CHAPTER 37 #2
I nodded again.
“Were you looking for someone in particular?” Her smile was a little too eager.
I shook my head. This was why I never preferred Gemma as my maid. If you wanted to know what secrets anyone in the entire manor held, Gemma knew them.
“The young Lord Fethersen returned home, but he was here for at least a day after your safe return.”
“I’m tired, Gemma. Please bring me a bed tray. Then, I’d like to rest.”
“Yes, of course, milady. Your lady mother will want to see you now that you’ve woken.”
She bustled about setting the tray for me, which had some sort of broth, a bit of buttered toast, and a piece of fruit.
In truth, it was probably more than my stomach could handle.
I sipped at the broth and fumed. So, Tam had stuck around pretending to see to my safety, had he?
I would have been safe if he’d let me stay in my home rather than kidnapping me back here.
We came for you.
Why? I had sent home nothing valuable, no hints that I’d discovered anything of use, and no reason for my father to think it was time to end this arrangement.
The more I thought about it, the more rash it all felt.
Surely, if he’d decided I’d failed him, I’d be more useful to Cavendaffe as a bridge to a foreign alliance—even a weak one—than as nothing more than the neighboring lordling’s wife.
I was worth more to him back in the Riht.
Tam was my father’s idea of an incentive, allowing a mediocre match he thought I desired rather than a strong match to serve the family.
The tradeoff was information enough to compensate, but especially now that I was extracted, I had no information to give.
That’s not true.
I had nothing but information. I had more information than he could have ever hoped for. But it was mine, and I would safeguard it with my life.
My door creaked open, but it wasn’t the door to my bedroom. It was the secret door in my wall that connected Bale’s room to mine. It was originally built as a hideaway by our ancestors should raids from the Riht make it this far south. We hadn’t used it since we were children.
“You’re awake, thank the Creator.”
I beamed at Bale with his mussed hair, his lopsided smile, and his dressing robe thrown over whatever shirt and trousers were likely first in his wardrobe.
“You look a mess.”
He eased the door closed, made sure the seam was flush with the panels, and trotted over to the chair at my bedside. “You should see yourself. How’s the head?”
“Hurts.”
He nodded. “And that arm?”
“Hurts,” I laughed.
“That fucker stabbed you clean through. The cut in my side was shallow.”
“She was protecting our clan,” I said automatically.
Bale stilled. “We shouldn’t have left.”
“Don’t. There’s no use—”
“There is. I’m sorry I let this happen. The safehouse wasn’t so bad, and Drake may have even helped me get out. We should’ve stayed. I should have insisted.”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “It’s done. But how did we get here?”
His face darkened. “Naton is more of a bastard than I thought. He ordered the retreat, but he left half our forces behind to cover our escape. Hundreds of good men, all dead.”
I gasped, covering my mouth as tears welled in my eyes. “All Cavendaffe?”
“And Fethersen. Father appointed him as leader. He’s been cozying up to Ingleton ever since he got news I was dead, apparently.”
“Before that, actually. The bigger question is, what do we do now? Do we flee? Do we find a way to return?”
“Return? Are you mad?”
Bale’s eyes had blown as wide as saucers. He shook his head, hair flopping in his eyes, and he ran his hand over the short beard he’d grown while imprisoned. His hair was longer than he usually kept it, too, but now that it was well-washed, it had its usual bounce and curl to it.
“Fleeing back to Rihtlond would be the perfect excuse for Father to launch a full-scale war backed by the king. Ruper’s been obsessed with expanding Inra’s reach since we were boys.
Just imagine, the Cavendaffe heir and his beloved sister stolen in the dead of night by agents of the Riht?
” Bale swept his hand in a wide arc. “It’d spread like wildfire.
Just the sort of fearmongering they’d need to get the backing of the lords, when not even the nobility can lie safe in our beds.
But Inra can’t afford to be fighting on both our borders. ”
“Both? Is it that bad in the South?”
“There’s more I haven’t told you.” His face turned dark, and he swallowed hard before he answered.
“I should be dead, Serae. I don’t even know how I’m alive.
The border was overrun by Volaachi. They have weapons, the likes of which I’ve never seen.
They have these contraptions they fill with powders that explode, killing men around for thirty feet or more.
They hurl them into the skies and rain down fire and metal.
They have others that leech clouds of poison into the air, choking you where you stand and burning out your eyes.
And they have these…things. I can’t describe them. Half-dragon monsters bigger than men.”
“Dragori.”
He blinked at me. “They have a name?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know it?”
I shook my head. There was too much to explain to him. “Inra isn’t supposed to be at war with Volaach. They’ve always been at war with the Riht. Are you saying you’ve been fighting in the king’s army on the south coast, not the north?”
He nodded and pulled his robe tighter around his middle.
“We need to find time away from the house. On the ship here, Naton, the brainless braggart, spilled everything. Their plans go far beyond what I’d imagined, and Father’s at the center of it.
We’ll need to find somewhere we won’t be interrupted.
” Bale’s face said more to me than his words.
He had that look in his eyes, the same one as when he saw Naton courting Merria, the same one as when we overheard Father planning to enlist him, and the same one he would’ve worn if he were here when I was told I’d be sent to the Riht.
His skin was pale from lack of sunlight, and his eyes were sunken.
He was thinner, too, but the fire in him was alight.
His gold eyes flickered like twin flames.
The door opened, and Bale leaned back in his chair. A lazy smile overtook his face.
“Serae, my darling, they told me you were awake!” Our mother bustled over, scooting between Bale’s chair and the bed and laying a hand on my forehead as if checking for a fever.
She was dressed in a lavish bliaut I’d never seen before, covered in gold embroidered roses.
Her honey-blond hair was curled and pinned atop her head like a crown, but she wore no cercle.
“The worst is over, my dear. The important thing now is that you’re home.
” She turned and offered the same treatment to Bale.
“You two holed up in here together just like when you were children. The Creator has blessed me in bringing you both back.”
Bale rolled his eyes when Mother turned back to me again.
“Have you eaten?”
“Only a little,” I said.
“Good, best to take it slow. Can you get up? Can you dress?”
“I…don’t know.”
“Why?” Bale interjected. “She’s barely returned. What could be more pressing for Serae than recovering her health?”
For a fraction of a second, Mother’s smile turned stale.
In a blink, it was gone, and her cheery tone returned.
“Nothing, nothing! There is nothing more important than rest for both of you.” She ran a hand down my cheek, then turned and did the same to Bale.
“I simply ask because I know how much your father wishes to see and speak with you. You’ve each been through your own ordeal.
And to think, Bale, my precious son, back from the dead and rescuing his sister in the same breath. ”
“I’ve told you, I didn’t rescue Serae. Quite the opposite.”
“Pish posh, enough of all this. Just so long as you’re both home. I’ll send up a maid to help you dress. Did your man not help you this morning?” she asked the last while eyeing Bale’s rumpled clothes beneath his dressing robe.
“I sent him away so I could spend time with my dearest sister.” He winked at me.
“Fine, just see to it that you’re both dressed by midday.” She turned and flittered toward the door. She turned back and said more softly, “Welcome back, my dears.”
Once the door had thumped shut, Bale raised both eyebrows at me.
“Do you really think—”
He shook his head in warning. “If you’ve ever trusted me, trust me now. Not here. We’ll find a time and a place.” He rose, leaned over me, and kissed my forehead. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
I grinned. “I think you’ve been hit over the head. It’s not our birthday.”
“I missed it. And you.”
Gemma burst back in since apparently there was no need for anyone to knock at my door anymore, and Bale left—this time through the main door—with another wink and lopsided grin.
Washing and dressing took far longer than I’d expected.
First, my wound began to bleed in the bath, and we had to apply fresh bandages and pressure for ages.
Then, my useless arm made it impossible to put things over my head and lace them up the normal way.
It took all three of our arms to wrangle my one useless arm into place enough for Gemma to do all the ties, though she nearly had to call in a second maid for help.
After all this, I became so lightheaded that I had to sit down in my chair and sip juice and a cup of cold soup until my head cleared.
Our last battle—the stairs.
The banister was on the right, so I couldn’t grip it.
Gemma braced me by my left arm as we took the stairs one painstaking step at a time.
I wobbled with each step and had to pause for two short breaks on the way down.
My body was so weak, I had a feeling it would take several days to get back to a place where I could simply walk around on flat ground normally again.