Especially if you can tell me why men carrying Dakmoran blades were dressed in the colors of Halvarian nobility.” Kahira sent a shrill whistle into the forest, causing me to flinch and the large dog to jump to its feet with a bark.
“You risked your life to help us; we do owe you some sort of an explanation. I am—” I paused, realizing I should not reveal my true title. “Aleana.”
She tilted her head slightly, obviously amused at the hiccup in identifying myself. Ignoring her reaction, I continued.
“This is Ori. Until we are warmed by a fire tonight and have time to explain the rest, let that information be a show of good faith.”
“Very well then, Aleana, I look forward to hearing the rest.”
The loud rustling of movement in the trees interrupted my annoyance at the woman’s colloquial response to my introduction. However, reminding myself she had no way of knowing who I really was, all was forgotten as a large black horse stepped onto the road. It was clear Ori also recognized the horse from the stables.
“He’s a beautiful animal. How did someone such as yourself manage to buy him? I didn’t think they were traded around here.” Ori’s unspoken accusation fell heavily on the already strained tension.
“They aren’t.” Kahira grabbed her horse’s reins and offered another smirk. “And who says I bought him?”
“W E have to be careful, Aleana.” Ori whispered the low warning as he placed the wood for our fire.
“I agree, but if she were going to kill us, I don’t think she would have gone to the trouble of saving our lives earlier.” I watched as Kahira removed her horse’s tack and began grooming him, the massive dog resting only a few steps away.
Ori’s frustration spread to his voice. “Milady, she’s dangerous. I don’t care if she did save us, she’s Dakmoran, and a criminal at that.”
I knew the shock registered on my face.
The guard offered an explanation. “Did you see the color of her eyes?”
I nodded in response. Of course I had seen her eyes. I could not imagine how a person could look at her and not notice that peculiar shade of green.
“It’s a color found only among Dakmor’s easternmost citizens.”
I tried to process the information, risking glances at the woman still working through her nightly routine.
Ori continued. “The burial was another thing. We saw the Dakmorans performing those same rites for their fallen men during the war.”
“And you say she is a criminal?”
“Yes, the tattoo above her eye is a Dakmoran punishment for a crime.” Ori’s brow creased, obviously attempting to remember something buried deep within his memory. “I believe there are different tattoos for different crimes, but I do not remember what three dots would correspond to.”
I was annoyed at myself for needing to ask the questions. I was to be the queen, and yet there were obvious gaps in my knowledge of the land. That alone bothered me more than the thought of Kahira’s past crimes, whatever they might be.
Ori started the fire and began working on dinner. Each of us glanced at the woman across the campsite. Kahira had been the one who led us there, hinting at a great knowledge of the roads. It was yet another of the woman’s talents that did not sit well with Ori. I took over stirring the oatmeal we were cooking, wanting to feel as though I were aiding in some way.
“What of the scar on her arm? What would have caused that?”
“It looks like a brand, but I’ve only seen them on soldiers who had been tortured in the wars. I tried to get a closer look at hers back on the road. It’s a family crest, inverted, but I couldn’t make out the details enough to know whose crest it was.”
“You think someone tortured her?” I knew my concern was painted plainly on my face.
“I don’t know what else it would be.” Ori’s voice was cold, hinting at no compassion for what this woman must have gone through. “It was probably part of her
“You risked your life to help us; we do owe you some sort of an explanation. I am—” I paused, realizing I should not reveal my true title. “Aleana.”
She tilted her head slightly, obviously amused at the hiccup in identifying myself. Ignoring her reaction, I continued.
“This is Ori. Until we are warmed by a fire tonight and have time to explain the rest, let that information be a show of good faith.”
“Very well then, Aleana, I look forward to hearing the rest.”
The loud rustling of movement in the trees interrupted my annoyance at the woman’s colloquial response to my introduction. However, reminding myself she had no way of knowing who I really was, all was forgotten as a large black horse stepped onto the road. It was clear Ori also recognized the horse from the stables.
“He’s a beautiful animal. How did someone such as yourself manage to buy him? I didn’t think they were traded around here.” Ori’s unspoken accusation fell heavily on the already strained tension.
“They aren’t.” Kahira grabbed her horse’s reins and offered another smirk. “And who says I bought him?”
“W E have to be careful, Aleana.” Ori whispered the low warning as he placed the wood for our fire.
“I agree, but if she were going to kill us, I don’t think she would have gone to the trouble of saving our lives earlier.” I watched as Kahira removed her horse’s tack and began grooming him, the massive dog resting only a few steps away.
Ori’s frustration spread to his voice. “Milady, she’s dangerous. I don’t care if she did save us, she’s Dakmoran, and a criminal at that.”
I knew the shock registered on my face.
The guard offered an explanation. “Did you see the color of her eyes?”
I nodded in response. Of course I had seen her eyes. I could not imagine how a person could look at her and not notice that peculiar shade of green.
“It’s a color found only among Dakmor’s easternmost citizens.”
I tried to process the information, risking glances at the woman still working through her nightly routine.
Ori continued. “The burial was another thing. We saw the Dakmorans performing those same rites for their fallen men during the war.”
“And you say she is a criminal?”
“Yes, the tattoo above her eye is a Dakmoran punishment for a crime.” Ori’s brow creased, obviously attempting to remember something buried deep within his memory. “I believe there are different tattoos for different crimes, but I do not remember what three dots would correspond to.”
I was annoyed at myself for needing to ask the questions. I was to be the queen, and yet there were obvious gaps in my knowledge of the land. That alone bothered me more than the thought of Kahira’s past crimes, whatever they might be.
Ori started the fire and began working on dinner. Each of us glanced at the woman across the campsite. Kahira had been the one who led us there, hinting at a great knowledge of the roads. It was yet another of the woman’s talents that did not sit well with Ori. I took over stirring the oatmeal we were cooking, wanting to feel as though I were aiding in some way.
“What of the scar on her arm? What would have caused that?”
“It looks like a brand, but I’ve only seen them on soldiers who had been tortured in the wars. I tried to get a closer look at hers back on the road. It’s a family crest, inverted, but I couldn’t make out the details enough to know whose crest it was.”
“You think someone tortured her?” I knew my concern was painted plainly on my face.
“I don’t know what else it would be.” Ori’s voice was cold, hinting at no compassion for what this woman must have gone through. “It was probably part of her
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