Eona - Alison Goodman [14]
“Please, sir, my mistress needs to lie down,” Vida said, the weight of her body edging me toward the man. In reflex, I pushed back. She dug her fingernails into my arm until pain and a sharp pinch bent me over again.
The lieutenant retreated another step, then looked up at his men in the cart. They were both smirking at his discomfort. “Well? Is it clear?”
The man holding the mattress let it drop. “Yes, sir.”
“Then get out of there and let this poor lady rest.”
The men climbed down and, with a salute, returned to the waiting troop.
As they walked out of earshot, Haddo said softly, “Do not be distressed, madam. My own wife had the same kind of sickness . . . afterward.” He gestured at my white robe. “We found good fortune at the Moon Lady Waters. I’m sure the gods will return your health, too, and favor you with another son.”
I summoned a weak smile.
“Since we are set in the same direction,” he continued, “you and your husband can travel with us to the next village. It will be safer and quicker.”
“That is very generous of you, Lieutenant Haddo,” I said, forcing gratitude into my voice. “But we would not wish to keep you from your duties.”
“My troop is crossing the mountain, anyway,” he said. “And I am sure the gods would want me to assist your pilgrimage. We should reach Laosang village before nightfall.” He bowed and walked away, no doubt to tell my husband of our good fortune.
Vida eyed me as I spat out the last of the bile.
“Next time, don’t fight me,” she murmured, guiding me to the cart.
I longed to shake off her hands, but I was too weak to climb back inside alone. And I had to admit her quick wits had saved the day, if not my dignity. Without missing a beat, she bent to one knee at the back of the cart, the other knee raised—a good maid offering her sick mistress a mounting-step. Although it was tempting, I did not take the opportunity to tread heavily. I crawled onto the pallet and heard Dela trying to reject Haddo’s offer. Every attempt was courteously turned aside; the man was intent on helping us. It seemed our clever ruse had become our trap.
“Well, I am very grateful, sir,” Dela finally said. We had no choice but to accept—blunt refusal would make the lieutenant suspicious. “It will be a relief to have your protection.”
Vida pulled down the back flap, the strain in her face a mirror of my own; every moment we spent in the company of these soldiers could mean discovery. And now we were traveling alongside them.
“Forward, then,” the lieutenant called.
Silhouettes moved along the canopy as the cart jerked into motion. The front hatch slid open and Dela leaned into the cart.
“Are you all right back there, wife?” Her voice was all consideration, but her eyes were fixed on Ryko’s hiding place.
“I will be glad to stop for the night, husband,” I answered.
Dela nodded. We all knew there was nothing we could do for the moment or, indeed, for as long as we were surrounded by Sethon’s men. Ryko would have to stay where he was until darkness gave us some cover to extract him.
Dela cast one more anxious look at the floor, then withdrew.
I rolled onto my side and carefully lifted the edge of the straw pallet, ignoring Vida’s soft hiss of protest. Pressing my cheek against the floor planks, I whispered, “Tonight,” just in case Ryko could hear me over the rumbling of the cart. It was unlikely, but I could not bear to think of him in that tiny space with no idea of what was happening or when he would be able to escape.
I fell onto my back as another rise of nausea soured my throat. Near my feet, Vida was stuffing the mess of food boxes and bedding back into the traveling baskets.
“Here,” she whispered, passing me a fresh flask of water. “You need to rest. Drink a little, but take it slowly or you’ll vomit again. It is like you have been hit hard on the head, and there is no remedy for that, except rest.”
“You knew I’d be sick out there?”
She shrugged.
No sympathy, but what did I expect? A tentative sip of water made my stomach churn. I replugged