"Which ones?" Mayr grumbled.
Gren grunted and feigned hitting Mayr. "Don't be stupid. You know I mean both. Criminals terrifying villages, brothers trying to get something they're never going to deserve—practically the same thing. Either way, watch your backs. And you," he said, jabbing his finger into Mayr's chest, "keep your eyes on her. I don't like bureaucrats; I never have. This one gets by, so make sure she stays alive. Tracel would kill me if I didn't tell you to do your job. Now I've got work to do."
Without another word, he left the room.
"He's charming, just like you, Mayr," Lira said, pushing her chair back and standing. She looked more tired than she had when she first entered the room.
"Thanks for noticing." Mayr grinned, making Aeley wonder how much he liked Lira. Never once had he volunteered the information and Aeley had not inquired. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do. You should go play nice," he ordered and poked Aeley's nose before walking away. "Play house. Play master and servant. Play anything you want. Just be ready for when they get back." He stopped in the doorway. "And dressed, preferably. Anything less could be controversial."
Mayr disappeared around the corner. "You'd better be returning the alcohol tonight!" Aeley yelled. She tried not to laugh when his response came in the form of whistling a tune, off-key and lively.
Lira smirked. "So, what's your plan now… servant?"
Without waiting for Aeley, Lira hurried to the door. Spinning, she held onto the threshold, a grin on her face. "Think of five things to do without clothes. Now think of one you want to do really, really well. Catch me and I might just let you."
When Lira turned and ran through the hall, Aeley was not far behind.
*~*~*
After sharing the same house with them for nine days, how was it she was still sober—and why did she feel like the worst was yet to come?
Aware of how calm Ryler was while they walked the estate, Aeley allowed him to ramble about how marvelous he found the house and the grounds. How much of the flattery she should believe? Compared to his brother, she found him slightly more tolerable.
She gazed down the hall. Between worrying about the next attack and courting Lira, she tried to entertain the brothers without revealing her true thoughts. The Council had never said she needed to be completely truthful with them. As it was, honesty was the least of her worries.
Ryler pulled her to a stop. "You're thinking again."
"What?" Aeley asked, blinking at his stare. It was almost as if he scolded her. Or did he? It was hard to tell with him, unlike Emon, who was an easier read: his emotions often splashed across his face with little effort to hide them.
"You get this face when you're worried. Want to share?"
Not really.
"It's about the attacks again, isn't it?"
Maybe. Aeley crossed her arms and shuffled her feet.
Ryler's odd smile matched his shifting expressions. "You can't help yourself, can you? You're one of those. Always waiting for the world to fall apart, and disappointed when it doesn't."
"Absolutely not! Just when there's reason to." Aeley scowled at Ryler's grin. He took too much pleasure in her annoyance. Maybe I should tell you 'no' now and rip that grin right off your face. If only you weren't useful with your friends and your funds and whatever else you've put on the table. "But doesn't it bother you that for several days—almost one right after another—there are attacks, but then suddenly nothing? It's just too quiet. I mean, nothing in five days—"
"Six."
"Fine, six. Still the same problem."
"Well, instead of worrying, maybe you should try saying thank you."
"What? Why?"
"Well, obviously us being here is helping you. The way I see it, things started to quiet down once we stuck our necks out and started asking questions. You know, trying to stir up trouble." Ryler shrugged. "I'd say we started asking the right people the right questions and running the trouble off. People don't like being cornered any more than they like being caught."
And of course, you'd go straight to that conclusion. Goddesses, where's Lira when I need her? Aeley sighed, allowing Ryler to think the gesture referred to him. Off with Vant, doing her job, naturally. And Mayr's still down in the village checking on their progress. Why did I listen to Ryler's suggestion to send him, anyway? I should've just gone myself. Then again, that probably would've included Ryler following. At this rate, I'll be lucky if we make it to dinner to hear what Mayr has to say about any of it.
"You just can't bring yourself to say it, even after we've all been rather friendly the last few days. Even the voices in my head are more grateful than you." Ryler strolled down the hall with his hands shoved into his pants pockets. When he began to whistle, Aeley wondered what else he wanted to say.
She hurried after him. "It's not that. It's just that—"
Emon rushed into the hall, emerging from the shadows of the corridor leading to the cells below. Aeley stopped behind Ryler, catching herself when he stepped back and nearly bumped into her. When he peered over his shoulder, Aeley saw his surprise.
"Emon," she greeted, and regained her composure. What was he doing down there? Or was he waiting for us to pass by? No, that makes absolutely no sense… Stupid paranoia. Probably just going through the armoury. "It's a bit of a surprise seeing you here. There's not much down there. Were you searching for something? Anything I can do?"
Emon cleared his throat. His gaze shifted to Ryler's before widening and returning to Aeley. He slipped his hands behind his back, his shoulders and chest tense. His smile seemed forced. "Aeley. Ryler. No, nothing. Thank you for the offer, however. I was just checking on things. The cells and weapons and so forth. I was making sure they were in good standing. You never know when they'll be required." He gave his brother a curt nod. "Everything looks to be in order."
Aeley slapped Ryler's shoulder before gesturing to Emon. "See? He gets it. That's what I'm talking about."
"What?" Emon asked, his smile faltering.
Ryler sighed. "You don't want to know." He jutted his thumb back behind him. "And I'll save you—run, now, before she starts sharing her problems with you."
"Thanks," Emon said. With a stiff bow, he excused himself and walked away.
"Yes, thanks," Aeley spat out. "A girl loves being treated like she's crazy, especially in front of other people."
Ryler's shoulders sank and his body relaxed, his hands slipping into his pockets again. For the first time since running into his brother, Aeley realized he was almost as tense as Emon. Had they expected harsh words from one another?
"Suppose I should say that I'm sorry," Ryler murmured, "but since you won't say 'thank you', we'll just say we're even."
Aeley fought to keep her mouth from dropping open. She had plenty to say, none of which would be kind. Using them is bad enough. Keep your head on. Don't be any more stupid about this.
"We should get something to eat." Ryler reached for her. Looking up the hall, his arm stopped midway. He retracted and pulled his hands behind his back.
"What?" Aeley asked, turning to see Gren walking towards them. With his sword strapped to his back and more than one knife on his belt, she wondered if he expected to start a fight. The annoyance on his face told her nothing, but the cloak in his hand made her think he was going somewhere.
He stopped several paces away and crooked a finger, beckoning Aeley to him without glancing at Ryler. Aeley obeyed without debate. Except for meals where the chatter was strained and awkward, she could not get the men in the same room and expect them to be near one another, let alone talk.
"I'm taking a trip," Gren announced when she neared. He pulled her closer by the wrist, positioning her in front of him as if trying to hide from Ryler. "Going up to the quarries."
"You were there already. What could you possibly get from Allon that's any different?"
Gren snorted. "Not wasting my time on him. Saw him once and that's enough. They're lucky I left him intact. They
appreciated the broken face, though." He waved his hand and peered over his shoulder, almost like he expected someone. "Not him. Just a couple guys I know. Maybe even Rea, assuming she's feeling giving. I asked them to keep track of who's been visiting. Names, if they could. Appearances at the least. Origins. Family crests. Anything useful."
"So you still agree with me?"
"I'm willing to bet there's more to it than just someone getting up one morning and deciding to wreak havoc. And I certainly wouldn't trust anyone who says they're friends of his."
"And he says I'm paranoid," Aeley muttered.
"What?"
Aeley waved the question away. "Nothing."
Gren looked her over, one eye narrowed with suspicion. "I'll be back when I'm back. So stay out of trouble," he told her, poking her forehead. He turned away and raised his hand, shouting as he walked back towards the doors. "And a little paranoia's healthy. It'll keep you alive longer than being an ass."
Spinning on her heel, Aeley caught Ryler's disgusted expression. His face relaxed when she returned to him.
"I was thinking," Ryler started. With an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her into a slow walk. "We should go for a ride in the carriage." Before she could ask why, he placed a finger on her lips. "The sun's up and it's a day worth enjoying. We can go see for ourselves that things are all right. Sometimes you need to accept things are peaceful, good. If it takes showing you that, then fine."
"But the guests coming for this evening—Mayr—"
"We'll be back before Dreca and the other magistrates arrive. We'll want to hear their reports." He tugged on her hand. "It'll clear what ails you. Maybe even make you smile. Just a little, though. I don't know if the world's ready for a full one yet."
Aeley did not restrain her laugh. For a moment, he was as charming as he joked he wanted to be. A carriage ride was not a serious commitment, and even more, he made a good case. Neither was it frivolous, offering the possibility of easing her concerns. Of all the things she could do, it made more sense than most of the alternatives.
When Ryler tugged on her hand again, she followed along. Assuming they kept their attitudes and verbal jabs under control, the trip could be what exactly she needed.
*~*~*
Two villages checked, four more left, Aeley thought, and slid across the carriage cushion. And no one's falling apart. She watched Ryler sink into his seat and close the door before thumping his hand on the ceiling. The carriage rolled forward, bouncing back and forth over rocks until sinking into the tracks running up the length of the dirt road.
"I told you it wouldn't be so bad." Ryler gazed out the window, his legs crossed and his hands clasped at his hip. "You look better than when we left. Guess my terrible, horrible, unthinkable plan is working?"
"It wasn't terrible," Aeley argued, "just unexpected."
"Still not used to us, are you? You're still trying to accept what this is. Still uncertain." Ryler's head snapped back towards her. "We're not stupid. We can see it. Among other things."
Without warning, he moved to sit beside her. Aeley drew closer to the side of the carriage, gripping the seat when his leg pressed to hers. Her instincts told her to slap him, but her mind reasoned it unnecessary.
Ryler drew a finger down the side of her face. He pulled her hair over her shoulder and leaned into her.
She reached for her knife. Don't kill him. You can't kill him. He's playing a game, trying to win you over. When his lips grazed her ear in a gentle kiss, she pulled the knife from the sheath slowly, ready to aim it at his ribcage. Only Lira was allowed to be intimate with her. If he wanted more than that kiss, he would lose something of his to pay for it. Game or no, she had not agreed to anything more than a civilized relationship before marriage.
"How long have you been toying with our sister?" he whispered. His hand snaked under the arm she had bent back, sliding his hand along her waist to grab the wrist of her knife hand. Aeley tugged on her hand and his low chuckle filled her ear. He gripped tighter and dug his fingertips into her skin, pressuring her to release the knife. "When were you expecting to make that little announcement, hmm?"
Aeley rammed her knuckles into his throat until he wheezed. "When I was done with this situation, you idiot."
Ryler pulled back and took the knife with him. He tossed it behind him and rubbed his throat. "Kind of you to finally admit it. But that didn't need to be so hard. By the Four, you play rough. I think we need to—"
The carriage stopped abruptly, throwing them back. They tumbled into each other. The horses snorted and the carriage rolled back before stopping again. The driver shouted for someone to stop. Then the carriage rattled, rocking back and forth. Something pounded the roof, threatening to get in.
The door opened.
Aeley launched herself at Ryler. Struggling to get her knife, she glimpsed the masked head entering the carriage, followed by gloved hands reaching for her. Ryler pushed her back and pinned her into the corner. He twisted and kicked at the assailant, shouting for them to leave.
"Get off!" she cried, trying to pull him off. "I can fight—"
Ryler yelled. His body jerked back, yanked from the carriage legs-first into the road. Through the door, she could see two men jump on him and start beating him. His arms flung up and out, trying to bat them away.
Another body in dark clothes entered her sight, climbing into the carriage with little effort. He leapt at her, his hands reaching for her face and grabbing her hair. She kicked his knee and kneed his waist. He grunted, but did not recoil. With swift, hard yanks on her hair, he pulled her forward. They tumbled to the floor. Her knees scraped the wood as he tugged her into the doorway. Fighting for air, Aeley slammed her palm into his face.
He yelped and released her. She scrambled to sit up, her head smashing against the metal threshold when the man attacked her again. Wrapping his body around hers, he pulled back.
She fell to the ground, landing on her assailant, flattened beneath her. Aeley pushed back and rammed her elbow into his chest. "Take that for attacking me!" she yelled and stumbled back while he struggled to breath.
Ryler's hoarse shout caught her attention. He stood with his fists raised, jabbing at one of his attackers after he dodged another blow. His nose bled and his shirt was torn. Behind him, the carriage driver lay on the ground with his arms twisted behind his back and his face in the dirt. Blood trickled down his cheek, the wound in his head glistening in the sun. Beside him lay his hat and a rock smeared with what she concluded was his blood.
Aeley touched her belt. My knife. That idiot took it right when I needed it. She spun towards the carriage.
Two of the assailants jumped in front of the door. "I don't think so," one said, before pushing his companion towards her.
She shuffled back and glimpsed Ryler. Holding up her fists, she dug her feet into the ground. When the man rushed towards her with his fists up, she waited for the right moment. Aim for the throat or just step aside? I could—
The world shifted, flying away from her line of sight. Everything blurred into black and red, wrapped in blinding yellow light.
She slammed onto the ground. Her shoulder dug into the rock-littered dirt and her neck strained as her head bounced. It was hard to catch her breath. The man had barreled into her, his shoulder powerful like a battering ram. Were her ribs broken or just bruised?
The heavy weight pinning her, he scrambled over her body to hold her legs down. She heard heavy breaths. Hers? His? Both?
Aeley stared up. Instead of blue sky, she saw darkness. From above, firm hands pushed on her chest. A foot pressed hard on her stomach and she coughed, wincing when pain flared through her waist.
"Time to sleep," a voice murmured, almost soothing. Fingers wrapped around her nose and mouth. The hand felt wet, doused in a bitter scent that became sweet. Her thoughts became fragments, and then they were overcome by silence.
She whispered Lira's name and everything fell away.
Chapter Five
> Aeley breathed in deep, darkness overcoming the bloodied guards and torn corpses holding her hostage in her dream. Allon's face faded, but his laughter lingered.
The sounds of rattling chains pulled her from the darkness and banished the laughter. Around her, the air was moist, dank, and heavy as it filled her nostrils and mouth. She took another breath and choked, the air rushing down to her stomach instead of her lungs. Coughing as she struggled for more breaths, she dragged her forehead across the ground and fought the pain surging through her ribcage.
The skin of her cheek felt raw when she pressed her face to the cool, hard floor. She ran her tongue through her dry mouth and smacked her lips. Blinking, she saw thin strands of straw dance in front of her face with every breath. When she reached for them, metal cuffs entered her sight.
She sat up, crying out when the weight of her body sank onto her abdomen. Aeley raised her hands and pulled taut the chain between her wrists.
One glance around the barred cell told her that she was nowhere she recognized. Surrounded by metal and dim torchlight, she felt like she was in the lower levels of the Dahe estate. A guard stood outside the bars with his back to her, and there were dark forms of foreign objects in the empty spaces along the wall. The room was small, containing four cells. The other three were empty, save for shackles and haphazard clumps of straw. Beyond the guard, she saw the silhouette of a staircase leading upwards, most of the steps shrouded in darkness.
Even with the marred and filthy floor, Aeley considered lying down. Her body screamed for comfort and a soft mattress, but even a flat, metal floor was better than sitting. No, you'll never get up. If anything, you need to stand up. Need to be ready for anyone who comes in. Wait. The men.
She looked down. Pants, tunic… With a breath of relief, Aeley relaxed her muscles and rolled her neck. Her captors had taken her belt and boots, but everything else remained. Whatever they were after, it seemed to transcend her flesh. At least for now. Maybe they like them feisty and dressed. She shuddered and hoped for better.
A Question of Counsel Page 12