He steered their conversation toward other things—the trip itself, what they expected from early spring's unpredictable weather. Surface topics that didn't require internal questioning or inspire thoughts in her mind that made her twitch with either doubt or an uncomfortable desire. He was good at casual conversation, shouldering most of it while she preferred to listen, and quietly attentive when she did speak.
While they conversed, she grew aware of an intense scrutiny from the other side of the fire. She darted a glance in that direction, glad for the fact the solid color of her eyes and their glow hid their movement from the others. Ogran stared at her and Serovek, obvious dislike pinching his features much as they had earlier when he'd questioned why her ears weren't pointed. A flicker of sly malice sharpened his expression before disappearing. All of Anhuset's instincts came alive in warning.
She left her place to retrieve one of the ale skins and refill her cup. Serovek offered up his cup for a refill as well as Ogran's stare became a bodkin point between her shoulder blades. Serovek's regard, in contrast, held a sensual interest that threatened to scatter her thoughts. A maddening trait.
“Tell me,” she said softly. “How long has Ogran served under your command?”
He tilted his head to one side, obviously puzzled by the question. “As long as my steward. He came to High Salure with Bryzant as his servant then chose to join my guard. He's a decent soldier, and as I mentioned earlier, an excellent tracker. Why do you ask?” He glanced at Ogran who instantly looked away, expression now studiously bland.
“Just curious.” She continued watching Ogran, who peered into his ale cup as if it revealed his fate and fortune.
“I find that hard to believe.” Serovek returned the scowl she gave him with narrow-eyed regard. “You don't say or do anything without purpose. Curious you might be but not for idle gossip. Something about Ogran has raised your hackles.”
She bristled now, affronted by the idea she might be so predictable, especially to this man who possessed a terrifying ability to effortlessly see to the very heart of her. She abandoned the idea of hedging her answer.
“There's something about him beyond a sour demeanor. I have a sour demeanor. This is different. I'd never turn my back on him.”
Once more Serovek's gaze fell on Ogran and lingered. “Not the friendliest sort, I'll agree, but in the years he's served High Salure, he's never given me reason to doubt his loyalty. I won't condemn a man for a wrongdoing he hasn't committed.” Anhuset was about to protest that her observation wasn't a request to somehow punish Ogran, but Serovek stopped her. “However, I trust your instincts implicitly. Familiarity can blind a person to another's ill will. I'll keep a closer eye on him.”
His words stunned her for a moment. Not the ones about Ogran, but those about her. She expected him to justify his choices regarding Ogran. She hadn't expected his blunt and total acceptance of her advice. “Why do you trust me?”
His slight shrugged matched his slight smile. “Because you're sha-Anhuset,” he said, as if that alone explained everything. He rose, dumped out the dregs of his cup and bowed to her before leaving to speak with Klanek who walked the perimeter around the wagon checking the transport for any problems that might slow their trek the following day.
She would never understand him. Never.
Just look closer. Look longer.
“Oh, shut up,” she muttered into her cup, wishing the internal voice had a tongue so she could rip it out.
That night, when all but she found sleeping spots not far from the fire and wrapped in blankets for warmth, she approached Serovek. He'd set up his makeshift bedding near the wagon, almost within touching distance from Megiddo's ensorceled bier. Even facing the probability of suffering from another round of bad dreams that were more than dreams and much, much worse, he refused to stray far from his fallen comrade, though it meant revealing to the others how the Kai magic that protected the monk also infected their stalwart leader.
His half smile held a question and a hope that refused to die no matter how she might scoff. “Decided to share my bed, firefly woman?”
“I admire your fortitude,” she said. “And my answer is still no.”
His quiet chuckle warmed her more than any fire ever could. “I'm also a patient man.” He reclined back on his elbows, long legs stretched so that one foot rested against hers where she stood. “So why have you decided to loom over me?”
She had little skill with the diplomacy of words. Most of the time she preferred not to speak at all. Serovek didn't need a nursemaid, and Anhuset couldn't think of anyone less suited to the task than herself, but she could be of use to him beyond the roles of night guard, armed escort, and Kai representative. “Should you begin to dream, I'll be nearby to wake you.” She kept her voice soft, once more feeling the weight of Ogran's grim regard on her back. No doubt he strained to hear whatever they said.
For a long moment, Serovek didn't answer. He glanced at the wagon adjacent to him before returning his gaze to her. The half smile was gone, allowing her to see the serious side she once thought him incapable of displaying. Shadows darkened the deep-water blue of his eyes even more. “I appreciate and accept your safekeeping.”
She told him goodnight then and left to reconnoiter their campsite and the makeshift rope corral where they'd confined the horses. The forest around them rustled continuously with nocturnal foragers and the predators that hunted them. In the distance, a wolf's lone howl echoed through the trees and was soon joined by a chorus of others. The nearby river tumbled and murmured under a cold spring moon.
To her relief, the night hours remained uneventful, and if Serovek dreamed, they were easy ones that didn't trouble him awake or twist his features in anguish and horror. Megiddo's bier remained dark, no glowing aura of Kai magic to illuminate it or the wagon. When the sun broke across the horizon, she yawned, slid her hood over her head to shield herself from the brightening day, and greeted the yawning margrave with a quick nod.
His slow blinking and sleepy smile made her wonder if this was how all his bedmates saw him when they woke beside him. Made restless by the image her thoughts evoked and the sight of Serovek with the first rays of the sun gilding the silver in his hair, she turned her back and set to relighting the smoldering fire in preparation for the group breaking their fast.
Amid grumbling about the cold and bland road rations, they made short work of the morning meal before breaking camp and setting off once more toward the first dock where a tow boat and small barge waited to take them down the Absu, passing the remains of Haradis, before heading farther east and south by way of one of the river's tributaries.
The captain and his crew waiting at the dock eyed their party with doubtful looks, settling briefly on the wagon with its blanket-covered cargo before resting on Anhuset whose face was mostly obscured by her hood. She kept her hands tucked into the sleeves of her cloak, as much for warmth as to minimize the inevitable macabre curiosity humans had for the Kai.
“We can take the lot of you, but it'll be slow-going with the weight and all. Hope you aren't in a hurry.” The captain smiled a yellow-toothed smile. “And the fare is more when I'm traveling such a distance.”
“How close do you sail to Haradis?” Serovek counted out a pile of coins from a fat purse he kept tied to his belt.
The captain's face froze at the question. He dragged his gaze from the money dropping into his outstretched palm to frown at Serovek. “Too close to my liking, but to get where we're going, we'll have to sail within a quarter-day's walk from it before reaching the tributary.” He scooped the generous fee into a pouch before tucking it into his tunic. He tugged on his tangled beard. “Nothing to worry about though. There's plenty of water between us and the city, and we can navigate right quick past it. You'll only catch a glimpse of the tower remains before it's at our backs and gone.”
Serovek gestured to Klanek to bring the wagon forward and instructed the rest to start loading everything onto the barge. He nudged Anhuset's shoulder, and the two distanced themselves a short way from the rest.
“Here's where you decide if you want to stop at Haradis.” His offer surprised her, one that instinct warned she should refuse, and loyalty to Brishen pressed she should accept. Serovek nodded to the crew. “The captain can sail to one of the narrow points of the Absu without docking. The river is calmer there and easy to wade, even if you can't swim. We can get to the shore and make our way to Haradis on foot.”
“I'm familiar with the path.” She paused, caught by a single word in his plan. “We?”
The teasing smile flickered across his mouth and was gone. “I'll accompany you unless you wish to go alone.” He raised a hand as if to ward off an expected protest from her. “I know you don't need a protector, but this is Haradis.” No amusement remained in his expression, and his voice carried a note that made the hairs on her nape lift a little. His gaze shifted to the direction in which the broken capital lay. “It isn't as you remember it. I'd discourage anyone from going alone.”
Brishen had cut off every suggestion and offer she'd made to visit Haradis and report back to him of its condition. A man of mild temperament and monumental resolve, he barely listened to her arguments in favor of sending a scout. His face had taken on the same bleak look Serovek wore now, as if memory of battling the galla there was a blacker shade than all the dark dreams Ildiko claimed plagued his sleep. The margrave offered her the chance Brishen continued to deny her for reasons he refused to discuss; she'd be a fool not to accept. From a military standpoint, it was both wise and necessary. And Brishen Khaskem wasn't here at the moment.
“I agree with your prudence, but you're not obliged to me,” she said, wishing she could read human emotion more easily. Serovek's face was a study in stoicism, but the tension in his body and her own instincts alerted her to the fact that visiting Haradis wasn't something he anticipated with pleasure. “You fought the galla there. Surely, that's no memory you wish to resurrect.”