From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [49]
Vrell’s boredom tempted her to look through Achan’s eyes. She had never been capable of such, and the last time she tried he had sensed her. Instead, she looked in on Mother several times and found her busy coordinating supplies for Achan’s army or strolling around the castle with Sir Eagan.
It did not appear that Mother had noticed Vrell’s absence yet. Not surprising.
While they stopped for lunch, Gren urged Vrell to check on Bran’s progress.
“From the look of the land, they are still north of Allowntown. I pray Jax will linger there a day or two. For that is the only chance I have of catching up.”
Gren set down her figs. “If you’re so set on deserting Achan, it makes no sense for us to part in Sitna. I have two friends— strong men—that’ll escort me the rest of the way. Why not come with us? It’ll be safer.”
Vrell met Gren’s reproving gaze and wrung her hands. Stopping in Sitna would likely waste another day. But Jax was already so far ahead, perhaps travelling with Gren and her friends would be wisest.
It was late afternoon on the third day when Vrell and Gren arrived in Sitna, a small, brownstone castle surrounded by a dingy moat. Gren led her over the drawbridge to a long clapboard stable. They dismounted and took their horses in.
“Hello there.” A stray, tall and thin, walked toward them. The sight of his orange tunic brought back memories of Vrell’s time as a stray. How quickly she had forgotten the orange tunic in her weeks of comfort in Carmine.
“See here now,” Gren said, faking the low voice of a man. “We two men wanna put up our horses, and we want you to be quick about it, see?”
“I’d be happy to, sir.” The man stopped and squinted at Gren. “Gren?”
“Noam!” Gren rushed forward and embraced him.
He bent awkwardly to hug her short frame. “What are you doing here? Has your family returned? Why are you dressed like a man?”
Gren’s eyes glittered. “I’m in disguise. And I came without my parents. I couldn’t stay in Carmine any longer. It was horrible, Noam. You won’t believe what happened to me.”
“You must tell all.” Noam studied the mare beside Gren. “Including where you got such a fine horse.”
“Oh, forgive me!” Gren slid back to include Vrell in the conversation. “Lady Averella Amal, this is Noam Fox. The horses are hers, Noam. She’s in disguise too.”
Noam stared a long moment, his gaze taking in Vrell’s clothing, then he jerked into a low bow, his spine pressing against his thin tunic. “An honor, m’lady.”
Mercy. Did the poor man ever eat? Vrell hoped this was not one of the men intended to escort Gren to Armonguard. He did not look able to stand up to the weakest soldier.
“Noam is Sitna Manor’s stableman.”
“Don’t say such things, Gren. Oster will hear you.” Noam glanced around as if expecting this Oster person to charge out from one of the stalls and reprimand him. His worried gaze shifted to Vrell. “I’m the stable hand, m’lady. Nothing more than a stray.”
Vrell opened her mouth to speak, but Gren said, “You’re more of a stableman than Oster. You do all the work.”
Noam shifted his feet and lowered his voice. “Gren, please. Can we speak of this later?”
“We need to talk to you about why we’ve come. Can you take a break?”
“You know I can’t. What if we meet at the Corner tonight?”
Gren clapped her hands and jumped. “Oh, yes, we must. A brilliant plan, Noam. We need speak with Harnu too.”
Noam raised a dark eyebrow. “Reconsidered his offer, have you?”
Gren shoved Noam with both hands. “I most certainly have not, Noam Fox, you take that back!”
“Calm yourself,” Noam said, rubbing his chest. “It was just a question.”
“Which is all I want with Harnu. To ask a question. Where is he?”
“The armory, as usual.” Noam’s gaze bounced between Vrell and Gren. “Did you know Lord Levy has come?”
“To visit?” Vrell asked.
“To stay, it seems. Lord Nathak is preparing to move to Armonguard to assist Prince Gidon’s rule. Lord Levy came to replace