From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [52]
What if He wanted Vrell to marry Achan?
Arman, am I mistaken? Does Achan follow you?
ASK HIM.
Vrell gasped and sank to one of the chairs at the table. Never before had she heard such a clear word from Arman. It brought an overwhelming wave of heat and humility.
Had Achan committed his heart to Arman? Accepted Câan’s sacrifice? The heat faded, and goose bumps popped over Vrell’s arms. When would she have the chance to ask him now?
She could always… No. Not that.
Gren’s raised voice drew Vrell back to the present. “We’re leaving in the morning. May Cetheria deal harshly with you if you let us go alone and we’re killed.” Gren stormed out of the cottage, slamming the door behind her.
Vrell jumped. Her gaze shot to Harnu. The man’s face had paled, and he gripped the mantle as if he might fall over without its support.
Vrell stood and smoothed her tunic. “Master Poe, had I known the details of your situation, I would have encouraged Gren toward another plan. I would never ask you to abandon your father for our foolish quest. Do not burden yourself further. I shall see that Gren is safe. Forgive us for wasting your time.” Vrell curtsied and walked to the door.
Harnu crossed the room, his steps three strikes on an anvil. His strong hand gripped her wrist. “Who are you?”
She swallowed, her pity for him lost in her sudden fear. “I do not know that I can trust you.”
He released her, stepped back. “You’ve nothing to fear.”
“Very well.” Arman help her if this was a mistake. “I am Lady Averella Amal of Carmine.”
He bowed his head. “Forgive me, m’lady. I should not have touched you so.”
Vrell relaxed, thankful for the sudden appearance of manners. “You are forgiven, Master Poe. I can tell your mind is on other matters at present.”
“You’re not safe in Sitna. Soldiers are looking for you.”
“We have made plans to meet Master Noam this evening. At a corner, I believe it is called.”
“Noam?” His dark gaze searched hers. “Why?”
“I think Gren plans to ask him to accompany us on our journey as well.”
Harnu laughed. “Noam knows nothing ’bout protecting two ladies.”
“Be that as it may, we hope to leave tomorrow.”
Harnu stepped to the door. “I must return to Father. Stay here ’til tonight. No one will bother you here.”
“I thank you, Master Poe, for your kindness. We are indebted to you.”
Harnu left. Vrell peeked out the door to see him stop before Gren, who stood in the lane between the other two cottages. Harnu spoke to her, bowed, and stalked off.
Mercy.
Gren glanced to where Vrell stood in the doorway. “What’ll we do if Harnu won’t come? Noam’s the one I expect to say no, him being a stray and all.”
“Gren…” But what could Vrell say? Lecture the girl for being heartless to poor Harnu? As if Vrell had any right to comment on that. “Come inside before you are seen.”
But Gren turned the other way. “I’ll fetch us some dresses first.”
“Harnu said we should stay hidden, and I agree.”
“But if we’re going to the Corner tonight, my black dress and your fancy gown won’t do. I’ll find plain ones that’ll help us blend in.”
“I suppose you must.” For Vrell could not go looking for dresses, nor could she parade about in her green one.
Vrell shut the door and paced the cottage, admiring the little touches she suspected were from Harnu’s hands. Polished clapboard shutters covered each window and were held in place with decorative iron hinges molded into scrolls and leaves. A circular iron candelabra with vines and flowers hung from a thick iron chain overhead. And a dozen intricately painted pewter toy figures stood on the mantle. Vrell picked up a white lamb and smiled at his tiny black face. There were horses, cows, sheep, and pigs. A chicken and rooster. Vrell picked up the figure of a girl with chestnut hair and knew immediately that it was Gren.
How did Harnu find paint the color of Gren’s hair?
A noise sent Vrell spinning around. Harnu walked in the cottage, arms laden with bundles. “Sorry for startling you, m’lady. Thought you might be hungry.