Chapter 6 #3
Metal clanked against metal. Armor. She could recognize the sound anywhere. Twelve soldiers on horseback rounded them, and obscenities bubbled in Leila’s throat. They were beside Her, near enough to touch, and Her hands shook as She dug Her nails into the meat of Her palms.
They trotted off, and Leila emptied Her lungs. Her hands still trembled, but the clanking of armor was fading into the distance, and that at least somewhat stilled Her nerves.
“Idiots,” Naomi scoffed.
Leila smiled, easing into Her seat.
“Inspection.”
Her throat closed. Raphael had stopped beside two soldiers in the middle of the road who had spears in hand.
Tobias slowed to a halt behind him, and Leila did the same, panic taking hold of Her.
How hadn’t She seen them? She’d been too distracted by the squad, too caught up in Her worries.
Steeling Herself, She reached for the blade strapped to Her thigh.
“Name,” one of the soldiers said.
“Raphael Tortuga.”
The soldier’s eyes shot wide. “My God.”
The second soldier removed his helmet, revealing long black hair slick with sweat. “It’s the Intellect.”
Raphael nodded. “At your service.”
“What brings you to the shitting hole of the south?”
“Family business. Nothing exciting, unfortunately.”
The helmeted soldier, still stoic and guarded, cocked his head at Tobias and Yucana. “Are they with you?”
“My servants, yes.” Raphael managed a smile. “Can’t even function without their assistance. I fear I picked up some poor habits in the palace of Thessen.”
“One taste of luxury and you never go back, eh?” The sweaty soldier’s laughter loosened Leila’s form, but Her hand remained on Her blade. Naomi had stiffened behind Her, both women frozen and braced. As his chuckling faded, he swept his hair from his face. “We’ll be brief, it’s just—”
“I’ve heard the news,” Raphael said. “An unfortunate turn of events.”
“Twisted, isn’t it?”
“Praying the sovereign claims justice.”
Still, the helmeted soldier didn’t move. His eyes panned down the line. “Are they with you as well?”
“Who?” Raphael said.
“The women.”
His penetrating gaze locked with Leila’s, snuffing Her hopes in an instant. She couldn’t make out the color of his eyes, but She could feel their path as they traced Her figure. Her fingers curled around the grip of Her blade.
Raphael cleared his throat. “I mean, no, but—”
“They’re not?” the soldier said.
“They are, it’s just . . .”
“What’s the trouble? They’re either with you or they’re not.”
Raphael glanced down the line at Naomi and Leila. “They’re . . . Siliassan.”
The soldiers glanced between one another, unsure. The one with the long, oily hair broke the silence. “I don’t follow.”
Raphael cast them a knowing gaze. “They’re Siliassan.”
The realization hit Leila with force, and a smile cracked Her lips.
“What does he mean?” Naomi whispered.
“We’re courtesans,” Leila said. “Expensive ones.”
“O-oh.” The long-haired soldier flushed. “My apologies, I didn’t realize . . .” His words died in a jumbled mess, and he turned to Naomi and Leila, bowing. “Greetings, ladies. It’s a pleasure.”
Leila’s throat tightened. As She slowly, gently pulled Her blade from its sheath, Naomi’s voice broke the silence.
“The pleasure is ours, gentlemen. Ignore my sister, she’s rather shy.” Her words were melodic, a bird’s song dancing across a nonexistent breeze. “My, what a handsome group. Not quite as handsome as our Intellect, though.”
Leila snorted into Her shawl, ducking Her head to hide Her laughter.
The helmeted soldier eyed the two women up and down, the bite in his gaze not nearly as sharp. “Apologies, we didn’t recognize you as . . . It’s just, usually the presentation is more . . .”
“Oh, so you’ve noticed these rags?” Scoffing, Naomi gestured to her dirtied dress. “Would you believe our carriage was robbed some days ago? The Intellect defended us with all his might.” She let out a coquettish sigh. “We’re just passing through for a warm bath—and a warm bed, of course.”
The long-haired soldier’s cheeks reddened. “Well, we won’t take up any more of your time.”
“How gracious of you. And mayhaps keep an eye out for those carriage robbers? They were much farther south—closer to the woods, miles from here. I say take to that direction, and don’t return until you’ve rid the roads of their presence.
” She leaned forward, perhaps fluttering Her eyelashes or providing a generous view of her décolletage. “The reward will be substantial.”
The helmeted soldier’s face was unreadable, but the man at his side swallowed hard, grinning childishly. They nodded as Raphael led the group away, and it wasn’t until both soldiers were out of sight that Leila released Her blade.
She spoke to Naomi out of the corner of Her mouth. “Mayhaps?”
“I don’t know how Siliassans talk,” Naomi said.
Leila shook Her head, Her shawl barely muffling Her laughter. “That was amazing.”
Naomi and Leila chuckled together, but eventually the group traveled in silence, the sounds of the town far more comforting without the rattling of weapons.
They continued past dreary shops and bedraggled housing, navigating the sea of traders in a slow and steady rhythm.
Never again did they see a soldier, or even a cohort, but Leila still held Her breath as if the fight of Her life were mere moments away.
Even after they’d left the town, its greyness far behind them, Her lungs remained tight.
They may have escaped with their lives intact, but the road ahead wasn’t any more appealing.
Raphael had been wrong about their timing.
The sun was still setting upon their arrival, painting the sky a glaring orange as it hugged the horizon.
There was no massive wall like that of Her fortress, or a wooden sign like those in front of the town shops, but there didn’t need to be.
She could tell they’d reached their journey’s end once the grass became lush and green, the trees shaped into perfect triangles and plump circles.
Marble horses dotted rolling statue gardens, and the soft trickling of water from a granite fountain filtered through the air.
It was a humble estate by Her standards, but still beautiful, even serene.
She swallowed the lump in Her throat and could’ve sworn it was made of glass as it slashed Her insides on its way down.
Nausea heaved in Her stomach. Tall red double doors stood before them attached to cream walls with ebony paned windows and a tiled roof. The villa stretched far on either side of them, filigree carved into the sills, lilac bushes lining the entryway.
There was no turning back.
“Keep your distance.” Tobias appeared through his own grey cloud, his dread thick enough to blanket the estate. “I’ll do it.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” Raphael said.
“You thought this whole plan was a terrible idea.”
“I still do, but this part of the plan is the most terrible of all.”
“It should be Me,” Leila said. “It’s My realm. It’s My army.”
Tobias shook his head. “We need to keep You safe.”
“I’m The Savior. They’ll do as I say.”
Tobias opened his mouth to speak, but there was only silence. There was no logical rebuttal, after all. It didn’t matter if She and the rest of them would’ve preferred to flee from the task entirely. Leila was the only one who could make it work.
Clearing Her throat, She marched up the stone steps to the villa. She eyed the tall red doors, each wooden slat a stream of blood, and Her mouth went dry. Bracing Herself, She knocked three times.
Her stomach heaved, but She didn’t move. A lock clicked, and a servant with black hair and a flaxen dress opened the door, eyes squinted in confusion.
“Hello.” Leila spoke with calm and poise, a contrast to Her stirring insides. She lowered Her hood, and what remained of the sunlight set Her skin aglow. The servant’s eyes widened, but She didn’t stumble or faint, and for that Leila was grateful.
“I’m looking for Flynn.”