(eng) Kristine Kathryn Rusch by Heart Readers

Author:Heart Readers [Readers, Heart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

Dasis watched the man in front of her. He had braced himself in front of the tent’s flap, his entire body poised as if to spring. She felt the cushions, soft against her back. If only she could get him to hit her, to leave marks on her sensitive skin. Then she might be able to use his own actions against him, and might be able to protect herself and Stashie.

Tarne flung the table leg aside. “You’ll be reading at dawn,” he said. “I’ll be back for you.”

He started to leave, then stopped before raising the flap of the tent. He smiled and Dasis braced herself. “Your partner will be arriving here first. Tell her that I look forward to seeing her again.”

Dasis didn’t respond. He left the tent, and she watched his shadow move along the outside until it completely disappeared. Then she let out the breath she was holding.

Her entire body started shaking. She grabbed the light, its flame flickering with her trembling movements. The warmth seeped into her skin, soothing her as much as she could be soothed.

She had done this. She had caused it. If she hadn’t wanted so badly to earn them a little more money, a chance to quit reading if they wanted to, the opportunity to find a place and live there permanently, then she wouldn’t be here now, waiting for Stashie to come.

If they found Stashie—and if she survived the soldiers’ touch.

Dasis didn’t know how fragile Stashie was. If the things Tarne told her were true, Stashie had once had great strength. All Dasis knew was the woman who froze at the sight of a uniform, who spoke in a whisper when she wanted something—as if she had no right to ask—and who flinched whenever anyone raised an arm in anger.

He claimed he liked to break spirits and perhaps he had broken Stashie’s. He certainly knew ways inside Dasis’s.

The candle was growing too hot against her palms. She set it down, and got up, looking for weapons, any way to save herself and Stashie once Tarne returned.

The tent was a mess. It smelled of sweat and leather. The pillows hadn’t been changed in what looked like months. They were stained and covered with dirt. The table looked makeshift, and the chair had not been sanded. Clothes hanging in the far corner were not the robes of a king’s adviser, but a uniform, clean and neatly tailored. This was not Tarne’s tent. He had used it to meet her. Burning it would not destroy his possessions, but someone else’s.

She walked over to the uniform, her legs shaking unsteadily. She had to control herself. If Stashie saw how frightened she was, Stashie might crack. Dasis needed them both in order to save them.

The uniform was made of a material that Dasis didn’t recognize. She touched it lightly, then felt along the pants, in the cuffs and pockets, for a weapon, anything—a knife, a piece of flint. But she found nothing. The scabbard was missing, and there was no sword.

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