From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [41]
“My mother will see that you are cared for.”
Gren turned her eyes back to Vrell. “I don’t doubt your mother’s kindness, my lady, but she can’t watch me always. I’ll be safer in a war.”
“After all Master Rennan and Jax and Sir Rigil went through to bring you here?”
“Achan said he isn’t worried for me no more. He figures Lord Nathak has his hands full with other things. And if Achan’s not worried, I’m not worried.”
“But what of your parents? I am certain they would want to go with you.”
“They’re happy here.”
“But they will want to see their grandchild.”
“They can visit once the baby comes. But I can’t put my baby’s life in danger because Bran might come back someday. Please, my lady. Can’t I come with you to Sitna? I have friends there who’ll take me the rest of the way.”
The very idea stunned Vrell. “I do not plan to travel through Sitna.”
“It can’t be far out of your way. Please? I’ll serve you. I’ll cook for you.”
Vrell would not mind a companion or a cook. She was so far behind Jax and the others that it was dangerous for her to travel alone, though it was the road from Sitna to Mahanaim that truly frightened her. And she wouldn’t be able to ride as fast with Gren along.
“I am sorry, Gren, but I cannot take you with me. I must ride like the wind to catch up with Jax. As it is, they are a day ahead of me.”
“Then I’ll tell your mother you’ve gone.”
Vrell’s chin dropped. “You would blackmail me?”
A tear streamed down Gren’s cheek. “I don’t want to, my lady. But I’m desperate. Have mercy, I beg you.”
Vrell sighed. “Oh, very well. Run and get your things and meet me back here.”
Gren held up her sack. “I’ve no things to be getting. Just tell me which horse I can ride and we’ll be on our way.”
This foiled Vrell’s plan to ride off while Gren was packing her bag. Vrell was worried enough for her own safety. Two women riding alone—and one with child. It was more than foolish.
She heaved a long sigh. Vrell’s stick-like frame made her a believable boy, but it would take a masterpiece of disguise to make Gren’s curves look like those of a plump man. And that black dress would never do. Still, if anyone saw them from afar… She released her hold on Kopay. “We should find you some trousers and a man’s tunic before we go. It will be safer that way.”
P A R T 3
LESSONS
7
Achan lay on his back in a vineyard. The sky draped overhead like a cerulean tent. Leaves and vines rustled in a cool breeze that blew his hair across his face. He felt no pain.
Hadn’t he been wounded?
Perhaps he was in the Veil again. He tried to float off the ground, and he suddenly stood on the platform in Berland. Drums beat a low cadence that rumbled deep in his belly. Bodies danced around him in a blur of slow motion. All but one. A woman, clear and close, sang in a haunting voice.
View not my face, I am undone beside you
The beating of my heart will not cease
Whilst I am near you, whilst I am near you.
A jeweled tiara held her silky black hair in place. She wore a green gown as fine as any of Duchess Amal’s. Her skin was soft and white like the petal of a daisy. Her green eyes drew him in.
Vrell Sparrow.
He reached out for her but grasped nothing but air. Why couldn’t he get to her?
He opened his eyes to the frescoed ceiling of his chamber in Granton Castle. Pain stabbed his head like a gowzal’s bite. He took a deep breath and the stabs struck again, sharp and angry.
Trying to sit made it worse, so he lay still, gasping shallow breaths. His stomach churned, threatening to expel whatever might be inside. Nothing, if he went by memory, for he had not eaten before sneaking out.
He lay in his bed, shirtless, a blanket pulled up to his waist.
The stripe of sunlight that spilled through the door of his privy proved it daytime. But what hour? And what day?
Footsteps padded across the wooden floor, and Matthias’s brown eyes came into view.
“Matthias…” The room blurred, taking the boy’s face and blond hair and twisting them with