Maribelle enjoyed what she saw, but immediately understood that it was not going to be for her. The man had refused to leave his horse, and she met him in the stables.
No matter how much rosewater we spray in here, it still smells like hay.
She tried not to wrinkle her nose as she extended her hand to Tlaso.
“You are the vine from which Cora sprouted. A beautiful vine with lovely fruit.” Tlaso’s hand was calloused and his lips were rough on her skin.
“And you, the messenger. Come to tell me how far that fruit has rolled.” Maribelle looked over the man’s tanned, shirtless body.
“I saw them safely to the border with Westgat.” Tlaso bowed, throwing an arm to the side. “They follow the Dust further north still.”
Maribelle stood tall. “How much further north?” Her eyes narrowed. “Into the Azure Front?”
Tlaso stood. “They travel with a Dust Woman and they follow the Dust.”
Maribelle took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Is this Dust Woman known to you?”
“Her name is Lisandra.” Tlaso rested a hand on the side of his yellow horse.
“Lisandra is not a Dust Woman, she’s barely a woman. Who else are they traveling with?”
In a foolish sing-song, Tlaso replied, “The mightiest warrior, Riley of Ariland, a brilliant and beautiful man called Alexander, and a brave and noble hound. Fearsome and formidable.”
“That’s the same troupe she traveled here with! You’re telling me that the entirety of the Plains sent not a soul with my daughter? Not a single adult?”
“Riley passed the trials. She is a Plains warrior.” Tlaso took a step back from Maribelle.
Maribelle patted her hair, “I see. I suppose I am to bite my nails and wait.” She glared at him.
“You seem far too busy for that.” Tlaso gestured at Dottie, who was approaching.
She had dressed in a gown with a deep cleft in the corseting. “The mercenary captain Jacque awaits, if you have finished with—” She turned and waved her fingers at Tlaso with a smile. “—our messenger.”
“Yes, I have finished.” Maribelle shot Tlaso another pointed glance, but he was examining his fingernails. “Lead the way.”
Dottie called over her shoulder as they left the stable. “My offer still stands if you would like better accommodations than the stables. I would love to make room for you.”
Tlaso did not reply.
Maribelle followed Dottie down the hall. “Where have you put Jacque?”
“Second floor parlor. The one with all the liquor. I was trying to make him as comfortable as possible.” Dottie’s heels rang out through the hall and up the stairs. Maribelle padded in her flats behind her, running over the last captain’s complaints in her mind.
Dottie knocked on the door, and opened it to a dimly-lit room with deep wooden paneling. Murky hunting scenes lined the walls and the furniture was moody green leather. The head of a beast was stuffed and hung on the wall for good measure.
Got to have somewhere they can feel like men.
“Lady Maribelle.” The man’s accent was thick and he was talking over a decanter in his hand. “I am so grateful that you have agreed to meet with me, though I fear our time together has come to an end.”
“Have the terms of the contract not been satisfactory for your company?” Maribelle sped across the floor to him, grazing his hand before taking the decanter and pouring herself a drink. She noticed the man’s smile when she touched him.
“The terms are not the issue. The men, they suffer from ennui.” The man gestured in the air with his hand before running his fingers through his shining black curls. “They have, how you say, become disenchanted with this work.”
Maribelle put her hand on his forehead and caressed his eyepatch. “Surely they are not disenchanted with Terndowns. We pride ourselves on having the finest culture, the finest company…” She trailed her hand down to the gold loop hanging from his ear.
“The company is the issue.” The Gallian was creeping out of his voice. “The men are forced to chaperone these…”
“Oh, Jacque. I do find it difficult to listen to your words. That is my favorite accent.” She felt the words ooze, and bit her bottom lip for good measure. “Do you miss Gallia? The emerald shores. I traveled there only once when I was a girl. I enjoyed the beach. Your people are more free there.” Maribelle bent the knee of one leg, letting the calf fall out of the silk.
“The Eldest Daughter of the Six. I miss it every day.” He took back the decanter and took a long pull.
“I would love to see it with you one day. See it through your… eye.” She trailed a finger along the rim of her glass and took a small sip. “You know that you will not be able to return there. If only the borders were not closed, we could go right now. Cheer up your poor company.” She sat down her glass, bending at the waist. “Oh, but surely you have plans. Where do you plan to go?”
“We will go to Kalden and plead that the king grant us passage.” She felt his eyes follow her.
“Ormand is so reasonable, I’m sure he will hear your plea. Have you spent much time in Kalden?”
“No. It is a grey place with no beauty.”
“And do you find what you see in Terndowns beautiful?” Maribelle rose and turned to him, making her voice sharp. “Because there is no leaving Kalden.”
The man took a deep breath. “It would be an act of war to bar our travel from Kalden.” He spat the last word.
“I agree. Ormand has declared war with the world. With his own people.” She softened, and put her lips close to his ear and whispered, “Would you leave me here, defenseless?”
“Fighting with honor. Fighting Ormand, this so-called Dragon, would bring the men great joy. The issue is the furies, these ill.”
“I will triple pay for your men, rotating shifts. No one will have to work more than two days in a row. Give the engineers some time. We are building hospital grounds.” She spoke with no expectation of argument.
He swallowed. “Two more weeks. Then I believe the men will begin deserting me. They do not understand the political climate like we do.”
She pressed her lips to his and strode out of the room.