To Darkness Fled (63 page)

Achan spun around to see Brien, his scraggly thief from
Ice
Island
, shadowed by three others. Heat flooded into Achan's face. Caught being bested by a woman.

"You want I should teach that healer lad a lesson?" Brien asked.

Achan relaxed and reminded himself that no one knew Sparrow was a woman. "No. Thank you, Brien. The lad is finally growing into his boots. Been trying to toughen him up for a while now."

Brien and the soldiers chuckled and wandered off. Achan stewed beside the moat until his violent shivering forced him inside. He stormed though the dank keep and up to his room, adding his own small river to the damp floors.

Everyone was already there.

One look from Sir Gavin and the old knight rushed forward. "What happened? Did you fall in the moat too?"

Achan studied Sparrow out of the corner of his eyes. She stood by the window, hugging her shivering arms. He unlaced his doublet and pried it off, doing his best to act nonchalant. "Sparrow bested me. For the first
and last
time, mind you." He peeled his tunic over his head, wadded it into a ball, and pitched it at Sparrow. It whacked her in the face and she squeaked. "Well done, Sparrow."

"Yes, well done, minnow!" Kurtz said.

"Gracious, don't kill him, Vrell." Sir Gavin's mustache curled. "We can't show up in Armonguard with a black and blue prince. Go easy next time."

Laughter rang out.

Achan shot Sir Gavin a bland look. "Fear not for my well being. It is I who'll no longer be going easy on Sparrow." He spun around the room, trying to locate his pack with one working eye. He fixated on Sparrow's pale face and cast her a challenging, one-eyed stare.

She grinned, a smile that vitalized her whole face despite her tangled, wet hair and dirty cheeks. Achan's stomach zinged.

"I assure you, Your Majesty," she said, "I do not need you to go easy on me. I can take anything you toss my way."

35

For an hour that afternoon, the knights and Achan discussed the future. The plans for leaving the next day, what would happen in Carmine, and of course, more discussion over Achan's future bride. The knights talked, actually. Achan simply sat, overwhelmed, stewing and daydreaming--even dozing at one point. Thankfully, Sir Gavin dismissed him early. Achan entered into his chamber to see Sparrow standing at the window that overlooked the courtyard below.

Her eyes widened. "Forgive me. My new room does not have a window. I thought you were meeting with the knights, so..."

Achan closed his eyes and peeked through Sir Gavin.

He is too young to marry
, Sir Eagan said.
Why not focus on a long betrothal? Give him time to get used to the idea a bit more.

What's to get used to? He can figure it out, he can. If he needs help, he's got me, eh?

Thank you, Kurtz, for your offer, but that is not what concerns me.

Achan pulled away from the discussion and sighed. "Aye, they're still...talking. Sir Gavin excused me. The conversation had begun to annoy." He didn't want to explain the ongoing debate over who he should marry. For here stood Sparrow and he could no longer see her as anything but a pretty young woman in trousers. A breeze from the window blew a wisp of ebony hair across her alabaster cheek.

She smiled and brushed the strand away.

What folly. Why was he such a fool where women were concerned? Why did he continually choose the wrong ones? Why couldn't he simply accept his position with grace and marry whomever the knights ordained would be best?

He recalled what Poril had always said of his stubborn spirit.
Ah, yer a fool, yeh are, boy. Had to smart off. Had to fight back.

Achan had never liked being ordered around.

"Are you well, Your Highness?"

Sparrow moved to the center of the room. Her wide green eyes were fixed on him, her slender eyebrows pinched together.

"As well as anyone in my position would be, I suppose," he mumbled.

She walked toward him, toward the door. She was leaving? Achan reached out and grabbed her elbow. He let his grip slide down her arm and caught her hand. A tingle danced up his arm. "Where are you going?"

"I-- " Her cheeks tinged pink. "I-I should not be..."

Achan pulled her close and reached up with his free hand to tug out the thong in her hair. With both hands, he combed her silky hair around her sweet face.

Her lips parted, her breath a tremor on his neck. He held her warm cheeks in his hands and drew his thumb over her lips, marveling at the softness of her skin.

What could she be thinking? He didn't dare look inside, for fear it would ruin this moment.

He tilted his face down and closed his eyes. She inhaled a sharp breath and tensed beneath his hands. His lips pressed against hers. They were soft and sweet like honey. Warmth shuddered through him as her breath mingled with his, entered his mouth and seized his soul.

She grabbed two fistfuls of his tunic and tugged him closer, deepening the kiss. Her hands snaked up the back of his neck, into his hair, and held tight.

A door clicked shut. Sparrow turned to stone in his arms. Achan broke away and found no one there. He frowned, uncertain if the noise had come from the door to his room or Sir Caleb's. He turned back barely in time to see Sparrow's hand flying toward him. It struck his cheek with the force of a cham bear. He staggered sideways to keep his balance.

He set his hand to his cheek and found the skin hot. "What was that for?"

She blushed, her eyes liquid with tears. "I would think it would be obvious."

He sucked in a deep breath but could think of no
obvious
answer. "First my eye, now this? For not wanting to kill, you're a violent woman, Sparrow."

She propped her hands on her hips. "
Never
kiss a girl without asking first."

"Why not?" He massaged his smarting cheek.

"Well...because...it is rude. She might not want you to."

"How am I supposed to know that? I've never kissed anyone at my own instigation."

Sparrow raised her eyebrows. "You kissed Jaira."

Curse Jaira Hamartano to the Lowerworld forever. "That doesn't count."

"Beska?"

"
She
kissed
me
." Looking back, something occurred to him. Sparrow
had
been jealous.

Her voice wavered. "Not even Gren?"

Achan shook his head slightly, feeling odd to be speaking of Gren. Why did girls have to talk so much? He met her eyes and grinned. "
May I
kiss you, then?"

She shrank back. "Absolutely not!"

He stiffened, as if she'd slapped him again. "Is this because I spared Polk? I'm sorry, Sparrow. Prison is fairer than death. Esek had been threatening his family."

Her scowl faded. "You have a kind heart. It is not a thing to apologize for."

"Why, then?"

Her brows pinched. "Because I am
not
a wanton woman. I explained that fully out--"

"It was only a kiss. Don't get your britches in a bind."

She pursed her lips and huffed through her nose. "My britches are
not
in a bind. I do not expect you to understand having been raised by... Well, I am simply not the kind of girl who kisses a man she does not intend to marry."

Marry? Could he marry Sparrow? It was laughable. He could imagine Sir Caleb's response to the idea. "Well, what if--"

She held up a finger. "Do not say things you are not permitted to say."

He straightened to his full height. "I can say what I want."

"Then do not waste your breath saying things we shall both regret."

"
I
won't regret it."

"This is utterly inappropriate. You should never have entered a room with a woman alone. Have you no propriety?"

"Me? This is
my
room, Sparrow. And you're the woman running around in trousers. I'm no expert at propriety, but I'd say you were in violation first."

"
I
was simply looking out your window, as my room does not have one. I will leave. Good day, Your Highness."

"Sparrow, wait."

But she stormed past like a winter wind and jerked the door shut behind her.

Pig snout. Achan fell back on his bed and stared at the low timber ceiling. It had been going so well there for a moment. Hadn't she kissed him back? A moment of abandon--bah! No doubting it. He was a miserable failure at romance.

The door to Sir Caleb's room scraped open. Achan twisted his head to see Kurtz closing the door behind him, a handful of clothing under his arm.

Achan sat up, heart thumping wildly. Had Kurtz entered back when Achan heard the click? Back when...?

Kurtz crept to Achan's door, eyes shifting slightly as he reached for the handle.

Achan jumped to his feet. "Kurtz!"

The knight paused, facing the door.

"Kurtz...uh...please sit a moment." Achan swallowed, for his mouth had gone quite dry. "It, um...what you saw...it wasn't what it looked like. I can explain. Sparrow's not--"

Kurtz pulled open the door and spoke to the floor. "Your business is your own, it is." He swept out the door as fast as Sparrow had.

Achan groaned and fell back onto his bed.

Pig snout!

* * *

Vrell fled down the stairs, trying unsuccessfully to stopper her tears. Her boot caught and she stumbled down the last four steps. She caught herself on the door jamb at the foot of the stairwell and held tight, gripping the stone as if doing so might remove the last few minutes of her life.

How could she have been so foolish! She had convinced herself that she had misunderstood Achan's behavior at the waterfall. How wrong she had been! Had she encouraged him? But they had been playing games since they had entered Darkness. She turned her back to the curve of the tower and sank, weeping to the floor. Silent wails shook her.

Approaching footsteps in the hallway broke her tirade. She gasped in short breaths, calming herself, hoping the person would pass right up the stairs without seeing her. She smoothed her hair back behind her head, twisting it into a tail, though she no longer had a thong to fasten it.

A brown rope swept through the door jamb, followed by Atul's weathered face. As if he knew she were there already, he immediately looked down. "Master Sparrow, just the person I was
lookin
' fer."

"Me, Atul?" She sniffled and lifted her chin. "How can I assist you?"

He held a hand out. "Need approval on 'n alteration. Fer the prince's wardrobe."

"But that is something to ask Sir Caleb. He supervises the prince's wardrobe." She tucked her hair into the neck of her tunic and accepted his hand. A chill combed her spine when he pulled her to her feet.

"Sir Caleb's 'n a
meetin
'. 'Tis a simple matter. But my seamstress don't
wanna
proceed without a go-ahead o' some kind. Won't yeh take a look?"

"Of course." Vrell followed Atul to a room on the first level, attempting to keep the memory of Achan's kiss from kindling more tears. Atul held open the door.

Vrell walked inside. The long and narrow room was lined with shelves that were loaded with folded fabric. A small candle burned in an iron sconce mounted beside the door, muting the many colors of fabric to dull, earthy tones.

There were no seamstresses here.

The door clicked shut. Vrell spun around. Atul grabbed her and clamped a moist cloth over her mouth. The familiar,
bark-like scent called forth panic from every nerve in Vrell's body. This was the same substance Macoun Hadar had given her outside the Council meeting. She seized Atul's robes and pushed him, hooking his leg at the same time. His dark eyes flew wide as he thudded to the stone floor.

Vrell leaped over him, but Atul grabbed her ankle and she tripped. Her hands scraped down the bottom half of the door. She winced at the stinging splinters in her palms and tried to push herself up despite the pain. A fog settled over her mind, blunting her movements. She tried to focus, to call out to Achan, but even her mind had been crippled by the
soporific.