Страница 26 из 93
I hadn’t noticed the plating on Zaridan, but I would surely look for it now. Not that it mattered—I’d been riding in front of Sarkin, his strong chest pressed to my back.
“Do you think that you’ll miss yours?” I asked, the question popping out before I could stop it.
The girl gri
Across the clearing, I watched as a female rider—one of those who had traveled to Dakkar—approached Sarkin. Her hand touched his arm, and he turned to regard her. They spoke briefly and then he nodded, following her—alone—into the darkness of the forest beyond the clearing. I didn’t know why, but I felt a pinching in my belly, watching them disappear together, how closely they walked next to one another.
Then I couldn’t help but notice Sarkin’s rider’s reactions. Their shared looks, smug smirks.
I swallowed, jerking my gaze away. When I met the girl’s gaze, I knew she’d seen it too. She gave me a soft, knowing smile. “You don’t have to worry about that. That’s long been over.”
So there had been something?
I shouldn’t care. Then again, I’d witnessed my stepmother’s bitterness for over ten years. She’d been humiliated when my birth had been discovered. It had been a mark against her, an insult that she had never recovered from.
That was the only reason, I argued silently, that I felt a lump in my throat, watching her and Sarkin go off alone.
“This marriage is happening because he threatened to kill my people,” I found myself saying. My tone was matter-of-fact, almost soft. The Karag female blinked, her brow furrowing. “I don’t mistake what this is.”
But it bothered me that others might. That I would turn into my stepmother, that despite all of her strength, despite her good family name, everything she’d accomplished…it could still be tarnished at the hands of her husband.
That was why I could never blame her for her hatred of me.
I’d made the air between us tight and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” I breathed. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean it quite like that.”
“The Karath is a good leader,” she told me. “Any of us would be glad to follow him. He is bound in honor as well. It includes all vows made, even to you.” She dropped her voice. “I’m sure it’s overwhelming. I’m glad I’m not you, to be honest. Thrown into a new life as you were.”
I swallowed, turning my head to regard the edge of the forest where Sarkin had disappeared before I forced myself to look away.
Though it was strange to ask, I realized that I could. “What is your name?”
The girl smiled. “Sammenth.”
Pretty name. I wondered what it meant.
“I’m Klara,” I said. “You’ve been kind to me. I won’t forget it.”
She looked down at my untouched tray of food. “The Sarrothian, I know, are a difficult people to co
“Then why, Sammenth, have you been so kind to me?” I asked, trying to understand.
“Because I know what it’s like to be an outsider,” she confessed. “I am not a true Sarrothian. Half of my ancestors were Dakkari.”
A jolt went through me. I heard myself exhale a sharp, small breath.
A million questions bubbled in my mind, but I kept my lips firmly pressed together. I would scare her away if I bombarded her with questions.
Instead, I asked a single one. “How?”
“Sammenth!” someone called. A group of riders were looking at her expectantly, one waving a loaf of bread in the air. They were all young, I noticed. Their faces unlined by the seriousness and intensity of Sarkin’s riders. Novice riders? I wondered.
There was eagerness on Sammenth’s face when she turned back to me. “We’ll talk again, and I’ll tell you. I promise. Eat now. And rest. We have another long travel day tomorrow.”
And before I could protest, she stood and walked back toward the group, stretched out on their sides or sitting on tree logs they’d pulled from the forest around us. Sammenth gri
She’d learned to be accepted. A Dakkari…just like me.
I could scarcely believe it. But how that was possible, I didn’t know. Though I had my suspicions…guided by the stories my mother had told me all my life. Fantasy stories, I’d always thought. But ever since her death…I’d begun to see them as truth, especially as my own gift had manifested quicker and stronger as I’d aged.
“Finished eating?” came the gruff question.
Sarkin appeared, peering down at me and my full tray of food. He crouched, snagging my bread, bringing it up to his lips and tearing off a bite.
“Have you?” I returned, raising a brow when he dropped the bread back onto the tray. I studied him, looking for unkempt clothing or any laces undone.
His chin lowered to regard me. “What?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Your tone implies otherwise.”
I didn’t want to talk about this, especially since I didn’t even know what I was feeling. “How did the Dakkari come to be here? In Karak?”
Sarkin exhaled sharply. “They came on ships. Long ago. There were hordes along the southern shores for nearly a century. I figured you would have known.”
My jaw dropped. “Of course not. There’s no record of it in our archives.”
“Ah, but you knew, aralye, didn’t you?”
My nostrils flared. His hand reached out to grip my chin, studying me, his eyes flickering to my scar.
If not for this scar, he never would’ve looked at me twice, I realized. It was because of this scar that I was here.
And perhaps I should’ve been grateful for it because he’d been ready to use the ethrall on all of Dothik.
“Finish eating. We’re sleeping up on the cliffs tonight.”
I gaped. “Why?”
After last night? Was he insane?
“Zaridan won’t sleep on the earth, and I’m taking first watch. Since you sleep with me, you go too. No exceptions.”