Her lips smiled, but it did not show in her unfocused eyes. “It's nothing. You must keep up your strength.”
The girl entered, now dressed in a simple white tunic, and came over to kneel beside them. Balaam looked away as Dorcas slit the girl's wrist with a fingernail.
She held the arm up to him. “Here.”
The blood ran down Anora's arm, more intoxicating than the finest wine, and all his fatigue and angst departed on a roiling red tide of euphoria. Instead of drinking directly from the vein, he leaned over and inhaled. Thin ribbons of energy rose from the blood, which turned black and formed a crust around the edges as the girl's essence flowed into him. They hadn't been forced to feed this way in the Shadowlands. There, surrounded by the Shadow's power, they had been constantly sustained. He'd hoped things would go back to the old ways when the Master scorched the sky, but that hope proved short-lived as the sun's wrath continued to plague them even in the gray gloom. And so they were forced to depend on livestock, human and animal, to exist.
Balaam sat back as feelings of satisfaction and shame dueled inside him. He remained in that state for a short eternity, riding the ecstasy of the blood. When he roused, the servant girl was leaning against his wife's shoulder. Dorcas watched them both with naked arousal, but she pushed the girl to her feet. “Well,” she said as the servant stumbled out of the room. “Did you find her?”
Balaam frowned, guarding his thoughts. “I found the place where she died. She had…” He cleared his throat. Why was this so difficult for him to talk about? “She had already crossed over.”
“How was the news received?”
Balaam tapped on the arm of the chair.
Dorcas inched forward, not quite touching his knee. “But the Master could not blame you for her fate. Balaam! You were nowhere near when it happened. The Master must know-”
“I do not need you to tell me what the Master must know.”
She moved back, just a handspan, but it was enough. “No. You never had a problem knowing his mind.”
“How long are you back for?” she asked.
“I must leave tonight. Soon. I just came to see you.”
“Here I am. The same as you left me.”
He winced inwardly, but kept his face still. “I have new orders.”
She called a shadow to her hand. “Another mission. Of course.”
“Dorcas, I…”
Perhaps she sensed it in his voice, because she looked at him. Really looked at him, her reddened eyes searching his face. He couldn't recall the last time she'd done that.
“What's wrong, Balaam? Did something happen?”
He looked to the flames in the fireplace. How to tell her about the antipathy he'd been suffering of late, the disloyal thoughts? They must be plain on his face. He turned, but she was gone.
He stood up. Part of him wanted to stay, but he could not. He might have failed as a husband, but he still had his duty.
He opened a portal and departed, jumping far to the south in search of a shadow.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Josey rubbed her temples as the tirades flew back and forth across the long plank table.
“Absolutely not! I would rather die and have my ashes scattered over a charnel pit!”
“That can be arranged!”
“Cur! Progeny of mongrels! I would cut out-”
Count Sarrow and Lord Therbold had been saying much the same for the last three days, until Josey stopped trying to quell the argument and let it play out in the hopes the two men would exhaust themselves. That didn't seem likely any time soon. Still, the past couple days hadn't been a complete waste of her time. She had gotten some much needed rest-in a real bed! — and the food was better than what was served in camp. The decor was more rustic than she was used to, with lots of natural wood and cast-iron accents, but charming nonetheless. And she had learned that the troubles between Therbold and Sarrow were deep and far-reaching. In fact, their grandfathers had started the feud more than fifty years ago. She had also discovered why both were so intent on possessing Hafsax. Water rights. The little hamlet controlled access to the river, which fed the most arable portions of both their lands, as well as being a vital trade route for the province. Whoever possessed Hafsax held the other in his power.
A sudden pressure pushed against her, and Josey lowered a hand to the swollen bump under her bellybutton. Was that a kick? She looked down.
She didn't realize the room had quieted until Hirsch cleared his throat. Sarrow and Therbold sat at opposite sides of the table, each surrounded by their advisors. She was situated at the center, with Hirsch at her left hand and Captain Drathan at her right. Brian sat beside his father, but hadn't said much so far. Everyone was watching her.
“Majesty,” Hirsch said. “Are you unwell?”
She shifted in the wooden chair, which had no cushion or padding. “Not at all. Forgive me, my lords. You were saying?”
“I was saying,” Count Sarrow said, looking down at his rival, “what a bloated, foul-tongued-”
Hirsch cut him off. “We were asking if you would like a recess from these proceedings, Majesty. For tempers to cool.”
“A good idea, Master Adept.” Josey stood up, and everyone at the table rose with her. “My lords. We shall reconvene after the noon meal.”
She took Hirsch's arm and allowed him to escort her away from the table. Both Sarrow and Therbold looked like they had more to say, but both were too disciplined to do it in front of her.
Hirsch led her out of the hall into a side chamber where benches and chairs rested against the walls. Iron braziers filled with hot coals were positioned around the room, offering some relief from the castle's chill. Hirsch indicated a cushioned seat, but Josey declined. She was tired of sitting.
Captain Drathan entered after them. “Majesty, Lord General Argentus reports he has found a fording approximately twelve leagues east of the old bridge's position. He asks if he should begin the crossing.”
Josey's heart leapt at the news, but then she considered the situation here. She couldn't leave these nobles at each other's throats. How long would it take to bring them around to a peace pact? She sighed. The way things were going, it could be a long time. “Not yet, Captain. Tell Argentus to make the needed preparations, but not to move the army until I've finished here.”
Josey looked to the doorway as the captain left. Brian stood beyond the shoulders of her bodyguards as if waiting for her. He hadn't spoken much at the meetings these past couple days, nor at the feast his father held in her honor.
“Sir,” she said. “Was there something you wanted?”
Her guards moved aside, but Brian stopped at the threshold as if unwilling to disturb her privacy. “Highn-Um, Majesty. I just wanted to compliment you on your handling of the negotiations.”
Hirsch smirked at Josey. “You think so, lad?”
“No one has drawn weapons,” Brian said. “That's what ended our last discussion.”
Josey put a hand to her mouth to hold back a laugh. “I suppose that is an improvement. Perhaps we have some hope.”
“I've been trying to get my father to forget this old feud for a long time, but as you have seen he can be quite…”
“Formidable,” she finished for him.
“I was going to say pig-headed. Majesty, I was wondering…seeing as we have time before the talks resume, would you like to see more of our lands?” He looked to Hirsch. “Of course, your men are welcome to accompany
