“Of course. Thank you for talking to me.”
After bowing slightly, he strode off.
But Céline’s mind was reeling. How badly did Keegan want to be replaced? Did he want it badly enough to do something desperate in order to sabotage his position here? Could he be infecting his own men? The problem with that theory was that he didn’t strike her as unusually clever, and the question of how such a thing could be done continued to rear its head. Some kind of poison wasn’t likely. Of course it was possible, but she was too experienced an apothecary to find it probable. Yet . . . if it was something arcane, then what?
As she walked through the camp, her thoughts were so busy that she barely noticed when she’d arrived at her own tent.
Passing through the flap, she saw Amelie sitting on the bed. Dusk had set in and the candle lantern on the table was glowing.
“Oh, you’re back,” Céline said, glad to have her sister to bounce ideas off. “How was your afternoon? I just had the most interesting talk with Corporal Quinn.”
Amelie didn’t answer.
“He told me Keegan was forced to volunteer to accept a commission here due to an unpaid gambling debt,” Céline went on.
No answer came.
Turning, she realized her sister hadn’t said a word since she’d walked in. “Amelie?” Walking to the bed, she was startled by Amelie’s bleak expression. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Leave me alone.”
Céline couldn’t believe her ears. In their entire lives together, Amelie had never spoken to her like that. Not once.
“Whatever it is, you should share it with me,” Céline said. “You and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“Don’t we?” Amelie’s eyes flew up to her face. “What about you on our journey here? You told me nothing happened between you and Pavel. That was a lie, and you know it.”
The weight of everything came pressing down on Céline: the ugly poverty of this place, her inability to discover or solve anything, the senseless deaths that continued to occur, the thinly hidden fear of the soldiers—that any one of them might turn into a beast and start killing the others at any moment. It was all too much. Always before, no matter what happened, she’d had her sister, and right now, she felt alone.
Sinking onto the bed, she whispered, “I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?”
“Back in Sèone, I knew Pavel had feelings for me, and I used him in our last investigation. He was angry . . . so angry that he frightened me on purpose, and then I managed to avoid him. That second night of the journey, he caught me . . . and pinned me against a tree.”
“What?”
“It’s all right. Jaromir stopped him, but I can’t imagine what he must have been thinking when he walked up and saw us. I was just so embarrassed and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you, too. I’m sorry.”
“Céline,” Amelie breathed.
Now that she’d started speaking of these things, Céline couldn’t seem to stop. “I know things are much better for us in Sèone, but sometimes I can’t help feeling they were simpler back in Shetâna when it was just you and me. I’m so grateful to Anton and Jaromir for all they’ve done for us, but now both those men have become our friends, and they matter. I don’t know how to be friends with men, and yet I’m terrified of losing one of them or hurting one of them.”
Amelie hung her head. “Oh, Céline. I said the most awful thing to Jaromir. It was . . . it was so awful. I almost can’t believe I said it.”
“You quarreled with him?”
Amelie nodded, and her face shone with misery. “I wish I could take the words back. I wish I’d never said them.” She choked once. “I hurt him.”
Céline put both arms around her sister and pulled her close. “He’ll understand. He knows you have a temper.”
“This was more than temper. You didn’t hear it. I compared him to Keegan.”
Still holding Amelie, Céline realized what a cut that would be to Jaromir, but she was glad that she at least knew what was wrong.
“Let’s make a pact,” she whispered. “No more secrets no matter what. We vow to tell each other everything.”
Amelie gripped her back. “I promise.”
Before Céline could say more, an unfamiliar voice called from outside, “My lady?”
She didn’t know which one of them he was calling for, so she answered, “Yes?”
A soldier who’d been serving at dinner last night came through the flap carrying a tray, and she realized it was fully dark outside.
“I was asked to bring you dinner,” he said, moving in and setting the tray on the table. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, we’re fine. Thank you.”
He left as quickly as he’d entered, and Céline walked over to look down at two bowls of stew, fresh bread, and two goblets of wine. “Well, I guess we won’t be dining in the captain’s tent tonight.” That was a respite at least. She wondered where Jaromir and Rurik were eating.
“Do you think you could come to the table and eat some supper?” she asked Amelie. “We’ve not had much today.”
Somehow, they both managed to swallow some of the stew and bread. They had only the single candle lantern for light, but it provided enough.
“So what’s our next step?” Amelie asked, perhaps looking to speak of something else.
Céline had already given this some thought and could come up with only one conclusion. They were going to have to find a way to coerce Keegan into letting her read the men. At present, they were dead in the water until she had a new avenue to pursue.
But before she could answer, the sound of running feet came from outside the tent.
“Lady Céline!”
She knew the voice. It was Quinn. Without asking permission, he burst through the tent flap.
“Come quick!” he called. “The captain’s in pain. I think he’s dying.”
When Jaromir and Rurik’s dinner was delivered to their tent, Jaromir took it as an insult—that Keegan was deliberately avoiding him. In his current mood, Jaromir realized that he probably would have taken almost anything as an insult, but he wasn’t wrong about Keegan. For some reason, the man didn’t want Amelie or Céline reading any of the soldiers here, but sooner or later, he was going to have to agree. It was just a matter of time.
Unfortunately, the captain seemed determined to drag out the time as long as possible.
Because he was hungry, Jaromir ate the stew and bread and drank the goblet of wine. Rurik ate with him but had the good sense not to try to make conversation. Jaromir didn’t feel like talking, not after what Amelie had said to him.
However, when they’d finished, Jaromir stood up. “I’m going to go speak to Keegan.”
Walking out, he ignored the women’s tent and made his way directly to Keegan’s enormous tent toward the back of the encampment. Only a few steps outside, he heard a sound that gave him pause: a groaning like someone in pain. This was followed by a gagging sound.
“Captain!” a voice cried inside.
Grasping the hilt of his sword, Jaromir swept inside, uncertain of what he’d find.
It took him a moment to absorb the scene he walked in on. There was no one transforming into a wolf. Instead, Keegan was on his knees, gripping his stomach with both hands and gagging like he was trying to retch but couldn’t. Quinn knelt beside him with an anxious, helpless expression.
“Lieutenant!” Quinn called. “He just collapsed. I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Hurrying over, Jaromir dropped down beside them. The captain looked ill indeed, choking and groaning, fingers digging into his own stomach. He began to fall to his side and Jaromir caught him.