Ever the Hunted (Clash of Kingdoms #1)(56)
“What? No.” We cannot stay here. They know we were looking for Enat. They’ll come after her first. “Our being here puts you in the middle of our mess.”
“Britta’s right,” he says. “You’ve done enough for us. We’re leaving.”
Enat could rival Cohen for best stone-like expression. She pauses over the berries and seeds drying in the sun. “Nowhere safer than here. Only a handful of people know the route to my home. And like I said, the magic in these woods makes it impossible to find without a counter-charm. Setting up camp elsewhere would be a mistake.”
She’s right. We would’ve never found her if Astoria hadn’t given us directions and the herb mix.
“I know the layout of my land like every lump on my old-lady body.” She winks at the horrified expression I make. “I know the best vantage points. You’re better defending yourselves here.” She has a point there, even if she’s made it ineloquently. “They won’t find us. But for the sake of arguing that they will, if they come, it’ll be more excitement than I’ve had in years. Could use a good fight. I haven’t had decent target practice in a while.”
I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of her arrow. At least not again. Enat is as formidable as Captain Omar, with a touch more of madness. Perhaps it’s her brashness that makes me forget her bent body.
Cohen looks at me, his face full of silent questioning. When I shrug, he answers for us both. “All right. Britta can stay here while I head into town.” My mouth pops open. That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “We need to keep an eye on them so we know what they’re up to. Stay one step ahead of them. I’ll return once I have more information on the guards’ plans.”
“No.” Belatedly realizing how loud my opposition sounded, I wrinkle my nose and start again quieter than before. “Cohen, you cannot go alone. How would we know if they catch up to you? If something happened?”
He points to Siron, who is busy eating foliage. “I’ve just returned from traveling alone. I’ll be fine going alone again.”
“There’s more of a threat now. If I’d known there was a hefty bounty on our heads, I wouldn’t have agreed to you going alone earlier. It’s too dangerous. Too many unknowns. Right, Enat?”
His forehead creases, his eyes shifting between me and Enat. “You really think I’d let them catch me?”
Always willing to take unnecessary risks, always daring to take chances. “Regardless, it’s safer to go together. You know that. We’ll have more than the guards to worry about now. You need someone to watch your back.”
“I don’t need you to come.”
I pretend his words don’t hurt. “We were trained by the same man. Have you forgotten Safety ensures survival? We both go or we both stay.”
Enat steps between us. “Britta is right. There’s safety in numbers. I’d tell you to stay, but it makes sense to find out what the guards are planning. Once you do, though, I expect you both back here.”
I smirk, humored by how almost maternal she is being.
Cohen grunts, not pleased with the development.
It is midafternoon when we leave, and the fog has lifted. By the time we reach the outskirts of Celize, a sliver of a moon hangs in the cloudy sky. The darkness works well for us, making it easier to move into the city unseen as we seek the whereabouts of the guards.
I pull out the hat and cane I brought from Enat’s home and hand both to Cohen.
I scoop up some mud. “Here. You should dirty your face. It’ll help with the disguise.”
He rubs the dirt on his cheeks and arms until he has a vagabond appearance. Still, he’s too striking. I worry the disguise isn’t enough. As we move into Celize, a few houses on the outskirts have lines of flapping clothes out to dry. Before Cohen can protest, I grab an oversize green tunic and hand it to him.
“Wear this. It’ll help.”
“Stealing again?” His mouth quirks. “I thought we were trying to avoid a hanging.”
“Borrowing, not stealing. You need something that doesn’t look like you.”
He pulls it on and then flaps his arms to the sides, playing with the excess material. He groans. “I look like a lad playing in his father’s tunic.”
“A wee vagabond lad,” I correct, though he’s anything but that.
“I don’t want to hear those words out of your mouth ever again.” He glares and puffs out his chest, drawing a laugh out of me. “Will you be all right up there?” He points to the line of houses. When I tell him yes, his expression sobers. “If there’s trouble, use your bow. I’ll be back as soon as I find out where they’re lodging.”
He hesitates and I can tell he’s worried for me, because that’s Cohen. He always needs to make sure everyone else is well. “Go now,” I urge. “I can take care of myself. Stop wasting time.”
With a nod, Cohen heads for the first tavern, while I climb the trellis to the roof. There I crouch in the shadow of a chimney. Three stories above the street, the spot provides a raven’s view of the surrounding city blocks. The murmur of voices echoes from conversations below.
A lot like hunting, I wait patiently, scrutinizing every movement and listening for anything pertinent. The waves are too loud and make it nearly impossible to gather any information. So when my legs start to cramp, I abandon my first spot and sneak along the connected rooflines, keeping low, until I find another chimney shadow with a better view.