“Uh, those are a lot more.”
“I was afraid of that. Riders aren’t paid that much, and it’s more often in salt or edibles than coin, so I’m not certain I can afford to cover what he consumes. I will, however, suggest thathepay. Orthat he seek animals that aren’t raised and tended by people.” Vorik frowned into the distance, in the direction the dragon had gone. “He doesn’t always listen to me though. Dragons do whatever they wish, even those bonded to humans.”
Despite suggesting he couldn’t afford to pay for livestock, Vorik placed a couple more silver coins on the railing. Since Syla usually only paid for a portion of meat from the butcher, she had no idea what an entire sheep cost.
Vorik started to say something else, but his gaze snagged on the garden area in the side yard. In the morning sunlight, butterflies flitted from sunflower to marigold to zinnia, the flowers clustered near vegetables in various stages of growth. An attractive clump of eral pods waved in the breeze on their stalks, the versatile herbs a staple in kingdom gardens, thanks to their healing properties. More than once, Syla had used the milk of the pods to create a salve that neutralized rattlesnake venom.
“Is that a garden?” Vorik asked. “I see zucchini and cucumbers, and are thosestrawberries? This late in the season?”
Syla grimaced, reminded of her older brother’s love for the berries with his oatmeal and insistence that the farmers plant varieties that produce as late into the year as possible. Unfortunately, Serk wouldn’t be around to enjoy them any longer.
Tears threatened Syla’s beleaguered eyes again.
Oblivious, Vorik shuffled the fruit in his tunic, then decided to set the pears and apples on the porch railing, so he could trot over to investigate the garden.
Syla headed toward the kitchen. Strawberries had to be the least likely thing she ever would have expected to distract a deadly dragon rider, but as long as Vorik was preoccupied, she would check out the rest of the house. She grabbed a fireplace poker on the way past the hearth. Just in case.
Warily, she stepped through the kitchen doorway. Another hearth with an oven and cooking spits and racks took up much ofthe wall beside the door, leaving an island with a pot rack above it in the center. She crept around it with the poker in hand, but it was from behind a hutch that a threat leaped.
Syla opened her mouth to shout as a big man sprang upon her, and she swung the poker. He caught her wrist and flattened a hand over her mouth before she could utter her cry. Snarling, she tried to bite that hand.
“Your Highness,” a familiar voice whispered. “Ssh, please. It’s me.”
Sergeant Fel’s face came together for her in dim light coming through a shuttered window. He glanced between her and the doorway leading to the living room—and the garden.
Syla nodded to indicate she recognized him and wouldn’t yell, and he released her, drew his mace, and stepped back to guard the doorway.
“What are you doing here?” Syla also whispered, afraid Vorik would charge in and attack Fel.
As Vorik had pointed out, Fel had sent the soldiers after him in the tunnels. Vorik hadn’t seemed particularly affronted—or wounded in the least—by that, but he might try to take revenge on the bodyguard.
“I thought you were dead, Your Highness.” Despite remaining ready to deal with Vorik if he charged in, Fel took a moment to look her up and down. His expression was aggrieved when he added, “I was too late to keep that dragon from getting you, and it carried you off in itsjaws. I thought it would eat you.”
“It was ashe, and I… do have a few bruises from being carried that way, but she needed the services of a healer.” Syla waved toward herself.
Fel’s mouth dangled open. “Ahumanhealer?”
“I think we’re the only kind. At least I’ve never heard of dragon healers. They probably have a tough time applying bandages with their talons.”
She meant it as a joke, but he only stared at her. Shocked that she’d survived?
“What are you doing here?” she asked again, glancing toward the window. With the shutters closed, she couldn’t see Vorik, but she worried about him hearing them.
“I… came to fulfill your request. To find your Aunt Tibby.”
“Did the soldiers send you? Colonel Mosworth?”
His mouth closed, jaw tightening before he answered. “No.Hethought I was too old and injured to be of use, especially after we—afterI—let the dragon take you.”
“The dragon would have killed you if you’d reached her. It wasn’t your fault.”
Fel shook his head glumly. “Colonel Mosworth ordered me to go to the temple on Fountain and Fourth for healing, but I knew that would be packed with truly injured people, especially since Moon Watch was destroyed.”
Syla winced at the reminder.
“Besides,” Fel said, “your instincts were right. We need to find someone who can fix the shielder or put in a replacement. We can’t simplyregroup, station troops around the capital, and wait for the next attack.”
“Is that what the colonel is ordering be done?”
