Eona - Alison Goodman [20]
I felt his attention sharpen. “All right, let’s go inside and play.”
On either side, his companions sniggered, their approval sending him across the few lengths that separated us.
“What do you charge, girl?” He caught my wrist and jerked me against his body. One hand found my waist, the other brushed across my breast. I froze, his touch bringing another stark memory from the salt farm: the grabbing hands of the whipmaster, and Dolana kicking him away.
“Let her go.”
It was Haddo. The clipped command sent the soldier into a tense salute. Suddenly free of his restraint, I stumbled. Haddo’s iron grip caught my arm and held me up from the cobbled paving.
“Sorry, sir,” the soldier said. His friends edged back into the shadows. “I thought she was one of the local—”
“Use your eyes, Laon, not your prick. She’s wearing a mourning robe.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Practice your observation skills on guard duty. Now!”
The soldier saluted again and was gone. Haddo, his grip still tight around my arm, peered into my face.
“Madam? Are you all right?”
There was no doubt he could see the sanity in my eyes; I could not keep conjuring madness under such scrutiny.
“Lieutenant Haddo,” I said, frowning. “What am I doing outside? Why do you hold me?”
He let go of my arm. “You were”—he paused—“indisposed. But I see that you have now come back to yourself.”
I studied the ground, avoiding his keen eyes. “I do not remember.”
“It is sometimes like that,” he said, and awkwardly patted my shoulder. “My wife thought she could feel the breath of our boy on her cheek. It will get better.”
“Where is she?” It was Dela’s voice, coming from the lodging house.
The innkeeper’s bulk pushed the door flags apart. “This way, in the courtyard,” he said, leading Dela through the doorway. “You should not have left her without her maid. I can’t have madwomen running around my inn.”
“She is not mad,” Dela said, reaching into the pouch tied at her waist. “It is just grief and the rigors of the journey. Here, a small sum to ease your inconvenience.” She passed a coin to the innkeeper, then saw me beside Haddo. “Lieutenant, I believe you have also been of assistance to my wife. I thank you, and am sorry for your trouble.” She bowed, the courtesy stiff with anger. I had a feeling it was not part of her act.
Haddo returned the bow. “No trouble, sir. And no harm has come to her, although I suggest you do not leave her alone at this time.”
Dela gripped my arm tightly. “Come, wife. Let me take you back to the comfort of our room.” She pulled me toward the doorway, nodding once to the lieutenant. “Again, my thanks.”
Vida was waiting inside the lodging house foyer, holding the bundle that held my swords and compass.
“Do you think only of yourself?” she hissed, thrusting the bundle into my hands. “You put us all at risk.”
For a moment I closed my eyes, absorbing the familiar jolt of Kinra’s angry energy through the cloth. I knew Vida’s tongue was sharpened by grief and fear, but the unfair charge still stung. She had not heard Haddo’s intentions. Who was she to judge my every action? I clenched my fist, transfixed by an image of driving it into her face. Abruptly I turned and followed Dela upstairs, startled by the violence of my resentment.
At the landing, Dela turned to Vida. “Stay here,” she whispered. “Let me know if anyone comes into the house, front or back.”
Vida gave a sharp nod and pressed herself against the wall. “I know how to follow orders.”
I trailed behind Dela and braced myself as she slid the screen door closed behind us. Dressed as a man, her sharp features and spare frame lent her a stern handsomeness that had hardened into fury.
Two strides and she was upon me. “That was beyond foolhardy,” she said against my ear, each word like a slap. “I thought you had some sense. And yet you put yourself—you put us all—in danger!”
I hugged Kinra’s swords, my own fury rising. “Haddo was going to the stables in search of you. I had to do something. Or would you rather I sit by and let him find—” Caution made me stop,