pink with too much embroidery. “Are you going out?”
“Theron has decided to pick this morning to go to training,” she said. “Since Gavin can’t be bothered to make an appearance, I’m going down with him.” Judah’s thoughts must have shown on what little Elly could see of her face, because the other woman—stormy though her expression was—managed a semi-amused grin. “It’s okay. Courtiers do it all the time—observe training. There are even benches.”
“Will there be courtiers sitting on them?”
“Maybe.” Elly was cool. “I don’t really see how it matters.”
She could afford to say that. Protocol would have kept Elly away from the courtiers even if the Seneschal hadn’t wanted it that way; she was supposed to stay apart, to remain impartial. Judah took her arm away from her eyes, dropped it casually across the other one over her stomach. Trying to be subtle, so Elly couldn’t see, she scratched a curlicue and twist on the inside of her arm. Where are you? There was no answer.
* * *
She planned to spend the day mucking out stalls with Darid to make the time go faster. Horses required the movement of astounding amounts of hay: from hayrick to loft, from loft to manger, from stall floor to manure pile. But every time she sat up the lurching came back. Gavin didn’t answer her no matter how many times she scratched, which distracted and annoyed her. Finally, she made it to her feet and stumbled down to the bathing rooms above the kitchen, where the great fires below kept the water hot. The steam and the pungent smell of the herbs steeping in the water cleared her head, but didn’t quiet her stomach. Individual bathing rooms were supposed to be single-gender but nobody paid attention to that and she could hear laughter from the room on one side of her and moaning from the other. None of the laughers or moaners was Gavin.
Feeling somewhat more human, she dressed, braided her hair. Gavin wasn’t in the solarium or the gardens outside. By the time she made her way down the wooden path that led to the training fields, the morning session was nearing its end. On the grassless field, men ran at each other in heavy leather armor, foreheads dripping with sweat, hair tied back or shaved entirely. Dust hung over everything. It coated her mouth and her eyes and the sleeves of her dress with a thin haze, like pollen. The benches set up by the training field were located upwind from the cavalry stables, for the observers’ comfort. On one end, they bloomed with courtiers holding fine scented handkerchiefs to their noses against the dust. On the other end sat Elly: back held straight, eyes fixed on the field.
Judah joined her. “Where’s Theron?”
“Can’t you tell?” Elly said, and Judah realized that she could. He was the smallest, and the scrawniest, and he spent most of his time standing pointlessly in the dust, flinching when one of the guards came too near.
“He doesn’t belong here,” she said.
“No,” Elly said grimly. “He doesn’t.”
Whatever maneuver the guards were practicing was over. Swords were being sheathed, gauntlets removed. Again, Theron was ignored. He trudged toward the edge of the field, dreary and dejected. When he spotted the two of them, he seemed to gladden. Up close, he looked ludicrous in his leathers. The pieces of armor didn’t fit him or each other, and the mismatch was so obvious that it couldn’t be other than deliberate. Anger swelled inside Judah.
“Well?” he said, by way of greeting.
Elly gave him an encouraging smile. “You did well.”
“No, I didn’t. But at least I tried.” To Judah, he said, “Hello. Elly came down to make sure I didn’t accidentally stab myself in the throat, but why are you here?”
“I never thought you’d stab yourself in the throat,” Elly said.
“Wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” Judah said.
“You’re not the only one.” Theron sounded depressed again. Judah followed his gaze to the courtiers. Laughter drifted over the field, musical and cold. “They’ve been here all day, cackling. As if this wasn’t hard enough.”
“When you’re Commander of the Army, have all their heads cut off,” Judah said.
“I’d settle for having them turned in another direction.”
“Ignore them,” Elly said. “You did well. Really, you did.”
Wearily, he said, “I’m nearsighted, not delusional, but thanks. Now I’m heading up the hill before anyone else notices me. You two coming?”
“Of course,” Elly said.
Meanwhile, a lone blossom separated itself from the bouquet of courtiers, and floated