Seeing me, he deftly reins the carriage to a halt.
He grins down from the high seat. “As I promised, Doma,” he says with a laugh that makes his whole face light up.
From the height of the carriage, he offers me a hand. His grip enfolds my fingers and I’m breathless as he pulls me up. He overweights his tug and I accidentally thump into his body, forcing him to grasp me around the waist so I don’t fall. His chest presses against mine. Our faces almost touch, his lips so close to mine I need only exhale to kiss him.
Why shouldn’t I take the risk? Father’s rules no longer define my life.
My lips brush his mouth.
“Jessamy,” he murmurs as his arm tightens around me.
The carriage jolts under us as the horses back up a step. I slip as he lets go to better grip the reins. What am I to him, really? Something with which to defy his uncle?
The bricks of the tomb rise between us.
“We must hurry,” I say, scrambling for the passenger bench.
Kalliarkos’s muttered curse makes me jump. Have I offended him? Is he like his uncle, angry if he’s challenged?
Then I see that we are no longer alone.
Lord Thynos stands at the horses’ heads, holding the harness, while Inarsis leaps up into the carriage beside me and pulls down the canvas curtains to conceal the passenger bench. The carriage rocks again as Thynos climbs up onto the driver’s bench beside Kalliarkos.
“Keep moving, Kal,” says Thynos.
After a moment the carriage rolls. I peek out between the curtains to see Kalliarkos’s rigid back.
“Did you follow me, Uncle?”
“My dear nephew, long ago I promised your mother that I would never, ever let you walk about the city unattended. She fears you may be kidnapped and held for ransom. Or murdered, which would be less expensive but far messier. You’ve made my task easy so far. Am I correct in thinking that this is the first time you have sneaked out on your own?”
Inarsis chuckles. “Not the first. On the other occasion he followed our young tomb spider to the Ribbon Market.”
“What do you want?” snaps Kalliarkos, sounding embarrassed and thwarted.
Thynos sighs with a dramatic emphasis worthy of Amaya. “Either you don’t intend to feast with your sister and her new husband tonight and instead plan to ruin the prospects of an extremely promising adversary, or you are expressly defying Gar’s injunction that all ties between our heroic General Esladas and his irregular family must be severed. Which is it?”
“None of your business.”
Lord Thynos’s eyebrows fly right up his forehead. “Do not tell me what is and is not my business, puppy. Answer me!”
“Enough, Thynos,” says Inarsis in a genial tone. “Be glad our young man is finally showing some spine. It was a good ruse, Lord Kalliarkos, to have this carriage made ready in the back alley and meanwhile tell your mother you were riding with your grandmother, and your grandmother the opposite.”
“Not good enough,” mutters Kalliarkos.
“I am an experienced campaigner, my lord. Not much gets past me.”
Thynos laughs. Kalliarkos does not. Neither do I. They will ruin everything. I twist my hands together, wound tight with anguished frustration, but I see no way to be rid of them. They have all the power and I have nothing but my wits and determination.
We turn a wide corner and pick up speed. Peeking out between the curtains I see we are headed toward the eastern gate along the Avenue of the Soldier, so called because so many armies have marched out of the city along this wide boulevard. I’m a little surprised Thynos has not taken the reins, but in fact Kalliarkos drives with an impressively brisk confidence even though his expression is stiff with anger. I can’t stop looking at the way his hands masterfully handle the reins and how his gaze flits along the traffic to find narrow spaces to slide our carriage through so we don’t need to slow down.
Lord Thynos glances back at me, his smile turning to a flat stare. “Spider, that was an imprudent place for you to agree to meet a man. A crowd of drunk soldiers is not safe for a woman, especially one like you.”
I do not need to be scolded about such matters by a man who isn’t my father! “Because I am young or because I am a mule?”
“Because you are both. Patron women are protected by their clans. And every foreign man who reaches these shores soon learns that Commoner women are protected by the magic of their father’s mother. A dame’s evil eye can kill a man’s potency. But one like you has no clan and no Commoner grandmother on her father’s side. Your father was no fool to raise his daughters as if they were Patron girls. I feel sure he knew exactly how far his shield of protection extended.”