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“I did,” Lark said, grinning. “You continue to surprise, Draven. And you have my thanks for that.”
“You both need to rest, properly—in your beds,” the warlord said, using his no-argument tone. “I know neither of you will stay in a bed long, but just give me one day and night of rest, and after that, we’ll discuss where we go from here. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I said, relieved, and a little light-headed.
Lark nodded and turned toward the playing boys. I accepted Draven’s hand on the return to my tent.
“Stay,” Draven ordered, as I planted my ass on the bed. “When you’re up to it, I’ll bring you some food. If I see you out of this tent before our agreed upon time, my wrath will be so legendary Lark will write a song about it.”
I was about to deny I needed his help, when he gave me the narrow-eyed warlord glare that made it clear there was no room for argument. “I almost lost you out there,” he said, then softened. “Allow me to do this for you.” He tipped my chin up, flicked my bangs aside, and smiled. The moment stretched, and it seemed he might say something heartfelt and poignant, likeI love you.
“I’m glad you’re all right, Arin.”
“The desert cannot claim me,” I said, flippantly, relieved we weren’t mentioning love. All I wanted to do was flop back on the bed and close my eyes again to stop the tent from spinning.
“No,” he agreed. “Because you’re mine.”
It wasn’t until he’d left, and I’d planted my head on the pillow, that the impact of his words landed. What had he meant bymine?
I couldn’t think on it, not with the throbbing in my head. I’d rest, and tomorrow, Lark, Draven, and I would work everything out. Until then, I was at sleep’s mercy, and I surrendered the moment my head touched the pillow.
CHAPTER6
Lark
The playing boyskicked the ball around, jostled, wrestled, threw insults, argued, made up, and seemed so carefree, so bright, and joyous. Had I not been as weak as a kitten, I’d have juggled for them, taught them a few tricks to summon their smiles, made some magic in trickery. But Draven was right, I needed rest.
It grew cold after the boys drifted away. The woman who had been tasked with nursing me back to health demanded I return to my tent. I didn’t dare disobey her. She’d snapped earlier when I’d neglected to drink a cup of water she’d left, then rattled off something derogatory in trader speak. I’d downed so much water at her behest, it was a wonder I didn’t slosh when I walked. And then there were the little spicy nibbles she left. Delicious, but after being poisoned and then thrown into the desert, I’d had trouble keeping anything solid down. Not that my nurse cared.
“You watch the boys today. Too long.” Her voice was a guttural desert rasp. The traders here spoke their own language, but they knew the language of the courts too.
“Yes, I’m aware.” The stiffness in my legs when I lowered myself to the edge of the cot bed was proof I should have heeded Draven’s advice.
She handed me a cup and gestured for me to drink. I’d already finished two. She glared. She’d have done well in one of Pain’s pleasure-houses, for those who enjoyed being belittled and barked at. If I didn’t drink, she’d likely get her kareel whip out.
“Good boys.” She clucked her tongue. “Better here.”
“Meaning?”
She nodded at my right hand, and I assumed my missing fingers. Although I had no idea what that had to do with the boys.
“Scarred,” she said. “Less than good.”
What was she implying? She’d seen me naked, having nursed me back from oblivion. She knew I was scarred all over.Less than good.I opted for silence in reply.
“Drink.”
“I’m drinking.” I glugged the water. “See, woman?”
She tutted, then stole my cup and rattled off something in her language that was most certainly rude.
“What do you mean, ‘less than good’?” I asked, struggling to come up with my own translation.
“No weak children in court. Only perfect child.” She thrust a bowl at me. The dried fruit and nuts might as well have been rocks for all it did for my appetite.
I tried to think around her words and make sense of them. I hadn’t seen any children in the Court of War, but I also hadn’t been there long enough to notice much besides the pyramid and the guest quarters. I’d been too busy trying not to kill everyone, and then trying to kill my brother. But there must have been children there. Perhaps they had been housed elsewhere.
She grabbed my mangled hand. “Weak, given to sands.”
