“It just is,” she said. “I can’t explain it, but I accept your apology.”
She itched with the urge to spring away, far from this strangely enthralling human who annoyed and beguiled her by turns. The laugh lines that added such character to his features fanned from the corners of his eyes once more as he grinned. “I’m glad to hear it. We’ve a long journey ahead of us. I didn’t fancy sleeping with my back to a wall every time I closed my eyes.”
A betraying twitch of her mouth made her nostrils flare as she bit back an answering smile. “I only accepted your apology. I didn’t promise not to tear your arms off before we reach the monastery.”
His booming laughter made heads turn. Serovek stepped back, looped the reins across his horse’s neck and swung gracefully into the saddle. “Farewell, firefly woman,” he said from his lofty seat. “I look forward to our meeting again in a few days.”
Anhuset remained in place as he and his retainers rode through the gates and away from Saggara, watching until they disappeared in the sun’s radiance. His valediction echoed in her mind.
Firefly woman.
Chapter Three
I’m not sure I’d know what to do with a hair ribbon.
Serovek watchedthe lone rider guide her horse up the steep path toward High Salure’s barbican. Even were he not expecting her arrival, he would have recognized her anywhere simply by her posture in the saddle—tall, confident, and graceful. She was bundled against the cold in a heavy cloak with a hood to cover her hair and shield her face and eyes from the winter sun. High boots sheathed her legs to her lower thigh, adding extra warmth to the layers of trousers and wool tunic she wore. Her cloak shifted with the horse’s motion, revealing glimpses of her hunting leathers. Her hands were bare. Gloves didn’t work well when you possessed claws at the ends of your fingers.
That Brishen’s second-in-command had volunteered to accompany him on the journey to deliver Megiddo’s body to the Jeden monastery still surprised him, but he was no less pleased for it. The last time he’d been in sha-Anhuset’s company for any length of time, they’d prepared to face a horde of ravenous demons, and she’d skewered him on the length of his own sword. He looked forward to hours less horrific and bloody spent with her and her acerbic wit.
As if she sensed his scrutiny, she raised her head. The yellow shine of her eyes glittered in the shadows of her hood as her gaze unerringly landed on him where he stood on the battlements, braced against the wind that howled down the mountainside and through the col. She lifted a hand in greeting before nudging her horse to a faster gait.
He left his frigid perch, taking the stairs that led down to the great hall in a narrow spiral. A wave of heat buffeted him as he passed the lit hearth. The candles in their sconces and the lamps hung from chains cast a welcoming glow across the room. Newly laid rushes smelled of dried lavender, combining with the scents of supper being prepared in the kitchens. For all that this was a military fortress in service to the Beladine kingdom, it was a lavish place much spoken about by the local gentry. Serovek, Lord Pangion, had spared no expense in turning High Salure into a stately home as well as a formidable fortress.
He met Anhuset at the entrance to the barbican where a contingent of his men had gathered to observe the Kai woman’s arrival. Some called out greetings, a handful meeting her halfway to walk beside her horse as they escorted her to the barbican. These soldiers had patrolled borders with her and the Kai who served with her, and several had aided in rescuing her liege from raiders paid to torture and kill him.
Sha-Anhuset had ever been forthright in her opinions regarding humans. They were hideous to look upon, possessed strange customs, and suffered from questionable culinary preferences. More than once, Serovek had choked down laughter at her obvious revulsion for human expression and behavior.
Despite that, she was also a warrior with an understanding and admiration for those who served in the role of soldier as she did, be they Kai or human. She returned his men’s greetings, calling those she recognized by name, and wishing them good fortune in Common tongue so all could understand.
He saluted her when she finally stood before him, holding her horse’s reins in one hand, and a decorative box in the other. “Sha-Anhuset,” he said, not bothering to disguise his pleasure at seeing her here in his home. “Welcome to High Salure.”
Faint consternation flitted across her sharp features. For all that she was graceful in her movements, she gave a stiff bow before offering him the box. He took it, cursing when it jumped in his hand. He almost dropped the thing before tightening his grip. Something inside the container thrashed against the sides and the top, scrabbling for a way out.
Anhuset’s yellow eyes, without noticeable pupil or iris, lightened a shade, and her mouth turned up at one corner. “Margrave. A gift from thehercegesand thehercegesé. A delicacy at a Kai table, as you’ve witnessed yourself.”
Serovek edged open the lid for a peek, before slamming it closed when an armored tail tipped with a stinger that dripped black fluid jabbed at him. A collective gasp rose around him, and every soldier surrounding them took at least three steps back. He raised an eyebrow at Anhuset who continued to watch him with that twist of amusement playing across her lips. “I’m very fond of scarpatine. And a female at that. Even better.”
He didn’t lie. A notorious dish favored by the Kai and served at celebrations, dinners of state, and to important guests not too terrified to attempt eating it, was indeed one of his favorites. This was Brishen’s nod to him in recognition not only of friendship, but also brotherhood. The only thing that confused him was the scarpatine itself. The Kai rarely used the females in the pie, only the males as the females were difficult to subdue and kill without getting stung, and their venom could be deadly. Were he not fast friends with Brishen and trusted him completely, Serovek might have wondered if thehercegeswasn’t trying to do away with him.
As if she heard his thoughts, Anhuset gestured to the box. “I’m to relay the message from thehercegesthat he couldn’t think of anyone more suited to battling an enraged female while enjoying the fight.”
His laughter echoed through the bailey, while his men snickered around him. The box with the angry scarpatine inside jumped in his hand. “I’ve always liked your cousin. Now to convince my cook I pay him enough to make the pie.” He held out the box to the soldier closest to him. “Take it to the kitchen.”
The man hesitated, glancing from one side to the other, as if silently asking for volunteers to take on the task. None of his cohorts stepped forward. He gingerly reached for the box before grabbing it with both hands. It jerked in his grip, the scarpatine’s tail striking the sides of the box with hard taps. The soldier took off for the kitchen at a jog, eager to be rid of his burden.
Another soldier offered to take Anhuset’s horse for stabling. She untied the satchel from its place behind the saddle and slung it over her shoulder before leaving her mount to the man’s care. Had it been any other woman, Serovek would have offered to carry her burden for her, but this was Anhuset. He didn’t relish having his hand bitten off for the effort.
She paced him as they passed under the barbican and into the bailey. A busy place full of clamor and chaos, only the briefest pause in the noise marked her arrival before resuming.
“Watch your step,” he told her, pointing to the depressions in the soft ground where rain had gathered from the day before, then iced over sometime during the night. Even with the sun high, those pools in the shade remained frozen. Winter had been long this year and spring slow to arrive.
He had never known her to be a chatty woman, though she never hesitated in expressing herself. Serovek was familiar enough with the Kai to know her taciturn manner was an individual trait and not one representative of the Kai in general. He didn’t mind carrying the conversation. Anhuset didn’t say much, but she had an expressive face and revealed a lot more than she was probably aware of and would be horrified to learn, especially from him. He bit back a smile.
“Did you have a good journey to High Salure?”
She shrugged. “Good enough. No one tried to kill me on my way here, though it’s damn bright today.”
He ushered her to the citadel’s main entrance. “Let’s get you out of the sunlight.”