Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,102
camp in the middle of the night. The fires are low, but it is still impossible to miss. Even traveling in the dark, she could feel the tracks of the horses and wagons through the soles of her boots. The Legion Queen makes no secret of her intentions. Anyone following the progression of the camp smoke will know that the rebellion is marching on Indrid Down.
“Queen Arsinoe.” One of the scouts bows when she sees her.
“Bowing again, are we?” Arsinoe says. This near the battle, everyone has become superstitious. They search for blessings and bargain with their consciences. They beg the oracles for signs that they will survive, and that they fight for the right side. “Never mind. I didn’t mean to bark at you. Do you know where to find Billy Chatworth?”
“Camped on the northern ridge.” She points. The camp is so large that she has to stop twice more and ask for further directions, but she finally finds him standing outside his tent beside a small cookfire.
“Arsinoe.” He reaches her in three strides and takes her in his arms. “You took so long; I was worried.”
“I’m sorry. It took longer than I thought to leave Braddock with Willa at the Black Cottage.”
“He didn’t want to be left?”
“She didn’t want to take him on.”
“She’s not a naturalist,” Billy says, “so I guess I can’t blame her.”
“Aye, she’s not. But she knows him. I left her with a sackful of smoked fish to keep him in line. He’ll likely wander off into the woods anyway when he sees that Caragh isn’t there.”
Billy nods. He does not look the same without his smile and without the mainland sparkle in his eyes.
“You’ve changed so much,” she says softly. “Since turning up on this island and telling Jules you had a deaf cat with two-colored eyes like hers.”
He laughs. “My god. Did I really say that? How did you put up with me?”
“With the patience of a queen,” she says, and they chuckle until something inside Billy’s tent shifts and starts to grumble.
“Keep it down out there, will you! Some of us are trying to get some sleep before we commit outright treason.”
Arsinoe blinks. “Who’s in your tent?”
“Pietyr Renard.” Billy frowns. “I drew the short straw.”
Arsinoe peers in through the slit in the tent flap and sees a sliver of him on his side, his arms crossed tensely over his chest.
“I’m surprised they brought him at all,” Billy says. “He can’t be trusted.”
“Trusted, no. But Katharine did try to kill him. She left him unconscious for months. I believe he’s afraid of her if I don’t believe anything else.”
“Hmpf. He may be a poisoner, but his real power is in persuasion. Oh!” Billy raises his eyebrows. “I saved some food for you.” He wraps the handle of a pot in a cloth and turns the contents out onto a plate. She smells carrot and onion and meaty gravy.
Of course he would know to keep a pot full of food for her. He knows her so well. But when she takes the plate, she finds that she is not hungry. Or at least not for food.
“Are you saying we have to share a tent with an Arron all night long?” She takes his hand and rubs her thumb along the inside of his palm.
“Would be rude to turn him out.” He pulls her close. “But I’m sure we can find some cozy place.”
Neither needs convincing. They hurry away from the camp, huddled close together.
“It’s so blasted dark,” he says. “Be careful. I think we passed a small lean-to not far back. Looked deserted, except for a few goats.”
“A lean-to, a barn, a sturdy tree, for all I care,” she says, and Billy laughs.
Somehow, they find their way to it and climb through the fence. They lay down a layer of fresh straw and a blanket, and Billy nudges away a few curious goats.
“A shame that lean-tos don’t have doors,” he says, and she pulls him to her.
“Come here and be quiet.”
“Quiet?”
“At least try not to startle the goats.”
She hears him laugh. They cannot see each other in the dark, but their hands have had plenty of practice. It is not long before they both forget the goats and the chill in the night air and think of nothing but each other.
Afterward, they lie together quietly.
“I don’t want to go back,” she whispers.
“Maybe we can keep the sun from rising for a day or two . . .”