The Invisible Ring (The Black Jewels #4)(31)
Author: Anne Bishop

“Maybe it would help,” Jared muttered as he followed the boy inside and firmly closed the door.

Silence strained tempers already frayed by fear and exhaustion, broken only by the scrape of utensils against plates and murmured requests to pass something that couldn’t easily be reached. They choked on the food that had been bought with a young witch’s life, but they ate it. Their bodies needed fuel. Landens might envy the Blood’s magical powers, but they didn’t understand the price that went with it; didn’t understand how fiercely that inner fire could burn, especially in those who wore the darker Jewels; didn’t understand how quickly it could consume the body that housed it if no other fuel was available.

So they ate in silence, never meeting each other’s eyes, each one wondering whose life might pay for the next meal, the next shelter.

Jared sighed with relief when the meal finally ended.

Thera picked up her plate and walked over to the kitchen area of the large single room to begin cleaning up. Within moments, the only ones left sitting on the benches on either side of the long wooden table were Jared and the Gray Lady.

He’d deliberately sat at the opposite end on the opposite side, as far away from her as he could get. Now, with the others dallying with the last chores in order to stay away from her and nothing but the long table separating them, he looked at her for the first time since she’d met him at the doorway and thanked him.

After a minute, she raised her head and met his cold stare.

There was nothing in her gray eyes. Nothing at all. As if all the fire in her had been doused.

Then she flinched and fixed her eyes on the chipped blue jug filled with autumn wildflowers that sat on the table.

Why? Jared wanted to ask her. He could understand that Sapphire-Jeweled bastard riding back here ahead of them to create the psychic wire in order to make sure they found the clearing. But why had the man taken the time to fill a jug with flowers? Because he was certain the Warlord Prince had done just that.

He understood the rogues giving up the shelter and providing supplies in exchange for Polli, even if that son of a whoring bitchhadn’t given them the key for the protection spells. But the flowers gnawed at him. They were a sign of affection, something a man gave a woman to lift her spirits. Was the Warlord Princethat grateful to get a female? Or was there another reason for the gesture?

Jared watched her reach out and delicately touch the petals of a dark-orange flower. He didn’t ask.

His bitter reply when she had thanked him had wounded her deeply. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did—because a rogue who should have hated her for owning slaves had given her flowers.

She rose slowly, her hands braced on the table to support her.

Jared clenched his fists and forced himself to stay seated as she slowly, painfully, limped toward the door.

The other men glanced at her, glanced at him, and quickly looked away. He was the dominant male. His refusal to help her amounted to an order for the rest of them, and only a direct order from her would countermand it.

She had reached the door before Tomas spoke up. “Lady? Aren’t you going to tell us the next part of the story?”

Jared turned to look at her. Her eyes were closed. Pain deepened the lines in her face.

“Not tonight,” she said in a husky voice. She stepped out into the rain, hobbling over slippery ground to the wagon.

Guilt stabbed at Jared. As glad as they were to get away from her, she was even more relieved to get away from them. A Queen should never feel that way about the males who served her.

Jared shook his head. Hedidn’t serve her. She had bought him. He owed her no loyalty. No matter how many back roads they traveled, they’d have to come close to the Winds sooner or later. That’s when he’d try to slip the leash. To go home long enough to see his family, and talk to Reyna.

The dishes were washed and put away about the same time the thin mattresses, blankets, and pillows that they’d found in the cupboards that filled the left side wall were spread out over the floor.

As Jared started pulling off his boots, he noticed Thera’s longing glance at the hipbath and folded screen that stood in one corner of the room. He understood the longing. He’d been wet for three days, but that didn’t mean he felt clean.

Shaking her head, Thera picked up the kettle heating on the stove, dropped a gauze herb bag into two mugs, and filled them with hot water.

Jared shoved his foot back into the boot and went over to her. “We could move the hipbath over near the stove for warmth,” he said quietly. “It wouldn’t take much Craft to heat the water, and the screen would give you privacy.”

Thera didn’t look at him. Picking up a spoon, she poked at the herb bags. “Is that how it works among your people? Giving one woman an extra dollop of courtesy evens out giving another one none at all?”

Jared’s temper flared, but he kept his voice even. “You approve of what she did today?”

“Even good Queens sometimes have to make bitter choices.” Thera lifted the herb bags out of the mugs, set them in a small bowl, and picked up the mugs. “Step aside, Lord Jared. I want to turn in now.”

“You’re going out to the wagon,” he said accusingly.

Her green eyes became shadowed with something that sent a shiver up his spine, reminding him that, even when she was broken, it was wiser not to tangle with a Black Widow.

“Are you going to try and stop me?” she asked too gently.

Jared stepped aside. When she closed the door behind her, he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

A few minutes later, little Cathryn realized she was the only female in a room full of men.

“Where’s Thera?” she asked, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for a way to escape.

“Thera’s staying in the wagon,” Jared said soothingly. “She and the Gray Lady need to be alone tonight.”

The men stirred, instinctively wanting to ease Cathryn’s fear while bitterly knowing there was nothing they could do without escalating that fear into full-scale panic.

Corry worried his lower lip while he watched Cathryn. Then he pushed his mattress over until it touched hers. “It’ll be all right, Cathryn. I’ll sleep right beside you.”

“You can’t,” Cathryn said shrilly. “You’re a boy.”

Blaed cleared his throat. “Since Corry’s taken on the duties of an escort, it seems to me he’s entitled to claim Escort’s Privilege.”