Crown of Crimson by Rose Reid

Author:Rose Reid [Rose Reid]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2016-01-08T07:00:00+00:00

XII

“There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere.”

— Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

Saying Byhalia is suspicious of the refugees would be an understatement. She keeps a watchful eye on Carnahan and Moher, who are by far the most brutish of the bunch, and certainly do not look like the survivors of a nasty war. They have been well fed, even during our journey across the Menca Denu, and their stern expressions put her on edge.

Strangely enough, she and Lyom have seemed to form a quick and easy relationship, though she now knows him under his alias of Lee. Lyom remains respectful and Jamas is just as thankful for her hospitality but he throws in a bit of charm the Swordmaster doesn’t have. Saraiah, Byhalia’s daughter, is helpful to say the least. She brings us in fresh bowls of water that Carnahan uses to clean the wounds of the men. At least that goes along with our story.

“An odd bunch,” comments Byhalia from behind me.

I look up, smiling at her. “They are.”

“How are they related to you?” she questions, taking a seat in front of the hearth next to me.

I look at the men, my gaze flickering to Lyom. Carnahan stands in front of him, the two talking. I see Lyom’s brows furrow and he stands up, glancing at Jamas. I hear him say something but can’t make out the words. Then Lyom follow Carnahan into the washroom Byhalia showed them. Judging from the bandages in Carnahan’s grip, I’d assume they’re checking Lyom’s gash, but why the secrecy?

A thought strikes me. Perhaps Lyom’s men have bought the stories that he is anything other than human. Have they ever seen him bleed? It would make sense that the seemingly-invincible Swordmaster would want to keep his weaknesses from his men but did they not see his red-streaked shirt at the Badger? I scoff. Maybe they thought it was the enemies’ blood.

“Etta?”

Byhalia’s confused voice draws me out of my thoughts and I snap back to her. What had she just asked? My gaze flits about the room and I suddenly remember.

“Not exactly blood relatives,” I explain. “Good men from a fishing village that was under siege. I know them all personally.”

Byhalia raises her deep brown eyes, studying the expressions on each of their faces. Thankfully, they are all acting more human tonight, laughing with each other, punching one another brotherly on the arm. Byhalia watches them thoughtfully.

“It was good of you, Etta.” she finally says. “Good of you to bring them out of Lydovier. Do they have wives? Children?”

I shake my head. “I do not know.” I consider it, though. How many of these men have families waiting for them back home? I take Jamas as my sample specimen, wondering about him. Does he have a family he

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