From Darkness Won (22 page)

She scanned the dark mob of people, but Noam had not yet arrived. Dozens of couples danced. Vrell could not bear to watch, for several were kissing in public. The very idea.

Two young men approached. One had bright orange hair and a short beard with freckles to match. The other was towheaded with a smile that covered half his face.

The towheaded man addressed Gren. “Grenny Fenny, when did yeh move back to Sitna?”

“Cap!” Gren’s smile lit up her face. “I’m not back, just passing through.”

Cap turned his wide smile to Vrell. “Who’s yer friend?”

Gren gave the alias Vrell had chosen. “This is Ressa.”

Cap bent down and propped his hands on his knees so his face was level with Vrell’s. “My, yer a pretty thing, Ressa. Dance with me?”

Vrell’s eyes widened. She would most certainly not dance in such an environment. And with no corset? “Thank you, no. I do not mean to dance this night.”

Though it seemed impossible, Cap’s grin widened. “My
my
. Aren’t yeh a proper little princess.
Ol
’ Cap ain’t good enough for the likes of yeh, that it?”

“That is not what I meant to imply, sir. But I do not—”

“It’s fine.” Gren jumped up and grabbed the redhead’s arm. “May as well enjoy ourselves ’til Noam gets here.”

“That’s the spirit!” Cap took Vrell’s hands and pulled her off her stump. He dragged her into the dancing crowd. But just as he jerked her close, the music stopped.

Vrell stepped back, pulling her hands from Cap’s as she went. “What a shame. The music has ended.” She turned toward her stump, but a new song began.

Cap circled Vrell and cut off her path. “This is one of my favorites.” He grabbed her hand, wrapped his other arm around her waist, and propelled her through the mob.

Vrell stumbled to keep up as he skipped back and forth and spun her around. Onlookers clapped and sang along.

Hail the piper, fiddle, fife,

The night is young and full of life.

The Corner teems with ale and song.

And we will dance the whole night long.

Hear the pretty maiden sing,

Hair and ribbons all flowing.

She can take my heart away,

By her side I long to stay.

Grab that maiden, kick your feet

Laugh and spin and keep the beat

If you
’re too shy to ask a dance

Another man will take the chance.

When the song ended, Cap kissed Vrell on the cheek. “Thanks for the twirl, Ressa.”

Vrell squeezed her hands into fists, shocked at Cap’s audacity. But before she could scold him, he lunged up to a golden-haired woman and whisked her into a dance. Vrell retreated to her stump, dropped onto the unyielding surface, and folded her arms, hoping to look vexed and unsociable.

Yet another man approached from her side. Vrell looked away. If their eyes never met, perhaps he would give up.

But he sat on the stump beside hers. Vrell stiffened, wanting nothing more than to return to Gren’s cottage.

“Where is Gren?” a familiar voice asked.

Vrell turned, delighted to see that it was Noam. “She is dancing.”

Noam squinted at the crowd, his eyes dark under his messy brown hair. “You really going to Armonguard?”

“Who told you?”

He flashed his dark eyes her way. “Harnu questioned my ability to protect two women and bid me think hard before agreeing to help you.”

Vrell laughed silently. “He has a way with words.”

The rushlights elongated Noam’s narrow face. “I’m not brave, like Achan. Thought he was mad for the reckless way he lived. But I’d like to see him again. Think he’d see me?”

“Of course he would! But we are not going to see Achan. Not right away, at least.”

“But if I made it that far—if
we
made it, I mean. You think he would pardon my crimes?”

“What crimes have you committed, Master Fox?”

His face went slack. “None. But if I leave my master…”

“I can assure you, if we make it to Armonguard, you will be safe. Achan will not continue to imprison strays.”

“Then I’ll come,” Noam said. “Though I’m too scrawny to be much help, I’ll do my best to look forbidding.”

The song ended. Gren returned arm in arm with the redheaded man. The band segued into another song.

Noam chuckled. “Ah, the new favorite of Sitna Manor. Have you heard this one, Lady Averella? I bet you’d like it.”

Vrell winced and hoped the music had drowned out Noam’s use of her real name.

He grew up here in Sitna Town,

The hand his life was dealt.

He milked the goats and fetched the wood

Or Poril gave him the belt.

The pawn our king, sing merry, merry, merry.

The pawn our servant king.

For he was once the lowest of all strays

And now claims to be king.

Then the Great Whitewolf took him up,

Taught him to use a sword.

He fought quite well, his blade struck true,

And blood from Esek poured.

Remember us, sing merry, merry, merry.

Remember us, O king.

For you were once the lowest of all strays

And now you’ll be our king.

Vrell smiled at the lyrics. Achan had become a legend in Sitna. What would he say if he heard this song?

The band continued to play. But the minstrel jumped off the cart and broke up a dancing couple. He twirled around twice with the maiden, then left her standing and interrupted another couple. Men from the crowd roared with laughter, as if such rudeness was hysterically clever. Two men from the crowd ran into the mob and copied the minstrel, breaking up couples and dancing with the ladies.

Cap suddenly appeared before Vrell and dragged her back into a dance. He spun so quickly her head tingled. She pulled back, trying to slow them down. Their connection broke. Vrell
s
tumbled. Someone caught her and threw her into a jig. She squealed and held on for fear she might fall.

Yet another man ripped her arm away from her partner. The minstrel! He spun Vrell round and round and round before releasing her. She staggered a few steps and fell to her knees, her surroundings whirling around her.

The minstrel’s voice sang out again.

For he and we were all deceived,

By our own Lord Nathak.

And now the Pawn King marches south

To take Armonguard back.

O rescue us, sing merry, merry, merry.

O rescue us, O king.

For you were once the lowest of all strays

Save us, our precious king.

Vrell still sat on her knees. Couples twirled around her as if she were not there.

“Brazen animals!” a voice said to her left. “Don’t know how father abides them. Look how they treat their women.”

Vrell scanned the crowd for this critical onlooker who was bold enough to judge but unwilling to assist a lady in need. He stood with two much taller men. He was young, not yet a man, and horribly familiar.

Reggio Levy’s gaze locked onto Vrell the moment she recognized him. She pushed herself to her feet and ran.

“Stop that woman!” Reggio screamed, like a boy throwing a temper fit.

Vrell darted past dancing couples, toward Gren and Noam, then thought better of it. For Lord Nathak might try and capture Gren too. Then what would become of her child?

Vrell veered left around a cottage and collided with a soldier, who clapped his arms around her like irons.

“Let me go!” She kicked the unyielding oak of a man.

“Not on yer life, missy.” He dragged Vrell back to the Corner. The music stopped. Everyone stood staring.

Reggio strutted across the clearing, a nasty smirk upon his face. “Why, Lady Averella. What brings you to Sitna? Or do you go by
Vrell Sparrow
these days?” Reggio yelled “Vrell Sparrow,” as if he were hoping the minstrel might make a song of him catching the infamous lady-turned-stray.

Vrell straightened her posture in the guard’s grip. “Good evening, Master Levy. I hear Sitna has the best blacksmith in Carm Duchy. I am in need of a new sword.”

He snorted. “You expect me to believe you came to Sitna for a sword? There’s a price on your head, in case you were unaware. One my father will be pleased to accept.”

“I hear your father has been demoted to Lord of Sitna Manor. My, how well evil men are rewarded. When I get my new sword, Master Levy, I shall test its sharpness on you.”

Reggio’
s cheeks pinked, but he chuckled as if she had made a joke. “You, my lady, are going to the dungeon. There will be no swords for you to wield there.”

9

The overwhelming smell of tobacco woke Achan. A lantern hung on a hook at the foot of his bed, blinding him to anything beyond the canopy. His stinging eyes led him to believe it was still night. But he had stayed up far too late the past few nights, seeking a way around Sparrow’s shields. Maybe it was nearly morning. Or perhaps a dream?

He sensed excitement. Another lesson from the duchess?

“Achan Cham,” a man said.

Achan jolted and rolled over. With the lantern at his back, he could see better. Sir Gavin, Sir Eagan, Sir Caleb, and Shung stood in a line beside his bed, dressed for battle.

Achan sat up so fast his head spun. “Another attack?”

The men simply stared past him. Achan turned to see what they were looking at, but saw nothing strange but Matthias’s empty pallet. Where had the lad gone?

Sir Gavin’s voice pulled Achan’s gaze back to the men. “As a male Er’Retian past sixteen years, you are a man. You received no manhood ceremony to commemorate such a momentous occasion. Tonight we will rectify that.”

Achan’s head tingled. Manhood ceremony?

Sir Gavin peered down upon Achan. “Do you wish to become a man?”

Achan looked from face to face, the night air cool inside his gaping mouth. All four men now fixed their gazes on him. He felt underdressed—he was wearing only his trousers. The beating in his chest drew his eyes back to Sir Gavin’s. “Aye, sir.”