The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,10
in me and in Mikael that she wouldn’t tell me. Walther could have been wrong.
Then why hadn’t Mikael come for me in Terravin? Why wasn’t I going to him now? What kept me from revealing my presence to him and watching relief flood his eyes? I knitted more furiously.
“Planning for a baby with two heads?”
I pulled on the yarn, ripping out my stray stitches, and looked up at Gwyneth. She was dressed for the public service. It was time for us to go, and I welcomed a walk through the city to the abbey graveyard. The king and queen wouldn’t be there—the king was too ill, and the queen would stay by his side—but Bryn and Regan would attend. They had fallen silent, and I’d feared that they too had turned on their sister, but Bryn finally sent us a note. They wanted to talk. Though the rest of Morrighan may have turned against Lia, the brothers still had a shred of belief in their sister, and Bryn had other news he wanted to share—news he said wasn’t safe to put in a note.
I tucked my knitting away, and as we walked out the door, I wondered if it would ever again be safe for Lia to return home.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As they saddled the horses and packed supplies, they conferred among themselves about the best route to take. The choices were to ride south, where the climb over the diminishing mountain range would be easier, or head due west for a pass through the range that was steeper and more difficult, but faster.
“We’ll go west,” I said.
Tavish stiffened and stopped loading his horse. He’d been pushing for riding south before we crossed the range. He stared at Rafe, refusing to look my way. “We aren’t familiar with that pass, and with the deep snow, it will be more dangerous to cross.”
Rafe strapped my saddlebag to the horse I would ride and rechecked the cinch as he answered. “But it does shave off some miles to the nearest outpost, plus it has the advantage of dumping us into the Valley of Giants, where there’s plenty of ruins for shelter—and hiding places.”
“You’re assuming we’ll need to hide,” Tavish countered. “Aren’t you the one who said we had a two-week lead?”
Everyone paused, including Rafe. Tavish’s tone held unmistakable challenge. It was clear that he had no regard for the gift, and I realized it was possible that none of them did.
“We’re regrouping, Tavish,” Rafe said with finality. “We have new information.”
Regrouping. I could almost see the word blazing in Tavish’s head. Still avoiding my gaze, he nodded. “West it is.”
We rode in twos, wearing makeshift cloaks that they’d made from the Vendan saddle blankets to protect us from the cold. Sven and Tavish led, with Jeb and Orrin and the extra horse following behind us. I felt Rafe watching me, as if I might topple from the saddle. In truth, when I first sat on the horse, I thought my thigh was splitting open. The initial pain had subsided but was replaced with a burning ache. I hardly needed the cloak, because with every hoof fall, another bead of sweat formed on my brow. Whenever the horse stumbled on the snow-covered terrain, I clenched my teeth to mask the pain because the words don’t tarry, or they will all die haunted my thoughts. I didn’t want anything, including a painful moan, to slow us down.
“Keep riding,” Rafe told me. “I’ll be right back.” He turned his horse around and called for Sven to fall back into his place.
Sven stopped, waiting for my horse to catch up to his. “How are you holding up?” he asked.
I didn’t want to admit that my back and leg screamed with pain. “Well enough. I’m in far better shape than I was before Tavish removed the arrows.”
“Good to hear. It’s a long way yet to the safety of the outpost.”
Tavish rode ahead, never glancing back. I watched him navigate the terrain, every step uncertain in snow that swallowed our horses’ legs up to their fetlocks.
“He wasn’t happy about our sudden departure,” I said.
“Perhaps just the circumstances of it,” Sven answered. “Tavish is a well-regarded tactician in his unit. Yesterday he had argued for a quick departure.”
“And Rafe said no.”
“But one word from you…” The way Sven left the sentence hanging in the air made me wonder if he questioned Rafe’s decision too.
“It wasn’t just any word. It wasn’t my opinion. It was something else.”