Shadow Road: Book 1 of the Shadows Rising Trilogy

47. Monolith by Moonlight

21st of Nema, Continued

I lay in bed, hoping to put my brain to sleep by learning how the barbarian Roghuari tribes kept themselves alive long enough to establish a territory that once spanned all of northeastern Altyr and Panesia. It was actually not as boring as I had hoped, mostly because the color-plate of Dazhir the Great, the first Roghuari High Chieftain, bore a freakish resemblance to a certain tall, silver-eyed Captain. Enough that I had to wonder if Arramy's military abilities were genetic.

I was idly imagining myself meeting a long-ago barbarian Arramy in the middle of the bloody conquest to unite the northern tribes and conquer the surrounding nations, when someone knocked at my door. Insistently, and with vigor.

Realizing what I had been doing, I frowned, and thumped The History of the Roghuari shut, eyeing it askance as I got up and moved to open the door.

Ydara stood outside, looking less than enthused. She had obviously come from bed, a faded shawl thrown over her cotton night shift, floppy slippers on her feet, her hair swinging in a thick braid down her back.

"NaVarre has sent that Coalition pushda to fetch you," she said, her jaw tight.

I squinted and made a guess. "Captain Arramy?"

Ydara scowled. "He is lurking out there like a monolith. I don't know what business he has with you and NaVarre, but there is a darkness in those eyes that no man should have looking out of him. He wears death like a second skin."

I smirked a little. That, I would have to remember. But the time had come. Without a word, I closed the door and began moving around my room, gathering up the last of my things.

"You don't have to go with him," she said quietly. "I will tell NaVarre that he needs to find someone else."

I looked at her, noting the faint tremble in her fingers where she clutched at her shawl, the white of her knuckles. Had Arramy frightened her that much? I could understand being upset because of something the man said, but there was more to her reaction than mere irritation. She was genuinely afraid. For me. Which made me want to hug her.

"I'll be fine," I said, rapidly exchanging my night shift for the light blouse I had bought on my first – and perhaps only – day off. Then I shimmied into my grey skirt and wrapped my new black woven-cord belt around my waist. A handful of hair pins later, and I had made quick work of coiling my braid up at the nape of my neck.

Ydara let out a breath and came all the way in. "I think you are making a mistake, you and NaVarre," she said, but bent to grab my new shoes from beneath the end of my bed, holding them out to me as she added, "I have known men like that before. They are not to be trusted."

"NaVarre probably needs me to translate something." I finished pulling my stockings on and gave her a smile. "That's all." I took my boots from her and pushed my feet into them.

"You're sure?"

I paused in the middle of yanking the laces tight. "Yes. But thank you for caring."

She shook her head and gave me a sidelong, mildly disapproving look, then heaved a sigh on a shrug and a lift of her hands. "Well, I'll be here if you ever need help." She held out my father's satchel as I stood up. "You can talk to me. About anything."

I nodded. To my surprise she didn't just hand me my bag, she kept going and wrapped me in a firm embrace. "We take care of each other, here," she said, pulling back to look me in the eyes, her hands on my shoulders. "You aren't alone. Remember that?"

I swallowed around a sudden lump in my throat. "Thank you," I got out, nodding a little. "I will."

She took a deep breath, then shook her head and crossed the room to open the door, waiting as I made sure I had everything.