Pixilated (9 page)

Kayseri turned to look at the captain.
"Sirocco’s?"

"Watch the alley, little girl," Kree
admonished. "You did not think those dried out oatcakes were meant
for people, did you?"

She glanced at him with bright delighted
eyes. "You ate them!"

He gave her a wink. "I have eaten worse
tasting things. Usually at your house."

She nodded. "My mother is a terrible
cook."

The captain was intent on the street below,
but a crooked smile lurked at the corner of his mouth. "Your words,
not mine. Your mother can’t make up her mind whether or not she
likes me, and she thinks I stink."

"Oh, pooh," Kayseri chided. "You are my
father’s covenant brother, unanimously loved by all of clan Bruin
and you know it."

The note of approval in her voice was
unmistakable, but it was the wrong thing to say. It reminded Kree
of his proper role in her life. He frowned at the street below
losing all trace of his teasing good humor. Below them, a
chambermaid stepped off the rough plank sidewalk and hurried across
the street. "They're moving." He twitched the curtain back into
place, but continued to watch through the lacy fabric.

In a matter of minutes, Eldren said, "A man
just came out of the alley."

"Do you recognize him?"

"Yes. It is the ruffian who spoke to
you."

"I’ve got one too." Kayseri was practically
jumping up and down. "It’s the boy you gave a coin to."

"Which do we follow?"

Kree grinned into his beer mug. Eldren’s
agony was a thing of beauty.

"My money is on the stableman." Chana popped
another piece of cheese into her mouth.

Kree scratched the red stubble, which had
sprouted on his chin overnight and considered his options. What did
he have? A kidnapped Thallasi princess of the First House touted as
the last hope of two races. If he failed to recover her and humans
were behind her abduction, there would be an all out race war. In
addition, he had Kayseri whose adoring gaze told him he could do no
wrong. Her regard spread warmth thick as honey in his middle, but
its sweetness was a distraction he could ill afford. Then, there
was Prince Eldren, waiting for his decision with the look of a man
on the rack. As much fun as drawing out his decision would be, Kree
could not afford maliciousness just now. Goddess willing, he'd get
another chance.

"I agree with Chana. We go with the
stableman." The captain wrapped their leftover breakfast in the
tablecloth and handed the bundle to Kayseri with a playful wink.
"Be careful."

"First chance I get!" Katie darted out the
door, so clearly enjoying her great adventure Kree could only shake
his head and chuckle.

"Why did you say that?" Eldren demanded. "Is
Kayseri in danger?"

"No, elf. It's just something Qets troopers
say. It means—well—it means good luck."

"Why not say ‘good luck’?"

The elf was obtuse.
Chana rolled her
eyes at Kree as she went out the door. Eldren’s confusion was so
plain; Kree placed a hand on the elf's fine boned shoulder. "I
should have, Eldren." He used the same hand to propel the elf
prince into the hall with enough force that Eldren crashed into the
wall with a satisfying thump.

A dog that barked at them while its tail
wagged was the lone inhabitant of the deserted boardwalk. Kree
noticed Kayseri standing beside her mare and threw her a quick
admonishing look before he realized that she waited for a leg-up.
In the fraction of a second, he wasted fantasizing about her weight
in his palm and the touch of her hand on his shoulder, the damn elf
prince stepped forward and robbed him. It was probably for the
best.

Kree turned Sirocco’s head in the opposite
direction to that taken by the stableman and clicked his tongue,
easing his horse into a smooth trot. Kayseri and Eldren trailed out
behind. Chana brought up the rear. As soon as they rounded the
corner, out of sight of the tavern Kree reigned in. Catching hold
of a low roof overhang, he lifted out of the saddle and flipped
heels-over-head onto the roof.

"What are you doing?" Eldren demanded.

Kree lay flat on his stomach grinning down
at the peevish elf. "Playing a hunch." As he crawled up to the
ridgepole, he could hear Kayseri and Eldren arguing about something
in the alley below. The low buzzing conversation pulled at the
edges of his concentration. He slid down a little way, so he could
sit up yet stay out of view. Resting his forearms on his knees, he
coughed very softly. They glance up, and he made a sharp cutting
gesture just below chin level with his thumb. Kayseri covered her
mouth with her hands and raised her pretty shoulders a fraction.
Her look said, "Oh, sorry." Eldren pursed his lips, his eyes were
pale icy blue slits of arrogant impatience, but he remained quiet.
Chana gave Kree a look that said plainly, "They're your problem.
You deal with them."

The captain crawled back to the ridgepole.
From this vantage point, he could see the livery clearly. The
gap-toothed stableman emerged from his shack not five minutes later
and entered the barn. Kree grinned as he slid down the roof and
dropped onto Sirocco’s back. The horse, unused to such treatment,
reared in protest, but his sure hand brought the high-strung
stallion under control.

"What did you see?" Kayseri asked as soon as
Kree moved up beside her.

"Our helpful stableman just went into the
barn." He watched her nimble pixie mind work.

Her eyes widened. "He’s going to warn the
squire."

"That would be my guess."

"Guess!" Eldren exploded. "Does it not occur
to you the man might be going about his work, and you are allowing
the real messenger to get away?"

Kree turned to look into the elf’s too pale
eyes, he held on to his temper by a thread, applying years of
discipline to do so. Goddess! He loathed the haughty pointy-eared
prig. "No. It doesn't. If the real messenger is getting away, I am
a prince of Thallasi."

From the corner of his eye, Kree saw Chana’s
lips twitch. To her credit, she smothered her smile with her hand.
He changed to a less combative tone. "Third law of campaigning is
always go with your gut. My gut has kept me alive in the field for
twenty years. I know that does not seem like much to someone like
you, but the thing is, Goddess nectar makes a man feel
indestructible. Consequently, we Goddess-born fellows tend to be
reckless impulsive types. Usually, we don’t get more than a year or
two in the field before death gobbles us up.

"You asked me why troopers say be careful.
So I’ll tell you. When I was a lad, my recklessness convinced my
father I would not survive my teens. He told me to ‘be careful’
every time I left his sight. He meant, I should use my head for
something besides a battering ram, trust my gut, and stay out of
other people’s fights. My father said this because
wanted
me
to come home
alive
. It became a running joke around the
garrison, and now we say for luck.

"Although, I never got the knack of staying
out of other people’s fights, which I’m guessing is lucky for you,
I did learn to use my head and trust my gut. If you want me to find
your princess, you are going to have to trust it too, because I’ll
tell you right now, Eldren, I intend to come home alive."

Eldren did not appear the least convinced by
his explanation. The elf’s gaze shifted to Kayseri. "Do you believe
this?"

"Trust him, Eldren. If there is a way to
save Sandahl, he will. Has he not said so?"

Eldren made a sound as near a snort as Kree
had ever heard an elf make. Kayseri’s expression became pleading,
and something passed between Kayseri and the elf in which Kree had
no part. Jealousy burned through him.

"You think he would give you the moon if you
asked it, but I tell to you, Kayseri, the man hates our race."

Kayseri’s eyebrows arched. She favored the
elf with her I smell cauliflower cooking expression.

"Maybe he just doesn’t like you,
Eldren."

"Nor I him. Nevertheless, I read the truth
in his mind."

Kayseri threw the elf as murderous a look as
Kree had ever seen. Whatever the elf was doing, she did not like
it.

"How dare you violate him?"

"His mind is a maelstrom! I cannot help
hearing the roar. The roar mostly concerns you. He alternates
between sexual fantasies and self-loathing brought on by those
fantasies. He holds that insanity is preferable to you."

Kayseri pressed her hands to her ears. It
was all the incentive Kree needed. A gentle pressure of his knees
sent Sirocco crashing into Eldren’s horse. The elf's poor gelding
reared in terror, dumping the elf prince on his velvet-clad
butt.

"Your pardon, prince. This beast gets the
bit in his teeth sometimes." Making a great show of getting his
stallion under control, Kree leaned over and offered Eldren a
helping hand.

The elf rose with the fluid grace of his
kind, pointedly ignoring the captain’s outstretched hand. He dusted
off his tunic and hauled himself back into the saddle. Kree
schooled his face into a study of compassion. Inside he
cheered.

They continued to follow the alley to the
end of the block, and then took a left into another alley. This one
took them into what had been Tarburg’s carriage district. From
there, they had a clear view of the livery. Shortly, the stableman
came out of the barn leading a sorrel horse and whistling an
off-key tune. Glancing around to make sure he was alone, the man
mounted and rode off still whistling his flat little ditty.

"It appears you may have been right," Eldren
said.

Kree watched the stableman’s slowly
diminishing form, not sparing the elf a glance, and whispered,
"There’s a surprise."

"See here. If I can be magnanimous enough to
admit when I am in error, you could at least be gracious enough to
accept my apology."

Kree stared the elf full in the eyes, his
expression tight-lipped and anything but gracious. A muscle ticked
in his jaw. Tense moments passed in which neither elf nor man broke
eye contact.

"My Captain, shouldn’t we follow?" Kayseri's
gentle touch on his hand broke the silent challenge.

His eyes slid to hers. "I want him to have a
good lead. Besides, we need some of his sweet feed and oats. I
don’t intend to see the horses broken down. Ten minutes later, they
left the livery with feed for their horses and a few meager
supplies for themselves. They trailed the stableman easily
northward toward the mountains.

In the more open county, Kayseri urged her
horse alongside Kree’s mount. He glanced at her quickly and gave
her a nod. "Was the elf pulling some kind of magic on you back
there?"

"No."

He glanced at her again. "Then what was
going on between the two of you?"

Kayseri dropped her gaze to her hands. "Do I
have to tell you?"

"Does it concern the princess?" His voice
sounded cold to his own ears. Her eyes widened just a little, she
glance away.
Damnation! Here comes a lie.

Kree's gaze slid to her and held, waiting
for her to look at him. "Unless it affects my ability to do my job,
you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to."

"I don’t want to."

Her refusal to confide in him sent Kree into
silent fury. He should have let her spin a lie for him at least
that justified anger, now all he had was raging jealousy.

Kayseri was the first to break the angry
silence.

"You don’t like Prince Eldren, do you?"

He turned his head and shot her a cold look.
"Don’t have to."

No one would need to tell Kayseri curt
answers were a danger sign. Anyone who knew him knew it. His temper
was barely tamped and liable to explode any second. Further
conversation with him on this or any other subject was
unwelcome.

Disregarding the warning signs, Kayseri
pushed on. "Why not?"

In spite of his bad throat, or maybe because
of it, Kree excelled at mimicry. He affected Eldren’s haughty sharp
accent. "He is a prince of Thallasi. Do I need another reason?"

The censure under his mocking tone shocked
her, and she recalled Eldren’s words.
The man hates our
race
. "So is my father."

Kree’s language changed, became that of the
coarsest foot-solider. "Horse shit!" His eyes, fierce as twin jade
dragons, met hers, but his voice was breathy, soft, almost gentle.
"Your father is a man, little girl, a round-ear just like me.
Thallasi had no use for him when he needed them, and if they claim
him now, it’s because they covet his glory not because he is a
quarter-elf. Heaven knows they haven’t had any glory of their own
in the last several millennia."

He jerked his head in Eldren’s direction.
"He thinks because elves live for thousands of years it somehow
makes them superior to mere humans. But I don’t see it. I am only
four and thirty, and I’ve done more to affect the world I live in
than most elves ever do. Look at him. His big mission in life is to
deliver a little girl into a marriage she probably doesn’t want, to
a male she has never met, and he can’t even do that without my
help. By Namar’s sweet breath, little girl, I’ve never met one of
the pointy-eared snobs I’d give you two copper ladies for and that
is a solid fact."

While he joined Chana to inspect the trail
ahead, Kayseri adjusted the dark curls concealing her own pointy
ears. "Why is My Captain bothering to help him?"

Kree straightened slowly, turned, and looked
at her. "Now, you didn’t give me much choice about that did you?"
His temper sparked again. He wiped his hand on his britches and
expelled a long breath. "Because children are children, and no one
has the right to hurt a child. Not on my watch. Not in my
territory. And because it’s politically expedient." He swung back
into the saddle.

"You’re looking a little wrung out." Kree
ran the knuckles of his right hand along the curve of her cheek.
His touch was so tender she almost burst into tears. "Hold on just
a little while longer, and then you can take a bubble bath and
sleep for a week."