Blood & Tears by Patty Jansen

Author:Patty Jansen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, magic, steampunk, postapocalyptic, icefire
Publisher: Patty Jansen

Chapter 16

JEVAITHI WOKE in the comfortable nest of furs and the familiar feeling of soft leather against her naked skin. She wondered why she had awoken, because it was still pitch dark. The breeze made the sides of the tent billow inwards.

There was a small noise close by, without a doubt inside the tent. She reached out to the other side of the bed where Isandor had climbed in some time long after she had gone to bed. The spot was empty, but the furs still warm.

“Isandor?” she whispered, straining to see.

The noise stopped.

“Go back to sleep,” he said.

“What are you doing?”

“Please, go back to sleep.”

She sat up, drawing the furs over her naked skin. The tent cloth flapped with a gust of wind that made her shiver. Something jingled that sounded like the clasp of a cloak being done up.

“Isandor, please. Let me know what’s going on.” She rose from the bed and padded across the earthen floor where she sensed Isandor standing. She touched his chest, and her fingertips met the warm fur of his cloak. “You’re going outside?” She went to kiss him, but he brushed her off, just like he had earlier that night, after finally coming to bed. It opened up a big hole of uncertainty in her. This was the third day that he hadn’t made love to her. Did he not love her anymore? The thought closed on her like a vice. Everything had changed since she’d gone back to being Queen. They should never have come here, but stayed on Milleus’ farm.

“Where are you going?”

“There is something I need to do,” he said.

“I’m coming.”

“No. It could be dangerous.”

“I’m still coming.” She grabbed her clothes and started to pull them on, humid and dirty as they were. “Do you think nothing we’ve done so far was dangerous? We were going to stay together. You promised. And any trouble you make I will have to deal with anyway.”

“All right.” He snorted. “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

She finished dressing and followed him out of the tent, where two shadows fell in step with them.

Isandor said, “These are Kenna and Zito. We can trust them.”

At least whatever he was doing wasn’t so secretive as to require the absence of guards. That comforted her, a little.

After the Chevakians had withdrawn, people had rearranged the tents in a more familiar pattern of circles. The open space of the circle that included their tent was deserted. The fire in the open-sided cooking tent had died to a feeble glow. Jevaithi could still smell the scent of the animal that had been roasted for dinner, and could still taste its tangy meat which stuck between the teeth.

They walked into the night. The cold and humid air bit into parts of her skin not covered by the cloak. The only sound was the whistling of the wind through the guy ropes and the occasional flap of canvas.

Isandor led the group into a narrow alley sheltered from the wind. At the end, they came to the large tent where Chevakian trucks had brought supplies that afternoon.

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