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Draven blinked too fast, took himself back a few steps again, and peered up at the wall, trying to hide the emotion on his face. “You see how the roof leans away? Jump from there. There’s a few blocks jutting out, you can’t see them from down here, but once up there, the path is clear. There’s a rope on the other side to help you down.”
I shrugged the violin over my other shoulder and studied the route from the villa roof, up the wall. It seemed insurmountable. But all important journeys began with impossible goals.
Draven chuckled. “For your skinny ass, this’ll be easy.”
“Make sure to watch my skinny ass, Warlord. You know you want it.”
He chuckled. “Get out of here, fool.”
I headed for the side of the nearest house. Hopefully its occupants wouldn’t hear my clambering along their rooftop.
“May the endless winds be at your back, Lark.”
I threw the warlord a wave and started the climb. Once at the highest point, the footholds became obvious, and the jagged blocks making up the Court of War’s exterior walls provided the way to its battlements at the top. I climbed steadily, one boot after the other, fingers dug into crevices, and made it to the top in quick time. At the top the wind buffeted from left and right, and beyond War’s court, the dunes rippled like a red ocean.
Three people waited below, their faces hidden in head wrappings. Draven’s people, the people of the sands. Good people. Pausing to catch my breath, I cast one final look over War’s pyramid and its red-tinged world. Draven had vanished, back to his life, back to making battle preparations. And Arin lay sleeping. That ache in my heart grew. I grasped the rope and began the descent toward the sand.
The wind was no less harsh when I reached the ground. It howled like an omen. One of Draven’s people nodded and slung a cloak around me, then handed me a wrap for my head, to keep the sand and sun at bay.
“Are you sure?” the man asked, his sand-encrusted eyes all I could see between the linen face-wraps. “Most want to leave Pain’s borders, not get inside.”
“I’m sure.”
“We go east, collect the kareel. It’ll be a steady ride from there.” He handed over a pouch of water. “Ration it, and we’ll get you there.”
I fell into step behind them, kept my head down, and marched on.
Guilt burned like an open wound. Arin would wake soon, the bed empty beside him. He never would have agreed to this. Knowing the Prince of Love, he’d have bound my wrists and my heart to stop me from leaving.
“We have to hurry.” Razak was right about one thing. It was time I went home.
“All right,” my guide said. “Just so long as you keep up.” He picked up the pace.
I glanced behind us and found War’s court already blurred by windblown sands. Good. A little further, and the court would be gone altogether.
When Arin woke, he’d hate me with all his heart. As I deserved.
CHAPTER46
Arin
Lark wasn’tin bed when I woke, which was unusual for him. He’d probably be back soon.
I lay alone, thinking of last night, of his gentle touch, his many kisses, and his cool tears. I could still feel him, still hear his voice whispering in my ear, hear his demands to fuck him.
These were not the best of times to fall in love, or perhaps they were? I’d lost my home, my court, my family, but I had Lark. And with Lark, all at once, everything was worth fighting for.
I threw off the sheet, washed up, and dressed, then went in search of Lark. I’d slept late and stopped in the kitchens to raid the after-breakfast scraps. Lark hadn’t been seen at breakfast, but he often skipped it. As I left, a few members of Ogden’s council stopped me to tell me of a meeting planned for sundown to go over the strategy for getting the warriors to Pain’s borders. I agreed to meet and sought Draven for our morning training sessions. He proved elusive too, probably with Lark, perhaps discussing any weakness in Razak’s borders.
The day passed too quickly, stolen by menial tasks and interruptions by the nobles, asking after my old court and any future plans. By the time the sun had begun to set, and I was due at the council meeting, Lark still hadn’t returned. It didn’t matter, he’d be at the meeting. And later, I’d see if we could take our dinner in our chambers. We’d drink wine on the balcony and watch the sun set, just him and I, stretching out the time we had left before readying for battle, and maybe I’d pin him against the balcony rail and take him like I had last night. The thought trilled desire, setting butterflies loose inside me.
Draven was in the council chambers, Noemi too. They had their heads together. Ogden nodded at my arrival. “Let’s begin.”
Lark wasn’t at the table. He’d be along in a little while. One of Ogden’s generals explained how war’s warriors would be split into three attacking fronts, like the prongs of a fork, and they’d breach Pain’s borderlands in three key areas.
I glanced at Lark’s empty seat. A small, unsettling slither of unease trickled down my spine. He’d probably got distracted somewhere, caught by someone wanting him to juggle or spin a quick yarn, as had happened since he’d been a regular at the evening feasts. Still, he’d have been informed of this meeting. And while he didn’t think himself worthy of a seat at the table, he’d always made an appearance, if only to walk out again moments later.
“Has anyone seen Lark?” I asked, interrupting Ogden’s general discussing the logistics of supplying a marching army.
