should enter: "It's not like that between us."
Sebius laughed aloud, covering her mouth to prevent spilling the porridge. "Did I tell you? The divination bones foretold that I would meet a man in this valley named Bran, and he would make my fortune for me."
A shiver shot up Yvon's spine. Like most knights, he stayed away from divination. A man could go forward into battle with a clear heart only if he didn't know the outcome.
"So, to bind our friendship," the eunuch continued, "I will give you this advice. A woman outside her home, out in the wilderness, is always anxious. More especially if she has a child with her. You, my friend Bran, should deliver the lady Pwylla to her family. Then return to help me, and I will see that you have new clothes." She gestured at Yvon's filthencrusted trousers. "The very finest! Also many gifts to give to her and her baby. Then she will see the old jewel set in a new broach."
Yvon grunted noncommittally.
Sebius made a knuckle-rapping gesture. "Knock, knock. Come in!" Laughing, she scooped more food into her mouth.
While they were eating, a small group of soldiers came over and set up camp near the herders. Or near to Yvon and Xaragitte. Even though there was only twilight in the sky now, Yvon thought he recognized the soldier from that afternoon, the one who'd noticed Yvon's concealed sword. Sebius scowled at their proximity, as if it were a slight on the way she controlled the herders, and rose at once to go complain. She was so incensed she forgot to pardon herself from Yvon's presence.
Yvon rose, took his blanket, and went over to sit beside Xaragitte. The move brought him closer to the eunuch and the soldiers, but he couldn't hear the particulars of their argument. The soldiers clearly refused to budge, and though it was already dark, Sebius turned and stomped off toward the Baron's tent down by the riverside.
Yvon gathered up the rest of the eunuch's meal, along with Xaragitte's, and packed it away in their bag.
Xaragitte turned slowly in her blankets so she wouldn't disturb the sleeping Claye. Her face turned toward Yvon, and not even the shadowy light could soften the pain in it.
"What is wrong?" he asked, reaching out his hand.
She lifted her arm to ward him off, then touched her fingers to her chest. "M'lady Gruethrist, she's all twisted up in here. It hurts so bad."
"But she's still alive?"
Xaragitte shook her head. "She's struggling, but whether she's struggling to live or to die, I cannot say."
She appeared to be in so much pain, and her pain ached in him, so he reached out to her again, to soothe her.
"Don't touch me!"
"I only meant to-"
"We're cursed," she said. "The castle burned down because of us, and then the mammut tried to kill me and Claye, and-"
Yvon's hand shot up to indicate silence, and he glanced in the direction of the soldiers nearby. Their faces were lit by the glow of their fire, and their laughter carried across the night air. "Have a care with the things you mention," he said quietly. "The wrong word, wrong name, could see us killed."
Xaragitte shuddered, shrunk in upon herself. "The way you killed that poor boy outside the castle? He would have let us pass if I had done the talking. His face, oh, his poor face, all smashed in."
Yvon peered at her closely. Perhaps she had a fever, more worried about some dead man than him. "He served the Baron-he would have killed us."
"Not all the world is killing," she said, but something softened. She lowered her head onto her arm. "There-they've eased it somehow," she said quietly.
The distant laughter ended. Yvon looked over at the soldiers' camp and saw them spreading their own blankets. One face stared away from the fire into the dark, in their direction. It would be easy enough to murder an old man, a young mother, and her child out here in the wilderness. One could cover up any manner of crime, bury the evidence under the leaves in the forest just over the hill, and then tell the eunuch that her
Sebius laughed aloud, covering her mouth to prevent spilling the porridge. "Did I tell you? The divination bones foretold that I would meet a man in this valley named Bran, and he would make my fortune for me."
A shiver shot up Yvon's spine. Like most knights, he stayed away from divination. A man could go forward into battle with a clear heart only if he didn't know the outcome.
"So, to bind our friendship," the eunuch continued, "I will give you this advice. A woman outside her home, out in the wilderness, is always anxious. More especially if she has a child with her. You, my friend Bran, should deliver the lady Pwylla to her family. Then return to help me, and I will see that you have new clothes." She gestured at Yvon's filthencrusted trousers. "The very finest! Also many gifts to give to her and her baby. Then she will see the old jewel set in a new broach."
Yvon grunted noncommittally.
Sebius made a knuckle-rapping gesture. "Knock, knock. Come in!" Laughing, she scooped more food into her mouth.
While they were eating, a small group of soldiers came over and set up camp near the herders. Or near to Yvon and Xaragitte. Even though there was only twilight in the sky now, Yvon thought he recognized the soldier from that afternoon, the one who'd noticed Yvon's concealed sword. Sebius scowled at their proximity, as if it were a slight on the way she controlled the herders, and rose at once to go complain. She was so incensed she forgot to pardon herself from Yvon's presence.
Yvon rose, took his blanket, and went over to sit beside Xaragitte. The move brought him closer to the eunuch and the soldiers, but he couldn't hear the particulars of their argument. The soldiers clearly refused to budge, and though it was already dark, Sebius turned and stomped off toward the Baron's tent down by the riverside.
Yvon gathered up the rest of the eunuch's meal, along with Xaragitte's, and packed it away in their bag.
Xaragitte turned slowly in her blankets so she wouldn't disturb the sleeping Claye. Her face turned toward Yvon, and not even the shadowy light could soften the pain in it.
"What is wrong?" he asked, reaching out his hand.
She lifted her arm to ward him off, then touched her fingers to her chest. "M'lady Gruethrist, she's all twisted up in here. It hurts so bad."
"But she's still alive?"
Xaragitte shook her head. "She's struggling, but whether she's struggling to live or to die, I cannot say."
She appeared to be in so much pain, and her pain ached in him, so he reached out to her again, to soothe her.
"Don't touch me!"
"I only meant to-"
"We're cursed," she said. "The castle burned down because of us, and then the mammut tried to kill me and Claye, and-"
Yvon's hand shot up to indicate silence, and he glanced in the direction of the soldiers nearby. Their faces were lit by the glow of their fire, and their laughter carried across the night air. "Have a care with the things you mention," he said quietly. "The wrong word, wrong name, could see us killed."
Xaragitte shuddered, shrunk in upon herself. "The way you killed that poor boy outside the castle? He would have let us pass if I had done the talking. His face, oh, his poor face, all smashed in."
Yvon peered at her closely. Perhaps she had a fever, more worried about some dead man than him. "He served the Baron-he would have killed us."
"Not all the world is killing," she said, but something softened. She lowered her head onto her arm. "There-they've eased it somehow," she said quietly.
The distant laughter ended. Yvon looked over at the soldiers' camp and saw them spreading their own blankets. One face stared away from the fire into the dark, in their direction. It would be easy enough to murder an old man, a young mother, and her child out here in the wilderness. One could cover up any manner of crime, bury the evidence under the leaves in the forest just over the hill, and then tell the eunuch that her
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