Page 15 of Onyx Cage: Volume II
I bitterly shoved the thought away. It didn’t matter, not when he was already in Chridhe. What mattered now was getting there before any alliance was struck.
Once we were fully through the garrison, only twenty men remained in our escort—numbers I was far more comfortable with. It made our odds far more decent, should their hospitality fall short.
With that thought, I reluctantly made myself climb back into the suffocating carriage, playing the part of emissary over soldier for the sake of the Lochlannians around us. At least the carriage had windows on every side, making it impossible to sneak up on, and my men were more than capable of staying alert to signs of danger.
It was really the prospect of sitting alone, with only my tumultuous thoughts for company that I was dreading.
I spent hours recalling all the customs and culture of the Lochlannians I had studied over the years. The words unfolded in my mind as if I were reading them on the page once again. Words and sentences, paragraphs and entire books outlining the expectations at court. The preferred dances and musical instruments. The proper ways to address each member of the royal family and the history between the northern and southern halves of the kingdom.
Each thought was punctuated with a memory of bowed, pink lips and spring-green eyes. Of unrestrained curls and dark blood against creamy skin. Of a warm body pressed against mine and the taste of vodka and honey on her tongue…
A knock sounded on the carriage door, a much-needed distraction from my persistent thoughts. I sat forward, meeting Pavel’s gaze through the window. He made a gesture that meant we would be stopping soon.
“Their majesties thought it best if we made camp,” the soldier in charge said when the carriage rolled to a stop.
I read between his words easily.
Make camp rather than go to an inn where the villagers no doubt hate our people, he meant. Prejudices ran plenty deep on both sides of the mountain, it would seem. Not that I hadn’t known that, from Rowan’s pointed barbarian remarks at the Summit.
Though, that night, while watching the raucous group of soldiers lounging casually by the campfire, I couldn’t help but think the remark was hypocritical, at best.
My men and I sat farther away from the flames and the light and fire it cast upon us. Did they not care that anyone could easily spot them in the glow of the fire? Or was that not as much of a threat in Lochlann like it was between feuding clans and theBesklanovvy?
Out in the open air, in nothing but the fabric of a tent to conceal our party, did they really not have to worry about the dangers we could encounter? Bawdy jokes and booming laughter echoed through the camp, and my men bristled at the noise.
“Are all Lochlannians this loud, do you think?” Henrick asked quietly.
“So it would seem,” I responded. “You and Pavel take the first watch, then wake Yuriy and Otto.”
The two men dipped their chins once while the rest of us moved into our tents to eke out whatever sleep we could get.
It was better to risk offending our hosts than losing my men when we were so exposed. Or starting a war, for that matter, which my death on Lochlannian soil would certainly accomplish.
My father didn’t strictly know that I was here—it was easier to stall him until I knew exactly what would be gained from this journey since he was unlikely to take well to the idea of negotiating with the people he hated. But he was sure to find out if I didn’t return.
Not that I was concerned about being taken by surprise. I was hardly likely to sleep in the midst of unfamiliar soldiers with only two of my men on watch.
Let alone surrounded by very noisy reminders ofher.
I was right about the sleep, but I used the long days in the carriage to catch up on that rest, in between studying the handful of books I had brought with me. Though the weather here didn’t appear to be quite as volatile as Socair’s, we had several days of rain that had us crawling along at a frustratingly slow pace.
I used the time to consider how I would handle the delicate issue of my presence, rather than Taras's, something I admittedly had not taken the time to consider when I left in a gust of fury.
One emissary from Bear was largely like the next, though, I told myself, and I had far more bargaining power than Taras did. That should be enough to cover for my presence here.
Once I had contented myself with that, I began picking apart Korhonan’s storms-damned letter and imagining what his time in Lochlann had looked like so far. Had her family already agreed to the marriage? Had they dismissed him outright?
That wasn’t likely, considering it was his entire reason for visiting, and what little I knew of Rowan’s father suggested he would not have allowed Korhonan to make the journey without his permission.
That was aside from the fact that Korhonan wasn’t impulsive by nature. His duty was an inherent part of his makeup, and though the princess tended to bring out less than flattering aspects of us, Theodore wouldn’t risk his clan without making sure every single one of his actions reflected well on his brother, his clan, and his duty to both.
That realization calmed the voice in my head that raged against the grueling pace of our party.
As much as I wanted to always think ill of him, I couldn’t blame Korhonan for that. I wouldn’t abandon my people, either. As clan heirs, we had both learned that obligation before we had learned to speak.
It was the reason he had written to me, clearly spelling out his intentions and location. He wouldn’t risk jeopardizing the safety of his clan by impetuously marrying Rowan without my permission, and he wouldn’t stay here ignoring his duties at Elk.
Even if her reckless arse insisted.