Page 39 of Silverbow (The Godsung Saga #1)

The gray gruel that was set before her in the common room did little to settle Enya’s stomach, still churning after the press of Windross Wells.

At least she’d been allowed down out of her room.

For a moment, she thought Oryn was going to order her to take her meal in the cramped space, but as she darted a panicked look around, he jerked his chin in silent command to follow him down the stairs.

She had never been so happy to accept an order.

Pressed between her overbearing gargoyle and Colm, she watched Aiden stoically shovel the sludge into his mouth.

“It’s not that bad if you drink enough of the ale,” he said.

Enya wrinkled her nose and pushed her bowl at him. “I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself.” He finished scraping his own bowl and started on hers.

She turned to study the rough faces around the room. “Why this place?”

“Because people like us don’t stand out here,” Colm answered quietly.

Enya wasn’t so sure she agreed. Some of the men were broader of shoulder, and some carried more steel than a forge could make in a year, but the demi-elves looked almost regal compared to the merchant’s guards and sell swords packed into the Broken Spoke.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust as a man groped a serving maid in full view of the innkeeper.

The girl batted his hand away with a curse. They were certainly better mannered.

Her gaze landed on the back of a tall man at a distant card table.

The men around him seemed to defer to him, even if he appeared to be the youngest of the bunch.

A heavy, two handed broadsword with a gilded bear worked into the hilt hung at his hip.

It had rubies for eyes and Enya wondered what a sword like that was doing at an inn like this.

When the man seemed to feel her eyes and turned to look over his shoulder, she ducked her face into her wine cup.

To her horror, he rose and started toward them.

Oh, light.

The demi-elves watched him approach with unruffled faces. Enya didn’t look up as he leaned down and splayed broad hands across the scarred wood, eyeing each of her companions in turn. She shrank back into her chair when his eyes lingered on her.

“The city’s really gone to the dogs, letting a bunch of half-breeds like you lot in,” he growled in a thick northern brogue.

Enya held her breath, eyes fixed on the table.

Bade spat at his feet. “You’re one to talk, you ugly son of a goat.”

A broad grin broke out over his handsome face and he clasped forearms with the dark eyed demi-elf.

“Bade Bandone in the flesh, and the rest of the usual suspects.” So much for their other names.

His hazel eyes swiveled between Enya and the men who flanked her.

“Well. Who do you belong to, lass? Not Bellami.” He lifted a brow toward Oryn in silent question.

“I don’t belong to anyone,“ she hissed.

“Ah, that’s for the best. They’re way too old for a lass like you. Older than dirt, the lot of them. But I,” he gave a dramatic bow. “Cedric Norvallen, at your service, Miss…?”

“Ansel,” she said a bit too thickly as pink crept into her cheeks.

Cedric pulled out the empty chair beside Aiden and invited himself to sit. He spun it around backwards and dropped onto it, propping his chin on folded arms as he studied her intently. Enya’s heart gave a strangled little leap.

“House Norvallen?” She asked, shifting in her seat. Oryn nudged her with a boot beneath the table in a reminder of his favorite rule.

Cedric wiggled a finger with a gold signet ring. “One and the same. It’s not as pretty or posh as Brydove’s though,” he gave her wink.

Not as posh as his? Enya darted a look at the gold signet ring Oryn wore but presumed he was making some kind of joke she did not understand. Lord Norvallen was the High Lord of Valbelle.

“Careful, Ced,” Colm warned.

“What are you lot doing back this side of the sea? Last I saw you, you were lounging on pillows in the sun while some of Durelli’s finest-”

“We grew bored of luxury,” Aiden sighed with an accusatory look at Oryn.

Cedric chuckled. “Girl’s got the west on her tongue. You already been across the continent and back and you didn’t even bother to write? And here I thought I meant something to you.”

“Another war, another sell sword,” Aiden quipped .

Cedric raised a hand to his chest in mock offense. He turned his attention back to Enya. “Heading east with this lot. You’re either wanted or gifted lass, which is it?”

“Keep your voice down,” Bade growled. Her companions darted looks around the common room but everyone was absorbed in their own cups.

Cedric waved his hand dismissively. “Half the men in here are wanted somewhere in Estryia. I can’t set foot in the South, you know.

A damn shame. I’m doomed to freeze my boots off in the North.

But if you need to get rid of that accent, love, spend the evening with me and mine.

We’ll have you speaking northern brogue by dawn. ”

Enya felt her face go scarlet as something in her middle fluttered.

He turned back to Oryn with a chuckle. “Is she your Treesinger?”

“Their what?” She asked.

“Take that as a no. A Dreamwalker?”

Enya looked to Colm for help. Aiden wore a broad smile, but Oryn looked as if he were chewing rocks.

“Shapeshifter? I’ve always wanted to meet a shapeshifter.”

“No, I-”

“She’s a bloody Silverbow. Now will you shut your big yap before someone takes an interest?” Bade hissed.

“ Dragon’s tits ,“ he whistled. “You don’t say.”

“And you won’t breathe a single word,” Oryn growled. “Or it will be your last.”

“My lips are sealed,” Cedric vowed. “That is unless the lady has other ideas for them.”

Enya choked on her wine hard enough that Colm pounded her on the back.

“Oh, Miss Ansel has no want of a man,” Aiden sighed. “It might be the single greatest tragedy in all of Estryia.”

Enya glared at him.

Cedric frowned. “Well, if it’s women you prefer, I’ve got a sister.”

“It’s not,” she snapped.

The grin reappeared on Cedric’s face. “Her loss. You might meet her if you end up in the Vale. While I was off with these sorry sacks in Durelli, she ran off and got herself a dragon.”

“Did she now?” Colm asked. “Has her Talent manifested? ”

“Afraid she’s not your Treesinger either. But she’s a Warder. Can you believe that? A Warder. ”

An unreadable look passed between the demi-elves.

“What’s a Warder?” Enya asked hesitantly.

“She can build new wards,” Cedric said excitedly. “Keep people out of places, keep them in. Rare, I’m told.”

“There hasn’t been a Warder in the Vale in almost two centuries,” Colm confirmed.

“Must be getting close to your prophecy, eh? She could raise Eastwood’s wards for you,” Cedric grinned.

“What prophecy?” Enya asked.

“That’s none of your concern,” Oryn said coolly. “And no one needs to ward dead land.”

Cedric shrugged. “No, but once you find your Treesinger, it won’t be dead anymore, will it?”

Bade jerked his chin toward the men still at their card game. “Where are you lot headed?”

“Covwood,” Cedric answered.

Bade grimaced and the others stilled.

“What’s in Covwood?” Enya asked.

Cedric gave her a disbelieving look. “The witches, lass. It’s their stronghold. Haven’t you ever heard the stories?” Enya had heard plenty of tales of witches, but none that mentioned where they called home. “I don’t suppose I can convince you lot to join us?”

“What for?” Colm asked.

“There’s been talk of strange happenings.”

“What kind of happenings?”

“The kind you might expect from the witches. Nightmares come to life. People disappearing. Something’s stirring in Covwood, that’s all anyone knows. Pallas doesn’t seem to care, useless old bag. My uncle asked me to see for myself.”

Another unreadable look passed between the demi-elves.

“Afraid we’ve got to go east,” Colm said. “We’ve got business in Drozia. Send word to Leon with what you find, if you can.”

Cedric nodded. “Your Silverbow come to do for the horse lord what was done for the witch in Innesh?”

Enya’s heart skittered. “What did you just say? ”

“They been stringing him up every day in the soldier’s square, making a spectacle of it.

” Cedric spat on the floor and eyed her.

“Seems the High Lord of Pavia is trying to bait in his bounty. It’s too bad he didn’t take his little show north with the wielders.

My uncle’s been looking for an excuse to skin Peytar Ralenet for years.

Wouldn’t tolerate that kind of thing in the North. ”

Enya didn’t heed the warning Oryn conveyed in his tapping foot beneath the table. She threw back her chair and bolted for the stairs. He’s here.

“Was it something I said?” Cedric called after her.