From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [104]
But Vrell Sparrow had saved him, removed arrows from his flesh, packed his wounds with spider’s webs and yarrow.
Averella frowned. What in all Er’Rets was yarrow?
Her mind tumbled through the scenes again. The real prince bore the mark of the stray on his shoulder, and his back carried more scars than she could ever imagine.
According to Gren, Averella had transported him to Mahanaim, tended his wounds and sat with him in his dungeon cell, nursing him back to health. Until the Great Whitewolf and his men had freed him. She had been torn over his departure from prison, missed his company.
And that was all Averella could remember.
She shook her head. Missing his company was not love. She pitied him for what Lord Nathak had done and for the horrible life he’d been forced to live. But pity and compassion were not love. Not romantic love, anyway.
Averella’s ears itched. She now knew this was a sign that someone was about to message with their bloodvoice.
Achan Cham.
Oh dear. Averella had hoped a few days might pass before he spoke to her again. If only she remembered more.
Yes, Your Highness?
Sparrow! How do you fare? Has your memory returned? I have been praying that Arman would restore it.
I am well, thank you. I have remembered only a small flash.
That’s a good sign, then, don’t you think? If you’ve remembered some, surely you’ll remember more.
Perhaps, though I do not expect it to happen soon. I have nearly a year’s-worth of memories to restore.
They’ll come. Have you decided what to do? Shall I send someone for you?
We are going to Mahanaim to free Master Rennan, Sir Rigil, and Sir Jax. We travel south along the King’s Road.
Mahanaim! It’s not safe. Esek’s soldiers patrol all of the King’s Road. Allow me to send men to escort you here.
Do not worry, Your Highness. Master Poe and Master Fox are with us. We travel under the guise of a merchant and his wife and their two servants fleeing Darkness.
Silence stretched on for a long moment before the prince said, Who is married to whom?
I am posing as Master Poe’s wife. Gren is—
Why him?
Master Poe is much more confident to pose as a merchant. And I am the logical choice over Gren.
I don’t like this, Sparrow. It sounds dangerous and involves Harnu. I should come for you myself.
Gren told me of your unpleasant history with Master Poe. I am sorry for that. But I assure you, Master Poe is no longer a brute. And without him we would surely—
Fine, Sparrow. Just take care. I’ll feel better once you are in camp with me again.
Averella winced. Your Highness, forgive me if I sound presumptive, but I must make myself clear. I have gleaned much from those around me about what transpired between us. I understand we did not part on good terms.
That was my fault. I—
Please allow me to finish. Without my memories of our time together, I think it would be best, for now, if we officially parted ways. You have plenty to concern yourself with, upcoming war and all. And I am responsible for Gren. Perhaps later, should my memory return, we might discuss how to proceed. I do not wish to be cruel, but my reputation has already been tainted due to my falsehoods. For that I apologize. Let us have no more communication for now. We shall each do our duty to Arman and Er’Rets. And later, should Arman will it, we can speak again. What say you?
What say I? Sparrow, I cannot stomach your formal tirades. And now you no longer wish to communicate? Am I really that horrible of a conversationalist?
Of course not, Your Highness. Bother. He had taken her words more harshly than she had meant them. But in light of our past… it would be wise to tread carefully. I cannot pretend to care for you when I do not recall ever doing so, especially since you do not know who I really am. And I do not wish to mislead you in hoping my feelings may rekindle. For at the moment, I have no feelings for you at all.
I see. Very well, then, Miss Sparrow.