She hopped up behind him. “What else is on your list?”
“Food. A horse for you.”
“What? You don’t like me being this close to you as we ride?” She wrapped her arms around his waist.
He flinched. “I, um, think we’ll be able to travel faster if we didn’t wear out my horse.”
“Now he’s the liar.”
Arden giggled at Loku’s observation. “I agree. It will be nice to have my own horse, especially if we need to outrun anyone looking for us.”
“Are you comfortable handling a horse?”
“Of course. Before I worked in the kitchen, I used to work in the stable.” His shoulders relaxed, and they cut through the field to get back on the main road toward Pasella.
Chapter 10
The sun hung low and red on the horizon when they entered Pasella. Despite the late hour, the markets still bustled with activity. Merchants shouted out the daily specials from their booths. The pungent scents of exotic spices mingled with the odors of meat and fish. Children wove in and out of the traffic in the streets, laughing as they kicked a ball between the wheels of a passing cart.
It boggled Arden’s mind to think the people could stand to be so close to their neighbors and not become permanently irritated. The constant jostling by the crowds in the street already had her wanting to smack someone.
“Your knuckles are turning white,” Dev said as they rode through the crowded street.
She unlocked her hands from around his waist and allowed the circulation to return to her fingers. “I’ve decided I don’t like the city.”
“And you wanted to stay the night here.” That mocking chuckle rumbled through his chest.
“Point made. Can we please buy what we came here for and leave? I feel like everyone is staring at me.”
“They are.”
“Thanks for trying to soothe my nerves.”
“You’ll be more comfortable once we get to Gravaria.”
She rolled her eyes. “Promises, promises.”
A small child pointed at Cinder and screamed, “Wolf!”
The crowd parted around them and pressed against the sides of the buildings.
With a quiet groan, Dev stopped the horse and dismounted. He ruffled the fur on Cinder’s neck and told the child, “He’s just a large dog. Completely tame.” Then he grabbed the reins and pushed his way through the masses.
Arden took advantage of having the horse all to herself and slid forward into the saddle.
“Ahh, it’s good not having to endure a horse’s ass the entire ride.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked tightly.
She smiled sweetly in return. There was more than one way to define horse’s ass.
As Dev led the horse through the crowds, most people gave them the same amount of leeway as they would a plague-bringer. At least the stench of unwashed bodies and urine wasn’t as overwhelming now. The scents of spices and leather trickled up from the stalls in the market. The merchant trains that came through Wallus twice a year seemed pitiful compared to the variety here.
They stopped in front of a clothing booth, and he began inspecting the cloaks hanging there. Her gaze fixed on a deep blue one that would match her eyes and compliment her hair.
Absolutely perfect. She stroked the buttery-soft wool, admiring the silver embroidery along the edge.
“This will do.” Dev shoved a plain brown cloak into her hand, ignoring the merchant who counted out the coins behind him.
“But I like this one.” She reached for the blue cloak again.
“I don’t care what you like. I’m paying for this, and you’ll take what I think is practical.” How dare he order her around like she was his blood? A few choice words sat poised on the tip of her tongue, but his glare silenced her. For now, anyway.
At the edge of the market, they found a blacksmith with several horses in a pen next to the shop. “Any of them look good to you, Trouble?”
“Why are you asking me? You’re paying for it, so just pick the one you think is most practical.”
A muscle rippled along his jaw, but he didn’t say anything else.
“That was rather sassy.”
“He deserved it. After all, I was just repeating what he told me earlier. He can’t complain that I’m not listening to him.”
She slid out of the saddle and began to inspect the horses. Two of them looked like they’d keel over dead before they reached the coast. A solid black stallion pranced around the pen with so much nervous energy, she feared she wouldn’t be able to control him. That left the small roan near the water trough.
Dev stood next to her. “I think the roan will work best for you,” he said almost apologetically. “Do you agree?”
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “For once.” His lips twitched, and he went to search for the blacksmith. The two men haggled over the price of the mare, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Perhaps she shouldn’t have given Dev such a hard time. After all, he was spending more money on her in one day than Hal had in the last ten years.
With Cinder at her side, she approached the roan with her hand extended. The horse snorted and shied away from the wolf initially, but with a few coaxing words, she came close enough to nuzzle Arden’s hand.
“My apprentice seems to have taken a liking to that one,” she heard Dev say behind her.
“I’m not interested in the others.”
“Apprentice, eh? Is that what they’re calling them these days?” Every muscle in her body locked. Now people thought she was Dev’s whore. She should have expected it, though. Anyone with eyes could tell she wasn’t his blood, and she doubted they’d believe she was his wife.
“Wife. Whore. The only difference between the two are a few words. Oh, and the binding commitment that shackles you to another person.”
“Thank you so much for sharing your unique outlook on life.”
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you’ll understand my perspective.”
“You mean to say you’re not going to drive me to suicidal insanity any time soon?”
“No, my little Soulbearer, I have big plans for you.” The sensation of fingers grazing the curve of her neck sent a shiver through her body. She was about to ask Loku exactly what those plans were when Dev motioned for her to join him.
The blacksmith hurried toward the ramshackle barn on the other side of the pen, the gold coin in his hand glinting in the fading sun.
“You know,” she said, “you shouldn’t flash your money around like that. You’re asking to get robbed.”
The corner of Dev’s mouth quirked up in a half smile. “I’d like to see the human foolish enough to try and rob me. He’d probably run screaming once he saw Cinder light up.” She snuck her arm around his waist and carefully lifted his money pouch. Her fingers brushed against the cool metal inside and hooked three coins into her fist. “Only if you knew you were getting robbed.”
His hand clamped down on her wrist. “What are you trying to prove?”
“That if a more skillful thief picked your pocket, you’d lose a lot more than just a few coins.” She opened her hand to show him the gold in her palm.
His eyes darkened, and a sliver of fear pierced her chest. “You’re a thief in addition to a bar wench?”
She tried to yank her hand free. The gall of that man! “I don’t know what you’re implying.”
He pulled her closer. “I saw the other wench flirting with her customers. I just assumed you also saw to all your customer’s needs.”
Blood pounded in her veins. “And that’s where you’re mistaken. My duties were confined to the kitchen, not upstairs.” She finally wrestled free of his grasp and hurled the coins at his face. “I’m neither a whore nor a thief.”
“Arden, don’t storm out of here like a sulking two-year-old.” She froze at the sound of her name. And all this time, she thought he didn’t know it.
“Apologize first.”
“I’m sorry,” he said through clenched teeth.
That’s his idea of an apology?
“Enjoy it while you can. He’s not a man that apologizes often.”
“I guess I’ll have to.” “Apology accepted. Now, what did you want to show me?”
“This way.” He led her deeper into the shop, where several weapons hung on the wall. He grabbed a short sword with a thin blade and tested it for balance. “This feels like something you should be able to handle.”
Laughter nearly choked her. “You want to buy me a sword?”
“You need to learn to protect yourself in case something happens to me. I would be neglecting my duty if I didn’t at least prepare you for the worst.” He held the sword out to her.
“Here, try it out.”
Her hand trembled as she grasped the hilt of the sword, a thing she’d always been forbidden to touch. Her muscles tensed, preparing to wield the weight of the weapon, but it was lighter than she imagined. Only a few pounds. Gaining confidence, she swung the blade through the air a few times.
Dev dodged the tip of the blade as it passed mere inches from his stomach. “Hey, watch where you’re pointing that thing.”
Arden giggled and continued to mimic the fighting maneuvers she’d seen the men of her village practice with over the years. The rush of having a weapon excited her, and she threw more power into her swings. It felt so comfortable in her hand, like it had been made especially for her. “I want this sword.”
A loud crash sounded behind them, and the hilt slipped through her fingers. The sword landed with a dull clang. She whirled around.
“What is the meaning of this?” the blacksmith asked, his face red with anger.
“I was wondering how much the sword was.” Dev’s cool and collected voice soothed her but had little effect on the blacksmith.
“I don’t sell weapons to women. They need to know their place. You should have better control of your whore.”
Dev crossed his arms, and the silent intimidation that he’d used on Hal before seeped into the room like an invisible fog. “What I teach my apprentice is none of your concern. Again, how much is the sword?”
The color fled from the man’s face, and his mouth flapped open and closed like a fish. “It ain’t right, I tell you. Women should respect their blood, and even when they’ve been cast aside like her, they still need to be taught their place.” Dev’s brows furrowed together. “What a strange kingdom this is. I ask to purchase a sword, and I have a merchant who’s unwilling to sell it to me and keep his family well fed for the next month.”
The blacksmith picked up the sword, his eyes darting back and forth between them. The struggle over money versus his ideals played out in his face. Finally, he said, “Two hundred loras and your word that she won’t use it.”
A tight smile stretched on his lips as Dev reached into his pouch and counted out enough coins to equal double the asking price.
The smith’s eyes widened at the sight of the money, and he gave Dev the sword in exchange for it. “I found a saddle for her. Let me put it on the mare--”
“I can saddle my own horse,” Arden interrupted. Leave it to a man who thought she was nothing more than a whore to not tighten the straps properly, in hopes she’d fall and break her neck. One less cast-off for society to deal with.
“I don’t think you’re a cast-off at all. In truth, you are far more special than any of those fat and content women who are slaves to their blood. Out of all the people in the inn that night, you’re the one I chose as my Soulbearer.”
She closed her eyes and allowed the compliment to wrap around her like a warm hug.
“Thank you, Loku. I needed to hear that.”
Dev fetched the horse from the pen, leading it to her. Within a few minutes, they saddled the horse and prepared to leave Pasella. He sheathed the new sword into a leather scabbard, tucking it into her bedroll.
“I thought you gave your word I wouldn’t use it.”
“Did you hear me agree to that?” He winked at her. “Would you like to stop at an inn for a hot meal before we leave?”
Her stomach growled, but she shook her head. “No, I just want to leave this place.”
“That was very inappropriate for him to say those things about you. I fought hard not to disembowel him when he called you a…” His voice froze.
“When he called me the same thing you accused me of being only a few minutes before?” she finished for him.
He lowered his head and turned away. “I suppose I’m no better than him.” Guilt gnawed away at her mind. Somewhere underneath all the gruff orders and biting sarcasm was a good man, and she’d just punched him in the stomach with shame. “Dev, don’t worry about it. Maybe one day, I’ll explain our traditions and why he said those things. In the meantime, let’s go before the necromancer catches up with us.” Chapter 11
Dev blocked another swing and added one of his own. Trouble’s sword barely met his before he tapped her shoulder. Sweat dripped down her face, and her breaths came in loud pants now. In the distance, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. She spun around, trying to attack him once again. He stood back, calmly parrying her assault.
This was their third night of combat training. So far, she’d proven to be a quick study. He only had to show her a maneuver once or twice before she mastered it. Aided by her cat-like reflexes, she was becoming a formidable opponent in short stretches of combat. The only thing she needed to work on was her stamina.
She swung and missed, leaving her body open for attack. He whacked her on the flank with the flat of his blade.
“Ow!” Her sword fell from her hands.
“You get sloppy when you get tired. Take a break.”
She walked to a tree stump, still clutching her side, and sat with a grunt. “That’s going to leave another bruise.”
“Consider it a lesson learned. It’s far better to be alive with a few bruises than to be dead.”
“I’ll try and keep that in mind when I can’t find a comfortable sleeping position in the morning.” She wiped the sweat off her face. “I’m just glad that spell of yours keeps the blades dull, or I’d be full of holes by now.”
“Only by your own blade. In case you haven’t noticed, most of my hits on you haven’t been with the sharp edges.”
She grimaced. “I’ve noticed. They leave bigger welts.” He studied her once again for any subtle signs of madness while she rested. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen any yet.
His mind drifted back to the blacksmith’s comments in Pasella. He waited for her to explain it to him, but so far, she hadn’t. “Trouble, what did the blacksmith mean the other night about women obeying their blood and being cast aside?” She flinched like he’d slapped her, and he realized too late that he shouldn’t have asked.
The insults were still too fresh. By Jussip, why had he insinuated that she would sleep with men for money? Deep inside, he knew the answer. She’d wounded his pride by proving she could pick his pocket without him noticing it, and he wanted to knock her down a few notches.
And it had backfired.
To his surprise, she answered him. “In Ranello, women are under the control of their nearest male relative, or their ‘blood.’ Everything we have is owned by our blood. They arrange our marriages for us, and if they determine we can’t be married off or if we bring shame to the family, they cast us aside.” Her eyes never left the ground as she spoke.
“What a strange custom that is. In Gravaria, women have the same rights as men. In fact, our ruler is a woman, Empress Marist. But why did he call you a whore?” Her head snapped up, and her mouth tightened into a thin line. “Women who’ve been cast aside have only one option available to them to keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. And since it’s quite obvious we’re not related, he assumed the worst.” Dev shook his head. The sooner he got her out of this kingdom, the better.
She reached inside her tunic, playing with the gold pendant around her neck.
Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a roll of thunder a few seconds later.
“Who is your blood? Your father?”
She froze. The halo in her eyes flashed golden, and her fist clamped around the pendant.
“The man who sired me cast my mother aside and left her. Hal, my mother’s cousin, took her in when she returned to Wallus pregnant with me, even though he wasn’t obligated to do that.
She’d left the village to foolishly find a better life for herself in Trivinus. Instead, all she got was a broken heart and bastard child.”
“So, you have no idea who your father is?”
“Why should I care?” She jumped up to her feet and grabbed her sword. “That asshole took advantage of her.”
He barely had time to grab his own sword and block her swing. The force of the blow sent vibrations up his arm into his shoulder, and he braced for the next thrust as he jumped to his feet.
Her upper lip curled in a snarl. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “He gave her fancy gifts and told her he’d love her forever in order to seduce her into his bed, and then he left her when she needed him the most. It was all a lie.” She continued to swing her weapon in a blind rage, forcing him on the retreat.
Whoever her father was, he feared for the man’s life if she ever found him. Her anger toward the man poured into her strikes.
“Even though Hal took her in, he never let her forget she’d been cast aside, and he resented having to be responsible for me. He forced her into other men’s beds for the money to keep me fed and clothed. She would have never become a whore if my father had been man enough to take responsibility for his actions.”
After a few more hits, fatigue set in. Her swings became less precise. At last, she made a mistake that allowed him to grab her sword arm and pin it behind her back.
“Let go of me! I’m not ready to surrender.”
He pulled her closer to him so her body pressed against his. Tears streamed down her face, and a dull ache formed in his chest. So much pain in someone so young. She wrestled against him, but he held her even tighter. Her anger would continue to fester inside her and drive her closer to the abyss of insanity if she let it. She needed to be shown that if she let go of the past, she’d have so much to look forward to. And he vowed he would help her see that.
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