but the look they cast in Yulenna's direction—and mine—is a little more…creepy. I catch the eyes of someone in an ornate cloak and the look he gives me is downright lascivious. Another man licks his lips as we walk past, and it doesn't take more than a few more steps before I'm clinging to Yulenna's hand, too. Bunch of creeps. Maybe they don't get out much and so any new woman that walks in gets leered at.
"Aron will protect us," I tell Yulenna. "Don't worry about that."
"He will protect his anchor," she says tightly.
Right. Me and not her. I just squeeze her hand reassuringly, because I'm not going to let these people creep on her.
More and more people arrive, and as the crowd fills out, I'm relieved to see women and children in the crowd, too. They all gaze at us with awe, and I see more than one make Aron's gesture and bow their heads in piety. Even though Aron's a war god, he's well known enough that even the moms and grandmas are fisting his gesture.
At the far end of the courtyard is a massive set of steps flanked with torches, and the lord leads Aron in, so we follow. Once inside, I blink at the low light. The smell of torch smoke increases, and then as my eyes adjust, I can make out the hall itself. A large chair sits atop a stair-stepped dais at the far end of the room, by a massive fireplace. My skin prickles at the sight of it. Nothing good ever happens in rooms with a dais, I'm learning. They had a dais in Aventine—and tried to murder us. They had a dais in Tadekha's Citadel—and a rampaging army arrived. "Third time’s a charm," I tell myself, though my stomach gets sour when I hear the scrape of chains and two slave women peek out from behind the throne. They have cloaks to keep them warm in the drafty keep…but it looks like they're not wearing anything underneath.
Great. This place falls a few more notches in my estimation. Less and less of a fan of Novoro.
Aron gives the throne room a curt look.
"Please, my lord, sit and make yourself at home. Everything I have, I share with you." Lord Secuban's eyes gleam and his gaze flicks to Yulenna, and he licks his lips. "In Novoro, to share brings great honor."
"My mortals are tired and wish to rest," Aron says in that same imperious voice I've grown to know. "I want private quarters for myself and my anchor."
"Of course, of course." Lord Secuban looks nervous, and if he had a hat, he'd wring it like a cartoon sycophant. "Forgive me for not anticipating your needs. This is the first time Novoro has been honored by the gods. Everything you need, it shall be provided. We will give you a place to rest and time to yourself, and tonight, a great feast will be shared. We hope that you will stay for a few days and bless us."
I relax a little. Everyone just wants a blessing from the gods. I get that. Maybe this place isn't as creepy as I thought it was. They're just the Aos version of backwoods hicks. They don't get out much, they don't see new people, and they don't know how to act. I pat Yulenna's hand.
Nothing at all to worry about.
48
Aron leaves us behind immediately.
“I wish to speak with their priests and scribes, to see if they’ve received any prophecies,” he tells Yulenna as I stand next to her. “I will not be far. Send one of the men if you need anything.” He flicks a glance at me and then is gone.
Well, he must feel safe, I think sourly. Never mind that he’s arrogance and could be putting all of us in danger. I’ll keep those thoughts to myself for now, though, especially since Yulenna is posing as me. With Markos, Vitar and Kerren surrounding us, we’re shown to quarters by a serving girl who bows and scrapes and giggles with excitement. The men are shown a room down a great hall, the quarters of Novoro’s greatest knight. When they’re told they will be staying there for as long as needed, they nod, and then continue to follow Yulenna and me. We’re led forward down the same hall, to double doors that are carved with gorgeous symbols of the mountains, and when the doors are flung open, the chamber itself is pure opulence. Heavy drapes hang from