“Not safe here in this wood?” I asked. “Or in Kyruna?”
“Both,” he said. “I’ll explain when we’re home. Please. Let’s go.”
As I mounted my mare, I realized Syndrian had not packed a torch. I wondered if that meant he’d not intended to return to Omrora tonight. I wondered if perhaps there was someone at the tavern or someone here in Kyruna he’d intended to stay with.
“You’ve no torch,” I said quietly, settling onto Poet’s back. The words hung between us like an accusation—an accusation I had no right to make.
He grunted, his long ponytail grazing his back as he nodded. “Aye.”
“Whyever not?” I blurted, curiosity getting the better of me. “Were you planning to stay with someone?” As soon as the words passed my lips, I regretted speaking them.
Syndrian’s penetrating gaze roamed my face, as if searching for the hidden question behind the one I’d asked. “Aye,” he admitted. “But not in the way you might imagine.”
“I am certain you don’t have the first idea what I imagine.” I echoed his words but refused to look at him. The sour taste of jealousy was unfamiliar on my tongue. Jealous of what or whom—and why I allowed myself to feel anything at all for my brother’s cutler friend—I did not want to know.
“Will it be safe to ride back into the village? To light my torch by the public lamps?” I worried my lower lip with my teeth, embarrassed to admit another item I’d failed to pack in my haste to leave home was a fire striker.
“Absolutely not. We cannot go back the way we came.” He shuddered, a powerful movement that shook the ponytail that rested on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of your torch. I’ll take care of you.” He patted the sheath at his waist and then frantically clamped his hands around the perfectly worn leather. Muttering a stream of soft curses, he met my eyes, his chin set firm.
“My fire striker must have come loose as we fled the pub, or perhaps that stableman...”
A sinking realization raised the hairs on my arms, and I too, trembled. With no way to light my torch, we would be exposed the entire ride back.
“The vengersax are thick between here and Omrora,” he confirmed, tapping his mace. “This might buy time for one of us to escape, but I don’t think we’d stand a chance against even two of them without a fire. If a flock were to come upon us…” He unwrapped his cloak from the back of his horse. He shrugged it over his broad shoulders and buried his distinctive hair deep inside the hood. He urged the beast close to me and held out a hand. “Give me the torch,” he said. “I’ve no time to waste.”
“What do you mean to do?” I asked, my palms clammy.
“I’ll ride quickly back into the village,” he vowed, gritting his teeth and again rubbing his face, anxiety plain on his expression. “Stay here. Stay hidden. It’s not safe for you—”
“What about those hooded riders?” I asked. “Do they work for the shire-reeve? Will they bring order to the…” I had no words for what I’d seen back there. A crime?
The chaotic crowd we’d fled could not have been managed by three riders. I was certain the haste in Syndrian’s actions meant he knew what we would have faced had we stayed behind. Those riders were not sent to restore order. They were likely guardians, or worse, on the payroll of the family whose influence and treasury controlled this place.
He barked a laugh and confirmed my suspicions. “No one works for the shire-reeve in these parts.” He motioned for my torch. “Please, Lady P—miss, please. I’ll ride ahead and light the torch. I will return as quickly as I am able. Do you have at least a quarter silver in your purse? If anything happens to me, you must ride southwest to the inn. They’ll have a room reserved under the word Sin.”
My body jolted at the implication. Had he reserved a room for the night so he could engage in sinful activity with someone here in Kyruna?
He shook his head as if reading my thoughts, or perhaps the horrified expression I was unable to keep from my face. “No one here knows the word is also conveniently short for my name. Donotgive your real name under any circumstances. I keep a room reserved at the inn in case my time at the pub runs late. The deposit I left will cover the stay, but they’ll charge extra for every twig for the fire and every cup of water you drink. Watch your expenses there. Thieves are thick in Kyruna, and they will not hesitate to try and relieve you of every coin.”
I had precious few coins for the taking. But more than that, spending a night alone in an inn, not knowing what had become of Syndrian… There was simply no way I could allow that to happen. He’d secured my safe escape from the tavern before I even understood I was in danger. If all we needed was fire for the torch before riding back to Omrora… A thrill seized my chest as I considered what I might do. A terrified, but exhilarating thrill as I contemplated doing something long forbidden.
“I would send you there now, but I fear with what happened…” He grimaced and roughly paced a small circle. “One small act of violence can set off…reactions.” He shook his head and rolled his shoulders, as if bracing already for a fight. “No place in Kyruna will be stable tonight, but if we have no other option, make your way to the inn and lock the door. Secure it closed with any furniture you can move. I’ll come for you in the morning once things settle down.”
“You can’t be serious,” I insisted, shaking my head. I refused to consider any plan that would separate us. “What will you do? Sleep under the stars with a torch at your feet so you’re not pecked to death? No, Syndrian. No.”
“What do you mean no?” The tilt of his chin and the tightness in his knitted brows belied his confusion. “You cannot mean to ride home without a torch. I cannot abide—”
“I think I have another option. I just need a moment.” I prodded Poet back the way we’d come, urging her deeper into the thick wood.
“Lady, please!” Syndrian followed, leaping from his horse.
Twilight was giving way to early evening, darkness seeping over the sky like wine spilled on table linen. I weighed my options and a strategy formed quickly in my mind. I squinted and rubbed my forehead as I played through the risks. If I was able to light the torch quickly, I might arrive home in time to join my parents at the table for dinner. I would be far more successful discouraging questions about my afternoon adventure if I returned home in time to share the evening meal.
However, I wasn’t certain I could light the torch at all, let alone quickly.
My hands trembled even considering what I was about to do. Precious minutes would be wasted if I tried and was unsuccessful. Every moment we stayed here, hidden among the trees, was time we could have spent lighting the torch in the village. At least that outcome was clear. We would find fire at the public lamps… Yet we might also find a crowd and chaos that would cause further delays…
The hooded riders would be looking for either justice or vengeance. Syndrian hadn’t said as much, but if the Otleich family really did control Kyruna, I suspected the riders were agents of the family.