Warrior's Touch (Deadly Touch book 2)
Uncertain Company

Another corner with another double row of doors. So far, Anya hadn’t entered any. More than likely they were private rooms, but Gaemil hadn’t been in either of his studies. She trotted down the corridor, trying to do so silently. If Gaemil was behind one of these doors, she prayed him speak so she might hear. The maid, following close behind, seemed to understand and kept her own kitchen-shoed footfalls muffled with light steps. In the absence of Llew, the woman’s presence was reassuring.

The communications room door was open. Normally a quiet space between Gaemil’s private quarters and the rest of the mansion, the familiar tap, tap, tap of the telegraphist’s lever diminished against the accompanying crash and crackle of paper being moved in piles and pieces.

Gaemil riffled through pages, scrunching some into balls and hiffing them aside. Others he flicked into a shorter pile. The rest he dumped aside as he moved onto a new pile.

The telegraphist hunched in his chair at the farthest point he could be from Gaemil while still performing his job, daring neither to get in the way nor complain. Anya, too, was reluctant to venture across the threshold. Maybe it would be better to leave Gaemil be, speak to him later, let his temper peter out. But he only had half the story. And who knew when Aris might act? True, Jonas would protect Llew against any outright attacks, but he’d backed down for Aris before. She couldn’t imagine Jonas letting Aris do anything to hurt Llew or their baby, but what would stop the captain ordering his lieutenant away on some task?

She cleared her throat and Gaemil froze, one hand still holding up a corner of a stack of paper, the other in the act of pulling a single sheet free.

He craned his neck – a move that at any other time might have tested Anya’s chastity – turning his glower to Anya. Not on her, no. His ire was directed elsewhere. Still, it didn’t feel much better being the unintended recipient of that look. The maid shifted behind her, and Anya reached a hand back to share a grasp, as much to ensure the woman’s loyalty as to offer any comfort of her own.

“What are you looking for?” Anya kept her voice light even as her fingers curled around the maid’s. Best to focus on him first, draw him out one step at a time. Then she’d pounce on him with their need to follow her friends.

Gaemil blew out a sigh and continued his turn to face Anya properly. He looked ready to be reasonable. The telegraphist’s posture relaxed, his lean less awkward.

“I have been sitting on some messages from Turhmos requesting intelligence on Aris and, in particular, Jonas’s movements.” He leaned the heels of his hands and backside on the desk, crossing his ankles. “I suddenly had a strong desire to respond.” He pursed his lips, clicked his tongue, nodded to himself. He pushed off the desk and turned to one of the pieces of paper. “They know they were in Turhmos. They know Llew was with them.” His finger trailed over the shorthand notes. “Something about stretches of dead vegetation, some farm animals. They’ve been itching for an invite.” He stabbed at the page a couple of times before turning back to Anya, folding his arms, and falling back against the desk again. It slid the inch or so to the wall. Somehow Gaemil’s balance was unaffected. “They respect my desire and right not to have a blood bath on my doorstep, but they had asked that I keep them abreast of developments.” He pressed his bottom lip up. “There would seem to have been a development, yes? At the risk of looking like I was taking sides, I had been keeping silent, but, well …” Gaemil looked at the telegraphist, who was quietly filing the piece of paper he’d been working from.

Perhaps sensing eyes on him, the telegraphist glanced up and away again before anyone called on him. He grabbed pen and paper and pressed fingers to his headset, concentrating on whatever he was, or wasn’t, listening to.

“You sent it already …” A slow-boiling horror settled in Anya’s heart. Like Gaemil, she wanted Aris to pay for what he’d done to the books. But where Aris went, so too did Jonas, and Llew … “Jonas didn’t burn your books. And Llew, she’ll be caught up in anything Turhmos do.”

“I simply told them he was no longer here. I didn’t ask them to enter Brurun. They can’t send the kind of force they would need to tackle Jonas into Brurun. We won’t allow it. Just don’t …” He waved a hand, dismissing the conversation, then lowered his eyes, lips and jaws pressed together.

“Don’t worry?” Anya asked. “Is that what you were going to say? ′Don’t worry’? My best friend is out there in already uncertain company. Of course, I’m going to worry about her irrefutable enemies knowing where she is and how protected she isn’t. Oh, Gaemil …” She didn’t know what to say. She respected him so much but putting Llew in danger was unforgivable. “I have reason to believe Aris plans to kill Llew’s baby.” She raised the evidential booklet.

“What is that?” Gaemil held out a hand to receive the blackened volume.

“An abortionist’s handbook. It would have held details of how to safely end pregnancy, if it were still readable.”

Gaemil flicked the crispy pages. “I don’t know that this proves anything,” he said calmly, and Anya’s constitution did exactly the opposite. “He burned it with the rest. For all we know he took offense to it. I know I do. What is such a manual doing in my home?”

“We need to warn them,” she said.

“Of what? As I said, I don’t think this proves anything.”

“What about your books?

He shrugged. “I’ve advised Turhmos of Aris’s most recent status. There’s little more I can do, other than get on with replacing them.”

“What about Llew and Jonas?”

“From what I’ve seen, they’re both capable of looking after themselves.” He smiled at her, kindly and somehow managing not to be condescending. “Have a little faith in them, huh?”

“I do. And I may not have known him as long as you, but I have spent enough time with Aris to know he’s capable of more than you’d guess by looking at him. I know it may not seem feasible, but I believe he’s going to kill their baby, and probably before it’s born. Maybe even before they reach Quaver. We have to stop him.”

“Listen. I have more of a right to be angry about that pile of ash than anybody. But how can you go from burnt books to accusing Aris of infanticide? It’s ludicrous!”

“Please, Gaemil.” Anya took a step closer to him. She’d seen women use their wiles on men before. She wouldn’t insult him by trying, but by closing that gap she hoped to stand up to him as an equal, not stand back and plead like a supplicant. “Call it a woman’s intuition. Call it what you want. But I feel in my gut that I am right. Please. Can’t we send a messenger after them?” It was tempting to reach for his hand, to cool his temper with a touch, but she refrained.

“If Aris burned those books, the moment he sees anyone come after them he’ll know why they’re there. He won’t let them talk to Llew or Jonas without being there to hear the message himself.” Gaemil pushed off from the table and cupped Anya’s shoulders in his big hands. “Whoever I send after them will be putting their lives on the line. Are you prepared to do that? For intuition about something that, even if Aris wants it, we can’t fathom how he could achieve it?”

Anya pulled herself up, tilted her head back and looked him in the eye. “Yes.”

Gaemil watched her for a moment and Anya didn’t falter.

“Alright,” he sighed. “I’ll send a man. But only one.” He released her and headed for the door. “A group will spook them. One man might have a chance.”

“What about a woman?” Anya turned to the maid still waiting by the door. “A woman with something Llew may have left behind.”

Gaemil turned back to Anya, a smile curving his lips, pride lighting his eyes. “Yes. Do that.”

***

Llew was as eager as the other riders and the horses for a break in the road when they stopped for a lunch of ham sandwiches at the kitchen of a small motel sometime after midday. Interestingly, Karlani didn’t take the lunch as a chance to work at Jonas’s affections. She sat beside him at the table, but it was Aris she listened to as he filled her in on the delights she was about to experience in Quaver. Mostly, these consisted of being surrounded by Kara. Llew wasn’t so enthused.

Sitting on Jonas’s other side, Llew enjoyed his frequent furtive glances and smiles. They kept their own conversations minimal and clipped, allowing Karlani to eclipse their interactions from Aris.

Emerging into the weak winter sun, Llew was startled to see a woman waiting for them by their horses. Her horse was drenched in sweat and puffed out billows of steamy breath.

She approached Llew.

“Miss Anya forgot to give you this.” She held out a chain with a chunky pendant hanging from it.

Looking at the woman properly, she believed she did recognize her from Gaemil’s household. But she’d never seen the pendant before, and Anya hadn’t said anything.

“What is that?” Aris moved in closer and Llew snatched the pendant.

“That’s right.” She smiled around at the others. “Anya said she wanted to give me something to remember her by. Not that I’ll ever forget her. Thanks.”

The woman bobbed a curtsy and, with a nervous glance at Aris, hurried back into her saddle, wheeled her horse around and dug her heels into its flanks.

“What is it?” Aris held out his hand.

Llew brandished the necklace, but kept it well clear of his grasp. If Anya had sent that woman racing after with it, it wasn’t something she wanted falling into Aris’s hands, Llew was certain of that much.

“A necklace,” she said lightly. “Something her ma gave her. She had said she wanted to give it to me, but we forgot in all the excitement of leaving. I guess Anya thought it was more important for me to have it than I realized.” She gave a short laugh. “She’s very kind, isn’t she?”

Llew pocketed the necklace and swung into her saddle before Aris could press the issue.

“She is a charming, naïve girl,” Aris said, not looking at Llew, instead watching the trail blazed by the messenger with narrowed eyes.

Then he clapped his hands for attention, startling Llew and nearly causing Amico to bolt, but she pulled the reins firm before the horse got traction.

“Time to move on,” Aris said, as if nothing had happened.

Aris booked two rooms at a hotel that night. Men in one. Women in the other. No doubt part of his reasoning was to keep Jonas and Llew apart.

A less than comfortable silence divided the women as they prepared for bed. At least the room was a good size, with the space between the single beds big enough for two more. On entering, Karlani pressed her fingers into the first bed and Llew headed straight for the second. But as she bent to slip her boots off, Karlani came up beside her and pressed down on that mattress, too. Making an appreciative sound, Karlani peeled back the blankets and ran her hand over the sheet, then she stood looking at Llew, eyebrows slightly raised, as if Llew were some dim-witted buffoon.

Llew looked back for a few moments. But it had been a long day, and all she wanted was for Karlani to go to sleep so she could find out what Anya had sent after her.

She collected the boot she had removed and limped back to the other bed as Karlani threw her bag of clothes on her chosen one.

Despite her best intentions, Llew couldn’t seem to keep her eyes from straying towards the other woman as Karlani turned down the gas lamp – no electric lighting here – and stripped off her travel attire. The moonlight seeping through the shutters bounced off every perfect curve.

“You want these? You can have ’em,” Karlani said, unashamedly giving Llew a full-frontal before pulling on her shift.

Llew’s cheeks burned like hot coals. She sat on the edge of her bed, her thumb running around the edge of her pendant in her pocket. There was a bump on one side that she was sure was a button.

“They’re more trouble than they’re worth half the time.” Karlani climbed into her bed and lay back, hands behind her head. “I know what your Jonas thinks of my bodices. He thinks I wear them to create a spectacle.” She chuckled. “I wear them to avoid one. The fact remains, these like neither centrifugal forces, nor gravity.” Karlani turned to face Llew. “Men might notice mine before they see yours but, in truth, men love them all. Big, small, it doesn’t matter.”

Llew lay back and pulled her blankets up high, feeling strangely exposed. But she hadn’t missed Karlani’s use of the term ‘your Jonas’. The problem was, she didn’t know if it was a hint that Karlani was going to back down, or if it was some sort of gibe.

“He wasn’t much impressed by your choice of footwear, either.” Llew said it with a light tone, as much curious to talk a little longer with the other woman as she was ready to make her own verbal strikes, if need be.

“What’s the point in practicing in clothes or boots I wouldn’t be wearing in reality? How absurd to practice in soft pumps when it’s much more likely I’ll be wearing heeled boots should we find ourselves ambushed.” Karlani lifted her blankets and slid between the sheets. “Not that it’s likely in Brurun or Quaver.” She sighed. “Between you, me, Jonas and Hisham, I’d say we’re a formidable group for anyone with ill intentions.”

Llew grunted her agreement, but otherwise remained silent. Then she lay listening into the dark, waiting for Karlani’s breathing to change.

It seemed an age before the Syakaran eased into sleep, and Llew nearly drifted off a couple of times herself before she felt it was safe to slip from her bed and to the window. There would be a frost in the morning. On this clear, crisp night, the moon created shadows of everything, and might provide enough light to see what Anya had given her.

Leaning into the window frame, Llew worked the catch free and eased the shutter open. The night was still, so although the night air froze with its chill, there was no wind to whisk it deeper into the room. Karlani shifted in her bed. Llew held herself firm, ready to declare her love for looking upon the moon, should the other woman wake. But Karlani soon settled again.

Reaching out so the pendant could catch the moon’s glow, Llew squeezed it until a click announced the opening of the tiny latch. Being careful not to make a sound and holding back the shivers ready to wrack her body in the night’s cold air, she peeled back the pendant’s door.

Something fluttered to the floor.

Llew stooped to collect the folded scrap of paper, so small she could hardly believe anyone could write anything meaningful on it. It was folded in on itself several times. She unwound it as she stood. Stretching it flat, she held it out to the light again.

“What’s that?” Karlani stood by Llew’s shoulder. “What does it say?”

“I don’t know.” Llew turned to catch a glimpse of the message, but Karlani snatched for it. Llew snapped her hand away, but the note slipped from her grasp, landing on the windowsill. She reached for it again, as Karlani did the same, but the movement created a breeze that sent the note fluttering out the window. Llew pushed the shutters fully open and gripped the windowsill, leaning out. A tiny flicker of white highlighted the note’s descent, until it was lost from view, even before it hit the ground.

“Damn it!”

She turned, but Karlani was already by the door.

“You’ll have to go through me to get it.” The Syakaran’s voice held a velvety texture that might have been soothing in a different situation. “We can wake Aris. I’m sure he’d like to know about it. He knows your friend’s intended rather well. Are you willing to bet on him having no influence on their future together?”

Llew looked over her shoulder at the still ajar shutter. Had Anya sent the note with or without Gaemil’s say so? There was no way to be sure.

She turned back to Karlani, who nodded to Llew’s bed. “Sleep. Be a good girl and I might not mention the note’s existence to Aris.”

Llew swallowed. All signs pointed to Anya wanting to get the note to Llew without Aris knowing.

A note. A note that might simply contain a declaration of love from one friend to another. Or, more likely, a message of warning. Llew could guess at the tone of its contents.

She returned to her bed, careful not to make sudden movements. After a while, Karlani crossed the room and closed the shutters, then returned to stand by the door.

Llew lay awake a long time, waiting for Karlani to return to her own bed, but she didn’t. Despite her best efforts, Llew eventually fell asleep.

Aris woke them early, keen to get on the road again.

As soon as she stepped outside, Llew swept the ground with her gaze, but Karlani shadowed her every move, with Aris casually watching from farther back. She hoped not to find the note as much as she wanted to.

And as she squeezed Amico between her calves, a fleck of white tucked under the hotel’s boardwalk caught her eye. With Karlani riding behind, she had no choice but to ride on. She pressed her hand to her pocket with the locket tucked inside.

I’ll be careful, Anya.

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