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He takes a step forward, but Ion stops him with, “That’s far enough.”
The old man’s nostrils flare. “Since when do warriors not respect their elders?”
“I’m sorry, butno oneis to approach the princess by order of the deve.” Ion lifts his dagger another inch when it seems like the man is about to disregard him.
Our visitor plants his hands on his hips. “Bron, Luka says I must speak to you about Varron Haddend speaking at this afternoon’s mediation.”
“Apologies, sir, but there will be no more additions at this late hour. If you like, I will consider his name for the next new moon.”
The man scoffs, then again examines the contents of the table. “You dare flout our ways?”
Only the Mother knows what possesses me to open my mouth, but I can’t let his comment pass unchecked. “When your ways are meant to weaken the realm, yes.”
His eyes bulge. “You insolent little whore.”
“How original,” I say drolly. “I’ve never heard that one before.”
“I would ask you to take your leave now, Teo,” Ion says, moving to put himself more directly in the man’s path, the tip of the knife leading the way.
With a twist of his mouth, this Teo person turns on his heel and leaves, not bothering to shut the door behind him.
Sheathing his dagger, Ion closes the door.
“Please tell me that wasn’t someone Luka loves and respects,” I plead. “I don’t know why I can never keep my mouth sealed.”
Bron grins. “He’s his uncle.”
“No!”
“But don’t worry. There’s no love lost between them. Teo was the last deve’s second for close to twenty years.”
♦♦♦
We get some more practice in before Bron is needed downstairs for the mediation and Kata indicates that she has work to catch up on. That leaves Ion and I to go out to the stables to visit Glory.
The Great Hall is much busier than usual as we pass through. Bron is there in the thick of it, directing warriors to move tables and benches to the edges of the room. There are a lot of unfamiliar faces, and I’m grateful for Ion’s reassuring presence since Luka is nowhere to be found.
Outside, the air is cool, but the sun is shining as we cross the courtyard to the stable entrance. Glory is happy to see me, probably thinking I’m going to take her out for a run. “No such luck, my beautiful girl,” I murmur to her. “Maybe our big bad barbarian will have time for us tomorrow.”
I turn at the sound of clomping hooves. Stable boys are leading in a group of the giant war horses that need to be untacked and brushed down, Nightshade among them. Glory and I watch and listen to the activity from her stall. Ion, not liking to be idle, helps them work and I giggle at their bawdy, adolescent jokes.
When Ion returns for me, I ask him, “How long do you think the mediation will take?”
He jogs a shoulder and peers down at me. “Why?”
“Do you think we can slip in and watch from the back?”
Chuckling, he leads me out. “Just remember if your presence starts a riot that it wasn’t my idea.”
“A riot?” I trot along behind him, happy to note that the damaged muscle in my leg isn’t as sore as it was this morning. “That’s hardly likely, now is it?”
“We’ll see.” He pushes back a lock of his dark hair that’s come loose from its queue. “If the deve wasn’t going to be there, I wouldn’t be taking you into a room full of possibly hostile people.”
“Ion?”
“Hmmm?”
“Thank you.”
