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The exchange took only a moment, and her guardsmen had not yet caught up with her. Her hersirs had not even noticed the man, so much were they gaping at their surroundings.
But Sidroc had noticed.
When they were outside in a corridor, he stomped up to her and demanded, “What did Mylonas want with you?”
“Mylonas? The rat-face?”
“Precisely.”
“He wants me to prove that I am not here to trade goods. Or spy.”
“That is not all he wants.”
“What?”
Sidroc motioned for Ivar, her other three guardsmen, and the four hersirs to follow him into a side chamber. It opened onto a long garden that ran in terraced ledges all the way down to the sea wall.
“Finn and I must leave the city in the morning—”
“I did not think you were leaving so quickly,” she interrupted. For some reason, her body hummed with alarm. She did not want him to go.
“Not home, princess. A mission. A short military mission that will take us out of the city for a sennight or so. Ivar,” he said then, turning away from her, “you must take special care to stay with the princess at all times, and to alert others where she goes. People disappear in Miklagard, ofttimes under the directive of Mylonas.” Addressing Drifa again, he said, “I would not want to be forced to rescue your sweet arse from a desert harem where you have been sold as a slave.”
“Do not be ridiculous. That would never happen.”
He arched his brows.
“It has happened more times than I can count. And, clearly, you have come to the attention of the eparch. Not to mention General Sclerus, who has a hatred of anything Arab.”
“I am not Arab,” she said with consternation.
“Part Arab,” he corrected dryly.
Ivar put a hand on Sidroc’s shoulder in a manly way. “Thank you for the warning. We will take special care.”
Sidroc turned to her hersirs, who stood listening to the information intently. “Wulf, how much longer will you be in the city?”
Wulf shrugged. “No more than a sennight, but if there is that great a danger, we will take Princess Drifa with us.”
And cause them further delay. I would ne’er hear the end of it.
“I would accompany Princess Drifa to the meeting with the eparch but I must leave the city afore dawn,” Sidroc continued, ignoring her totally. “Would you accompany her, Wulf? In fact, all of you?” He indicated her hersirs as well as the guardsmen.
That seemed a bit of an overreaction to her, but she had more to be annoyed over. “I am standing right here, Sidroc. You do not need to speak as if I am invisible. And let it be known, Wulf, I make my own decisions, and I am not leaving Miklagard until I am ready.”
The men rolled their eyes in the manner men did when they thought their women were acting illogically. In other words, when they did not agree with them.
“I have a bad feeling,” Sidroc insisted in the end.
“I am not your problem,” she asserted, concluding the meeting. Or so she thought.
“Unfortunately, that appears not to be true.” Before she could question that odd statement, Sidroc turned to the others. “I would speak to the princess in private for a moment. Ivar, you can stand in the doorway and watch if you are concerned about the impropriety.”
“I have no interest in—” she started to speak, but Sidroc took her upper arm in a vise-like clasp and nigh dragged her into the garden and past the ever-present fountain. With no doubt panic-stricken irrelevance, she noted that this must be a bird garden. Dozens of different kinds seemed to be chirping and singing. When they were far enough from curious ears, he inhaled and exhaled several times.
“Well, spit it out. ’Tis obvious you have something stuck in your craw. Again.”
He glared at her. “I’m trying to find the words.”
