Graceling (Graceling Realm #1)(77)

Bitterblue narrowed her eyes. “How did he hurt you?”

“He kidnapped my grandfather,” Po said. “He murdered my aunt before my eyes. He threatens my cousin.”

Bitterblue seemed satisfied by this; or, at least, she turned to her food and ate ravenously for a number of minutes.

She glanced at him occasionally, at his hands as he tended the fire.

“My mother wore a lot of rings, like you,” she said. “You look like my mother, excepting your eyes. And you sound like her, when you talk.” She took a deep breath and stared at the food in her hands. “He’ll be camping in the forest tonight, and he’ll be looking for me again tomorrow. I don’t know how you’ll find him.”

“We found you,” Po said, “didn’t we?”





Her eyes flashed up into his and then back to her food. “He’ll have his personal guard with him. They are all Graced.

I’ll tell you what you’ll be facing.”

———

It was a simple enough plan. Po would set out early, before first light, with food, a horse, the bow, the quiver, one dagger, and two knives. He would work his way back into the forest and hide his horse. He would find the king –

however long that took. He would come no closer to the king than the distance of the flight of an arrow. He would aim, and he would fire. He would ensure that the king was dead. And then he would run, as fast as he could, back to his horse and to the camp.

A simple plan, and Katsa grew more and more uneasy as they talked it through, for both she and Po knew that it would never play out so simply. The king had an inner guard, made up of five Graced sword fighters. These men were little threat to Po; they always stood beside the king, and Po expected never to step within their range. It was the king’s outer guard that Po must be prepared to encounter. These were ten men who would be positioned in a broad circle around Leck, some distance from him and from each other, but surrounding the king as he moved through the forest.

They were all Graced, some fighters, a couple crack shots with a bow. One Graced with speed on foot; one enormously strong; one who climbed trees and jumped from branch to branch like a squirrel. One with extraordinary sight and hearing.

“You will know that one by his red beard,” Bitterblue said. “But if you’re close enough to see him, then he’s most certainly spotted you already. Once you’re spotted they’ll raise the alarm.”

“Po,” Katsa said. “Let me come with you as far as the outer circle. There are too many of them, and you may need help.”

“No,” Po said.

“I would only fight them and then leave.”

“No, Katsa.”

“You’ll never – ”

“Katsa.” His voice was sharp. She crossed her arms and glared into the fire. She took a breath and swallowed hard.

“Very well,” she said. “Go to sleep now, Po, and I’ll keep watch.”

Po nodded. “Wake me in a couple of hours and I’ll take over.”

“No,” she said. “You need your sleep if you’re to do this thing. I’ll keep watch tonight. I’m not tired, Po,” she said as he started to protest. “You know I’m not. Let me do this.”

And so Po dropped off to sleep, huddled in a blanket beside Bitterblue. Katsa sat in the dark and went over the plan in her mind.

If Po didn’t return to their camp above the gully by sunset, then Katsa and Bitterblue must flee without him. For if he didn’t return, it might mean the king was not dead. If the king was not dead, then nothing would protect Bitterblue from him, except distance.

Leave Po behind, in this forest of soldiers. It was unimaginable to Katsa, and as she sat on a rock in the cold and the dark, she wouldn’t let herself think it. She watched for the slightest movement, listened for the smallest sound. And refused to think about all that could happen tomorrow in the forest.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX




Po woke in the early morning cold and gathered his things together quietly. He pulled Katsa close and held her against him. “I’ll come back,” he said; and then he was gone. She sat guard, as she had done all night, and watched the path he had taken. She held her thoughts in check.

She wore a ring on a string around her neck, a ring that Po had given her before he’d climbed onto the back of his horse and clattered across the cliff path. It was cold against the skin of her breast, and she fingered it as she waited for the sun to rise. It was the ring with the engravings that matched the markings on his arms. The ring of Po’s castle, and his princehood. If Po didn’t return today, then Katsa must take Bitterblue south to the sea. She must arrange passage somehow on a ship to Lienid’s western coast, and Po’s castle. No Lienid would detain her or question her, if she wore Po’s ring. They would know that she acted on Po’s instructions; they would welcome and assist her. And Bitterblue might be kept safe in Po’s castle while Katsa thought and planned and waited to hear something of Po.

When light came and Bitterblue awoke, she and Katsa led the horse down to the lake to drink and graze. They collected wood, in case they stayed in this camp again that night. They ate winterberries from a clump of bushes beside the water. Katsa caught and gutted fish for their dinner. When they climbed back up to the rock camp, the sun had not even topped the sky.