The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,65
argument. I heard him mumble drag her? beneath his breath.
Griz was surprisingly silent, and I realized he was enjoying listening to the king dig his grave. Griz believed in Lia in a strange, fierce way that I was only just grasping. It didn’t matter that she planned to leave him behind. The king was showing his true royal colors, and Griz was savoring every word.
I tried to savor the warm kernel of satisfaction growing in my gut too, but I also knew the rage I heard in Lia’s voice came from a place of deep hurt. My satisfaction turned cold. After my promise of honesty, I had dispensed only portions of the truth to Rafe about my kiss with Lia, knowing it would enrage him, but she was the one who had shouldered the brunt of the pain it had caused. I didn’t want to hurt her any more.
It was quiet outside on the veranda, and Sven finally broke our silence. “What else could he do? It’s not safe for her to go back to Morrighan.”
“She asked me once about going home,” Jeb said. “I always assumed she meant Dalbreck.”
“Dalbreck is not her home,” I told him.
“It’s going to be,” Tavish said, shooting me a dark glare.
“Nothing to worry about.” Orrin poured himself more ale. “She’ll come to her senses.”
Tavish snorted. “Sure she will.”
“Her worry is valid,” I said. “The Komizar is going to march against Morrighan and the other kingdoms.”
“Which kingdom first?” Sven asked.
“Morrighan.”
“And you know that with certainty, probably because he told you.”
Sven’s point was clear. The Komizar wasn’t the best source for any truths, and I knew how he could hold back information, pitting one governor against another for his own purposes. The Komizar wanted Morrighan, but he wanted Dalbreck too. He wanted them all.
“Yes,” I answered. “Certain.” But now I wasn’t.
Bodeen grinned. “March with his supposed army of a hundred thousand?”
Griz cleared his throat. “Not exactly,” he said, finally speaking up. “I’m afraid the princess didn’t get the numbers quite right.”
No, she didn’t. I remembered when I returned to the Sanctum and asked the Komizar how the plans were going. Better than I hoped. His army had grown significantly in the last few months.
Sven’s eyes were sharp beads on Griz, as if he knew there was more coming.
“There you go!” Hague said waving his hand in the air. “Confirmation right out of the big barbarian’s mouth. Maybe he’s the one who should speak to the princess.”
Griz swilled back a shot of red-eye and set the glass down with a loud thud. “The numbers are actually closer to a hundred and twenty thousand. All well armed. He motioned to Sven to pass the bottle to refill his empty glass. “That’s about twice the size of your forces, isn’t it, Captain?”
Jeb sighed. “Three times.”
Hague said nothing. His mouth gaped like a fish dangling from a hook. Griz tried to restrain a smile.
Orrin and Tavish shook their heads, and Sven passed the bottle to Griz, scrutinizing him for signs of a lie.
It was the truth. That was what the Komizar was so heavily pressuring the governors for—more supplies to sustain his expanding army.
“They’re only wild barbarians! Not a trained marching army. The numbers mean nothing!” Hague finally sputtered, dismissing the matter.
Bodeen sat back in his chair. “While the size and abilities of a Vendan army remain in question,” he interjected, “the king’s concerns do not. His worry is valid too. I understand there’s a bounty for the princess’s capture, and thanks to the Komizar and his rumors, probably something much worse awaits her by now. I think I heard King Jaxon describe her as ‘the most wanted criminal in Morrighan’? That’s a perilous position to be in.”
Stalemate. That was true too, and I knew in their view it made Griz and me look callous and unconcerned for Lia’s well-being.
Bodeen quirked his head to the side, listening, and then stood, finally judging it safe to leave. “What was that last thing she growled as she went down the steps? Jabavé?”
“It’s a Vendan word for—”
Sven coughed, cutting me off. “It’s not a term of endearment,” he offered. “The king knows what it means. That’s all that matters.”
My kernel of satisfaction warmed again, in spite of myself.
It is in the sorrows.
In the fear.
In the need.
That is when the knowing gains wings.
The black wings of knowing fluttered beneath my breast.