From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [71]
Sir Eagan reached out and gripped her elbow. “A moment, my lady, please?”
She stopped, her gaze locked on the floor.
Sir Eagan stared at Achan, one eyebrow quirked. “Shung is waiting for you outside, Your Majesty. I shall meet you in the foyer momentarily.”
Oh. Sir Eagan and Duchess Amal wanted a private farewell. Achan’s cheeks burned. “Of course.” He grabbed his belt and sword and exited his chamber for the last time.
Achan walked toward the stairs with Shung, buckling Ôwr around his waist as he went.
Shung’s heavy footsteps matched his stride. “You are bothered.”
“It’s Sparrow. She’s… stormed.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
They walked downstairs. Every step of the way Achan wanted to reach for Sparrow. He fought the urge, for a pair of broken legs would not provide her a worthy hero.
When Achan and Shung descended the grand staircase, they found Kurtz, Sir Caleb, and Inko waiting in the foyer. Lady Gypsum and one of her little sisters stood beside a broad shouldered man dressed in a surcoat that had once been white. Three interlocking circles were embroidered on the front in dull red thread. His brown leather boots resembled the tattered pair Noam had given Achan for his coming-of-age gift. He stood with one hand on the curling end of the balustrade, slouched as if he’d rather be elsewhere. He had short, dark hair, and a scruff of a beard and mustache, as if he had forgotten to shave for several days.
Achan reached the foot of the stairs, expecting to be introduced to the mysterious stranger, but Lady Gypsum stepped forward and curtsied.
“Good day, Your Highness.”
“My lady.” Achan nodded to Lady Gypsum, then to her little sister, who grinned, revealing two missing front teeth.
Lady Gypsum met his eyes then looked away, a flush darkening her cheeks. “I wanted to… to thank you again for helping me in the vineyard the other morning.” Her gaze continued to dart to and from his. “If it weren’t for you, I…” She dropped her focus to the marble floor, her eyelashes casting curling shadows on her cheeks.
Achan couldn’t be certain, but Lady Gypsum appeared to have dressed differently this day. She wore a more womanly gown and what he first thought had been flushed cheeks, now appeared to be pink powder of some kind. He pushed the awkward realization from his mind and sought a formal and honest way to respond to her appreciation. “Think no more of what the consequences might have been, Lady Gypsum. Arman spared us both that day.”
The dark-haired man raised his eyebrows and smirked. Achan glanced at the door, wanting only to be in his wagon. Sparrow was lost. He didn’t have time for these niceties.
“We’ll miss you, Your Highness,” the small Amal girl said.
Achan berated himself for not recalling her name. Sir Caleb—?
Lady Terra, the duchess’s second youngest girl.
Thank you. He bowed. “And I you, Lady Terra.”
“Your Highness,” Sir Caleb cut in, to Achan’s relief. “Please welcome Toros Ianjo to our company. He will serve you as a priest of The Way.”
Achan tried to keep his face passive, but Sir Caleb’s words were the furthest from what he had expected this man to be, though the interlocking circles should have tipped him off. He nodded at the priest. “Pleased to know you.”
Sir Caleb ushered them out into a sunny day. It was the first time Achan had stepped outside since he was struck down. He glanced at the fluffy white clouds, wondering if Sparrow were lost among them. They hurried through the inner bailey, the outer bailey, and finally out the gatehouse. Achan sensed conflicting emotions in the surrounding crowd. He kept his shields firmly in place. At the moment, he didn’t have time to worry about whether these people liked him or not.
North to south, thousands of soldiers on horseback and hundreds of wagons and carts stretched out in a line from one horizon to the other. Flags dotted the line, waving in the breeze. Most were banners of Armonguard, though Achan could see some Zerah Rock standards to the north.
Achan’s wagon