Chapter 15
The big sergeant seethed, muscles taut as they strained for freedom, but Vorik, with strength enhanced by his dragon bond, kept him subdued.
Irritated that the bodyguard kept popping up, he didn’t manage to keep a neutral expression on his face, and he read the concern in Syla’s eyes as she watched them.
“Release me,” the sergeant snarled.
What was his name? Fel. That was it.
“I haven’t attacked you,” Fel added.
“Because you didn’t see me.” For the princess’s sake, Vorik smoothed his face and made his tone light. Well, maybe lightly sardonic. “Not because you didn’t want to.”
“That’s the truth,” Fel muttered and again strained against Vorik’s grip.
“If I let you go, will you refrain from attacking me?”
Vorik doubted it. The bodyguard was casting longing looks at the mace lying in the grass beside the path.
For an answer, Fel snarled.
Nobly tamping down his irritation, Vorik looked to Syla for help or at least a suggestion of how to go forward.
He’d been listening in on their conversation and had heard that the aunt Syla sought was on the premises.
Though she hadn’t explained her interest in finding the woman to Vorik, he believed it had something to do with repairing the shielder, or perhaps finding another one.
Could the aunt be one of those entrusted with the locations?
Vorik doubted it could be repaired—even if it hadn’t been completely destroyed when he’d been there with Syla, the man he’d left alive in the chamber would have finished it off.
Once Syla learned that, she would continue on with the next part of what he believed to be her quest: heading to another island to retrieve another shielder to bring back.
Vorik would find a way to accompany her and achieve what his brother wished.
Either he could destroy it, robbing another gardener island of its defense, or he could mark its location and relay it to Jhiton.
That would be ideal and allow Vorik to continue to appear to be a friendly protector to Syla.
Through her, he might locate even more of the shielders.
It was exactly what the general wanted, and the thought should have pleased Vorik.
But he couldn’t help but feel regret that he would have to betray Syla.
Multiple times if his people got their way.
Unfortunate, but… he would do his duty, as he always had.
Too much was at stake for him to let concern about a woman divert him.
“Maybe you can explain to the sergeant that I’m not a captive,” Syla suggested, looking intently at Vorik, her eyes silently asking if that was true.
“You’re not my captive.” Vorik tilted his chin toward her wrist where Fel had gripped her. “I’m less certain about whether your bodyguard is giving you any freedom.”
“I’m here to protect her, not imprison her.” Fel spat in exasperation. “Release me, and face me like an honorable man so I can do my duty and slay you.”
The suggestion that Vorik wasn’t being honorable vexed him anew. He’d merely wanted to get Fel away from Syla before starting a confrontation so she wouldn’t be hurt.
Still, the appeal to his honor always got to him. He released Fel and stepped back, bracing himself to be attacked again.
Fel snatched up his mace but backed toward Syla, as if to defend her from Vorik. As if that was necessary.
Vorik clenched his jaw, but he reminded himself that the man was Syla’s bodyguard.
Since Vorik’s goal was to keep Syla alive while he learned the location of all the shielders…
he should want the man here as backup. He had a feeling, though, that having the bodyguard along would cause nothing but trouble.
He would far prefer to be alone with Syla.
“Your last fight with him didn’t go well,” she whispered to the sergeant.
Fel didn’t look like that would stop him from trying to knock Vorik’s head off. “We’re not letting an enemy trail along with us.”
Syla eased down the steps to stand at his side. Though bespectacled, in a torn dress, and a head shorter than the man, she didn’t hesitate to reach out and push Fel’s mace arm down. His eyes narrowed, but he did let her do so.
“I wouldn’t suggest letting an enemy trail along either,” Vorik said.
“But I’m not an enemy to you. As I told you before, I’m here to protect the princess.
” Then he offered something he’d managed to keep safe in his hand while jumping from the roof and restraining the bodyguard.
Since the treasure was fragile, it had taken quite the effort to do so. “Strawberry, Sergeant?”
“What?” Fel asked in a flat tone, though he couldn’t have missed seeing the offering.
“I sampled a few while you were skulking in the kitchen and whispering to the princess. They are amazing. So sweet and juicy.” Vorik eyed the large berry, thinking of retracting the offer and popping it into his mouth.
Fel eyed it like it would be poisoned.
“Maybe you should eat it, Vorik,” Syla suggested. “You paid enough for the fruit you took—though the hypothetical sheep is more questionable—and you’re… Well, your people are all so lean. Maybe you could use some sweets.”
That was the gods-known truth. If only leanness was where it ended. His people needed the nourishment that these islands provided.
Fel shifted his suspicious eyes from the strawberry to Syla. He probably didn’t want the princess sympathizing with rider leanness.
Vorik walked closer, aware of Fel tensing but not letting it deter him, and offered the strawberry to Syla. “I’ve had my fill. You take it if he won’t.”
“I… all right.” She accepted it and smiled at Fel, as if to say, I’ll show you that it’s not poisoned, and nibbled a bite from the bottom.
Vorik approved of the sign of trust, since it boded well for his mission, but he caught himself watching her lips more closely than he should have as she chewed, then ate the second half of the berry, the pink of her tongue briefly visible.
He knew she didn’t mean anything erotic by the way she ate, but his libido found the sight quite interesting regardless.
With the scowling sergeant standing beside them, Vorik made himself look away and step back.
“I’ll accompany you to find your aunt. It sounded like your bodyguard needs help with whatever barricade the…
I gather somewhat aged woman put in place.
” He couldn’t keep from smirking his amusement that the sergeant hadn’t been able to handle the situation.
Syla frowned at him. “Aunt Tibby is in her fifties and doesn’t seem aged at all to me. She’s smart, a hard worker, and resourceful. I’m sure there’s more than a chair leaned up against a doorknob.”
Vorik bowed an apology. Maybe he’d meant to take a dig at the sergeant, but he didn’t want to offend Syla.
“She has a pack of magical machinery guarding her,” Fel said. “I’d never spoken to the woman before this, but I can already tell resourceful is an understatement.”
“There’s a reason I want to find her.” Syla stepped past Fel and Vorik to lead the way.
Fel rushed to follow right behind her, glowering at Vorik, as if that would keep him away from her if Vorik chose to make an issue of their walking order.
He did not. Besides, he’d received an update from Agrevlari on the deliciousness of the not one but two sheep—and a goat—that the dragon had hunted down and was in the process of devouring.
Before following Syla, Vorik left most of his month’s salary on the porch for the aunt or whoever did the books for the farm.