Chapter 33
TRYSTAN
Eight-and-a-Half Months Later
“Here you are. One ‘Definitely Not Dragon’ platter, fresh out of the pan,” a sultry voice said, laying a heaving plate of roasted veal, crispy, golden potatoes and mashed peas down in front of me.
“This looks grand, thanks,” I said, stomach rumbling and mouth already watering. After the last several months—surviving the Wretch’s attack on Ember Ridge and transporting a traitor around the country—this was the meal I deserved.
The barmaid leaned against the table, eyeing me up as she passed me a knife and fork. “Anything else I can grab you?”
I stared at her, brow arched with interest, food momentarily forgotten. She was gorgeous, wasn’t she? And I was off duty. I drained my tankard. “Now that you mention it, another ale would be lovely.”
She took up my empty tankard, flashing me a wink. “Coming right up.”
I grinned after her, appreciating the view as she walked away while relishing the moment she returned. I popped a chunk of veal in my mouth. I might currently be on thin ice with the captain, but it looked like my night had just very much improved.
“Frixsar!” a voice snapped.
I fought the grimace as veal flattened between my teeth.
That wasn’t a voice I’d been expecting to hear any time soon.
And just when I thought I might actually start enjoying myself.
I glanced over my shoulder, schooling my features into something respectably appropriate.
“Corrine,” I said. “How I’ve missed your scowling face. ”
“That’s Lieutenant Aguilar to you,” she said, striding over to my table.
Of course. Corrine and her bloody promotion—the promotion that should have been mine! Don’t roll your eyes, I reminded myself. “I take it you missed me?” I said. “Is that why you’ve come all this way for a visit?”
“Ha!” Corrine dropped down on the other side of the table, heaving a sigh as she threw down her leather gloves.
Her hair was windswept like she’d just stepped off her horse.
“One job, Frixsar. All you had to do was deliver a measly old man to the outpost. How did you manage to lose him? He can’t be that quick on his feet. ”
I frowned at her. “You’re kidding, right? Do you not know what I’ve been doing these past months?”
“Your job?” she quipped. She sobered briefly, giving me a look of sympathy. “I heard the mountain pass was rough. I’m sorry.”
The barmaid returned with my drink, sizing up Corrine.
I gave her a wink and a cheeky grin before she walked away, then lifted my tankard in memory of the injured soldiers.
I lowered it and Corrine’s expression softened.
Ah, there was my friend—the woman I’d survived years of training and rubbish patrol shifts with.
“It was. So excuse me for losing track of one past-his-prime healer. Does the king not have bigger problems at hand?”
“A traitor is always a concern,” Corrine muttered, waving off my comment. “You let one get away with something, next thing you know, you have a whole uprising on your hands.”
I stuffed potatoes in my mouth. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.
I turned around for one second and the man slipped off into the woods.
He’ll probably die out there from the elements.
” That wasn’t exactly what had happened.
But the truth of it was between me, Gunther, and the traveling wagon I’d put him on while my section slept one evening.
What did it matter anyway? We’d been traveling with Gunther for so long while we pursued the Wretch again, was it really that much of a surprise that he might have escaped?
If my captain was that concerned, he should have had Gunther taken directly to the capital in the first place. Instead, he’d decided to keep an experienced healer around during our tasking in case of any more dragon-related injuries.
“Is that the story you’re going with?” Corrine asked, arching her eyebrow. “Because it sounds like a pile of rubbish to me.”
“That’s what happened,” I insisted.
“Might want to work on it before we have to talk to the company commander. After the disaster with the Wretch, he’s not going to take too kindly—”
“Uh-uh!” I said, shaking my finger at her.
“The Wretch was not my fault. That was a team failure. In fact, I was the one repeatedly saying we needed to take more precautions.” I stuffed another piece of veal into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“Actually, wasn’t your section the one that was supposed to be coming to aid ours?
We called for more help transporting the beast. So where were you, hmm? ”
A sheepish look appeared and disappeared in a flash. “We got waylaid.”
“What was that?” I asked.
Corrine harrumphed. “My section is filled with newly graduated bumbling idiots. Most of which have never left the capital gardens,” she griped. “I don’t know what more you expect from me.”
“That sounds like a you problem, Lieutenant.”
She grimaced. “Well, it’s about to be your problem. The commander has ordered you to right your wrong. I’m to supervise.”
Supervise? Not happening. “I don’t need your supervision.”
“You clearly do. It’s time to let someone bolder and wiser take charge.”
I snorted. “What exactly is your plan? Shall we start turning over stones in the woods? Checking behind logs? If we set out a platter of veal and a tankard of ale, perhaps we’ll entice old Gunther into our trap.”
“I’ll do you one better.” Corrine reached into her satchel, slapping a rough sketch of Gunther down on the table between us. “Sources say he’s been spotted.”
“Where?”
“Bridgewater.”
“You mean the Bridgewater along the border?” I said, my throat going dry. Old man, what are you doing over there? Haven’t you heard the rumors of the plague? “I thought that town had been placed under quarantine? No one goes in or out while the sickness runs unchecked.”
“Travelers,” Corrine corrected me. “Travelers are forbidden to enter. Last time I checked, we were kingsguard.” She yanked my plate away from me, stealing a potato. “Sleep tight, Frixsar. We leave at dawn to collect your healer.”
I dragged the plate back in front of me. “Just because you got promoted doesn’t mean you’re the boss of me.”
She gave me a sly grin. “That’s exactly what it means. Also, you should shave. You look a mess.”
I glanced down the pub to the beautiful barmaid, sighing heavily. So much for my good time.
* * *