She heard her sister's voice and imagined Moria shaking her head. Ashyn silenced her. Just because she was admiring the scenery did not mean she would step blindly into the quicksand.
"Yes, I'm sure you did come back for me," she said. "Except I would word it differently. You came back for the Seeker. And I don't care. If you get me to the nearest town, you deserve that reward."
He eyed her, wary now.
"I mean it," she said. "I understand your situation. You might return to the imperial city only to be thrown into another cell, awaiting a fate as dire as the forest. If you return with me, and I say that you rescued me, at the very least you will be free. You would also likely receive some sort of more tangible reward. I don't begrudge you that. I would simply ask that you are honest with me."
He paused, still searching her face, as if for a trick. Finally he said, "I apologize."
"Good. Now, I'll need to explain the situation to the others. That would be best done in morning's light."
He bent and wiped his blade on the sand, cleaning it. "While I understand why you don't wish to frighten them by disappearing, I'm not sure that discussing the matter will help."
"Disappearing?"
"With me." He stopped. "You expect me to join them?"
"I will say that you are my chosen guard. Gregor cannot argue with that."
"It's not arguing that concerns me. You can't continue at their pace, Ashyn. The woman and child are slow enough, but the old man? I left Edgewood just ahead of you, and I had to walk back half a day to find you."
"I'll not leave them."
"I know you feel responsible, but I also have respons . . ." He trailed off and resumed checking his sword. "I wish to get back to the city as quickly as possible. I've been in the Forest of the Dead for four moons. I'd like a soft sleeping mat and clean clothing, and I'll not get that out here."
"I understand, but the matter isn't open to discussion. My duty is to my village--those few who still live. If you wish to join us, you may. Otherwise . . ." She looked up at him. "I hope to see you again someday."
He shook his head. "I'll not join them."
"Then that is your--"
"I can't. The guard won't stand for an exiled convict bearing blades. It would be disruptive for no purpose." He returned his sword to its sheath--he must have taken one from the bodies in Edgewood. "If you insist on staying with the others, I'll do what your guard does not--watch out for you. Would that be sufficient?"
He meant would she still vouch for him, to say he "rescued" her. Someday, perhaps, a young man would give her that soulful look and not want anything more than her kind regard. Ronan wasn't that young man. But he was what she needed right now. So she agreed and returned to camp with Tova.
Twenty-four
When Ashyn didn't see Ronan the entire next day, she began to wonder if he was there at all. It would be a clever scheme. Promise to guard her from a distance, then hurry on ahead and find his soft mat and hot food, and wait for her to arrive. She trusted, though, that he wanted his freedom and a reward enough not to risk it. To be honest, she only suspected him of ill intent because she was disappointed not to see him. The others were hardly spirited conversationalists.
The next morning she sought Ronan out. For very good reason. They'd woken to find Quintin's sleeping blankets empty. Empty and cold. Worse, she'd had to prod Gregor to hunt for him
.
"He's missing," she'd said. "Possibly injured, out there in the Wastes."
"My responsibility is with you, Seeker."
Which he was doing a poor job of, as Ronan had said. She'd ordered him out to hunt and then gone looking herself--both for Quintin and for Ronan.
Finding Ronan turned out to be simple enough. She walked straight to the biggest outcropping of rock and he was there, settled into his sleeping blanket. He roused at her footsteps, as if he'd only just gone to bed.
"Quintin is gone," she announced as he stood.
He peered at her, feigning sleepy confusion as if trying to determine what reaction would best suit the situation.
"You knew that, I presume?" she said.
A flicker of anger. "If you are accusing me--"