Firebrand - Page 122/250

He inclined his head. “I am much relieved.”

“Perhaps,” she said, “from now on you will treat my fellow Riders with courtesy. We are all on the same side, after all, and since messengers don’t necessarily trumpet all that they endure during the course of an errand, it is deceptive to assume they are less than capable and do not regularly face danger.”

“I will endeavor to do better,” he replied. “I promise.” He glanced over his shoulder to see who might be observing them, then he leaned in close as if to let her in on a secret. “There is something I would like to ask you.”

“Yes?”

His eyes shifted nervously. “I wanted to ask something—something personal.”

Karigan waited. Surely he hadn’t been flirting with her, had he? He wasn’t going to express interest in courting her, was he?

“Can you tell me . . .” He was blushing.

Uh-oh, she thought. “Yes?”

“Can you tell me,” he began again, “if your friend is married or otherwise attached?”

She almost burst out laughing. No, he had not been flirting. Not with her. No wonder he was making nice. She managed to contain herself, and feeling fiendish, she asked, “Enver or Estral?”

His blush intensified. “Estral.”

“Well, she is seeing someone,” Karigan replied, “but I wouldn’t let that stop you. You never know, but she might be open to another suitor.”

He looked thoughtful. “Thank you.” He rose from the bench, straightened his uniform, and sauntered toward where Estral sat before the fire. He pulled up a chair of his own and straddled it so he could face her.

Cocky lad, Karigan thought in amusement. Apparently Rennard was not intimidated by Estral’s noble status. Flirting with the lover of the future lord-governor of D’Yer Province? Poor Rennard hadn’t a chance, and Estral would be annoyed with her for sending him over, but to Karigan’s line of thinking, it would be worth it.

• • •

Captain Treman invited them to stay the night. Relieved to be dry and warm, Karigan was only too glad to accept. At supper, the building filled up with the members of the River Unit and became noisy with the raucous sounds of hungry, chattering people and the clatter of dishware. The cooks had produced a savory moose stew. The soldiers supplemented their stores with hunting.

Karigan sat with the captain, Enver seated beside her and listening gravely to their discussion about the terrain in the vicinity of the Lone Forest. Out of the corner of her eye, Karigan espied Estral being occupied by Rennard’s advances. She chuckled to herself.

“They will have patrols well outside the forest,” the captain was warning her. “I would really caution you against going anywhere near there.”

“I do not wish to,” she replied, “but according to my guide—” and she gave Enver a stern look, “—the object of our search may lie in that vicinity.” She had wondered more than once if finding the p’ehdrose was worth it. She hoped so.

She dipped a wedge of pan bread into the hot stew, and continued to listen attentively while Treman, with interjections from his officers, detailed the lay of the land and warned her there would be traps in the forest.

“Traps like to snare animals,” Lieutenant Dannyn said, “but made to snare people. We’ve lost a few of our own to them.”

This revelation did not alleviate Karigan’s trepidation about traveling near the Lone Forest, but the grim talk soon faded and gave way to entertainment after the meal. Word had gotten out that Estral was of Selium, and she was requested to lead the singing. She had only sung with Enver at their campsites and looked nervous, but once she began a cheerful tune about a soldier and his sweetheart, her voice was steady and strong. Soldiers on fiddle and pipe accompanied her. Rennard, Karigan observed, watched her raptly as one besotted. Good thing they weren’t staying long.

Most of the songs Estral chose were upbeat, the sorts that could be heard in any tavern, and well-known to her audience. Many sang the choruses with her. She inserted a couple of wistful ballads, but nothing morose. Soldiers away from home, Karigan reflected, did not need morose.

“I must rest my throat,” Estral said after another rollicking tune. The audience met her announcement with disappointment. “But maybe Enver would sing for us.”

This was greeted with uneasy silence, but to Karigan’s surprise, Enver looked pleased. He stood and joined Estral by the fireplace.

“I would like to sing about the ale,” he said.

Looks of disbelief and murmuring spread through the audience, but once Enver launched into the song that Estral had taught them after their time in North, it was clear his beautiful voice and spirited rendition captured their astonished attention. Most would not have ever seen an Eletian before, and to hear one sing a simple tune about ale? When he finished, there was silence.

“Did I sing it wrong?” he asked uncertainly.

“Hells, no!” someone shouted, and the audience broke out in enthusiastic applause and calls for more. Enver smiled tentatively, and then sang a couple more of the tunes Estral had taught him.

Estral edged her way to where Karigan sat, Rennard’s gaze following her all the way. She leaned down and whispered, “You are in big trouble.”

Karigan pretended she could not hear and clapped to the beat of Enver’s song along with everyone else. She was darkly satisfied.

When the time came for those not on duty to turn in, Captain Treman gave profuse thanks to Estral and Enver for providing the night’s entertainment.