The Kiss of Deception (34 page)

None of them seemed to notice me enter, and then I realized they didn’t know it was me. With a bath, a beaded scarf on my head, and the colorful clothes, I wasn’t the filthy wild girl who had arrived in camp earlier today. The women set two of the trays down in front of the men, then took the third to the corner where the pillows were piled high and sat there together. I remained standing, staring at my captors, who feasted and laughed, throwing their heads back with bellows like they were in a king’s court without a care in the world. It was a nettle in my saddle. I had a care—a little thing called
my life.
I wanted them to have a care too.

I groaned, and the laughter stopped. Heads turned. I fluttered my lashes as if I saw something. Kaden stared at me, trying to regain focus, and he finally realized who I was. His face flushed, and he cocked his head to the side, as if he was taking a second look to decide whether it was really me.

“What is it?” Finch asked.

My eyes rolled upward, and I grimaced.

“
Osa azen te kivada
,” Griz said to the man at his side.
The gift.

Malich said nothing, but his eyes roamed leisurely over my new attire.

Kaden scowled. “What now?” he asked, short on patience.

I waited, poised, until they all sat a little higher.

“Nothing,” I said unconvincingly and went to sit with the women. I felt like I was back in the tavern using a new set of skills to control the unruly patrons. Gwyneth would love this one. My performance was enough to considerably dampen their spirits, at least for a while, and that was enough to brighten mine. I ate my fill, remembering that each bite might be the one that sustained me through another mile in the wilderness once I was free of them.

I tried to appear engaged in the women’s talk, but I listened intently to the men as they resumed their conversation. They continued to eat and drink, mostly drink, and their lips became looser.

“
Ade ena ghastery?
”

“
Jah!
” Malich said and tossed his head in my direction. “
Osa ve verait andel acha ya sah kest!
”

They all laughed, but then their talk turned quieter and more secretive, only a few words whispered loudly enough for me to hear.

“
Ne ena hachetatot chadaros … Mias wei … Te ontia lo besadad.
”

They spoke of trails and patrols, and I leaned closer, straining to hear more.

Kaden caught me listening. He fixed his gaze on me and said quite loudly over the others, “
Osa’r e enand vopilito Gaudrella. Shias wei hal … le diamma camman ashea mika e kisav.
” The men hooted, lifting their horns to Kaden, then went back to their conversations, but Kaden’s eyes remained focused on me, unblinking, waiting for me to react.

My heart skipped. I worked to show no reaction, to maintain my naïve indifferent stare and pretend I didn’t know what he said, but I finally had to look away, feeling my face grow hot. When someone has announced that he thinks you make a beautiful vagabond and he wants to kiss you, it’s hard to feign ignorance. He chose the perfect words for his little test to confirm his suspicions. I looked back at my food, trying to will the color from my cheeks. I finished my meal without looking in his direction again and then asked Reena if she could show me to her wagon.

*   *   *

As we approached the
carvachi
at the end of the camp, I noticed Dihara walking away from it. On the steps was a small book, a very old one, and with a quick glance, I saw that it was all handwritten. I scooped it up and let Reena show me into her colorful wagon.

It seemed far larger inside than it appeared from the outside. She showed me every convenience it contained, but the biggest attraction was the bed at the back. Lush with color, pillows, draperies, and tasseled trim, it looked like something from a storybook. I pushed down on the mattress, and my hand disappeared into a soft magical cloud.

Reena grinned. She was pleased with my reaction. I couldn’t resist running my hand along the hanging golden tassels and watching them shiver at my touch. My eyes grazed every detail of the bed like I was a starving sheep let loose in a pasture of clover.

She gave me a nightgown to wear and left, offering her own unique blessing as she went down the steps, knocking the door frame with her knuckles. “May the gods grant you a still heart, heavy eyes, and angels guarding your door.”

As soon as she left, I plopped down on the mattress, promising myself I would never again take a soft bed for granted, nor a roof over my head. I was beyond exhausted, but I didn’t want to sleep yet, preferring instead to immerse myself in the luxury of the
carvachi.
I looked at the numerous trinkets Reena had hung on the walls, including several of the strange ribbed flagons of the Ancients, one of the few artifacts still found in abundance.

I wondered about all the lands this small band of nomads had traveled through, many more places than I could even imagine, though it seemed like I had seen half the continent by now. I thought about my father, who never left Civica. He didn’t even visit half his own realm of Morrighan, much less the vast territories beyond. Of course, he did have his Eyes of the Realm to convey the world to him.
Spies. They’re everywhere, Lia.

Not here. One good thing about being in this far-flung wilderness was that I was at least out of the clutches of the Chancellor and Scholar. It wasn’t likely that a bounty hunter would ever find me here.

But neither would Rafe.

It hit me afresh that I’d never see him again.
The good ones don’t run away, Lia.
He hadn’t exactly run, but he had seemed ready to move on with his life. It didn’t take much to convince him that I had to go. I had brooded over his reaction beyond reason. I was too numb and grieved at the time to fully take it in, but I had had a lot of time to think about it since.
Reflection
, my mother always called it when we were ordered to our bedchambers for some perceived infraction. My reflections told me he was grieved too.
Let me think.
But then just as quickly he had said,
I’ll meet you for one last good-bye.
His grieving was short-lived. Mine was not.

I had tried not to think about him after leaving Terravin, but I couldn’t control my dreams. In the middle of the night, I would feel his lips brushing mine, his arms strong around me, his whispers in my ear, our bodies pressed close, his eyes looking into mine as if I was all that mattered in the world to him.

I shook my head and sat up. As Kaden had said, it wasn’t good to dwell on maybes. Maybes could be twisted into things that never really existed. For Rafe I was probably already a distant memory.

I had to concentrate on the present, the real and true. I grabbed the thin, soft nightgown Reena had let me borrow and put it on. A nightgown was another luxury I would never again take for granted.

I browsed the book Dihara had left for me and curled up on the bed with it. It appeared to be a child’s primer in Gaudrian to teach several of the kingdoms’ languages, including Morrighese and Vendan. I compared it to the book I had stolen from the Scholar. The languages weren’t exactly the same, just as I suspected.
Ve Feray Daclara au Gaudrel
was hundreds, maybe even thousands, of years older, but the primer revealed what some of the strange letters were, and there were enough similarities to the present language that I could translate some words with confidence. My fingers gently slid over the page as I read it, feeling the centuries hidden within.

Journey’s end. The promise. The hope.

                  
Tell me again, Ama. About the light.

I search my memories. A dream. A story. A blurred remembrance.

I was smaller than you, child.

The line between truth and sustenance unravels. The need. The hope. My own grandmother telling stories to fill me because there was nothing more. I look at this child, windlestraw, a full stomach not even visiting her dreams. Hopeful. Waiting. I pull her thin arms, gather the feather of flesh into my lap.

Once upon a time, my child, there was a princess no bigger than you. The world was at her fingertips. She commanded, and the light obeyed. The sun, moon, and stars knelt and rose at her touch. Once upon a time …

Gone. Now there is only this golden-eyed child in my arms. That is what matters. And the journey’s end. The promise. The hope.

Come, my child. It’s time to go.

Before the scavengers come.

The things that last. The things that remain. The things I dare not speak to her.

I’ll tell you more as we walk. About before.

Once upon a time …

It seemed more like a diary or a tale to be told around a campfire—an embellished story of a princess who commanded the light? But it was also a sad tale of hunger. Were Gaudrel and this child sojourners? The first vagabonds? And who or what were the scavengers? Why would the Scholar be afraid of a storyteller? Unless Gaudrel told more than stories to this child. Maybe that was what the rest of the book would reveal.

As much as I wanted to keep studying the puzzling words, my eyes were closing against my will. I set the books aside and was rising to turn off the lantern when I heard stumbling on the steps outside and Kaden burst through the door. He tripped and grabbed the wall to regain his balance.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Making sure you’re comfortable.” His head bobbed, and his words were slow and slurred.

I moved forward to push him back out, which looked to be a simple task, but he slammed the door shut and pushed me up against it. He leaned against the door, pinning me between his arms, and looked at me, his pupils large, his dark eyes trying to focus.

“You’re drunk,” I said.

He blinked. “Maybe.”

“There’s no maybe about it.”

He grinned. “It’s
tradition.
I can’t insult my hosts. You understand about tradition, don’t you, Lia?”

“Do you always get this stinking drunk when you come here?”

His sloppy grin faded, and he leaned closer. “Not always. Never.”

“What’s the matter? You’re feeling guilty this time and hope the God of Grain will absolve you?”

His brows pulled down. “I don’t feel guilty about
anything.
I’m a soldier and you’re a … a … you’re one of them. A royal. You’re all the same.”

“And you
know
so many.”

A snarl crept across his lip. “You and your visions. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

I was doing exactly what
he
would do in my position—trying to survive. Did he expect to drag me across the continent and have me politely follow?

I smiled. “They don’t know what I’m doing. That’s all that matters. And you won’t tell them.”

He brought his face closer to mine. “Don’t be so sure. You’re— I’m one of
them.
I’m Vendan. Don’t forget that.”

How could I forget? But it seemed useless to argue with him. He could barely speak without stumbling over his words—and his face was getting far too close to mine.

“Kaden, you need to—”

“You’re too smart for your own good, you know that? You knew what I said in there. You know what all of us say—”

“Your barbaric gibberish? How would I know? I don’t even care. Get out, Kaden!” I tried to push him away, but he slumped against me, his face buried in my hair, every muscle of his body pressing close to mine. I couldn’t breathe.

“I heard you,” he whispered in my ear. “That night. I heard you tell Pauline that you found me attractive.”

His hand reached up and touched my hair. He gathered the strands in his hand and squeezed them, and then he whispered into my ear the same words he’d said in the tent—and more. My temples pounded. His breath was hot on my cheek as he spoke, and his lips brushed my neck, lingering.

He leaned back, and I caught my breath. “You’re not—” He swayed, his eyes losing focus. “For your own good too.…” He stumbled to the side, catching the wall. “Now I have to sleep on—lookout,” he said, pushing me aside. “I’m going to sleep right outside your wagon. Because I don’t trust you. Lia. You’re too—” His eyelids drooped. “And now Malich.”

He fell back against the door, his eyes closed, and he slid to the floor, still sitting upright. All I had to do was open the door and he’d tumble out backward, but with my luck, he’d break his neck going down the steps, and I’d be left with Malich to deal with.

I stared at him passed out, his head lolling to the side. Some protection he’d be against Malich, but the whole lot of them were probably just as stupid drunk by now.

I pulled the lace curtain aside and opened the shuttered window. Now might be an opportune time to run if they were all like this, but I saw Malich, Griz, and Finch over near the horses. They still looked sure enough on their feet. Maybe Kaden had been telling the truth and he wasn’t used to so much drink. At the tavern, he had always been careful and composed, never having more than two ciders. I could drink that many without feeling a thing. What had made him drink so much tonight?

I closed the shutter and looked back at Kaden, his mouth hanging open. I smiled, thinking about how his head would feel in the morning. I grabbed a pillow from Reena’s bed and threw it on the floor next to him, then pushed on his shoulder. He fell onto the pillow, never stirring.

It was true. I had told Pauline that I thought he was attractive. He was fit, muscular, and as Gwyneth pointed out more than once, very easy on the eyes. I had also shared that I found his demeanor captivating, grave and calming at the same time. He had intrigued me. But Pauline and I were inside the cottage when we had talked about him. Had he been spying on us? Listening at the window?
He’s an assassin
, I reminded myself. What else should I expect? I tried to remember the other things Pauline and I had talked about.
My gods, what else had he heard?

I sighed. I couldn’t worry about that now.