Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses) (2 page)
Read Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses) Online
Authors: Sharon Shinn
So she nodded once, sharply. He pushed open the door and pulled her into the taproom, where again she almost fainted at the welcome warmth of the air and the delicious scents coming from the kitchen. She must have closed her eyes. When she opened them, a ragged-looking girl was approaching and waving them toward an unoccupied table.
“I suppose you want breakfast?” she was saying.
“Yes,” Tover replied. “Eggs and sausage for us and our driver. Ale for my driver and me, and milk for my sister. But first—is there a place my sister can have a moment’s privacy? We’ve been in the coach for hours.”
The girl pointed down a narrow hallway. “I’ll put in your order,” she said, and turned away.
The “privacy” accommodations were smelly but infinitely better than a bush on the side of the road, and Karryn used the pitcher of chilly water to wash her face as well as her hands. No mirror in the small room, but she supposed that was just as well. She could only imagine how she looked, with her thick dark hair in unmanageable tangles and her green gown irretrievably wrinkled. Her face, usually rather ruddy of complexion, was no doubt pinched and a little pale. All in all, she probably
looked
as mad as Tover would claim she was if she began to throw any kind of tantrum.
looked
as mad as Tover would claim she was if she began to throw any kind of tantrum.
She rejoined him and followed him to the table, casting surreptitious glances around the taproom as she went. Her heart sank. None of the occupants looked likely to offer her aid. At one table sat two ancient women accompanied by a granddaughter or a paid companion. At another table was a boisterous family, four shrieking children and their young and hapless parents. One solitary traveler sat up near the bar, a stocky, rather short, brown-haired man—or perhaps it was a woman—eating breakfast with a single-minded attention. A few rather villainous-looking men sat together or apart, some talking, some dicing, some looking morosely out the window.
No rescue to be hoped for from any quarter.
The unkempt barmaid approached their table bearing three large, steaming platters, and Karryn felt her stomach turn over. Food, that was what she needed. Once she ate something, she would be able to think more clearly. She would be able to figure out a plan.
She was forking up her second bite when they were joined by the driver, who pulled up a seat next to Tover. He was big, bald, and burly, with enormous hands. He had spoken very little so far on this journey, and not at all to Karryn, but she was more afraid of him than she was of Tover. There was something wicked about the way he watched her with his slitted black eyes. He wore so many weapons on his belt that he jangled every time he moved.
“Rear mare’s thrown a shoe,” he said to Tover as he reached for his glass of ale. “Take another thirty minutes before the smith here can get to her.”
Tover looked annoyed, then he nodded. “All right. Did you have the whole team unhitched and fed?”
The driver nodded. “How much farther do you want to go today? We’ll need to change the horses before long.”
“We have another fifty miles to cover, mostly on back roads.”
The driver nodded again. “You’re going to have to take the reins, then, because I’m about dead. Unless you want to stop here for a few hours and let me sleep.”
Tover glanced around the room. “Not here. Too well-traveled.”
The driver looked over at Karryn and gave her a leering smile. She shrank back into her chair, trying to make herself too small to merit his attention. “Think her prissy uncle’s going to be riding after her to make a daring rescue?” he said with a sneer.
Tover snorted. “Jasper Paladar couldn’t rescue a cat from a garbage pail,” he replied. “Still. There are guards in Forten City who were loyal to Rayson Fortunalt. Paladar could round them up to come riding after Rayson’s daughter.”
The guard was still smiling at Karryn. “Think your uncle Jasper’s going to come after you anytime soon?” he asked in a crooning voice. “Come riding up on a big old stallion like some storybook hero?”
Without thinking, Karryn snatched up the salt cellar from the middle of the table, intending to fling it in the driver’s smug face. Tover’s palm slammed down over her wrist, pinning her hand to the table and nearly breaking the bones.
“I warned you to behave,” he said icily into her ear. “You’re a serramarra—show some decorum.”
She was trying not to whimper, but his hold was so painful that it was hard to swallow the sound. She stared down at the scarred table, despising both of them.
“Look at me,” Tover said in a slightly louder voice. “Serra—look at me.” He pressed down on her wrist even more heavily. She smothered a yelp and looked up. He was staring at her with those cold blue eyes, and for the moment he looked even more dangerous than his companion.
“You will not throw things at Darvis,” Tover said in a slow, deliberate voice. “You will not do anything to draw attention to yourself. Or I will rent a room here for the day and effectively make you my wife in this very inn. If you do not behave very, very well, that is exactly what will happen. Do you understand? Is that what you want?”
Between the pain and the fear, Karryn almost could not draw breath. She stared up at him; nothing registered but his face. Outside the outline of his cheekbones and earlobes there was only formless white space—nothing. No humanity, no hope, no rescue. She nodded.
“No,” she choked out. “Please. Not here. Let us travel on.”
Now Tover lifted one finger to stroke her cheek. “You hear that, Darvis? The serramarra is not impressed by the squalid accommodations of roadside inns. She wants the luxury and comfort of Banlish Manor.”
She could hear the grin still in Darvis’s voice. “I think you’re missing a bet if you leave here too soon.”
“And I say I shall take this opportunity to prove to my lady how very gracious I can be.” Tover relaxed his grip on her imprisoned hand and almost gently lifted her fingers to his mouth. He pressed a real kiss on the back of her hand. “Remember, if you will, how hard I strove to please you.”
“Pardon me for interrupting,” said a dry voice just a few steps away.
All three of them nearly jumped out of their seats, for not even Darvis had seen the newcomer approaching. Karryn felt a sudden wild leap of hope—
A stranger, come to rescue me?
—that instantly died away. This small, unprepossessing person was the individual she had spotted when they first walked in, the one sitting up at the bar eating a hearty breakfast. Close up, it was clear the stranger was female, though dressed in the trousers and tight-fitting jacket usually worn by men who were soldiers. Like those men, she also sported a sword and a couple of knives in her belt, though she possessed nowhere near as many weapons as Darvis.
A stranger, come to rescue me?
—that instantly died away. This small, unprepossessing person was the individual she had spotted when they first walked in, the one sitting up at the bar eating a hearty breakfast. Close up, it was clear the stranger was female, though dressed in the trousers and tight-fitting jacket usually worn by men who were soldiers. Like those men, she also sported a sword and a couple of knives in her belt, though she possessed nowhere near as many weapons as Darvis.
“Ye-es?” Tover said in his haughtiest voice, drawing the word out into multiple syllables. It was his way of conveying without words the fact that he was a devvaser, the son of a serlord, and this anonymous creature was less than nobody.
The short woman completely ignored him. All her attention was on Karryn. “I just wanted to let you know something, my lady,” she said in a quiet voice. “If your husband is abusing you, I can help you get free of him and take you someplace safe.”
“Leave us, you insolent scum!” Tover snapped as Darvis leapt to his feet so fast his chair toppled to the floor. Karryn didn’t even have to hear the whine of weapons to know the driver had drawn a blade. Tover’s fingers tightened alarmingly around Karryn’s wrist.
The soldier woman was completely unimpressed. She still kept her gaze locked on Karryn’s, and there was a steady message in her dark brown eyes.
Trust me. I can help you.
“I have a horse out front,” she said. “We can ride away from your husband right now.”
Trust me. I can help you.
“I have a horse out front,” she said. “We can ride away from your husband right now.”
Karryn made an instant, rash decision. “He’s not my husband,” she panted. “He’s—”
Before she could complete the second sentence, Tover loosed a murderous oath and crashed to his feet, jerking her up beside him. Darvis vaulted across the table at the strange woman. Karryn screamed and tried to fling herself backward, away from Tover, away from Darvis, away from the sudden thicket of blades. But Tover held her fast and the table prevented any escape. She screamed again and cowered down, shielding her face with her free hand.
Darvis had engaged the woman in a swift and brutal knife fight. Tover was trying to haul Karryn away from the flashing blades but twice she was slammed by Darvis’s weaving body, once with such force that the table screeched away from both of them when she landed heavily against it. Karryn had expected the unknown woman to be dead on the floor within thirty seconds, but no, the smaller combatant was obviously holding her own. She lunged in when Darvis expected her to feint, for he grunted in surprise and then in pain, clapping a hand to his stomach and howling in agony or rage.
Unexpectedly, Tover dropped Karryn’s wrist and shook free his own sword. He fell into a stalking crouch and then flew at the woman, barely giving her time to draw her own long blade. Karryn shrieked and looked around for something heavy to fling at Tover’s head, to give the woman some advantage, however slight. But it was not necessary. With three quick slices of her sword, the stranger had parried Tover’s assault, knocked the blade from his hand, and run him through high on his right shoulder. Tover screamed and stumbled against the table, his hand clapped to his wound.
“I think these two are down for the moment,” the woman said coolly, turning to Karryn. “Grab your things and let’s run.”
Karryn was already racing for the door. No one in the tavern made a move to stop her, though literally every soul in the place, even the barmaid, was staring. “All my things are in the coach, but I don’t need them!” she cried. “Let’s just go!”
The soldier woman was hard on her heels as they scrambled through the door. “Which coach is yours?” she inquired. “Maybe we can find a way to disable it.”
Karryn came to a halt just outside the door and looked wildly around at the equipages lined up in the yard. She hadn’t been on the outside of Tover’s carriage often enough to know what it looked like, and he had not been stupid enough to attempt kidnapping in a carriage blazoned with his family arms. “I don’t know! One of the horses needs a shoe, that’s all I know.”
“Good enough,” the stranger said, tugging Karryn in the direction of a sturdy white gelding loosely tied to a hitching post. “That’ll slow them down. We’ll ride pillion till we’ve covered some distance and figured out what to do.”
Just then the tavern door swung open and Darvis charged through, bellowing. His shirt was covered with blood, but he hefted a sword high in his left hand. But the soldier woman surprised him again, darting forward to smash her head right in the middle of his chest. He cried out and went crashing down in the doorway, just in time to trip Tover as he rushed out.
“Go, go, go!” the stranger cried, shoving Karryn toward the gelding. She had her knife out again but Karryn didn’t see how she used it on either of the abductors; she was too occupied with climbing into the saddle and guiding the white horse over to the stranger’s side. The woman sheathed her blade, swung into the saddle behind Karryn, and kicked the horse forward all in one seemingly effortless motion. There was a scramble and curse behind them, but they were across the muddy yard, through the gate, and racing down the road before Karryn heard any real sounds of pursuit.
She was free!
Chapter 2
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