Ever the Brave (A Clash of Kingdoms Novel)(26)
Britta Flannery has given me a second chance. There are times for justice, but I have been shown mercy. I will give my people the same.
Omar’s displeasure could start an early winter. “I would caution you not to pay it all. Nicolas’s family’s debts are indeed excessive.”
“You’re right. They are sizable.” I glance at the side of the castle, to the stone fortress that rises upward, hard and impenetrable. I think of the years I did nothing, the suffering of the Purge Proclamation, the way Jamis ground commoners under his boot to make sure all trade and business with Shaerdan ceased except for his own, the manipulations Jamis used to pit noblemen against noblemen. “But so are mine.”
Chapter
12
Cohen
WE TRAVEL INTO THE EVENING OF THE next day, until the stars set trails to follow home. Using Siron’s night eyes in the darkest stretches of the forest and the light of the half-moon where the trees break apart, we head northeast.
I haven’t heard anyone following us, so we’re probably safe. Rhea, the young girl we rescued, rides behind Lirra. By the way Rhea’s head is cocked to the side and tipped forward to rest on Lirra’s back, I’m certain the thirteen-year-old has fallen asleep. Which is good. Means she’s finally stopped crying.
It was hard to listen to her soft sobs. My neck is sore from how hard I’ve gripped it. At least a dozen times I’ve wanted to turn back and chase down Lord Conklin and tear the son of a scrant limb from limb.
Finn seems to be holding up. I glance back to see him nodding in the saddle. A quick whistle between my teeth draws him upright. He meets my gaze and groans.
“When we going to stop, Co?” Sleep turns his voice gravelly.
“Soon.”
“You said that a league back.”
True. Should anyone cross our path, we’ll have to explain Rhea’s presence. The number of men and women in arms over the missing girls has increased. Enough that traveling during daylight with this girl is an added risk. Which means I have to find a safe place for her tonight. And then hopefully my friend can take Rhea home. The town’s no more than another league away.
“How much longer?” This comes from Lirra, who rides along my right side.
“At this rate, half an hour.”
She groans.
“You can make it. You’re the toughest girl in these woods.” Finn’s sleepy voice reminds me of my father’s. It’s odd that my fourteen-year-old brother, who’s nine parts goofy to one part serious, inherited my father’s calm-in-any-situation tone. Well, except for when a girl is nearby. He must’ve gotten used to Lirra.
Night pushes in as I lead the group through the outskirts of a small town that sits in the woods on the border of the drylands. Following my memory, I lead us to a well hidden in a grove of trees. A few hundred paces away, golden lamplight bleeds from a small cottage.
Britta and I met Jacinda when we were on the run from the guards, searching for Britta’s father’s murderer. We stumbled across Jacinda’s well and later found out that Jacinda’s Channeling gift made it so the water in the well was Beannach. Blessed water.
I stop at the well first. I pull up a bucket and tell Finn to dismount.
“Drink this.”
He approaches the well and takes the bucket, gulping back a big swallow without question. He’s such a good kid. The blood on his tunic is just another black shadow right now. Seeing it as he brings the bucket to his mouth turns my stomach. This water will help him some. I wish it would completely heal him, but I don’t think it has the full healing power that Britta’s Channeler gift possesses.
“What are you doing? If you’re going to steal, you should do a perimeter check first.” Lirra’s whisper cuts through the night, scrutiny whittling her words to fine points.
“Belongs to my friend. Try some.” I help her and her groggy young riding companion off their horse.
Rhea sits at the edge of the well next to Finn while Lirra takes a sip.
Lirra’s blue eyes rise to mine. “This water’s been gifted.” She twists around, taking in the house. “Are you certain it’s all right to be here?”
“Like I said, it’s my friend’s place.” I finish drinking my fill before setting out a second bucket for the horses.
“Feel better?” I place my hand on Finn’s back.
He nods and drinks again. Finn comments on the sweetness of the water to Lirra, a point he punctuates with a belch. Fourteen years old. I sigh. At his age, I’d just moved to Brentyn to apprentice with Saul. Britta was all elbows, knees, and attitude.
I tell Finn and Lirra to wait for me, and then I head to the door.
Jacinda’s home, a mushroom-shaped cottage, blends into the reddish tree bark and tall shrubs. Someone traveling by might easily miss it. A smart choice for her husband to have made before he passed. The boards crossing one another to bar her windows don’t match the rest of the home’s construction. They’ve been tacked on recently, I’d say, by the fresh look of the wood. No rust stains the nails.
I knock and wait until she calls through the door. “Who’s there?”
“Jacinda, it’s me. Cohen.”
The door swings open. An arm encircles me before I have a chance to step back. The stout raven-haired woman clutches me in a chokehold even though a little voice cries out, “Momma, squeezing me.”