Chapter 25
Lilias
ON ZAREK’S BEHALF
“Come on,” Alia says as we lead our horses out of the stable. “I’ve got something to show you.”
I’m about to ask if she’s going to challenge me to another race, but one look at the horse she’s leading makes me rethink the question.
The stallion who beat me earlier has developed a slight limp, and today, Alia is leading a young gelding who looks incredibly nervous.
He might be able to beat the bitchy mare I’ve grown quite fond of, but I’d say there’s an even chance he’d throw Alia into the dirt and bolt for the hills.
We climb into our saddles as Alia fills me in on the stallion’s treatment regimen.
I’ve been coming down here most afternoons to help where I can.
At first, the stable hands treated me like they might treat a stray dog who wandered into the barn; cautiously, and like I might bite.
Now, after almost two weeks of visiting, they’re slightly less hostile. Slightly.
It’s fair, I have to admit as I follow Alia up one of the winding trails that lead into the mountains.
The stable hands have no idea who I am or what I want out of their horses.
For all they know, I’m the type of noblewoman who will drive a horse into the ground, or ignore a limp, or get thrown and then blame the trainer.
Hells, they have every reason to be cautious.
Still, it’s hard to be in a place that feels so familiar, surrounded by the sounds and smells of a working stable, and be treated like an inconvenience. Anura says it will just take time.
Well, the gods know I have plenty of that.
Alia’s gelding kicks and snorts at nothing. She murmurs to him as he puts his ears back at a sapling on the side of the trail. I wait, and Alia gives the gelding plenty of time to investigate the suspicious tree.
“What are you going to show me?” I ask. “Do I get a hint?”
Alia grins at me. “It’s from your husband.”
The mare tenses below me as I stiffen in the saddle.
I’ve hardly seen Zarek since I woke up in our bed to find him bleeding in the dark.
I told him to replace the bandage every night, or to let me replace it, but that was the last time we spoke.
If he’s set foot in our room since that evening, it hasn’t been when I’m there.
I have no idea where he’s spending his nights. Or with whom.
Not that it matters. I swallow hard and sit up straight in the saddle. I’m not foolish enough to expect fidelity in a royal marriage, and his absence doesn’t bother me. But what in the hells could Alia have to show me?
Alia’s gelding apparently decides the sapling’s threat has been neutralized, and he huffs with relief.
Alia guides him back onto the trail and begins a steady trot.
I follow her, and together, we loop in and out of the forest. The little pond winks in the distance, reflecting the thick afternoon sunlight.
Alia leads me past the pond, then stops at a narrow spur trail.
“See that tree?” Alia asks, pointing at a massive pine with a thick trunk. “The one that looks like it has tits?”
I snort a laugh before I can stop myself. “Really?”
Alia laughs. “It does, though, doesn’t it?”
The thick pine tree does have two almost symmetrical galls on its trunk. I suppose, if you squint and really use your imagination, they could almost look like breasts.
“Okay,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“That’s your landmark,” Alia says. “Turn up the hill at the tits. You can make it this far on your own next time, right?”
“Sure,” I answer.
With that, Alia clucks and turns the gelding up the narrow spur trail. There’s a tense couple of minutes as the horse confronts a funny-shaped rock on the side of the trail, but Alia calms him, and after ascending another set of hills, we emerge in a small meadow.
“Oh!” I say, the exclamation slipping out before I can stop it.
The little meadow is ringed with aspens, and their tiny, new leaves dance in the breeze.
Below them, bright shoots of grass poke through the carpet of last year’s fallen leaves.
And for just a moment, I’m back in Marion, riding through the mountains that border Vsenrog, watching spring slowly cede its ground to the long, hot days of summer.
I blink, then wipe my eyes as Alia dismounts. She pats her nervous gelding as I slide out of the saddle. My back aches in a low, familiar way.
“We’re here,” Alia calls.
I have enough time to wonder who she could possibly be talking to, and then a man emerges from the far end of the clearing.
He’s tall, with dark hair and skin, and he moves like a soldier. He’s smiling, and he’s holding both of his hands out in front of his chest, like he’s trying to prove he’s unarmed.
My heart tries to climb the back of my throat. Alia said she had a present from my husband. What in the fuck—
“Lilias, this is Petrys,” Alia says, nodding at the man. “Petrys is Zarek’s— friend.”
She hesitated. I wonder what she was going to say, the word that she replaced with friend. My throat feels tight as I stare at the man who is obviously a soldier and who just came out of the woods, miles from the palace, on a side trail that looks like it’s hardly ever used.
I thought I could trust Alia.
I didn’t think she was a friend, I’m not that naive, but I thought I’d be safe with her. I thought she had no reason to hurt me.
I step back slightly, then put my hand on the mare’s neck. If I need to, I can outrun them.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Petrys says with a smile. He has a low, deep voice that reminds me of the snake.
“I’m charmed,” I reply. “Do you care to tell me what you’re doing here?”
Alia laughs. Petrys just smiles.
“I’m here on Zarek’s behalf,” he says.
I swallow hard. If my husband is trying to murder me, he’s going to be sorely disappointed when I survive.
“I’m going to teach you how to fight,” Petrys finishes.
My mouth drops open. “What?”
“Fight,” Petrys says again, as if that answers my question. “Zarek says you’ve had some training. That’s good. We’ll build on that.”
“I— What?” I stammer.
Alia walks up to me and gently takes the mare’s reins from my hands. Petrys beckons me closer as Alia leads both horses out of the meadow.
“Come on,” he says. “Show me what you know.”
“I— I don’t—”
He lunges forward, reaching for my wrist. Elrick’s lessons come back to me in a rush, and I spin, twisting out of reach. My heart hammers against the inside of my chest. Petrys smiles at me.
“Good,” Petrys says. “That’s good.”
He’s still smiling as he grabs my arm and twists me against his chest, pinning my hand behind my back. I cry out, but of course, there’s no one to hear me. I can’t see Alia or the horses. Gods, I could die here.
A strange, cold calm settles over my body, and suddenly, I’m back in Elrick’s quarters, facing him as light slants through the windows and makes the dust motes dance. Elrick lunges for me. I spin away. He catches me, grabs my neck, and whispers what to do next.
Now, years later, I hear my brother’s voice.
I let my knees collapse, dragging Petrys down with me. He twists as we fall. My shoulder hits the ground, hard, and I gasp. He releases me.
“Not bad,” Petrys says as he stands up and dusts off his pants. “But that move ends with your attacker on top of you. Next time, dig your feet into the ground and see if you can fall backward. Try to knock me off-balance first. And try to land on top.”
He leans over me and offers me his hand. There’s a strange expression on his face, almost like he’s trying to hide a smile, and once again I’m reminded of the snake.
“Come on,” Petrys says. “Let’s try again.”
I groan, then take his hand and let the man who is apparently a friend of my husband pull me to my feet. My shoulder aches. From behind Petrys, I see Alia sitting on a log with her flask. She waves at me. I scowl.
“What kind of present is this?” I grumble.
Petrys laughs.
And then he lunges forward and pins my arm behind my back again.