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“Then go and meet him and find out why he is here. I have no time to meet with him. I must settle everything here.”
I nod my head. I can do that, and I wish to leave the tent as soon as possible. It smells of blood, even to my weak human nose.
“Very well,” I say. “I’ll meet with him and bring him to one of the town inns to talk. Come find me, when you are able.”
He nods and says, “Take Korovi as your escort. Things have just become very dangerous.”
“You can’t think that the enemy will target me?” I ask incredulously.
Verrick steps forward, leaning down and speaks quietly into my ear, “You have had dealings with the Cabal as well. If they are feeling threatened, they may start doing away with assets. You need to be careful, Pellia.”
His words make me shiver and I remember Sting’s threats from a mere hour ago. Was this what he meant? I have made no vows to them, but maybe they have already placed a hex on me,unbeknownst to me.
The thought makes my blood run cold. I nod to Verrick, then to Korovi, before practically fleeing the tent. I need to get away from the reminder of what my fate could be.
Putting that thought behind me, I set out, Korovi on my heels, to find Antony.
But I swear I can feel eyes on me as I go. Verrick’s? Or someone more sinister? Shuddering, I banish the thought put on my political face, charm and social graces wrapping me like a familiar cloak. A defense. I’ll need it with Antony. Though we have been friends for ages, he’s a slippery bastard.
It’s fairly easy to find him. He's a tall man, about as tall as one of the shorter orcs, and he dresses in the highest fashions like his station dictates, with a neatly trimmed beard. Ducal arrogance rolls off of him in waves, as he stands in the midst of the camp. When he sees me coming, however, a warm smile breaks over his face.
“Pells!”
I smile in return, the expression a little forced after what I have just witnessed. “Antony! What a surprise to see you here. Are you over your illness?”
“That thing? Just a trifling cold, really. I wanted to join the Council anyway, but my healer nearly had a conniption and forbade me. What can you do? But here I am now and here you are.”
He gives me a welcoming bow, his manners as polished as ever. “And I heard that your party saved Kingsbury from a certain doom last night. You have my everlasting thanks.”
I laugh. “Always so good with words. Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”
We share a grin and then I grow more serious. “But Antony, why did you not send word about the southern fires to the capital? We had to learn about it from a group of commonfolk that were quite ready to storm the High Citadel in their anger.”
The duke before me grows more serious as well. “I am sorry about that. I should have kept a tighter rein on mypeople. I didn’t report it, because I have no information about the perpetrators. The bedrest the healer forced on me has made it hard to run an investigation. It’s why I’m so glad you and your party are here, though. This madness must end, especially before winter.”
“You are right,” I concede, “but let’s not speak of it out here. Is there an inn or tavern where we can go to discuss things away from prying eyes?”
“The Fox and Thorn should be quiet this time of day. Shall we go there?”
“Lead the way, Antony.”
The duke puts out his arm, and I weave my hand through it. He leads me toward the town, leaving the disturbing death of Owen behind me.
Chapter 13
Verrick
The day’s interrogations reveal frustratingly little. None of the servants that were outside the tent heard or saw anything and none of them were lying either. Agitated and tired, I decide to seek Pellia. Though I am still in turmoil where she is concerned, I know I will have no peace until I see her again. My Mating Instinct will make sure of that.
Heading into town, I check with my orcs to see where Pellia is. I’m surprised to hear that she is still in the tavern with the human noble. I’m not sure that I like that. Not at all, but I must go to where she is. As I walk, I see several humans look my way as they go about their daily tasks. Unlike Aquilar, where everything we did was met with suspicion and antagonism, I see glances of approval. Even whispers of friendly sentiment. It seems our fighting the fire the night before has done wonders for the orcs’ reputation.
Usually I would not care about the opinions of a few paltry humans, but now . . . I see them as Pellia’s people. She cares about them and now I find I do too, to a degree. Before, serving them was merely a matter of honor and duty, but now I find myself worrying, as she does, about how they will make it through the winter with fires attacking their fall harvests. Perhaps I should order some of my clan to stay and help bring in the crops. With the superior strength and speed of orcs, it should go faster. Thesilos will need to be made fireproof, however, as I wouldn’t put it past the Cabal to attack those as well once the stores are in.
My meandering thoughts bring me to the tavern where I was told Pellia was and, as I step through the door, I hear a gale of laughter, a genuine sound, coming from the regent’s lips. She sits with a human, smiles wreathing her face. The human male looks smug at her laughter, as if very proud of the joke he has told. I am reminded of how unhappy I have made Pellia in the last few days and am instantly jealous that this man has changed all that in the span of a few hours.
I stride across the room, a storm brewing in my mind, when Pellia sees me. Her smile grows a little more wary, and that stops my approach. What am I doing? What right do I have to be jealous? I have pushed Pellia away at every turn and now I want to dictate who she can smile with? It would be laughable if it weren’t so wrong.
Instead, I change my approach, coming up more carefully and say, “Regent Santir,” in greeting.
