Fire - Kristin Cashore [57]
And so that young woman must be associated with Brigan. Interesting, indeed, and a very pretty view, until Fire moved to her bedchamber windows and encountered a sight she appreciated even more: the stables. She stretched her mind and found Small, and was immensely comforted to know he would be near enough for her to feel.
Her rooms were too large, but comfortable, the windows open and fitted with wire screens; a consideration someone had taken for her specially, she suspected, so she could pass her window with her hair uncovered and not have to worry about raptor monsters or an invasion of monster bugs.
It occurred to her then that perhaps these had been Cansrel’s rooms, or Cansrel’s screens. Just as quickly she dismissed the possibility. Cansrel would have had more rooms, and larger, closer to the king, overlooking one of the white inner courtyards, with a balcony outside each tall window, as she’d seen when she first entered the courtyard.
And then her thoughts were interrupted by the consciousness of the king. She looked to the door of her bedchamber, puzzled, and then startled, as Nash burst in.
‘Brother King,’ Clara said, much surprised. ‘Couldn’t wait for her to wash the road dust from her hands?’
Fire’s guard of twenty dropped to their knees. Nash didn’t even see them, didn’t hear Clara, strode across the room to the window where Fire stood. He clamped his hand around her neck and tried to kiss her.
She’d sensed it coming, but his mind was quick and slippery, and she hadn’t moved fast enough to take hold. And during their previous encounter he’d been drunk. He was not drunk now, and the difference was marked. To avoid his kiss she dropped to her knee in an imitation of subservience. He held on to her, struggling to make her rise.
‘You’re choking her,’ Clara said. ‘Nash. Nash, stop!’
She grabbed wildly at Nash’s mind, caught hold of it, lost it again; and decided in a fit of temper that she would fall unconscious before she kissed this man. Then, quite suddenly, Nash’s hand was wrenched from her throat by a new person she recognised. She took a great, relieved breath and pulled herself up by the windowpane.
Brigan’s voice was dangerously calm. ‘Musa, give us the room.’
The guard vanished. Brigan took a handful of Nash’s shirtfront and shoved him hard against the wall. ‘Look at what you’re doing,’ Brigan spat. ‘Clear your mind!’
‘Forgive me,’ Nash said, sounding genuinely aghast. ‘I lost my head. Forgive me, Lady.’
Nash tried to turn his face to Fire, but Brigan’s fist tightened around his collar and pressed against his throat to stop him. ‘If she’s going to be unsafe here I’ll take her away this instant. She’ll come south with me, do you understand?’
‘All right,’ Nash said. ‘All right.’
‘It’s not all right. This is her bedchamber. Rocks, Nash! Why are you even here?’
‘All right,’ Nash said, pushing at Brigan’s fist with his hands. ‘Enough. I see I was wrong. When I look at her, I lose my head.’
Brigan dropped his fist from his brother’s neck. Took a step back and rubbed his face with his hands. ‘Then don’t look at her,’ he said tiredly. ‘I have business with you before I go.’
‘Come to my office.’
Brigan cocked his head at the doorway. ‘I’ll meet you in five minutes’ time.’
Nash turned and slumped out of the room, banished. A puzzle of inconsistencies, this eldest of Nax’s sons, and the king in name; but which of these brothers was the king in practice?
‘Are you all right, Lady?’ Brigan asked, frowning after Nash.
Fire was not all right. She clutched her aching back. ‘Yes, Lord Prince.’
‘You can trust Clara, Lady,’ Brigan said, ‘and my brother Garan. And Welkley, and one or two of the king’s men that Clara can point you to. In the absence of Lord Archer I’d like to escort you home myself next time I pass north through the city. It’s a route I travel often. It shouldn’t be more than a few weeks. Is this acceptable to you?’
It was not acceptable; it was too long by far. But Fire nodded, swallowing painfully.
‘I must go,’ he said. ‘Clara knows how to