Ava bound off the thread and tugged it tight.
“What’s that?” Tras, the guard on duty with her, had gotten used to her working on something as they waited for the lieutenants to come to them with their orders for the day.
“A gift for the Skäddar.” An apology, really. For leaving him in the middle of a fight. She smoothed it over the saddle leather in front of her, and eyed it critically.
“Those are the patterns on his face along the bottom edges.” Tras nudged his horse closer to look more carefully. “Is that a scarf?”
“It gets cold in Skäddar.”
Tras made a non-committal sound beside her and she realized the wait for the lieutenants was over. They were approaching. She folded the thin, soft scarf in half, rolled it up tight and shoved it into her jacket pocket before she raised her eyes to greet Raun-Tu and Heival.
They were watching her with interest.
“You don’t sew while you’re on watch, do you?” Heival asked.
“Only while I’m waiting for orders, or when I’m on my own time.”
Raun-Tu gave a grunt of dismissal, uninterested in her embroidery. “You were a spy for the general.”
“She mentioned it?”
“She did.” Heival looked unamused. Her hair was tightly braided today, and she flicked it over her shoulder in irritation.
“I was not authorized to tell you.” Ava lowered her gaze. “You would be the first to agree.”
“That is both true, and annoying, at the same time.” Heival suddenly smiled. “And at least it makes this nonsense of yours that highlanders are better fighters than the steppe-dwellers finally make sense. You’re obviously highly trained.”
“You were a spy for the general?” Tras sounded outraged. “You never told me!”
“Nor could she, on orders of the general.” Raun-Tu’s tone was harsh, the stocky lieutenant looking between them as if to assure himself Ava really hadn’t said anything to her fellow guard. “But you forced the general into revealing who you are with your display last night. Very undisciplined.”
Ava stared at him for a moment. She hadn’t considered this. That she would be thought rash and impulsive for the way she’d gone off with Luc the night before.
She had been rash and impulsive.
And she would do it again without a second thought.
She bowed her head. “I had not seen my heart’s choice in nearly two months. I had prepared myself for sneaking over to him when we reached the Rising Wave tonight, and reuniting with him in secret, but he had the same idea about me, and when I looked up during the fight and found him standing there . . .” She shrugged and lifted her hands.
Every word of it was the truth.
“That’s romantic,” Tras said. He had a look in his eye that said he could barely sit in his saddle he was so eager to go off and spread the news. Unfortunately for him, their shift was just beginning.
He ended up peppering her with questions throughout the morning, as the camp packed up and began to move like the behemoth it was.
She deflected most of the questions, and was tired of the topic by the time it came to break for lunch.
They went their separate ways, he to his unit’s campfire, her to hers.
“Avasu.” Deni was standing by the horse station when she drew up.
She slid down and looked at his face. He seemed concerned, rather than angry.
She suddenly realized her error from last night.
She had bargained with the general to protect Luc from her own demons and baggage. And she would do it again. But she should have tried to find a way to protect Deni as well. He was her friend. One of the first friends she’d had in years. She didn’t want to lie to him.
She decided she wouldn’t lie to him.
“I looked for you,” he said. “When the messenger from the Rising Wave carried you away I was worried.”
“He wasn’t a messenger from the Rising Wave.” Ava reached out and grabbed Deni’s hands. “He’s my lover, Deni. The one I told you about who has my heart. And he is the Commander of the Rising Wave.”
Deni’s hands jerked beneath hers. “How can that be?”
“You’ll hear a story today about me being a spy for the general, and how I was captured by the Kassian and imprisoned in the same dungeon as the Commander, and how we escaped together two months ago.”
“A story?” Deni watched her, and she saw he understood what she was saying.
“A story. Some of which is true. Some of it . . . less so. But it is the story the general has told her lieutenants. I want you to understand that some day you might hear a different story. Don’t be surprised when you do. Know that this story is the one that works for now. It is the one that will keep the most people safe.” And if she had her way, the real truth, the one she was hiding from Luc, would never come out.
Deni turned his hands over to grasp hers. He squeezed. “That is all I need to know. The general has already told her lieutenants this story?”
“Raun-Tu and Heival have already dressed me down about it this morning.”
“Dressed you down? What for?”
“For forcing the general to reveal my identity because I couldn’t control myself at the sight of my lover. My going off with him was very public.”
Deni suddenly laughed. “The look on the Skäddar’s face when you just left the ring. Like you didn’t care.”
She shrugged. “The moment I saw Luc, I didn’t care.”
Deni laughed again, and clapped her shoulder. “Come eat. You can tell your story to the rest of the unit.”
She glanced at him, to make sure he understood what she’d tried to say earlier, and he gave the tiniest nod.
When they reached the circle, she saw the Skäddar, Kikir, was sitting with them, and she slid into the open space beside him.
“I have something for you.”
He turned cold eyes on her. “If it’s the offer of a rematch, forget it. I don’t fight people who leave the ring before time is called.”
“I am sorry for that. But my heart’s choice had come to find me. He and I have been parted for two months, and I had not expected to see him until later today in the Rising Wave column. I was overcome and I apologize.” She dug into her pocket and held out the soft, fine scarf, bought from one of the small stalls that set up shop on days when they reached their night’s destination early enough.
She’d bought four of them, all plain, undyed cotton, as smooth as bird’s down.
He stared at it, and then took it carefully.
“How could you do this in just one day?”
“I worked on it all yesterday afternoon and finished it this morning.”
He smoothed it across his palm and then wound it around his neck.
“You match,” Sybyl said, moving her finger between his face and neck.
“This is intricate work.” Kikir smoothed his fingers over the ends, the only place she’d worked the design. “I never thought it could be duplicated on cloth.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Someone had handed her a piece of flatbread and a bowl of stew, and suddenly starving, Ava dug in.
“So what’s this about your heart’s choice, Avasu? Surely love couldn’t draw a highlander away from the fight?” One of her unit, Nabi, poked at her. Most of the teasing was goodnatured, but with Nabi, she sensed an edge.