The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,40
sometime.”
Jeb’s shoulder was slathered with ointment and compresses. The surgeon told me he had torn muscles and would have to keep his shoulder immobile for several weeks. No riding, no duty. Bed rest for three days. Jeb made faces behind the surgeon’s back, mouthing no.
I shrugged as if I couldn’t override the surgeon’s orders, and Jeb scowled.
A few days’ rest was prescribed for Griz too, but Tavish and Kaden had minor wounds that would only bring them discomfort for a day or so and required no restricted duty. The surgeon had somehow missed the news that Kaden wasn’t one of ours and assumed he was another soldier.
“Those two can go shower,” the surgeon said. “I’ll bandage them after they’ve cleaned up.” He went back to check on Griz.
Kaden was in the rear of the bungalow in dim light, but as he reached for his shirt, he stepped into the light from the window and I saw his back and the short line of black thread where the surgeon had stitched him. Then I saw the scars. Deep ones. He’d been whipped.
He turned and saw me staring.
His chest was equally scarred.
He paused, and then slipped his shirt on as if it was of no matter.
“Old injuries?” I asked.
“Yes. Old.”
How old? I wondered, but his clipped reply made it clear he didn’t want to elaborate. He was about my age, so old injuries could mean he’d been little more than a child when he acquired them. I remembered Lia mumbling that he was once Morrighese, but she was feverish and half asleep when she’d said it, and I thought the possibility was unlikely. Still, if he had been beaten that severely by Vendans, I couldn’t understand how he had remained so loyal to them. He finished buttoning his shirt.
“I have some soldiers outside who will show you where the showers are. They’ll give you some fresh clothes too.”
“Guards, you mean?”
I couldn’t let him walk around freely, not only because I still didn’t trust him completely, but for his own protection as well. News of the platoon’s slaughter had spread through camp. Any kind of Vendan, even one the king said could be moderately trusted, was not welcome here.
“Let’s call them escorts,” I answered. “You remember that word, don’t you? I promise you, your escorts will be far more congenial than Ulrix and his pack of brutes were with me.”
He eyed his belt and sword still lying on a table.
“And you’ll have to leave those behind.”
“I saved your royal ass today.”
“And I’m saving your Vendan one right now.”
* * *
Normally when I had been assigned to Marabella, I had slept in the barracks with the rest of the soldiers, but the colonel said it wasn’t fitting now that I was king. You have to start acting the role, he insisted, and Sven concurred. They ordered a tent set up for me. Tents were reserved for visiting ambassadors and dignitaries who used the outpost as a stopping point. They were larger, more extravagant, and certainly more private than the crowded barracks that housed the soldiers.
I had ordered one set up for Lia as well, and let myself inside her tent to make sure everything was in order. A thick floral carpet had been rolled out across the floor, and her bed was fully made with blankets, furs, and a surplus of pillows. A round stove was stocked with fuel and ready to go, and an oil chandelier was hung for light.
And flowers. A small vase overflowed with some kind of purple flower. The colonel must have sent a whole squad out to scour the merchant wagons for them. A colorful pitcher of water was on a lace-covered table, along with a crock of shortbread next to it. I popped one into my mouth and replaced the lid. No detail had been overlooked. Her tent was far better appointed than mine. Of course the colonel had known I would check to make sure she was comfortable.
I spotted her saddlebag on the floor next to her bed. I’d told the stable hand to bring it as soon as her tent was ready. It, too, was stained with blood. Maybe that was why he’d left it on the floor. I emptied the contents onto the bedside table so I could take it with me to be cleaned. I wanted to erase every reminder of the day that was behind us.
I sat on her bed and thumbed through one of the books from her bag. It was one