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"The least we can do is ask him before we spit him on your sword."
"Then let's ask him right now."
"Let's not." I hauled her back again. "Del, I'll even help you, but let's wait
till morning."
"We have to leave in the morning."
"And find a horse and wagon for these people." I tilted my head in the
direction of Adara and her children. "It's our last night together, bascha...
don't you think they might want to spend it without witnessing bloodshed in
the circle?"
She gritted teeth. "You are a sentimental fool."
I gripped her arm more firmly. "Better than just a fool, which is what you're
being at the moment."
"Those men owe me blood-debt," she hissed angrily. "Each and every one of them
owes me blood-debt ten times over, for what was done to my family. And if you
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think I can let them ride through this kymri without calling them into the
circle, you are the fool!"
"And if they refuse?" I released her and saw the reddening handprint on her
arm.
"They probably will, Del. They're Southroners, after all. They won't take the
invitation seriously. What they will do, however, is cut you to pieces when
you're not looking, because that is how they live. They have no honor, Del.
And you'll die because of it."
"Not till I find Ajani."
Something inside of me squeezed. "I don't want you to die at all."
The sun was nearly gone. Fading light softened the lines of Del's face and
altered her expression into something more sanguine than former anger. She
looked back at me blankly a moment, then drew in a deep breath. "No. Neither
do
I."
"Then let's make sure you don't." The men were gone, Garrod with them. "And
let's have something to eat."
In an oddly private silence, Del went to the fire.
The stew was very good, although I might have preferred better company. Adara
remained locked in depression, only rarely breaking her silence, and Massou
continued his sulk. Del tried to draw him out and he responded a little, but
sullenly, as if he blamed me for the stud's hostility.
Well, maybe whatever I felt also affected the stud.
Cipriana, on the other hand, had a strange bright glint in her eyes, smiling
to herself, occasionally touching the neckline of her tunic. She served me in
place of her mother, tending my cup until I told her to stop, and filled my
bowl to brimming three times running.
Del, of course, saw it, smiled wryly, said nothing. On one hand, it was nice
not to suffer the sulks of a jealous woman; on the other, it might have been
nice to know she cared. Del did not appear to--or else she dismissed Cipriana
as not worthy of consideration as real competition.
It became patently clear, however, that Cipriana did.
After dinner I went back to the stud, who was making a lot of noise. He
stomped, pawed, dug holes, snorted, peeled back lips to show yellowed teeth. I
thought maybe there was a mare in heat close by; it doesn't take much to set
him off.
I soothed him as best I could, but he wasn't particularly interested in
anything
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I had to say, nor did a pat or two still his restiveness. I tried scratching
the firm layers of muscle lying between the long bones of his underjaw, which
usually resulted in a silly half-lidded expression of contentment. This time
all it resulted in was a wet, messy snort of abject contempt.
"Fine," I told him, "stay out here and sulk. I'm not taking you to any mare no
matter how much you beg."
Cipriana came up to me, melting out of the fireglow. It was dark now, and the
entire kymri was shrouded in smoke and glare, smelling of food and liquor.
"Tiger?"
The stud bared teeth; I slapped his nose away from the girl. "Yes?"
"Could you--" She broke off, gathered her courage, asked it. "Would you walk
with me?"
Hoolies. Oh, hoolies.
"Not far," she said. "Just--out there." A wave of her hand indicated somewhere
beyond the stud.
She is a girl, I told myself. What are you afraid of?
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Well, nothing, Nothing, really. Other than being wary of what she wanted,
while having a feeling I knew. Part of me suggested I say no and go back to
the fire, avoiding the situation; another part jeered for being such a coward.
But I had no experience with fifteen-year-old girls, I like my women older.
Still, there was no dignified way of refusing. So I didn't even try.
We left the stud behind, viciously digging holes in the turf. Side by side we
walked out of the light from our fire into the glow cast from other campsites.
In the distance I could hear the ringing of tambors, the clatter of
rattle-bones, the trilling hoot of wooden pipes. I thought Cipriana deserved
to go dancing instead of walking with me, and said so.
She shrugged. "I wanted to be with you."
Hoolies. "You've been with all of us the past two weeks."
She walked with arms folded across her chest, head bowed. Pale hair fell
forward to obscure her face. "Because I wanted to be with you."
I sighed. "Cipriana--"
She stopped and raised her head, snapping hair out of her face with a deft
twist of her head. "I'm confused," she said. "Things happened today that I
don't understand, and I need to ask someone." She shrugged again, hugging
herself. "My father is dead and Massou is too young. There is no one else but
you."
Oh, hoolies, I drew in a deep breath, trying to buy time. Trying to come up
with an answer.
"I think--"
"Men looked at me today," she said, "Men looked at me, and followed me with
their eyes... some men even followed me. And they said things, some of
them..."
She didn't look away, plainly waiting for an explanation.
"Maybe it would be better if you talked this over with your mother." A safe
answer, I thought.
Cipriana shook her head. "She's too tired. She won't listen."
"Well--what about Del?"
Blue eyes widened. "Del wouldn't understand!"
I frowned. "Why not? She's a woman. She knows about these things."
Cipriana was momentarily at a loss for words, searching for the right ones.
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