Smoke and Rain (13 page)

"It was. Another got me in the chest. I was down, bleeding out in the gutter. She took care of the rest."

"Arman, I took care of those bodies. You telling me I was protecting
her
?" Wes looked betrayed. "You've taught her, but not that much. Those men looked like they just
died
, of their own will."

"I could barely stand. She held her hands up and they died. When they fell she came to me and pressed her hand to my wound. By the time we got home only a scar was left."
And teeth that don't belong.
"Do you know what that means?"

"I thought the last of them left months ago."

"So did I. So did she. This is as new to her as it is to me." He met Wes' eyes. "She is exactly what they've been searching for."

"This will bring them down upon us!" Kam spat.

"I know. That's why we're leaving."

Silence grew between them, and Wes shook his head angrily. Arman could see the smith steeling himself to speak. "She saved you, fine. I'm glad of it. You cannot repay all you're given or revenge all you have gotten."

"You have a life here, Arman. And a good woman, which is more than any of us could hope for. Why are you suddenly begging after this girl? You did not know she existed two months ago."

"I made that promise to Veredy when we were fifteen. As much as I want it, it isn't to be right now. Something inside me answers Alea. Heat takes over." He rolled his eyes at Kam's lewd gesture. "It's not lust. I know lust, I understand it well. This is different. Something has always been there, inside me. Something that belongs to her." His skin itched just thinking about it. "I thought it was because the Laen were in the Cockerel. I thought it was because she was near me, but it is more complicated than that. It is a part of me."

"I won't let you throw your life away, I won't let you go after her." Wes' words were bitter.

Arman knew if there was an argument, he had won. He rose. "I'll come home. When this is over, I'll come home." He drew his cloak tighter around himself and trudged away. He had not had a choice, not exactly.
So why do I feel like I just chose Alea over my friends?
Though discretion was important, he knew there were some conversations that simply had to occur over tea. Explaining everything to Veredy was one of them. The glow in her windows was a relief as much as he dreaded what he was about to tell her.

She opened the door before he even knocked. "I recognize your boot falls on my stairs." She opened the door wider. "You might as well come in. Kettle's just boiled."

He folded his cloak over the back of a chair, but was too nervous to sit. "How've you been?"

"You sound like we've not spoken in weeks." She caught his gaze and held it. "Kam said you were going to speak to them today."

"Just came from them." He picked a splinter from her table. "I'm sorry with how I left things."

"When you were about to ask to marry me, or afterwards when we dragged you bloody from the gutter?" Though the words were harsh, her voice was quiet.

"I can't help this, Ver. All my pretty words are used up and the most I can offer now is honesty." His shoulders sagged and exhaustion swept over him. "This is too hard."

"You have work, a good family. I enjoy our nights together. You would make a fine husband. We were going to wed when the time came. It would have been good, it would have been easy." She turned away, but he heard the catch in her voice. "Explain to me what changed. Explain to me why I'm suddenly not the woman in your future."

"Ver, it is infinitely more complicated than that." He closed his eyes tightly. "When I was 12, I saw this girl, a few years older than I. I don't even remember who she was, now. But my head whirled, my heart pounded, my thoughts were blurred. I was sick and couldn't sleep—when I did I was plagued with dreams of her. And yet, somehow, I was happy. It was bliss and terror. My world was suddenly controlled by someone else and she didn't even know it." He scrubbed his face with his hands. "It isn't what you think, but that's what I feel with Alea, but worse."

"I would have loved you."

"You still can, Ver, when I come back, I swear."

She whirled, confusion and pain stark on her soft features. "What in the world does that mean? You're leaving?"

He met her eyes. "I'm guarding her until she finds her people. It's my duty."

"Your duty? Damn, Arman, what are you, a soldier? And her people are dead!"

"Most of them are, yes. Some are waiting for her in Le'yan."

Veredy's hand flew to her mouth and she looked like she might be sick. "Fates, she's Laen?"

"I told you it was more complicated. I don't love her, Veredy, but part of me is bound to her." He risked a step closer and reached out a hand.

She eyed his hand for a moment, then took it. She moved close enough to embrace him, but made no move to do so. Her gaze inched over his features.

"What do you know of our city's founding."

"The Rakos?" Her hand grazed his cheek, her thumb pausing at his lips. "Your teeth." When he nodded she closed her eyes. "No. Don't say that. Please, just once more be Arman. Only Arman. The man I was going to marry."

He cupped her cheek in one rough hand. "I can be that for you." His kiss was careful and more painful a goodbye than anything. "And someday I will be again."

"I've watched you change since she arrived. You fit here perfectly before that, but it's no longer true."

"I'm not certain of that yet."

"I am." She pulled away and squeezed his hand. "Luck and love."

He would have stayed, he would have spent one more night with her, but he knew that pain would be too much. He gathered his things wordlessly and began the slow walk home. His eyes were fixed on his boots as they scuffed the paving stones.

Φ

The 44th Day of Valemord, 1251

The frozen ground on the city's edge crunched under Alea's boots. Her gloved hands gripped a small pouch. The grass was brown and frost rimmed each leaf. She knelt and shaped the dirt into a makeshift bowl. She drew a knobby brown candle and tinderbox from her pocket and wedged the former into the ground. Her hands trembled as she lit the wick.

The throaty Sunamen words were both familiar and strange on her tongue. "I know this is not a proper burial, or how you deserve to be put to rest. This is all I can do. You were the best family I could have asked for. Ihal
,
how I miss your guidance, and Ahren, your kindness. Merahn, your strength and happiness were a balm to me." She drew a breath. "Ahme'reahn ira Suna, murdered on the 11th of Lumord. Ahren ira Suna, murdered on the 11th of Lumord. Merahn ir Hirah, murdered on the 11th of Lumord." She continued, naming each of her family as the candle melted. She began to weep in earnest. "These I name are innocent and have done no wrong. May their greatness in life live on in tales and their actions not be in vain. May the gods rest their souls and those of the ones they loved. With these words I let you pass into peace." She placed the tatters of the
jahi
she had worn during the attack against the candle. The fabric lit. It still held a faint spicy scent. She stared at the candle for a silent moment. "Henceforth I am Dhoah' Lyne'alea of Le'yan. Lyne'alea ir Suna is dead."

Φ

Nails were clamped in Arman's teeth and a deep frown creased his face. He crouched on the Cockerel's common room floor repairing a cracked table leg. His eyes found Kepra in the doorway.

"Do you think you could break the ice off the roof?"

He nodded. "Once I'm through."

She leaned against the bar. "Where's Miss ir Suna? I've not seen her today."

"She's having a map copied from the library and waxed. She should be back soon." His words were careful, albeit muffled. His mother was an astute woman. It had taken her all of a single evening to piece together Arman's pointed questions and Alea's sudden decision to leave. He had yet to explain that he was going too.

"I expect I'll have to ask the Jehan's boy to do such chores when you've gone." Her gaze did not waver from his.

He rocked back on his heels and took the nails from his mouth. "You knew?"

She went to him. "You never could keep a secret from me. You look heartbroken and determined and excited in turns." She brushed the shaggy locks away from his brow like she had when he was a child. "Have you told Wes and Kam? Veredy?"

He grimaced. "I would rather swallow a hornet's nest than have those conversations again."

"They love you, Arman. We are loath to see you leave." She smiled sadly. "It would be worse, however, to see you stay here while half your heart rides away."

"I don't know what I feel, Ma."

"It's always complicated at first. Does she know you're going with her?"

"I've said as much, though I don't think she understands. There's too much in her head right now." His voice softened. "I love you, Ma."

She kissed his forehead. "And I, you. Be careful." She returned to the kitchen, but her preparations were quieter than usual. Arman turned back to the table leg and drove the last nails home.

Φ

When Alea returned late that evening lantern light glimmered down the stairs. Arman's door was half open, but she knocked. She entered when he called. His bed was a rumpled mess covered with breeches and shirts. "Arman, I had a question." She was scanning the list in her hand. "I've found a lot of this, but there are things I'm unsure about, and I worry about what I may have forgotten."

He rose and took the list from her. "This is a packing list."

"Yes. I've been getting ready to travel. How I'll find a horse is beyond me, but I'll manage. Can you think of anything I'm missing?" She glanced around his room. A bedroll and blanket were bound to a saddle frame. "What are you doing?"

His eyes were fierce when he looked up.

"You're coming with me?"

He sat on the bed. "When I first brought you here, with the Laen, I promised to help them.

"This will change you."

"You already have." Arman shook away the chill of prophecy in her words. "Whatever this city used to stand for, I will uphold." He fixed her with a pointed look. "If we are to make this journey, you must trust me. You must tell me things even— especially—when you are unsure."

She looked away.
The Sunamen don't confide.
"I don't know if I can."

"Then learn. Our world is running, hiding, fighting." He ran his tongue over his teeth. "And all due respect, milady, you make impractical decisions."

The expression on her face would have been indignant on less striking features. "I beg your pardon?"

"You could have begged asylum, but you chose not to. I understand—and am grateful on behalf of my city—for your reasoning, but it would have been easier."

"It would be selfish to risk bringing the Miriken down on Vielrona for my mere presence."

His mouth quirked. "Milady, when the world falls to ruin if you die, there is no such thing as selfish." He rested his hand on the bedpost nearest her. It was as close to placing a hand on her shoulder as he would allow. "I do understand you, a bit. You are terrified and guilt-ridden. Even with your power you feel helpless. You have incredible expectations to live up to."

She made a face. "You're not helping."

He waved the parchment. "Not to mention, milady, it would have been easier if I helped you with this list from the start. I'm afraid we might have doubles of a few things." His face grew serious again. "You have me. You may have entered a wounded girl, but you leave as the Dhoah' Laen with her Rakos guard at her side."

Φ

Arman's critical eye was better trained for composition and metals than horseflesh. He peered at the dozen animals in the market's auction stalls, but truthfully had little idea what he was looking for. He watched one man run his hands down the leg and look satisfied.
Wonderful. How am I supposed to be a guard if I can't even find suitable mounts?
Given their current terms, he doubted Kam would meet him, despite the polite note Arman had sent asking for help. The smaller man's family was Banis, and understood horses like a first language. He tried to get the auctioneer's eye when a shout interrupted him.

Wes wove through the crowd. He did not look any happier than before, but his anger seemed to have subsided. "You're not an easy man to find. We had to ask your Ma where you'd gone."

"I've been busy." Arman shifted. He still half expected the large man to start a row again. "What did you need? Did Kam get my note?"

"Nothing, but Kam and I have something to show you."

Arman glanced back at the horses. "Can it wait?"

Wes sighed. "Just come on. I promise it won't take long." He led Arman through the crowd to their forge. It was cleaner than when Arman had last been.
Hiram must be settling in.
Kam was in the wide covered alley that served as a makeshift courtyard. His brow furrowed as he adjusted the saddle on one of the two horses tethered there.

Arman stopped. "What's this? Where did you get these animals?"