Heartseeker by Melinda Beatty

Author:Melinda Beatty
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2018-06-05T04:00:00+00:00

16

We were answered presently by the pounding of a fist on the side of the coach. “Open in the name of the king!” bellowed Bethan. “In the name of the king, open these doors! Only! Gareth!” There was a note of fear in her voice.

Gareth was frozen, staring at the man lying crumpled at our feet, his mouth moving but no words coming out.

“Gareth?” I whispered.

Gareth didn’t look up. I could only hear the weak thread of his voice repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over. He didn’t even seem to notice the frantic pounding at the door.

“Gareth!” I shouted. My voice broke the spell, and the young man scrambled like a rabbit to undo the bolts. The door to the compartment flew open so fast, he was knocked backward against the bunks. Bethan, wild haired and covered in blood and dirt, burst in with Master Iordan a step behind. She took in the whole scene in an instant—the destroyed privy and the unconscious villain. “Sweet All! Are either of you hurt?”

“No, ma’am,” Gareth answered shakily. “Though it was the Mayquin who brought down the fellow on the floor. I . . . I . . .”

“It seems you’re a young woman of many talents,” Bethan told me as two soldiers reached in to take away the senseless man. She laid a bloody hand on the steward’s shoulder. “I commend you for your honesty, Master Gareth. You’re an excellent steward—it would be foolish to expect a soldier’s showing from you.”

My heart swelled a bit when I saw the effect of the captain’s words on my new friend. His head rose a little higher, and the flush of shame disappeared from his cheeks.

The captain took a deep, shuddering breath. “I also commend you for the strength and swiftness you showed getting Only to safety.”

“A swiftness that would not have been necessary if she had been confined to the coach!” Master Iordan rebuked.

Bethan rounded on the inquisitor, who stepped back in alarm. “Master, three of my men died defending this caravan, including your miserable hide. I won’t have my actions questioned at a time like this.”

Three men died? Defending me? The thought was so horrible, I could hardly bear it—three souls gone because of my stupid cunning. I let my head fall to the pillow and gazed sightlessly at the ceiling. Even though the inside of the compartment smelled of blood, sweat, and privy wood, I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to face whatever was waiting outside. I squeezed my eyes tight shut.

“Only?” Bethan looked into the upper bunk and spoke gently, as if I were a horse that might spook. “Only, are you all right?”

My fingers crept into my pocket. By some good luck, the Jack hadn’t broken. The flame still danced, and I felt my hoofbeat heart begin to slow. Perhaps Lark’s clever magic had been looking out for me after all. I cleared my throat to make sure I had a voice to come out of it.

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