she said, leaning away from it.
Leksi smiled. ‘Have you ever drunk ale before?’
She shook her head. ‘Does it taste better than it smells?’
‘Only one way to find out.’ He clinked his cup against hers. ‘Ready?’
She drew a breath and nodded. They drank at the same time, Leksi taking a large gulp and Petra taking a tentative sip. Her hand went over her mouth as though to stop herself from spitting it out.
‘An acquired taste, perhaps,’ she said.
He laughed, feeling warm and easy in her company—as he always did.
Her gaze returned to the lute player.
‘You never asked me what my talent was,’ she said, turning back to him.
He frowned. ‘Your talent? You mean, when you were a Companion?’
She took another sip of ale, screwing up her face. ‘Yes, when I was a Companion.’
He leaned in to better hear her. ‘Oh no. Did you play the lute?’
Up went her cup, a longer drink that time. She nodded. ‘I played the lute.’
He was genuinely surprised. ‘Really? The lute?’
She studied him over the rim of her drink. ‘Why do you say it like that?’
‘It just doesn’t seem very…’
She tilted her head. ‘Very what?’
‘I don’t know. Noble? Feminine? What word am I searching for?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Feminine? What is that supposed to mean?’
He reached for the jug and topped up their drinks. ‘I would’ve guessed the harp, or singing perhaps.’
‘Not dancing?’
He shook his head. ‘You’re far too prudish for dancing.’
‘Far too…’ She leaned back in her chair, unable to finish her sentence. ‘Is this the sort of establishment where it is acceptable to throw one’s drink at a man?’
Keeping a straight face, he replied, ‘This crowd will burn you alive if you waste perfectly good ale.’
She tapped a finger on her mug. ‘All right, you leave me no choice.’ Bringing her drink to her mouth, she drank until there was only a small amount left in her cup, then stood, blinking away the bad taste.
His eyebrows rose. ‘What are you doing?’
Removing her cloak, she draped it over the back of her chair. ‘Showing you and your friends what this extraordinary instrument can do.’
His eyes went to the lute player, then returned to her. ‘You start playing some pretty ballad and people will throw their drinks at you.’
She stared down at him. ‘What a snob you paint me as. Have you forgotten where I grew up?’
He leaned back in his chair, linking his hands over his stomach. ‘All right, but don’t come crying to me when they shout at you to hand the instrument back.’
Smoothing down her blue peasant dress, she strolled over to the lute player and the music stopped. Everyone who had been dancing complained and turned to see what had caused the disruption. Petra was bent down talking to the man, at one point gesturing to Leksi. The man eventually nodded, handed her his instrument, and vacated his seat. She remained standing, and the clientele watched her curiously, no doubt wondering if she could actually play.
Leksi found himself nervous on her behalf, not because he doubted her ability but whether her song choice would please this particular crowd.
She ran a few scales, warming up her fingers and getting a feel for the instrument. Then she plucked at the strings, a few pretty notes, adjusting the lute against her body as she readied herself. The crowd looked between one another, heads shaking, already growing bored. Leksi was perched on the edge of his chair, preparing to rush in and save her if need be.
With her gaze fixed on the ins
trument, Petra began tapping her heel on the wooden floor, loud enough to capture the attention of the room. All eyes were on her. Then, much to Leksi’s surprise, she burst into a lively version of “The Lord and his Lady.” He should not have been too surprised by the fact that she knew a Syrasan folk song; it was the job of a Companion to know songs and dances from all the kingdoms their kings had relations with, and many of their songs had originated from Corneo anyway.
‘Aye!’ called the men, bringing their hands together to clap in time with her foot.
Only then did she look up, watching the reaction of the room as more people stood to dance. They spun in circles, smiles on their faces. Halfway through the song, Petra’s foot stopped. Her fingers played a single note, so softly that everyone looked over, trying to anticipate what would follow next. Her fingers stilled, and then down came her foot, the tempo shifting, faster that time. More cheers followed, and she smiled at their response, her teeth on display for all to see.
Leksi sat transfixed by the sight of her, his heart in his throat. She glanced at him, her smile only growing. He grinned back at her. It was not just her toe tapping now but her whole foot, thumping the floor. Only once the dancers were dizzy and the spectators giddy with laughter did the song come to a heart-pounding stop.
The entire room turned to her, applauding. She gave a small curtsy and handed the instrument back to its owner. He immediately began playing another song to which everyone knew the words and joined in singing. Petra was about to return to Leksi when one of the men pulled her into the group of dancers. Leksi shot up from his chair, searching for her among the crowd. He was about to start shoving people aside when he spotted her—dancing.
At first, she seemed a bit unsure, watching the feet of the others, no doubt trying to gauge if she could keep up. He stayed back, ready if she needed him, but in no hurry to steal the moment from her if she was happy. If anyone deserved to let down their hair, it was her.
Moments later, she was stomping, clapping and spinning with the rest of them. She was a little out of time in places, but no one seemed to notice, or care for that matter. Leksi crossed his arms, eyes never leaving her. Down the line she went, weaving between the men before joining hands with a partner at the end. The man spun her round and round, until the most magical thing happened.
Laughter.
Not the sweet, tinkling variety that Companions were prone to at social gatherings, but raw, unfiltered laughter. He swallowed, fixated.
When she finally stopped spinning, she turned, looking for him. He could tell the moment she spotted him, because her face relaxed into a smile. Breathless and sweating, she reached one hand out in his direction, gesturing for him to join her amid the barflies.
Leksi realised at that moment that he was going to have a lot of trouble letting her go when the time came—and it would come. At some point she would return to Corneo, and he would be forced to say goodbye. There was every chance she would be handed back to the very man who had crushed her spirit and stripped her of her self-worth.
Another wave of her hand, beckoning him, as a new song began. Then she was swept away by the other dancers.
Blinking, he took a step in her direction, finding her in a line of women on the other side of the room, clapping as men shuffled past them. He went and stood opposite her so he would partner her in the next section of the dance. Their eyes met again. Another smile.
Dancers moved between them, and they watched each other through the gaps, clapping along with the others. Men on one side and women on the other. A border between them.
Then it dawned on him. It was the first time in his life that he had stood in a roomful of available women, watching only one.
Chapter 14
The following morning, Petra woke to the sound of horses outside her window. She sat up, heart racing, trying to gauge the time as light filled the small room. She never slept in, but she also never danced in a tavern until closing time. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she dressed quickly. Perhaps there was news of her son.
Men spoke in low tones, back and forth as they exchanged information. She knew the routine: wait in her room, still and quiet until Leksi came for her. Except the visitors had dismounted their horses and did not appear to be going anywhere. She watched as two strangers led their horses past the window, both wearing red tunics marked with an S. At least they were Syrasan soldiers.
A knock came at the door, and Petra stepped forwards to open it. Leksi was unshaven, his shirt rolled up to his elbows. It was an odd thought, but he did have the most beautiful hands.
‘What is going on?’ she asked, raising her eyes to him. Perhaps they were sending her back. She had been preparing herself for that possibility for some time, so why was she so afraid?
‘They aren’t taking you anywhere, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
She tried to hide her relief. ‘All right.’ Then why did he look worried?
‘There are Corneon soldiers, here in Syrasan, looking for you.’
She let the words settle between them. ‘Oh.’
‘Prince Tyron has sent two additional guards while he… figures things out with King Pandarus.’
She drew a breath. ‘He will have no choice but to hand me over now. King Nilos would never send his men across the border unless he was desperate.’
‘He has clearly lost his mind. He is prepared to go to war in order to get you back.’
Her hands came together in front of her, fingers pressing. She looked down, surprised when the action did not hurt. The bruises had faded and her nails were strong. At some point she had stopped without even realising it.
Leksi took hold of one of her hands and lifted it, inspecting each nail.
‘These men are here to keep you safe, not hand you over. Don’t fall apart just yet.’
The warmth from him was so comforting, she was tempted to step closer and bury her face in his chest, but he let go of her hand and stepped back.
‘I’ll help the men get settled in,’ he continued. ‘Then I need to head into the village for a few hours.’
Her eyes searched his for a moment. ‘Want me to go with you?’
‘No. It’s safer if you stay here.’ He shook his head. ‘Last night was reckless. I should’ve known better.’
She stared up at him. Last night had been one of the best nights of her life. ‘What happened to “where you go, I go”?’ She cringed at her words, feeling like a child.
‘Now you have two guards camped outside your bedroom window.’
She nodded and took a step back from him. ‘Of course.’
He watched her for a moment. ‘I would never leave you unprotected, especially now.’
‘I know that.’ And she did. But she also sensed a shift in him, as though he were withdrawing from her.
Leksi glanced at the cot against the wall where Charis was still fast asleep.
‘He will sleep through anything,’ Petra said.
Leksi shook his head. ‘Let’s see if he sleeps through the toe of my boot in his side.’ He went to turn away, then stopped. ‘You knew the lengths your king would go to in order to get you back.’
She nodded.
‘But you ran anyway.’
‘I ran anyway. It was foolish, I know, but I wanted to see my son, just once. I know how this ends.’
He seemed annoyed by her response. ‘With you happily back at Masville?’
‘Not happily.’
‘But you will go?’
‘You make it sound as though I have a choice.’ He was not looking at her anymore. ‘I know Nilos well enough to know he will not stop, and I cannot hide forever. You are already in danger because of me.’
He nodded at his feet. ‘Nothing will change. It won’t be any better than before.’
‘No, it will be much worse.’
He ran a hand down his face. ‘So you’re just going to give up and give in?’
‘As opposed to what? Do you expect me to go to war w
ith my king?’ Tears prickled her eyes, but she held them in. ‘I have nothing to fight with.’
‘You have me,’ he said, voice slightly raised.
Her expression fell. ‘Sir Leksi,’ she whispered. ‘I have no doubt you are the greatest knight Syrasan has ever known.’ She paused. ‘But you will not win that fight.’
There was a scuffle behind them as Charis got to his feet, stumbling about as he pulled on his trousers. ‘Horses, my lord! I hear horses outside,’ he said, panic in his tone. He tripped over one of his boots, cursing as he fell.
Leksi watched him for a moment before turning back to Petra. ‘When you’re ready, come outside and I’ll introduce you to the men.’
Then he was gone, pulling the door closed behind him.
Chapter 15
There were eyes on Petra every waking hour. Even at night, someone stood guard.
The young soldier’s name was Josse, and she learned he was in his nineteenth year. The older was Morris. He did not say much, but she guessed him to be around forty. They both went about their business, watching her, watching the house, watching the trees on the horizon. There was always someone watching.
Leksi seemed to sleep less and less. Whenever she retired to bed, he would saddle his horse and ride the boundary. She often heard him lecture the other men about what they needed to do better, as though they were incapable of performing their roles. Never mind the fact that Morris was at least ten years his senior.
With Leksi in what could only be described as battle mode, it was rather lonely at the house. He was away often, meeting with various people who had fresh information regarding the latest sightings of Corneon soldiers. He shared nothing with her, offering only a stern expression in place of his usual jokes.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked him one morning. He was in the yard, saddling his horse, not looking at her.
‘Nothing for you to worry about.’ His usual response. ‘I’ll be back in a few hours.’
For two weeks they had existed like that. Ever since the guards had arrived. She had spent most of her time in the garden, trying to keep hold of her sanity, and he had spent most of his time avoiding her questions, no doubt believing he was protecting her in some way.