"Mother, I mean Jouseen told me I was to go to Listel, that she would meet me there." Grisha said.
"And Hindor, what of your father?" Kilan said, watching her.
"Hindor? He's not my... Oh God! You mean..."
She had suspected there was something between her mother and the weathered old swordsman. Just the way her mother would stop to watch him in the yard when he was training the new recruits. But he had never so much as spoken to Grisha, not a single sentence.
"Relax, child." Kilan said, reaching into his robe and pulling out a small flask. "Drink this. It will settle your stomach a bit. I see we have some explaining to do before we continue our journey."
Grisha scooted toward the fire, moaning softly as the heat sunk into her. She hadn't realized just how cold she was until she felt the heat. Kilian held out the flask to her and smiled. She sniffed at it, looking at him suspiciously.
"It is just watered down wine M'Lady. I assure you it will do nothing but ease your stomach, that along with a few bits of bread." He said, pulling out a small wrapped loaf from his pocket and handing it to her.
"I'm no lady sir. But I am grateful for the food and drink." She said, suddenly feeling ravenous.
She realized she had eaten nothing in two days, and the odors drifting up from the bread made her mouth water.
"Perhaps, but perhaps not, M'Lady. That is yet to be decided. Until then we will err on the side of courtesy. I had assumed Jouseen had revealed some things to you that apparently she has not. For that and the confusion my statements have caused, I apologize. Let me start by explaining that which brings us to this point."
Kilan removed his robe and laid it on the ground before sitting down cross legged near the fire. Grisha couldn't help but stare at his long golden hair shimmering in the firelight. His almond shaped eyes stared at her, their deep blue color seeming to pierce to her very soul as he began to speak.
His clothes were a strange dark green that shimmered and twisted, seeming almost to move of its own accord as he picked up a piece of the bread and popped it in his mouth. He didn't really smile, yet their seemed to be one, just underneath his skin, ready to burst free. It was a smile of contentment rather than one of joy, and it spread a warmth through her as he looked at her.
Grisha sat wide eyed as the stranger spun his tale. Some of it she knew, some of it she didn't. Some of it seemed so outlandish that she had to interrupt him.
"I have never seen this Jorda. I am sure by the way you speak of him, I would have noticed him skulking around the keep." She said, shrinking at the stranger's gaze.
"Oh, I am sure you have seen him, whether you remember or not. He has a way about him. He's not exactly invisible, but he doesn't..., how to put this, he is easily forgotten. He's careful to make sure he leaves no lasting impression on people."
"But such a vile creature, surely I would remember him. He must look like some sort of demon." Grisha said.
"Oh, my dear. He looks nothing like what he truly is. He hides himself behind layers of deceit and trickery. Had you somehow managed to penetrate his veil and see him for his true self, I doubt you would be here to tell of it. Still, he was there, always skulking about somewhere in the shadows. I am sure if you press your memory, you will recall him. Not anything about him, I am sure, but you will recall a figure that always seemed to be there, yet never gave reason to be noticed."
Grisha rattled her brain, trying to picture the loathsome man, but all she could come up with was shadowy glimpses of a nobody, a figure amongst figures. By the time Kilan finished his tale, she was more confused than ever. She had thought little of the boy who, she was certain, was the father of the child already growing within her. He was kind, yes, and handsome. He was...
"Keep telling yourself that. Keep saying you thought little of him; deny that he walks your dreams every night." She thought, her hand dropping to her stomach. "That doesn't make it true. You knew from the moment you met him."
"We have a long journey yet ahead of us." Kilan said, emptying his cup into the fire.
"Listel can't be more than another day's ride." Grisha said, standing up and smoothing her blouse.
Kilan let out a soft chuckle and shook his head.
"Listel is but the start of our journey." He said, hanging the wineskin back on his hip and kicking dirt onto the fire. "A very small part."
Chapter 27
Ian slid out of bed slowly, careful not to wake Ayra. She was sprawled out in the bed, her nakedness barely concealed by the sheer silk coverlet. He stood for a moment, staring at her, his mind flooding with memories, memories of life before they had come here. He wished he could go back to then, to the time when it was just him, her and Lia. He knew that was foolish. He knew that even then, even when things had been so much simpler, there had been this plan, this plan forming in her mind.
Ian was no fool. He didn't trust Ricah, and knew better than to believe what she told him. Still, there was enough truth in the web of lies she spun, enough to let him know Ayra was looking for the same thing. Grisha and Jouseen had made it pretty clear, and yet as he stood there, he couldn't help but wish things were somehow different.
Even after everything that had happened, Ian couldn't help but feel his emotions stir as he stared at his mother. She rolled over in her sleep, the covers falling away to reveal her smooth flesh. Ian stood motionless, watching her breath, wondering if somewhere deep inside she still wished for the life they once had. He wanted to believe that was the case, that she was as much a victim of circumstance as he was. He wanted to blame everything on his aunt. It was easier that way.
"I still love you, mother." He whispered, as he walked quietly to the door and slipped out.
It wasn't until he stepped into the cold dark hallway that the enormity of what he was about to do crashed down on him. Tiber, the guard that had been placed outside the door sat with his feet up, his helm sitting on the floor beside him as his chest rose and fell in the steady rhythm of sleep. The man was a decent enough fellow, and for a moment Ian actually felt bad for what would happen to him, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Timing was critical. He had just a little over two hours to get to Lia's chamber, gather her up and get clear of the keep before the guards changed watch. If the new watch caught Tiber still sleeping they might very well check on the chamber and his absence would be discovered. If not, it would give him an extra two hours before daybreak, and by then he planned on being well away from this place.
Taking a deep breath, he moved down the hallway, making sure to stay near the wall and dodging into doorways whenever he heard footsteps. Fortunately at this time of night, few were up and about, and those that were had pressing duties that left little time to wander about. As he walked, Ian relived the time since his arrival at the keep. Nothing had been as his mother had promised, or he had hoped. It had been a series of disappointments and heartbreaking revelations, one after another.
It had been a month since Grisha and Jouseen had disappeared. Ian had been livid when he learned of it, accusing Ricah of doing them harm. But the way she had blown up, accusing the women of plotting against her, and adding that Hindor must have been in on it as well had been enough to convince him that the women had ran off, and done so with Hindor's help. That had resulted in his Aunt and mother keeping a far closer watch on Ian, including requiring him to spend his nights in one of their chambers, though he wasn't certain if that was to keep an eye on him, or the sense of urgency they were expressing about getting pregnant.
Despite himself, Ian had performed, spending one night with his mother and the next with his aunt. What had started as sheer bliss had turned into an almost torturous drain on his spirit. He almost wished he had been allowed to stay ignorant about their motives. It would have been far easier to spend his days wandering the halls and his nights between their legs without knowing.
He knew even that wasn't true. As the days had passed, his mother had referred less and less to Lia. Nothing seemed to matter to her except getting pregnant. At least she was patient. Ricah, on the other hand, was beginning to lose patience, and had begun accusing him of plotting against her. Ian tried to visit his sister a few times only to be turned away by the nurse, claiming she had just gone down for a nap, or was taking her bath, or some other excuse that only served to anger him. It was like his family had been torn from him, leaving him with nothing but two pussies to fill, and days to wander the keep.
