“It could just be a coincidence,” Bael said without much confidence, and Kett gave him a disbelieving look. “No, I didn’t think so either.”
“I am going to eviscerate him,” she said, clambering off Bael and resisting his efforts to hold her in place. “I’m going to find that damn tiger and feed him to it!”
“And I’ll be right behind you,” he said, watching her pace naked. “But-”
“The sneaky rotten conniving backstabbing shit of a bastard!”
“Absolutely,” Bael said, “but the thing is-”
“I’m going to get his fat, slimy entrails and wrap them around his neck. I’m-”
“Yes,” Bael said, “but the thing is, the Maharaja of Pradesh has one of the biggest standing armies in Asiatica. He’s famous for it. Determined not to let anyone colonize his country again.”
“I’ll kill them all too,” Kett vowed carelessly.
“You and whose army?” Bael asked.
And Kett smiled.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Oh,” Bael said. “That army.”
The five of them stood on a small hill overlooking a valley. It was filled with tents, cooking fires and people sharpening swords.
“I made some calls,” Kett said. “Could have gotten more if we’d had more notice, but…well, really they’re just for backup.”
“But that’s a whole army,” Bael said. “Who do you know with a whole army?”
“Well, her step-uncle, for one,” said Lya. “Technically, he’s head of the whole Peneggan army.”
“But we’re not in Peneggan,” Bael said. They’d crossed the Wall late last night-him, Kett, Striker, Dark and Lya the kelf-and endured a hair-raising journey on the back of a terrifying and completely untamed Xinjiangese dragon. “I thought the Peneggan army had pulled out of Pradesh years ago. Handed control back to the locals.”
“The colony was handed back,” Kett said. “But a battalion or two stayed behind with the handover. It’s not a whole army,” she mimicked Bael’s tone, “but it’s probably enough to attack the Maharaja’s palace.”
“Which is probably why he keeps such a big army of his own,” Lya murmured.
“Checks and balances,” Kett said. “Come on. I know the colonel.”
They walked down into the camp, Striker striding on ahead, Kett discussing strategy with Dark, leaving Bael to walk with Lya. Her bare, three-toed feet pattered silently on the ground. The air was full of sound, but all Bael could hear was the kelf’s silence.
“Look,” he said eventually. “I’m sorry about- I was really rude to you. That day in the café.”
“I’ve had worse,” she said. “It’s all right.” She paused. Dust rose around them. “A kelf didn’t kill your mother, you know.”
“Neither did a shapeshifter,” Bael said.
“No. It was her own ritual. Her own hunger for power. She got the details wrong, and it killed her.” Lya’s huge purple eyes looked up at him. “You know that, don’t you?”
Bael took in a breath and blew it out. “My father knew that,” he said.
“My guess is he thought you’d prefer to be told it was someone you already hated,” Lya said.
“Or he didn’t want to admit the truth.”
“Perhaps. He was a very proud man.” She hesitated. “But not a bad one, in the scheme of things.”
“Yes, well, the ‘scheme of things’ includes Striker, doesn’t it?”
Lya gave him a pointy-toothed grin, and they followed Kett and Dark into the army camp.
The colonel was not, as Bael had assumed, an army buddy of Kett’s, but a fellow Knight from this mysterious Order she’d told him about. He’d been amazed to learn that not only were Kett, Striker, Chance and Jarven all fully qualified Knights, but so were a good deal of Nuala and Tyrnan’s friends.
“Tane’s going to be so pissed off,” Kett commented as they entered the camp and she saluted the guards. “He’s due to join the army next year. Officer training. He’d love to come down here and fight.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“Politics. Can’t get the king’s nephew involved. If he were to be killed by Pradeshi troops, it could turn into an international incident. We’d probably go to war.”
“But it’s okay for a battalion of the Peneggan army to fight?” Bael asked.
Kett made a wavering gesture with her hands. “They’re not technically part of the Peneggan army,” she said. “It’s some bureaucratic bollocks. Don’t ask me the details.”
“Is that why you didn’t let your dad come?” Bael asked.
Kett snorted. “My dad is an international incident. And he’s far too old for all this.”
“Technically, he’s younger than me,” said Striker.
“Technically, you’re a psychotic freak,” Kett responded, lightning fast, “so it doesn’t matter.”
Bael tried not to laugh too hard.
The colonel, an intelligent and hardy man by the name of Darson, gave them food and drink and a tent in which to rest. Striker lay down on one of the bunks, closed his eyes and immediately appeared to be asleep. The other four exchanged glances. None of them were fooled.
“So,” Dark said. “Is there a plan?”
“Second time in a bleeding month I’ve been in a dress,” Kett said in disgust, looking at herself in the smallish, wobbly mirror Darson had provided.
“You look charming,” Lya said, trying to keep a straight face. Kelfs were usually good at this, but apparently not when something was as hilarious as Kett in sequins. “Very…pretty.”
“I look like a Pradeshi whore,” Kett said, and Lya giggled. Kett had never heard Lya giggle before. It wasn’t encouraging.
“You’re supposed to look like one,” Lya said. “That’s your cover story, remember?”
“Yeah.” She sighed gloomily and tweaked at the very low, very short, beaded bodice Chance had given her. Her own charms didn’t quite fill it, but one of the advantages of being a shapeshifter was that you could alter yourself to fit clothes, instead of the other way around.
She’d erased all signs of scars on her body, not that there were many left after Bael had spent the previous night licking her all over and making her scream. Her nipples puckered at the memory and she tried to banish it.
The tiny bodice was matched by a full skirt, also embellished with enough beads and mirrors to dazzle an army. Her feet were bare but for a couple of decorative rings and anklets. Bangles clanked on her arm. Necklaces, earrings and a sort of jeweled headpiece completed the look.
Kett felt like a Yule tree.
She’d altered her appearance to that of a young Pradeshi woman, kohled her eyes and made an effort with her hair. With a lot of concentration, she could make the curls straighten themselves out.
“Ready?” Bael asked, pushing back the tent flap.
“No.” Kett plucked at her clothing in disgust.
He stared. “Is that really you, Kett?”
“I wish it bloody wasn’t. How do people walk with these skirts? They get tangled up. And the whole thing weighs a ton. I’ve worn armor more comfortable. It-”
Bael had her in his arms, kissing her hard, his hands roaming over her bare waist. His body pressed against hers, and even through the heavy skirts she could feel the hardness of his arousal.
“But then again…” Kett swallowed when he let her go. Behind him, the tent flap was closing. Lya had vanished.
“I’d never have recognized you,” Bael said, nuzzling her neck, “until you opened your mouth.”
“I could be another tavern whore.”
He stiffened for a moment then said, “And if you were, I’d know you weren’t, because if you were then how would you know that I wouldn’t know?”
“Um,” said Kett.
He grinned. “Can I see your face?”
She let the shape slip away and the look that came over Bael’s face was her reward. His eyes softened, his lips curved in a smile. He looked like a man in love.