Fire of the Soul (14 page)

“Well, well.” Durand regarded her with
something like fascination. “A lovely young woman who is
intelligent and who knows how to hold her tongue, except when
challenging a supposed spy. What makes you think I am one?”

Calia swallowed the bread. “A clever guess on
my part.”

“More than that, I think.” He held out his
hand for another piece of the bread she still held.

Calia gave him the remainder, but she wasn’t
going to offer him more than bread. She would not discuss the
source of her guess about his occupation. That source was the men
who had occasionally appeared at Catherstone bearing messages to
Mallory from his father, men who had watched Mallory and Calia with
sharp eyes and who had made use of their time at the castle to
investigate the oddest corners and to speak in whispers with the
servants and the men-at-arms.

She hadn’t needed Mallory to tell her what
those men were or to warn her against them. They were her father’s
people secretly testing Mallory, or else men sent by King Henryk
because he was suspicious of Walderon. Calia had noticed the same
alert and vigilant look on Durand’s face as he tested her and that
was why she had decided that he must be a spy.

“Tell me, my lord,” she said, eager to change
the subject, “how long has it been since you’ve seen your sister?
Lady Ilona, you said? I’ll wager she misses you.”

“D’you think so? I know I miss her.” Durand
slanted a quick, searching look in her direction. “Brothers and
sisters – do you have either?”

There it was, Calia realized. There, in that
apparently simple, quite ordinary question lay the danger she must
avoid. She could not reveal that she had a brother, lest Durand
mention the fact to Garit, which would only lead to more questions
from him. And Garit’s questions about her family must be met with
answers that were lies, unless she was willing to defy Lady
Elgida’s order not to tell him about Mallory. How quickly lies,
even lies of omission, could become complicated tapestries of
falsehood, she thought with a sigh. And how annoying it was to have
to weigh every word she spoke.

Yet even as she considered how to avoid a
direct response to Durand the solution came to her. She would
inundate him with a flood of partial truths and a storm of
questions of her own.

“Do you mean, have I a relative at court whom
you may know?” she asked, and then supplied her own answer. “No, my
lord. I was given to a beguinage at an early age. Later, when I
proved unsuited to the life there, I was sent to Lady Elgida, to be
her companion. I’ve been living at Saumar Manor for years, and
since Lady Elgida never attends court, I’ve not been there, either.
I don’t know anyone at court.

“Now, my lord, tell me about your sister. Is
she fair like you, or dark? Has she children? What is her opinion
of the Kantian court? Lady Elgida claims that in her time it was a
cold and barbaric place, but then, she doesn’t think much of the
Kantians.”

“Really? Why not?” Durand asked with a grin
that told her he wasn’t fooled by her effort to distract him. He
knew exactly what she was doing and he’d find a way to maneuver
around her evasions if the information he sought was important
enough. “What does Lady Elgida hold against the Kantians?”

“She says they are untrustworthy.
Treacherous. Not at all nice people. But that was twenty-five years
ago.”

“Interesting,” Durand murmured. “What do you
suppose happened to make her feel that way?”

“I have no idea,” Calia said. On those words
she shut her mouth firmly, refusing to offer any further
information. Only then, after she fell silent, did she feel the
quick, delicate touch of Durand’s Power in her mind. She caught her
breath, startled. An instant later she relaxed as she realized he
meant her no harm and would not intrude on the privacy of her
thoughts. Whatever else he was, Durand had just let her know he was
a friend whom she could trust.

Garit assisted his grandmother up the short
ladder. She was far more spry than he had expected and she shook
off his steadying hand as soon as they reached the open deck.

“Well, now,” she said, glancing around at the
ship and the sea, “this is much more pleasant than my airless
cabin. I notice that Mairne is leaning upon that surly squire of
yours, but where is Calia?”

Garit looked across the deck, seeking Calia’s
smoothly braided, gleaming dark hair. He discovered her just rising
from the mid-ships hatch, where she’d apparently been sitting with
Durand, who jumped to his feet and offered his hand to steady her.
Calia straightened her skirts, brushing at the woolen folds. Then
she bestowed a brilliant smile on the handsome lord and he smiled
back.

Jealousy roared through Garit like a bolt of
summer lightning. He actually stumbled from the force of it. By the
time he found his footing again on the slanting deck, Lady Elgida
was staring at him as if he’d lost his wits. He feared she was
correct in her assumption. His hands were clenched into fists and
his jaw was rigid with his effort at self-control. He wanted to
slam his fist into Durand’s mild, pleasant face and then seize
Calia and shake her until she understood that she belonged to him
and to no one else.

True, she couldn’t be expected to know that
when he hadn’t yet told her so. At the moment she was free to laugh
and flirt with any man and he had no right to be angry if she
did.

He reminded himself that he did not love her,
that he would never again love any woman. What he felt for Calia
was a peculiar combination of respect and desire, but nothing more.
Thinking more reasonably, he doubted that she required protection
from Durand, not on an open deck surrounded by sailors and with
Lady Elgida bearing down on the pair like an ancient Matarami
longship preparing for battle.

“There you are, Calia,” Lady Elgida said.
“Do, please, talk to Garit. He is being too tiresome for me to
endure his advice for another moment. Good day to you, Lord Durand.
Dare I hope that you will offer more entertaining conversation than
my grandson? I warn you in advance, I do not wish to hear how
careful I ought to be when climbing ladders, or descending them, or
when walking about the deck.”

“My lady, if only you will take my arm to
keep
me
steady, I promise to offer no advice at all while we
walk about the deck together,” Durand responded.

“That’s more what a lady likes to hear.
Calia, I leave Garit in your care, knowing he will soon bore you
into fleeing below.”

Durand bent his head to speak softly to Lady
Elgida and the two of them began a slow progress from mid-ship to
the bow of
The Kantian Queen,
and then back toward the
stern.

“He is certain to ask her prying questions,”
Calia said to Garit. “I do believe your friend Durand is a spy for
King Henryk, though when I said so, he wouldn’t admit it to
me.”

“Never say you asked him directly?” Garit
exclaimed.

“Of course I did.”

Garit stared at her in stupefaction,
wondering how she had guessed the truth, until she smiled.

“He was much too interested in my life,” she
explained.

“Why?” Garit watched her mouth twist into an
expression of distaste at the question. He thought with relief that
no reason existed for him to be jealous of Durand.

“Why, indeed?” Calia responded with a shrug.
“I can imagine nothing at all that he’d find interesting about
me.”

“There I disagree,” Garit said softly. He
took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. “I find
you very interesting.”

She went tense. Garit could feel the sudden
pressure of her fingers on his arm.

“Interesting in what way?” she asked.

“Calia.” He looked down at her, seeing fear
in her eyes. “What, exactly, did Durand say to you?”

“Very little. Only a few questions and a few
leading remarks.” She looked away, turning her gaze to the choppy
sea. “I turned the conversation to his sister and her life in
Kantia. All I revealed is that Lady Elgida distrusts the Kantians.
But anyone who spends even a single hour in her company will know
as much. It’s possible that Durand was only testing me on the
chance that I’d say something useful.”

“Asking prying questions may simply be a
habit with him,” Garit said. “Since you’ve never been to Kantia and
you don’t share my grandmother’s dislike of all Kantians, you
cannot provide any information, whatever he was seeking.”

“No. Of course not.”

But her fingers renewed their hard grip on
his arm. Garit put his hand over hers.

“If you feel the need of protection against
Durand, I will provide it,” he said.

“Oh, Garit.” When she looked at him, her eyes
were swimming with tears.

“My dear, what’s wrong?” he whispered.

“I’m only being foolish. I have no reason to
be afraid.”

“Certainly not.” He drew her a little closer
to his side and she came readily enough. But he could see and feel
that she was afraid, despite her brave words. What in the name of
the heavenly blue sky had Durand said to her? Had he threatened
her? And if so, with what?

Garit decided he’d have to speak with his
fellow agent. Then the thought occurred to him that the best way to
keep Calia safe, whether from the unwanted advances of another man
or from some unspecified danger, was to make it plain that she
belonged to him. He’d start by making that fact clear to Calia
herself, and he’d do so before they landed in Kantia, for once they
were ashore his mission would begin and he’d have little time to
devote to wooing her.

During the evening meal Captain Pyrsig
informed his passengers that the windy storm had blown
The
Kantian Queen
far north and east of the route he had originally
intended to sail.

“But there’s naught to fear,” he added.
“Sooner or later, we’ll strike land again.”

“‘Sooner or later?’“ Lady Elgida repeated
with undisguised scorn. “I do not consider that claim especially
heartening. Don’t Matarami pirates haunt the northern sea? Garit,
this is your fault. You assured me that Captain Pyrsig is a skilled
seaman.”

“That I am,” the captain declared before
Garit could respond. “I’ve sailed these waters for more than twenty
years. I can deal with Matarami pirates. I won
The Kantian
Queen
in a battle fifteen years ago and I don’t intend to lose
her, not for any reason. All I was tryin’ to say in my rough
fashion is that, thanks to the strong winds during the storm, we
are just a wee bit off course. I’ll know approximately where we are
as soon as I can see the stars. I was tryin’ to warn ye that the
voyage may take longer than ye expected, but ye needn’t worry, not
even if we have to land somewhere in Mataram.”

“I suppose I will have to trust that you know
what you are talking about,” Lady Elgida said. “Just remember,
captain, you are being paid to put us safely ashore on the beach at
Kinath. Come along, Calia. Find that lazy Mairne and let us
retire.”

After seeing Lady Elgida tucked into her
bunk, and with the recovering Mairne asleep in her upper berth,
Calia returned to the deck.

These were the longest days of the year and
this far north the evening twilight lasted until almost midnight.
With the storm winds slackening to a stiff breeze, the sea had
begun to calm. The clouds had thinned into pale streamers that were
touched with red and gold as the sun sank close to the horizon. In
the east, where the sky was a clear, dark blue, a single bright
star glimmered. A slight warming in the breeze and the earthy smell
of it made Calia look to the west, straining to find land in the
brilliant glow cast upon the water by the setting sun.

“The nearest land lies in the opposite
direction from where you are looking,” Garit said, coming to her.
“It’s too far away to make out unless you climb the mast to look.
Never mind my grandmother’s complaints. We are not lost.”

“I didn’t think we were,” she said. Garit
stood so close to her that she could feel his warmth. She turned to
him and found him looking at her with an intense, expectant
expression on his handsome face.

“Walk with me,” he said, and took her hand as
if the possibility that she’d refuse hadn’t occurred to him. With a
gentle tug he led her toward the bow of the ship.

A few sailors were on deck, working with the
ropes at chores that Calia didn’t understand. A group of Garit’s
men-at-arms were sprawled atop the hatch, playing at dice where she
and Durand had sat earlier that day. Sailors and men-at-arms alike
were all engrossed in what they were doing. No one paid any
attention to the man and woman who walked slowly, hand-in-hand,
beside the rail.

When they were as far forward as they could
go, Garit halted and turned his back to the oncoming breeze,
sheltering Calia from it. She looked up at him, expecting him to
say something. She did not expect him to kiss her.

He caught her face between his palms, then
bent his head and gently touched his lips to hers.

“Garit?” She pulled away just far enough to
whisper his name before his arms went around her and his mouth came
down again, not gently this time. She shook with the strangeness of
that unfamiliar caress, with the heat and intimacy of it. Her
initial resistance lasted for only a heartbeat or two, before she
leaned into him and kissed him back.

“Calia.” Garit’s voice was low, his face taut
in the dimming twilight. “You cannot doubt that I want you.”

“No.” She pushed against his shoulders,
knowing she dared not remain in his close embrace. “Let me go.”

“Hush.” He brushed tears off her face before
kissing the soft, damp curve of her cheek. “Listen to me, my dear.
We will be together. We will have each other. At first I had
planned to wait until we return to Saumar. Now I doubt if I can
restrain myself so long. Whether we wait or not, you are mine. Do
you understand me? Never let any other man hold you as I have done,
or touch you so intimately.”