“Perhaps you can swing by and tell him a little of your story before we leave,” Tayse said. “But as I don’t particularly want to engage in a pitched battle with every soldier recruited to the Lumanen Convent, especially when my own troops are limited in number, I think we’d better keep your survival a secret for now.”
Before we leave
. . . “How long before we head out?” Justin asked, trying to sound nonchalant. So much still undone here! How could he head back to Ghosenhall? Ellynor was safely out of the convent, but he was far from certain she was willing to leave behind her family—her entire existence— to follow Justin to the royal city. She still didn’t even know who he
was
, not really. There was so much they hadn’t discussed.
Secrets on her side as well as his.
Tayse was answering the question. “A few more days, I’d think. You have to be well enough to travel, and I’d like you to be well enough to hold a sword. But that might take longer than we can wait.”
“I’ll be holding a sword by tomorrow,” Justin said. “Whether or not I’ll be able to do any damage with it—well, we’ll find out then.”
“What about Ellynor?” Cammon piped up. “What happens to her?”
Tayse was silent. Justin felt his tension go up a notch. “I don’t know,” he said to Cammon. “I suppose that depends on what Ellynor wants.”
“And if we can give her what she wants,” Tayse said.
What did that mean? “I’m going to talk to her this morning,” Justin said.
Tayse nodded gravely. “Senneth says she’s much stronger today. I’m sure she is most anxious to see you as well.”
“You might want a bath first,” Cammon suggested. “And different clothes.”
Both the Riders laughed at that. “I don’t suppose you can fetch my own clothes from the boardinghouse,” Justin said ruefully.
“Our host said you could borrow something from one of his sons,” Tayse said. “But I don’t see why Cammon couldn’t collect your belongings. That’s a good idea.”
Cammon was on his feet. “And I’ll tell Marney to send up some water,” he said, ducking out the door.
“Who’s Marney?” Justin asked. “Faeber’s wife?”
“Yes. We’ll have to make sure Baryn rewards the two of them most generously for all the assistance they’ve given you.”
“If he’s rewarding people, he should give Ellynor a hatful of gold.”
Tayse said nothing.
“What’s happened?” Justin asked outright. “You don’t like her. You haven’t said so, but I can tell there’s something wrong.”
Tayse’s face grew even more closed. “I think we all owe her a debt too great to repay. But I find myself thinking you wouldn’t even have been attacked if you hadn’t gone to the convent to see her. She’s the reason you drew attention.”
Justin was suddenly furious. “And I’d go back tomorrow to see her if that was the only way,” he said instantly.
Tayse nodded. “That’s what worries me.”
“You can’t tell me—you wouldn’t tell me—not to see her again.”
“I wouldn’t,” Tayse said. “Save your anger. It is just that if I had to pick one of you to protect, you or Ellynor, I would always choose you. I would rather you fell in love with someone who only put your heart in danger, not your life.”
Some of Justin’s anger faded. “Well, she’s out of the convent now,” he said.
Tayse nodded. “I wish I could believe that meant she was entirely safe. For you.”
Before Justin could answer that, or even demand to know what it meant, the door opened yet again. This time it was an older woman superintending two young men, who looked enough like Faeber to be his sons. All were laden with large buckets of steaming water. One of them went back out in the hallway and returned with a small metal tub.
“Oh, you do look better,” the woman greeted Justin, coming over to inspect him. She was middle-aged and brisk, her face lined with kindness. Just the sort of woman he would picture as Faeber’s wife. “I’m Marney, you know. That nice young man said you wanted a bath.”
Tayse nodded at Marney and glanced at Justin. “My signal to leave, I believe,” he said. “I’ll come back later.” In a moment, he was gone.
Justin felt some embarrassment at the thought that this woman had probably been the one to strip him out of his own clothes and dress him in this borrowed nightshirt. He didn’t have Cammon’s easy charm, but he tried a smile and a tone of gratitude. “It seems I have a lot to thank you for,” he said. “You can’t have expected all the trouble that’s come down on your house. Taking care of me—and Ellynor—and now all my friends are here—”
Marney brushed this off as if she was used to turmoil and high drama. “I’m glad she thought to bring you to us. I think my husband was pleased that you actually trusted him enough to come here. He said he could never entirely read you.” She tilted her head and surveyed him. “You’re much bigger than I would have thought when you were just lying there,” she said. “Bulky. I think my oldest son’s shirts will fit you, though. Not sure about the trousers.”
That made him laugh. “Cammon’s going to fetch my things from my rented room. I have a couple of changes of clothes.”
“Good. Well, here’s a towel and some soap. I don’t imagine you’ll need any help, but if you slip and fall—should I wait outside the door?”
“No. Thank you. No.”
She grinned and headed for the door, shooing her sons before her. “Let me know if there’s anything you need. You’ve had breakfast, I see. Come downstairs for your next meal. Then we’ll see how you’re really doing.”
Finally. Alone, naked, and stepping into the warm bath. Justin cursed as the heated water burned along every half-open sore. The tub was too small to contain his whole body, so he crouched and splashed as efficiently as possible, working to get loose the dried blood as well as the sweat and grime. A hand across his face made him realize he badly needed a shave. Would Ellynor recognize him with stubble?
But Cammon brought his razor along with his spare clothes. Justin had to tighten his belt a notch to keep his trousers on. Weight loss, muscle loss—it would take him appreciable time to recover from this encounter. A quick shave, a careless comb through the hair, a brief look at himself in the small mirror over the dresser. His face looked paler and rather more angular than usual; the eyes had a certain haunted look. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could enjoy a personal inspection in a mirror on a daily basis. Well, maybe someone who looked like Kirra.
“Going to see Ellynor?” Cammon inquired when he was done.
Justin gave him a look of exasperation. “Yes. Go away.”
“Want me to get Senneth out of the room first?”
Justin paused at the door.
“Yes.”
Cammon grinned and brushed by him. “Give me five minutes.”
Justin waited for the required time, listening to the sounds down the hallway. Voices drifting up from the first story, clinks and thuds that sounded like someone was rearranging furniture, then the closer noises of Senneth and Cammon talking in the hallway and disappearing down the stairs. Justin took a deep breath, stepped out of his room, down the hall, and into the room next door.
Ellynor was standing at the window, her hand resting on the sill, and she gazed down at the streets of Neft as if fascinated by a pageant of color and motion. Her long hair was unbound down her back and looked half-damp, as if she too had taken the time to bathe this morning, to present herself clean and new to the waiting world. The pale design worked into the hair now started around her shoulders; it must have been some time since she had had it renewed by her cousin’s hands.
She looked so small. So frail. How could she have had the strength to snatch him back from the precipice of death?
“Ellynor,” he said.
She started and whirled around. He would never forget the expression her face showed him then—purest joy at his presence, at his mere existence. She flew across the room and flung herself into his arms, but she was so light she could not over-match even his precarious balance, and he took her in a hold hard enough to make her gasp. “Justin, Justin,
Justin
,” she recited. “I thought you were
dead
! I thought they had killed you! Oh, Justin, I am so glad to see you!”
He demonstrated his own corresponding gladness with a kiss that left them both light-headed. Maybe it was the exultation, maybe it was the physical weakness, but when he set her down, they were both unsteady on their feet. They clung to each other as they navigated the floor and collapsed in the big chair that Senneth had been using the night before. Plenty of room for two. Justin merely pulled her onto his lap and held her as tightly as he could. Ellynor’s arms were around his neck; she kissed his mouth, his cheeks, his hair, his forehead.
“I am so glad you’re alive,” she whispered.
“Only because of you,” he whispered back between kisses. “They told me—you saved me. Nobody believed—I could survive. You must—have magic after all.”
That caught her attention. She leaned back, not too far, and gazed down at him. “Justin, your friends are here! The mystics! How did they find you? Senneth is the only one I’ve really talked to, but she’s extraordinary. No wonder the Lestra hates mystics if they’re all as powerful as she is.”
He grinned. “Well, Senneth’s exceptional. But she’s the one Coralinda hates most. And they found me because Cammon— have you met Cammon?—he could tell I was in trouble. But I don’t want to talk about them. I want to talk about you. They said
you
almost died saving
me
. Are you truly recovered now? Because if you are, I’m going to shake you and tell you never,
never
, do that again. Never risk yourself for someone else— not for me, not for anybody.”
She kissed him quickly on the mouth, which he supposed was answer enough. “I’ve been a healer most of my life, but I never lost so much of myself to someone else,” she said seriously. “I didn’t expect it to happen that way. But I’d do it again if I thought it would save your life. I was so afraid for you.”
An opening not to be missed. “And now you know how I’ve been feeling this whole time you’ve been at the convent,” he said. “Afraid for you and willing to do anything to save you. Now that you’re out—”
“Oh, I’m not going back, if that’s what you’re about to ask me,” she said. “I can’t imagine what they think! After I disappeared like that—the same day the soldiers were killed—there would be so many questions. And you know I wanted to leave anyway. So you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“But I do,” he said. “Where will you go next? Tell me your plans.”
She was silent a moment. “I’m going to write my family. And I’m going to ask Faeber—who is the kindest man!—if I can stay here till my father or my brothers arrive. They won’t be happy that Rosurie has been left behind, but once I explain it to them—well. They’ll see I had no choice.”
“You do have a choice,” he said in a very low voice. “You can come with me to Ghosenhall.”
She smiled at him, but he couldn’t help feeling the expression was sad. It worried him; something about this conversation was going to break his heart. “Is that where you belong? Ghosenhall?”
“Time for telling secrets,” he said. “I’ll start. Yes, I belong in the royal city. I’m a King’s Rider.” The expression on her face didn’t change; wherever she lived, it was someplace they had never heard of King’s Riders. “I’m part of a specially picked, specially trained guard dedicated to the service of King Baryn. I’ve been in Neft to spy on the Lumanen Convent—to try and see if the Lestra is plotting against the king.”