Into the Shadows by Linda K Hopkins
Chapter 21
The Drameara paused as they crossed the threshold, glancing around the room. He stared at one particular corner, then with a deep breath, headed to the opposite side of the room. Lark frowned at the unfamiliar behavior as she followed him. He took a seat at a table and flicked his finger at the waitress. “Ale and whatever meal you have on offer. And find out if there’s a room available.”
The woman glanced at Lark. “Just one?”
“Aye.” He returned his gaze to Lark, dismissing the waitress, and she left with a sigh of disappointment.
“We shouldn’t share a room,” Lark said wearily. She tried to muster some outrage, but it seemed beyond her.
“You think I’ll take advantage of you, princess? Believe me, if I were interested, I could easily have done so by now.” He leaned forward. “How many nights have we been alone together?”
She looked away, too tired to argue. “Enough, I suppose.”
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed. “Did those Crimson Guards steal all your fire, princess? Or are you just miserable at the thought of more Cambrians dying?”
She shook her head. “No, I, er …” She fell silent.
“Why didn’t you fight back when they surrounded you? You’re not completely helpless, you know. Or even try to run away? If I hadn’t appeared when I did, you would have been raped and assaulted.”
It was her own helplessness that made Lark feel so wretched now. “I didn’t know what to do.”
The Drameara watched her as the food arrived on the table, the ale sloshing slightly. “Something happened. What was it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. How old were you?”
She looked away, and he leaned forward on the table. “Tell me, Lark,” he said softly.
Her eyes flew to his, which were dark and angry despite his soft tone. He had never called her by her name before.
“Twelve,” she said. “I was twelve.”
“What happened?”
She turned to look out the window, watching the leaves on a tree rustle gently on a breeze beneath the light of a lamp.
“I followed my brothers and Val into the city, but they were too quick for me, and I lost them on a side street.”
She told the Drameara that when she overheard their whispered plans to sneak into the city, she had begged them to allow her to go too, but they had laughed her off. “You’re just a baby, and a girl,” they had said. “We don’t want you hanging around with us.” But she had refused to be put off and followed a few feet behind, keeping pace with them when they quickened their steps, until finally they shook her off in the narrow streets of the old city, leaving her hopelessly lost.
“Were they Rhymers?”
“Four of them. They seemed so big, while I was so little. I tried to escape, but what could one little girl do? One of them grabbed and held me, while the others …” She trembled, pushing away the memory of grasping hands and demanding lips.
“You’re not helpless anymore,” he said. “You are no longer twelve.” He watched her for a moment. “How far did they go?”
“Madam Breena stopped them as they were pushing me to the ground. She owns the Dragon’s Philipott, and when she heard the commotion, she came out swinging a walking stick. She frightened them enough that they ran away, but not after giving her a few bruises.”
“Did your brothers come back for you?”
“No. Madam Breena helped me back home.”
“Were the boys ever punished?”
“I never told anyone.” His face stiffened. “By the time I arrived home my mother had a terrible headache. I didn’t want to worry her more by telling her what happened. And it all turned out well, because Madam Breena has been treating her ever since.” Lark stared at the tree, silhouetted by the rising moon. It had not been the first of Mother’s headaches, but it had been the most severe – made worse, Mother had told her, by Lark’s absence, and her concern over her daughter lost in the city.
“So the boys got away with molesting you, and your brothers got away with abandoning you!”
“I should never have followed them in the first place. Then none of it would have happened.”
“Stop,” he said. “What they did was wrong, but you are strong enough and smart enough to recognize that it was not your fault. Taking the blames makes you weak. Place blame where it belongs and become stronger.”
“How?”
“Get angry. Your brothers abandoned you. Feel outraged for the twelve-year-old girl who endured the assault and never told anyone. Learn to fight, so it doesn’t happen again.”
“And who do I fight? Rhymers?”
“You fight anyone who deserves it, whether they be Rhymer or Cambrian.”
“I don’t know how to fight.”
“Did your father never teach you how to defend yourself?”
Lark gave a little snort. “I wanted to learn. Iron and Crag were learning how to use a sword, and I wanted to, as well. But apparently such activities are not suitable for a girl.”
“So, he left you defenseless, dependent on men like your brothers and the prince.” He shook his head. “Tomorrow, you learn how to fight.”
He dug his fork into his food, and Lark did the same. It had grown a little cold as she shared her story but was still tasty and filling.
“If you teach me to fight, I could fight Rhymers.”
“As you should, if necessary.” He beckoned the waitress to bring another tankard. “The Rhymers are my allies because we share a common enemy, but I fight for my mistress, not the Rhymers.” The ale arrived and he downed it in one gulp, then gestured for another.
“Are you not Rhymer?” Lark asked.
“Once, long ago. But not anymore.”
“How do you stop being Rhymer?”
“By becoming Drameara.”
“You became Drameara? You weren’t born this way.”
“No.” He looked around. “I hate this place.”
“Why?”
“It was here that I saw my parents for the last time.” He brought his gaze back to hers. “They were arrested by the Crimson Guard, and never seen again.” He finished his ale and beckoned for another.
“Planning to get drunk, are you?”
“Yes, but I’ll still catch you if you try to run, although I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to keep my anger in check. I’m only here because of you.”
“So it’s my fault that you’re getting drunk,” she said with a snort.
He raised the fresh tankard the moment it landed on the table. “Glad we understand each other, princess.”
She finished her food and sipped her own ale, pondering what he had said.
“What happened when your parents were taken?” she asked.
“We ran, my brothers and me. We thought the Guardsmen were going to take us, too. But we got separated. The Ancient found me and saved me.”
Her eyes widened slightly as a missing piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “It’s the Ancient’s blood you drink,” she said. Her brow furrowed as she considered that. “Does it heal you?”
He lifted bloodshot eyes to meet hers. “Yes. And now I’m going to have to kill you.”
“Oh, why?”
“Because you shouldn’t know that. You’ll tell the commander.”
“I thought I was never going to see the commander again.”
“You’re not.”
She nodded. “What is your name?”
“Seven.”
“The name your parents gave you?”
He turned away to stare out the window. “Kalen.”
She smiled triumphantly as he finished his ale, slammed down the tankard, and ordered another.
“Why do you drink the Ancient’s blood?” she asked.
He gave her a bleary look. “You think that my drinking means I’ll give you more information?”
“Well, you already have. And since you’re going to kill me, you might as well tell me everything.”
He gave a snort. “Nice try, princess. Now, let’s get you to bed.”
His movements were a little slower than usual, the only sign that he had been drinking. When they arrived in the room he reached into his bag and pulled out the stone jar. Removing the stopper with his teeth, he tipped back his head and drank, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Feeling better, Kalen?”
He shot her an annoyed look. “That’s not my name.”
“But it was.”
“Aye.” He placed the jar back in the bag. “It was.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“They were hung for treason. They were plotting to kill the king.”
“So the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“I suppose not, princess.”
“Still planning to kill me?”
“I’ll decide in the morning. Right now I need to dispose of those Guardsmen.”
“What will you do with them?”
“I’ll consider my options as I walk,” he said evasively. “I’ll be back before dawn.” Checking his weapons, he turned and left the room, locking it from the outside.