Page 10
Story: The Turncoat King
“You're over-confident. It'll land you on your arse.” But Sybyl was chuckling as she turned away.
“Who is that one?” Kikir asked, his eyes on Sybyl's tight, lithe frame as she trotted away from them.
“Sybyl is a senior officer, but you'll have no luck there. She has a partner.” And while Iris would most likely laugh at the idea of someone trying to steal her lover, it didn't hurt to warn the Skäddar that he didn't have anything close to a clear field.
“The good ones always do.” Kikir made a gesture of regret. Then he looked at her with a small spark of interest. “And you?”
She laughed. “I am a lowly soldier. And my heart is also in another's hands.”
Kikir lifted his hands in a move that said, can't blame someone for trying.
“What do you want to do with the rest of the day?” Ava could see the column was traveling a little faster, now they had a goal. It was early afternoon, and they had at least four hours before the complex task of setting up for the night began.
“I don't need a babysitter. I'll come find you when it's time for a meal or for us to spar.” Kikir's gaze followed down the column. “I'm interested in observing how the Venyatux do things.”
He'd take the opportunity to have a good look at their weapons and organization, he meant. But the general had invited him to stay, and she didn't have the authority or the motivation to stop him.
“Fine. Just answer me one thing. Was I right about your patterns? And how do you apply them?”
“This again?” Kikir turned from his perusal of the long line of soldiers. “The markings are drawn in a special ink that takes a month to fade. I suppose your being from the border with Skäddar explains how you guessed the pattern symbolizes the meeting of sky and earth, at the very top of the mountains, but it also means pinnacle. I am the best warrior in Skäddar. I have reached the top of the peak. That is why I was chosen to make this journey.”
Ava leaned closer to him, her gaze cataloging the way the pattern was constructed.
“It worries me, how interested you are in this pattern.”
“Sorry.” Ava lifted both hands and straightened. “I embroider. I like to learn new techniques.”
“This would be too difficult to embroider.” Kikir's lips quirked in amusement, as much, she guessed, at the thought of a soldier picking up a needle for fun, as for the idea of capturing his design in thread. “I will see you later.”
He turned his horse and cantered to the very back of the column.
Ava lifted her face to the sun. It was something she did so often, the other Venyatux teased her that there must be a lot of cloud cover up high in the mountains.
Not clouds, she wanted to say, stone walls.
Even with her hunters lurking close by, she kept her eyes closed, let the warmth of the early autumn rays touch her eyelids.
She knew the men who had tracked her through Grimwalt and over the steppes had attached themselves to the column, just like she had.
She'd felt her workings of protection rise up in warning more than once.
As a result, she had worked a pattern of invisibility and obfuscation into her tent so she could sleep without fear of being found.
But right now, her cloak was silent. No one near her meant her harm.
She was free of her responsibilities, with Kikir off on his own.
She was on the outside of the column, so she rode into the stream of horses, people and carts, finding a sheltered spot beside a wagon pulled by yakkuna. The column may be moving a little faster, but it was still just walking pace for her horse.
She pulled out her sewing kit.
She always enjoyed a challenge.
Chapter 4
Luc and Dak rode toward the Venyatux column wearing the garb of scouts.
Perhaps if someone had looked carefully at the sword Luc carried, they would wonder how a scout came to have something worked with gold in the design on the hilt, but they would have to get very close.
Table of Contents
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- Page 10 (Reading here)
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