That Shalador Warlord troubled him a little. There had been no reason for her to go down to those slave pens and even less reason to buy him. She’d already bought a young pleasure slave. She didn’t need another, especially one who had turned savage.
Or had she bought him with the intention of giving him to a Shalador Queen in exchange for help reaching the Tamanara Mountains?
Krelis smiled grimly.
If getting help from Shalador had been her plan, she was already too late.
Much too late.
Chapter Nine
An hour after sunrise, Jared gave a final pat to the bay gelding and roan mare that were already saddled and tethered to the back of the wagon, and approached the door. They’d broken last night’s camp and were ready to move on, but courtesy and a healthy sense of self-preservation told him he should get the Gray Lady’s permission first—especially since he’d never consulted her yesterday afternoon when he had decided they’d all had enough of slogging through rain and mud and had given the order to make camp.
He raised his hand, but it froze before he could knock on the door. No matter what Jewels he wore, no man would willingly step into that cramped space while two witches were arguing in sharp, low voices that would have been raised to full volume if they hadn’t been trying to keep it private.
Jared stepped back, unsure what to do—and wished, again, that he hadn’t begun the sham yesterday of being the dominant male. His Jewels might outrank everyone else’s except the Gray Lady’s, but what difference did that make? He was a slave. He was hollow inside. He didn’t want to have authority over the other males. He didn’t want the responsibilities that came with that authority. But he’d let a moment’s temper make that choice for him, and now he was stuck with it.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t back away now and just wait until she gave the order to move on.
Before he could retreat, Tomas opened the door, looking flushed and angry.
No longer muffled, Thera’s voice had a dangerous edge.
“You can’t walk. That knee healed better than I thought it would overnight, but it’s not going to take that kind of exercise, and you know it.”
“Then I can ride one of the saddle horses, or sit on the driving seat. That will give others the opportunity to be inside—”
“It isn’t raining now,” Thera interrupted. “If you’re so concerned, let’s stay in this camp for a day and give everyone a rest. The animals certainly could use it.”
Jared winced. Thera sure knew how to twist a verbal knife. By the end of that first morning on the road, they’d all recognized the Gray Lady’s love for animals. If she could have figured out a way to tuck the horses into the wagon to give them a rest, he was sure she would have done it.
“No.” Was that physical or emotional pain in the Gray Lady’s voice? “We have to keep going. I can—”
Tomas had been looking at Jared. Now he twisted around. “You can just sit and get better like you’re supposed to,” he shouted. “What if you slip in the mud and hurt yourself bad?”
“If I’m riding a horse—” The Gray Lady had to be gritting her teeth to make the words sound like that.
But Tomas wasn’t going to be warned or silenced by mere words. “You’ve been walking in the rain for two days now, and you’re a Queen.”
“Queens don’t melt in the rain.”
“You could take sick or something. What if your throat gets sore and you can’t talk? Then what are we going to do?”
An awful silence filled the wagon.
Jared held his breath, waiting.
Whatever was said next wasn’t loud enough for Jared to hear, but Tomas grinned and scampered down the steps. His grin widened when the door closed behind him with a less-than-gentle slam.
“They’re both feeling pissy this morning,” Tomas said cheerfully.
Jared muttered, “Lucky us.” He looked at the closed door, thought about the “discussion” that had just taken place, then shook his head. His mother had been right: When faced with staying in bed because of illness of injury, even the maturest adult turned into an obstinate child.
Giving in to the inevitable, Jared trudged to the front of the wagon and gave Thayne the signal to move out.
Everyone else was ahead of him, Garth so far ahead he’d be out of sight once he topped the small rise. Randolf was leading the rest of them, and Brock had taken a mid position so that he could keep an eye on the wagon and the walkers. Corry was walking between Polli and Cathryn. Blaed was paired with Eryk, who looked grateful to be included again after being shunned by everyone since yesterday’s squabble with Tomas. Tomas walked alone, but there was no indication it wasn’t by choice.
Jared turned up his coat collar and lengthened his stride enough to catch up to Tomas. The rain had stopped for the moment, but the morning air was cold—and those clouds piling up in the west were a sure sign that there would be another storm by afternoon.
Tomas gave him a quick glance that told him his presence was an intrusion that would be endured.
Jared smiled in reply. “If we walk together, we’ll both have some time and privacy for thinking.”
Tomas looked startled for a moment. Then he grinned and returned to his own thoughts.
Jared took a deep breath. As he released it, he felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease.
He hadn’t thought about much in the past couple of days, if he didn’t count the fierce daydreams about staying put in some kind of shelter where he’d be warm and dry, and eating something besides that traveler’s fare the Gray Lady had taught Thera and Polli how to make. He’d learned nothing about the Invisible Ring. If it was shielded, he couldn’t detect the use of Craft. There was no weight, no tightness, none of the things that made a man ever aware of a Ring of Obedience. Hell’s fire, it might as well not be there at all!
Which wasn’t helping him figure out a way to elude it. Except for the explosion Eryk had caused, they’d had no way to measure the Gray Lady’s temper. A deliberately casual comment by Randolf, and Blaed’s fumbling attempt to get information, indicated the Rings of Obedience weren’t tightly held either. A test of obedience? A trap for the first man who tried to slip the leash? Was that why she didn’t insist that they remain close to the wagon? Was she using the Rings to keep track of them? No way to tell. The Gray Lady kept shifting between acting cold and being concerned, which kept them all off-balance and wary of being near her—except Thera and Tomas. He could understand her putting up with Tomas’s lack of subservience. He’d seen a number of Queens amuse themselves by indulging that kind of behavior in an otherwise powerless slave—and he’d seen what had happened to those slaves when the Queen no longer found it amusing. But he couldn’t understand why the Gray Lady tolerated Thera’s tongue and temper. And he still didn’t understand what it was about this Gray-Jeweled Queen that made something inside him restless enough and hungry enough to keep forgetting why he should fear her.
All he knew for sure was that they were traveling through rough country, always heading west or northwest, and hadn’t seen anyone since they’d left the inn. They were far enough north to feel the bite of autumn, especially at night, but he still didn’t know what Territory they were in, and the Lady wasn’t saying.
Or else the Lady didn’t know.
Not a pleasant thought. Mother Night, none of his thoughts were pleasant! He understood why she wouldn’t allow slaves to ride the Winds by themselves, but why hadn’t she bought passage at the next Coach station if she was determined to bring them back to Dena Nehele?