returning strength to his wounded shoulder. The food affected his companions similarly. After cleaning up, they set the watches and chose spots for sleeping. Shyn took the first watch and Khirro went to where he sat before lying down to sleep.
“Can I ask you something, Shyn?”
“Of course.”
Khirro paused. “How did you find rabbits when we’ve seen no animals in a week?”
“One need only know where to look,” the big man answered with a shrug. “I’ve been hunting rabbit longer than I can remember.”
Khirro nodded, satisfied, though Shyn hadn’t really answered his question.
“And what about the rabbit from the sky? How do you think that happened?”
“Sometimes the Gods provide, Khirro.”
He returned to his sleeping spot no less uncertain about what had happened than when he approached Shyn. If the Gods truly did provide, he’d be heading to his bed to sleep beside Emeline, anxious about the impending birth of a child, not bedding down on the forest floor worried about a one-eyed mercenary pursuing him through a foreign country. If the Gods truly cared, the blood of the king would never have passed into his hands.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Be quiet,” Ghaul growled over his shoulder.
Khirro’s stomach churned and twisted so much, stillness became a discomfort. He might have taken it as illness, but the feeling had become familiar. It was the place where the Shaman’s curse resided in him.
“Something’s wrong,” he said; Ghaul hushed him again.
Khirro tried to settle himself and peer through a space between two kegs. On the other side, some yards away, Elyea stood speaking with two men. She wore the simple, clinging shift she’d worn when they met her instead of the doeskin breeches and loose chemise she donned when they left Despina’s. The men’s demeanor was easy and laughter spilled from the group occasionally. Elyea’s deportment matched theirs as she laughed and smiled and brushed her hand on the arm of one man and then the other. Jealousy added to the knots in Khirro’s gut brought on by the curse and his reticence about their plan.
The final two days of their ride, travel became easier as the land smoothed near the coast, but more difficult in other ways. Ghaul and Shyn were at each other constantly, jibing and bickering so much it surprised Khirro they hadn’t come to blows. The soldier’s mistrust for Shyn tainted everything the border guard did, and his refusal to engage Ghaul except through sarcasm and jest added to the soldier’s ire. They’d argued to an impasse over how best to proceed when they reached the edge of the forest, each with a hand on their swords until Athryn’s wisdom prevailed.
Under the cover of night, they again set their horses free and stole across the short plain to the town of Sheldive, where they planned for Elyea to use her womanly charms and a bag of coins to acquire transport across the Small Sea. Spying from behind the stack of kegs and crates, they saw her using her assets while the bag of money remained on her belt.
One man grabbed Elyea by the waist, pulled her close and kissed her hard on the lips. Ghaul’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, but Athryn stayed him with a touch on his forearm. The discomfort in Khirro’s belly increased. He knew Elyea could take care of herself, possibly more so than he could, but the thought didn’t relieve his disquiet.
If she needs help, she’ll signal.
When the man pulled his face away, Elyea laughed again, then turned to lead them behind a pile of sacks. The other man swatted her ass and she giggled while subtly waving to her companions, letting them know she was all right. They disappeared behind the pile and Khirro held his breath. Maes stood beside him, his back to the scene, eyes closed as though in prayer or meditation, or perhaps sleep, Khirro couldn’t tell which.
Minutes passed. Elyea’s giggles floated to them on the salty night air. A cramp developed in Khirro’s leg and he shifted to alleviate it; Ghaul looked at him but said nothing this time. On Ghaul’s other side, Athryn crouched absolutely still, unmoving as though a carven image. Khirro wondered how he remained so while such a feeling of unease twisted his own gut.
“Too much time has passed,” Ghaul grumbled and began to rise, but sounds stopped him.
First they heard Elyea’s voice—a moan that made Khirro’s heart jump into his throat. Ghaul reached for his sword but this time Shyn stopped him. The look of disdain