I nodded, turned to her to see she was sober too, very sober and very serious.
And then I said, “I do not agree with the way these people, now my people, live their lives but I promise you, Diandra, I vow that I would do nothing that would bring harm to them.” I smiled at her. Then I whispered, “They are my people, you know.”
She returned my smile then she whispered back, “Use caution, be watchful and stay safe, my queen.”
I nodded then I heard galloping hooves and looked forward in time to see the warrior from earlier returning.
“What now?” I muttered as he passed me, circled, came back and again, this time with a small cry (coming from me), he plucked me off Zephyr, grabbed her reins, she gave a really irritated whinny and he pierced Diandra with a look and barked, “Vayoo!”
Then off we were again at a gallop but we were heading straight to the front of the line.
Straight to Lahn.
Oh shit.
The warrior slowed us to a walk, got close to Lahn and then he plucked me off the warrior’s horse and planted me in front of him. And before I settled, his arm got tight around me, my ass slid into his groin and he looked to the side and said something.
I looked where he was looking and saw Diandra next to us, the warrior gone, Zephyr riderless going with him.
Yep. Oh shit it was.
“He wishes for me to translate for you both, Dahksahna Circe,” Diandra told me.
Great. Just great.
Oh well, again, I had no choice.
“Okay, Diandra,” I said softly and aimed my eyes forward.
Lahn spoke and thus commenced our conversation with Diandra interpreting.
“You ride with me until we make camp,” Lahn ordered.
There it was. We were making camp.
Damn.
“Okey dokey,” I replied flippantly (Diandra didn’t translate that and it got me a squeeze from Lahn’s arm when I said it probably because I said it flippantly).
Lahn spoke. “While we ride, I wish to learn about your mother.”
All flippant disappeared, my back went straight and my eyes went to Diandra. She tipped her head to the side in an “I’m sorry” gesture and I turned to face forward again.
Lahn’s arm gave me another squeeze and he growled, “Circe.”
I gave in because I didn’t have any other choice.
“Okay, what do you want to know?” I asked.
“She was killed,” he stated but I shook my head.
“No, she wasn’t killed. You can be killed in an accident. She wasn’t in an accident. She was murdered.”
“By whom?”
“A robber, a thief. She walked in on him while he was in the middle of stealing; he turned his weapon on her and murdered her.”
“Was this during war?” he asked.