His half smile held a question and a hope that refused to die no matter how she might scoff. “Decided to share my bed, firefly woman?”
“I admire your fortitude,” she said. “And my answer is still no.”
His quiet chuckle warmed her more than any fire ever could. “I'm also a patient man.” He reclined back on his elbows, long legs stretched so that one foot rested against hers where she stood. “So why have you decided to loom over me?”
She had little skill with the diplomacy of words. Most of the time she preferred not to speak at all. Serovek didn't need a nursemaid, and Anhuset couldn't think of anyone less suited to the task than herself, but she could be of use to him beyond the roles of night guard, armed escort, and Kai representative. “Should you begin to dream, I'll be nearby to wake you.” She kept her voice soft, once more feeling the weight of Ogran's grim regard on her back. No doubt he strained to hear whatever they said.
For a long moment, Serovek didn't answer. He glanced at the wagon adjacent to him before returning his gaze to her. The half smile was gone, allowing her to see the serious side she once thought him incapable of displaying. Shadows darkened the deep-water blue of his eyes even more. “I appreciate and accept your safekeeping.”
She told him goodnight then and left to reconnoiter their campsite and the makeshift rope corral where they'd confined the horses. The forest around them rustled continuously with nocturnal foragers and the predators that hunted them. In the distance, a wolf's lone howl echoed through the trees and was soon joined by a chorus of others. The nearby river tumbled and murmured under a cold spring moon.
To her relief, the night hours remained uneventful, and if Serovek dreamed, they were easy ones that didn't trouble him awake or twist his features in anguish and horror. Megiddo's bier remained dark, no glowing aura of Kai magic to illuminate it or the wagon. When the sun broke across the horizon, she yawned, slid her hood over her head to shield herself from the brightening day, and greeted the yawning margrave with a quick nod.
His slow blinking and sleepy smile made her wonder if this was how all his bedmates saw him when they woke beside him. Made restless by the image her thoughts evoked and the sight of Serovek with the first rays of the sun gilding the silver in his hair, she turned her back and set to relighting the smoldering fire in preparation for the group breaking their fast.
Amid grumbling about the cold and bland road rations, they made short work of the morning meal before breaking camp and setting off once more toward the first dock where a tow boat and small barge waited to take them down the Absu, passing the remains of Haradis, before heading farther east and south by way of one of the river's tributaries.
The captain and his crew waiting at the dock eyed their party with doubtful looks, settling briefly on the wagon with its blanket-covered cargo before resting on Anhuset whose face was mostly obscured by her hood. She kept her hands tucked into the sleeves of her cloak, as much for warmth as to minimize the inevitable macabre curiosity humans had for the Kai.
“We can take the lot of you, but it'll be slow-going with the weight and all. Hope you aren't in a hurry.” The captain smiled a yellow-toothed smile. “And the fare is more when I'm traveling such a distance.”
“How close do you sail to Haradis?” Serovek counted out a pile of coins from a fat purse he kept tied to his belt.
The captain's face froze at the question. He dragged his gaze from the money dropping into his outstretched palm to frown at Serovek. “Too close to my liking, but to get where we're going, we'll have to sail within a quarter-day's walk from it before reaching the tributary.” He scooped the generous fee into a pouch before tucking it into his tunic. He tugged on his tangled beard. “Nothing to worry about though. There's plenty of water between us and the city, and we can navigate right quick past it. You'll only catch a glimpse of the tower remains before it's at our backs and gone.”
Serovek gestured to Klanek to bring the wagon forward and instructed the rest to start loading everything onto the barge. He nudged Anhuset's shoulder, and the two distanced themselves a short way from the rest.
“Here's where you decide if you want to stop at Haradis.” His offer surprised her, one that instinct warned she should refuse, and loyalty to Brishen pressed she should accept. Serovek nodded to the crew. “The captain can sail to one of the narrow points of the Absu without docking. The river is calmer there and easy to wade, even if you can't swim. We can get to the shore and make our way to Haradis on foot.”
“I'm familiar with the path.” She paused, caught by a single word in his plan. “We?”
The teasing smile flickered across his mouth and was gone. “I'll accompany you unless you wish to go alone.” He raised a hand as if to ward off an expected protest from her. “I know you don't need a protector, but this is Haradis.” No amusement remained in his expression, and his voice carried a note that made the hairs on her nape lift a little. His gaze shifted to the direction in which the broken capital lay. “It isn't as you remember it. I'd discourage anyone from going alone.”
Brishen had cut off every suggestion and offer she'd made to visit Haradis and report back to him of its condition. A man of mild temperament and monumental resolve, he barely listened to her arguments in favor of sending a scout. His face had taken on the same bleak look Serovek wore now, as if memory of battling the galla there was a blacker shade than all the dark dreams Ildiko claimed plagued his sleep. The margrave offered her the chance Brishen continued to deny her for reasons he refused to discuss; she'd be a fool not to accept. From a military standpoint, it was both wise and necessary. And Brishen Khaskem wasn't here at the moment.
“I agree with your prudence, but you're not obliged to me,” she said, wishing she could read human emotion more easily. Serovek's face was a study in stoicism, but the tension in his body and her own instincts alerted her to the fact that visiting Haradis wasn't something he anticipated with pleasure. “You fought the galla there. Surely, that's no memory you wish to resurrect.”
He shrugged. “We fought the galla many places before we defeated them. Haradis is the remains of a battlefield. The memorial of a tragedy. But neither I nor any of the Beladine lost a loved one there. We don't have a history with Haradis. You do.”
Had it been Saggara destroyed by the galla, he'd be right. Like all the Kai, a part of her mourned the loss of the city and its inhabitants, but the ties that bound her heart lay elsewhere. “Saggara, not Haradis, has always been my home. I won't be troubled.”
Serovek's forehead creased for a moment into a disbelieving frown. He sighed. “So you say. If the river and weather stay agreeable, we should reach the city's edge by late afternoon.”
The captain balked at first when Serovek relayed their plans, quieting only when the flash of additional coin passed in front of his eyes. Serovek's men protested even louder.
“I can go in your stead, my lord,” Erostis offered. “I know nothing of Haradis, but with sha-Anhuset acting as guide, we can scout enough of the city and report back with useful information for both you and the Khaskem.”
He grunted when Serovek landed a friendly swat on his shoulder. “You're more useful to me here. And with Anhuset and I both familiar with Haradis's streets, we can split up and reconnoiter in half the time and be finished before midnight.”
His assurances stretched reality a little in her opinion. He might have fought his way through the streets of Haradis, but Anhuset doubted he remembered much about the city's grid, too busy cutting his way through galla to reach the palace. But she held her tongue and didn't argue. Erostis was a decent sort, and she liked him well enough, but if she had to have human company for this trip, she preferred the margrave. The small voice inside her gave a mocking laugh before she could silence it.
Once they were all aboard and the towboat and barge riding the Absu's waves under his steersman's guidance, he approached Serovek with a pair of filled pipes, offering one to Serovek. Close enough to hear their conversation, A
nhuset leaned on the railing to unabashedly eavesdrop.
“The stop where I'd normally put you to disembark has changed.” He puffed on his pipe before using it to point out some unseen detail of the geography on the passing shore. “A squire with holdings not far from here sent a small army of crofters and vassals to dredge the shallow spots. They're deeper and wider now, no drying up during the hot months, and they cut down every bridge and tore away every natural dam they found just in case you and the others missed a demon or two.” He shot Serovek a challenging look, as if questioning the Wraith kings' success and believing more in their failure. “The landing is too deep for your horses and too treacherous for a swimmer. I can pull to shore about a half league farther back. You can hike in from there and meet us down river by a way-stop called Cat's Paw Hollow.”
Serovek's gaze met hers over the captain's head. “Decision's still yours,” he told her in bast-Kai.
She replied in the same tongue, much to the captain's consternation. “It'll delay the journey.”
“Not by much and only if you want to pitch camp overnight in Haradis.” A tiny shudder belied his casual tone. “I'm not much eager to avail myself of the hospitality.”
Decision finalized, they made plans to disembark at the agreed-upon spot, leaving behind their horses and most of their gear, carrying with them only what they could transport in oilskin packs. For Anhuset, that meant going without her armor, her shield, and some of her heavier weaponry. It was much the same for Serovek.
They both watched the tow and barge for a moment as they sailed onward, leaving them on a spit of dry ground that stretched into the river like a pointing finger. A short footbridge had once stretched from this spot to the main shore, but the captain had spoken true. All that remained now were bits of cut rope and a few broken boards that hadn't been scavenged yet for firewood. The current tumbled slower there in the gap between land and river but was still something not to take lightly. People had drowned in waters shallower than these.
“I should have asked this on the boat but just assumed it was so. You can swim, yes?” Serovek eyed her with part hope and part dread.
Anhuset bit back a laugh. She understood what he implied. If she couldn't swim, he'd have to carry her across, and if he did, they were in imminent danger of drowning. If she were to guess, she probably equaled Serovek in weight, and while he was impressively strong, carting another person across deep, fast-running water presented significant risk for both. “I'm an excellent swimmer.”
His wide shoulders drooped in relief and his square teeth flashed white with his smile. “Is that a boast?”
She sniffed. “It's a fact, margrave. I'll even challenge you to a race across if you wish and promise not to tell your men that you lost. Badly.”
His laughter carved the lines at the corners of his eyes a touch deeper. “As cold as that water promises to be, I wager I can walk on it just to keep from freezing my balls off.”
Anhuset was growing to enjoy the look of his amusement. The sound of it too. It teased but didn't mock. She'd never known him to be cruel, though she'd witnessed his ruthlessness firsthand when he'd sentenced a brigand to die and carried out the execution himself without hesitation. Those who mistook his jovial manner as a weakness took their life in their hands.
She never made such a mistake with anyone, but she'd underestimated Serovek Pangion and the power of his charm. He was a man she could admire at every level. She didn't want to feel this way. Not for anyone.
“The Absu won't get any warmer with us standing here,” she said abruptly, ignoring the puzzlement flitting across his face at her sudden gruff tone. She bent to remove her boots and strip off her clothing. Soon, she was bare to the wind and sun, with chill bumps covering every bit of skin. Her nipples ached from the cold, and she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. A strangled sound reached her ears, and she paused from stuffing her clothing deep into the oilskin she carried to catch Serovek peeling off his trousers, leaving him as naked as she.
He was an impressive sight. Muscular and long-legged. A big man with a physique hardened by years of martial training and horsemanship. Her gaze drifted over him, stopping at his groin to stare admiringly at his endowments. “So the rumors were accurate,” she said bluntly. “I wondered. And doubted.”
He exhaled a combination of a cough and startled laughter before clearing his throat. “Did you now? I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating. You're refreshingly forthright.”
The heat of a blush suffused her skin, chasing away the cold. She'd never been one to mince words, but there were times when it was better to keep one's thoughts to oneself. This was probably one of those times. But what was said was said, and she couldn't roll back time. “I don't know how else to be, Stallion.”
“And I'm grateful for it,” he replied. He swept a hand down his torso. “If it were warmer...well, you aren't seeing me at my best.” He winked.
“I've seen you at your best.” Her tongue had taken on a life of its own, refusing to heed the command of her brain which shouted at her to shut up. “On the summit of a tor, as an eidolon returned from battling demons, in a fight with those who tortured my liege. The gods were generous with you, but that isn't what elevates you or any man.”
With that said, and the fires of mortification still singing through her blood, she didn't wait for an answer or rebuttal. Instead, she lifted her pack and shoes, inhaled a bracing breath and waded into the river.
All thoughts of Serovek's naked beauty fled her mind at the first lap of the Absu's icy caress on her skin. Every Kai curse word she'd learned from childhood to present day poured from her lips in a stuttering stream as she swam across the narrow channel, keeping the arm holding her gear above her head. Behind her, a litany of snarling Beladine invectives filled the air as the margrave joined her.
The Absu's waters were numbingly cold, never warming even after their vigorous swim. Once out of the water, Serovek shook like a drenched dog, scattering a shower of water droplets in every direction. “Fuck, it's cold,” he declared through chattering teeth, accompanied by a shiver as he sloughed more water off his skin with his hands. His hair hung in a dripping horse's tail over one shoulder. The bracing cold had washed his complexion of any ruddiness. Anhuset found him almost attractive.
They hurriedly dressed in the still-dry clothes dug from their oilcloth packs. She almost groaned aloud at the blissful feel of thick dry wool wrapped around her. She'd left her cloak with her gear in favor of a padded tunic and a small cap she now pulled down over her chilly ears. It did nothing to shield her from the afternoon sun's brightness, but they'd be in the forest shade soon. She'd just have to squint until then.
Serovek fastened on his second boot and stood. He flexed one foot, frowning. “I think my toes have frozen together. At least we won't have to swim on the return trip.”
“We don't have much sunlight left. We'll need to walk to warm up.” Her back teeth clacked across her words. He was right. It was fucking cold, and standing about complaining wasn't going to make things any better. She did as he had, drying her feet and slipping on her boots before setting off toward the line of trees standing sentinel in front of them. Behind their shield wall, lay a sun-dappled trek through a dense understory and beyond that, Haradis.
Serovek fell into step beside her, still shivering. He carried a long knife in one gloved hand and used the other to help clear a path. She carried a similar knife, the weapon serving as both slayer and scythe if needed. They cut through a barrier of crackling thorn bushes, still dry and brown from the last days of a clinging winter. “It's a good thing we aren't hunting or being hunted,” she muttered. “We're making more noise than a herd of cattle, and I left enough blood on those thorns to paint a portrait.”
The woodland twilight offered respite from the sun, drawing upon itself a deeper darkness as the day waned. Anhuset was grateful for the shade and not having to squint. She glanced at her companion, noting that he now squi
nted in an effort to make clear those things made obscure by the gloom. “We're closer to Haradis,” she said. “I'm familiar with this area and can put us on an easier path than this one.”
“By all means, take the lead,” he said, gesturing for her to stride in front of him. “The darker it gets, the harder it'll be for me to see. I never thought I'd be in a hurry to return to Haradis, but I don't need to slow us down by stumbling my way through the woods half blind.”
He was Beladine, raised in a society where women rarely held a leadership role, and she'd expected him to offer some token resistance to her leading the way. He did not, and she was glad for it and his practicality. At least there'd be no foolish arguing over who enjoyed the questionable privilege of being first to carve their way through a spiky bramble thicket.
Darkness had descended fully by the time she caught sight of the closest tower that flanked one side of Haradis's main gate. It rose above the treeline like a spear point, the small windows near the top nothing more than black spots from which no lamplight shone.
“The woodland breathes softly,” Serovek said in quiet tones. “And carefully, as if it either waits for something to come forth or hopes it passes by once it finally does.” The slight change in the way he held the cane knife alerted Anhuset to his rising caution.
She didn't scoff at his observation, feeling too a kind of unnatural hush that thickened around them, growing more and more stifling the closer they got to the city. No animal sounds, no scurrying for food, no howls or the crackle of dead leaves under creeping feet other than theirs. This forest was empty of its creatures.
The night held no mystery for her. She saw better in the shadow than she did in the light, and nothing looked out of the ordinary as they trekked closer to the gate. But the silence—it breathed, just as Serovek said, and Anhuset strained to hear some odd whisper or ghostly conversation float toward her. A burbling sound teased her ears, and she pointed in the direction from which it came, close to the city and growing louder as they walked.
The Ippos King: Wraith Kings Book Three Page 12