Guin thanked her for her advice, and left as Ashyn turned her attention back to Tyrus.
TWENTY-FIVE
Ronan and Ashyn were outside the hut now. She would stay close enough to hear Tyrus if he woke, but she needed the fresh air and the chance to stretch her legs. They walked along the path leading from the hut. A tree had fallen over it – a small one, easily moved, but they’d left it to discourage anyone from investigating the path.
The hut was only a single room. It had no amenities to speak of, not even a shelter out back for the toilet pit. Ashyn could not imagine living like that for long. Obviously, someone had. Someone who lived off the land. Stole off the land, to be more accurate. They were close enough to the warlord’s compound that all this land would belong to him. Even growing crops on it would be considered theft. Which explained why the hut was so well hidden, a distance from both the road and the spring.
Ashyn didn’t dare walk as far as the road, but they could see it from a curve in the path, and she peered along that seemingly endless stretch of road that would, ultimately, lead to the imperial city.
“Simeon ought to have reached the palace two days ago,” she said. “He’d know he couldn’t stop even for the night. The situation is too urgent. And the emperor would send a fast horse back, ahead of any troops. The rider ought to be here.”
“You’re worried about Simeon?”
She nodded. “He’s no warrior. No great rider either, despite being from the steppes. I fear he didn’t reach the imperial city.”
“You’ve grown fond of him.”
She shrugged and shaded her eyes to look down the road. “He was very knowledgeable and quite companionable.”
“Were you courting?”
She turned sharply, her distraction vanishing. “What?”
Ronan cleared this throat. “I do not ask out of jealousy, of course.”
“I would not presume you do, given that you’re the one who rebuffed me.”
He winced. “I did not rebuff —”
“Call it what you will. I was reacting to the absurdity of the question. I’d just seen Fairview massacred. We were on the trail of murderers, praying to find my village’s children alive. Do you truly think I was batting my lashes at the nearest young man?”
“I didn’t mean courting as in…” He struggled for words and then said, “I only asked if you were moving in that direction, so I could better commiserate with your concern for his well-being.”
“I don’t need you to commiserate with anything. Yes, I am worried, as I would be if it was anyone I know. While Simeon did express an interest, I made it clear his feelings were not returned.”
“Was he angry?”
“I suspect it is impossible to be anything but a little angry when one is romantically rejected.”
Ronan glanced away. After a few moments, he said, “Are you angry? With me?”
“I was confused, Ronan. I did not initiate the kiss. I did not give any indication that I expected it. Yes, I reciprocated – I was returning what seemed to be obvious interest on your part. Later, you acted as if I’d thrown myself at you.”
“I didn’t —”
“That’s how you made me feel. Like a foolish girl who’s been kissed once and presumes a marriage proposal will follow. Perhaps I ought to laugh and say that I am relieved, because I did not truly care for you at all. But I have little experience at lovers’ games, and so I am honest. You may not have intended to hurt me, but I was hurt. Clearly, I’m not wallowing in misery. I only wish you had handled it with more sensitivity.”
“There is more to it than —”
“Hello!” a distant voice called, weak and crackling. “Is anyone there?”
“Tyrus,” she said, and raced back to the hut.
When they reached the hut, Tyrus was sitting up, the blanket tangled around his waist. He looked at her and, without hesitation, he said, “Ashyn,” and she knew his fever had broken.
He glanced at Daigo. The wildcat stretched, his claws extending.
“Where’s…?” he began. Then he stopped. “Moria. She’s —”
He went to leap up. The blanket started to fall and he grabbed for it, the movement too sudden, sending him nearly falling flat on his face. He cursed as he struggled to get his balance. His face was so pale he could pass for a Northerner. Ashyn darted forward to help him as Ronan riffled through the pile of clothing.
“I’m fine,” Tyrus said, brushing her off. “I just need…”
His legs wobbled, and before anyone could grab him, he collapsed back onto the blankets, the one around his waist falling free. Ashyn turned away quickly.
“I need my trousers apparently,” he said with a strained laugh. “We’ll put that at the top of the list. My apologies, Ashyn.”
She murmured that no apology was needed, but her cheeks flamed nonetheless. Ronan passed Tyrus his trousers, which Guin had cleaned – if haphazardly.
“We needed to undress you because of the fever,” Ashyn said.
“I wasn’t about to ask for an explanation.”
She heard the swish and shimmy of fabric as he pulled his clothing on behind her.
“Now, with trousers acquired, I’m fit to get outside this… whatever it is. The smell is enough to send me back onto that pallet.”
Ashyn turned as he swayed. “You truly shouldn’t strain yourself —”