Aren waited for the other man to settle, then continued. “While the rest of the world moves forward, Ithicana languishes. Our only industry is the bridge and the fight to keep the bridge. We grow nothing. We create nothing. We know nothing but war and survival. Our children grow up learning a hundred ways to kill a man, but are barely literate enough to write their own names. And that’s not good enough.”
Aster stared him down, having heard this speech before. But Aren would repeat it a thousand times if that was what it took for men like Aster to accept the change that Ithicana needed.
“We need alliances—true alliances. Alliances that go beyond pieces of paper signed by kings. Alliances that will allow our people opportunities beyond the sword.”
“You’re a dreamer, just like your mother was.” Aster lifted a hand, signaling to the other boats to return. “And it’s a beautiful future you envision, I’ll give you that, Your Grace. But it’s not Ithicana’s future.”
The boats bumped together, and the commander jumped between them, settling himself among his guards. “And lest your dream turn into our nightmare, do us all a favor, Your Grace, and keep that woman locked up.”
9
Lara
Lara slept better than she had in some time, in part due to the narcotics, and in part due to the silence. Her sleep during the journey through Maridrina had been constantly interrupted by ambient noise. Soldiers, servants, horses, camels . . . But here, there were only the faint sounds of birds chirping in the courtyard trees.
It was peaceful.
But that sense of peacefulness was a cloak that hid the violent truth of this place. And the violent truth of herself.
Dressing quietly, Lara ventured out in the direction of the dining room. She braced herself for the possibility that Aren would remember what happened in his room last night. That he’d realize she’d drugged him and her mission would be over before it had even started.
The table was loaded with trays of sliced fruits and meats, creamy yogurt, and tiny little pastries sprinkled with cinnamon and nutmeg. But her eyes were all for the view out the enormous windows. Though it was late morning, the sunlight was dimmed by a filter of clouds, making it no brighter than twilight. Yet it revealed what the darkness last night had hidden: the wild jungle, the trees soaring high, the foliage beneath so dense as to be impenetrable, all of it coated with mist.
“Where is His Majesty?” she asked Eli, hoping he didn’t notice the color that had risen on her cheeks. Circumstances had wrested free from her control last night. In more ways than one.
The older servant woman gave Eli a sharp glance. “His Majesty is early to rise. He has gone with the commander to ensure the new trade terms with Maridrina have been conveyed to Northwatch and Southwatch markets.”
Thank god. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to be face-to-face with him. Not after the things they’d done, whether he remembered them or not. Lara gave the woman a grave nod, hoping it hid her discomfort. “The new trade terms will be a godsend for my homeland. Only good can come from it.”
A shadow seemed to pass over the older servant’s gaze, but she only inclined her head. “As you say, my lady.”
“What is your name? I’ve met Eli, and I should like to know the rest of you better.”
“It’s Clara, my lady. Eli is my nephew, and my sister, Moryn, is the cook.”
“Only you three?” Lara asked, recalling the legion of servants that had accompanied her party from the outskirts of the Red Desert to Ithicana.
A slow smiled worked its way onto Clara’s face. “His Majesty was in the habit of staying in the company of his soldiers rather than this house. Though I expect your presence will change that, my lady.”
There was a faint glint in the servant’s eyes that made Lara’s cheeks warm. “Do you know when he will return?”
“He did not say, my lady.”
“I see.” Lara allowed a hint of disappointment to enter her voice.
Satisfaction filled her as the woman’s face softened. “He is kept busy during most days, but his stomach will drive him home for dinner, if nothing else.”
“Am I restricted in where I might go?”
“The house is yours, my lady. His Majesty requested that you make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you.” Lara then left them to clear the table as she began her tour of the house.
Besides her rooms and Aren’s there were four other bedrooms, the dining room, kitchen, and servants’ quarters. The entire rear side of the home was filled with overstuffed chairs, a variety of games set on the tables, and walls lined with books. She longed to pick them up, but only trailed a finger along the spines before moving on. Every room was filled with windows, but the view was the same from them all: jungle. Beautiful, but utterly devoid of civilization. Maybe this is what Ithicana is like, Lara thought. The bridge, the jungle, and little else.
Or maybe that’s just want they wanted her to think.
Retreating to her rooms, she examined the selection of Ithicanian clothes in the closet, selecting a pair of trousers and a tunic that left her arms bare, as well as a pair of stiff leather boots, and then walked down the hall and out the front door of the house.
Test your limits in a way that won’t make them suspect your capabilities, Serin silently instructed. They expect you to be ignorant, helpless, and indulged. Capitalize upon their mistakes.
Anticipating that she might be followed, Lara started walking. There was a path that lead upward, but instead she chose to follow the spring, knowing that it would eventually deliver her to the sea.
It was only a matter of minutes until she heard the faint tread of someone walking behind her. The crack of a branch. A soft splash of water. Whoever it was had a hunter’s stealth, but she’d learned to tell the difference between sand shifting on the wind and that moving beneath a man’s weight, so catching the errant sounds of pursuit in this jungle was nothing to her.
Noting the signs of several booby traps in the jungle, Lara continued to follow the stream, soon finding herself drenched with rain and sweat, the humidity of the air making her feel like she was breathing water, but still, she had caught sight of neither bridge nor beach. Nor had her follower made any move to interfere.
She rested a hand against a tree trunk and feigned weariness as she stared up, trying and failing to penetrate the canopy and the mist.
Serin had explained in detail what they knew about the bridge. That the majority of the piers were natural towers of rock jutting out of the sea, holding the spans often a hundred or two hundred feet above the water. There were only a few islands onto which the bridge landed, and those were defended by all manner of hazards designed to sink ships. The most central of her goals was to find out how the Ithicanians accessed the bridge along its length, but she needed to find the thing first.
The stream was flowing down an increasingly steep slope, the now cool water pouring over ledges in tiny waterfalls, filling the air with a gentle roar. Holding onto vines and bracing herself on rocks, Lara picked her way down, already dreading the pain of the climb back up.
Then her boot slipped.
The world turned sideways, a blur of green as she tumbled, her elbow knocking painfully against a rock. Then she was falling.