Heart of Leoth: [HAITUS]

Part IX ~ Fara

"Out. All of you out!!" Valdr roared.

The Lords pushed their seats back from the large table and fled from the room. She'd taken a step when he called her back. "You will remain, sister."

Dacian shot her a look, hesitating until she gave him a small nod. His shoulders sank as he trudged toward the door, throwing a last look over his shoulder as the doors closed behind him. Ravol remained in his spot behind Valdr, and she moved forward so that she was in Valdr's sight, coming to stand beside Dacian's empty seat.

"Sit down," he commanded quietly.

She obeyed, slipping soundlessly into the seat as Valdr studied her. His face was unsettlingly calm but she could feel the rage trembling beneath the surface. His leg bounced beneath the table, and his hand was curled into a tight fist.

It was not possible he knew of Dacian's proposal. Ravol, who also watched her intently, knew nothing either. Anything else she could answer to and defend. She took a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to settle her thundering pulse. It had waned certainly, but the Dresyth still swam in her blood, helping settle her a little.

"Tell me what you know of Theodan of Teredia's intentions in Azura," Valdr said.

She almost laughed. Nerves and relief making her head feel light. "How on ethis should I know?"

Valdr's gaze sharpened, rage flaring his nostrils.

"Gods, Valdr, how many times must I say it? I am no Leoth Spy. In your heart, you know that." She threw a pointed look at the male next to him. Ravol looked satisfied with himself, as he always did.

Valdr sat forward in his chair, studying her harder.

"You were in his possession," he spat the word, "for several moons and you knew nothing of what he planned? Just as you brought the Leoth here knowing nothing of his plan to execute Torrik?" He sounded as though he had never heard anything more absurd.

She stared back at him, defiant. "Then you imply what, exactly? That the Leoth commander and I planned this coup together?" This time she did laugh. A small empty thing. "You think I conspired with the Leoth who murdered my husband and claimed me as a spoil, to take Azura back from Zybar? Gods, it is preposterous, surely you see that. I knew nothing of Elyon's plans for Torrik, but I have already told you that I am glad that brute is dead. But if you think I have this much power over Leoth warriors and their commanders, then perhaps it is I who should be leading your armies in Panos' stead."

He appeared to see some reason in her argument, for his mouth softened, though doubt and suspicion still swam in his eyes. He stared at her a few beats more before pushing his seat back, rising, and pacing towards the large oval window that looked out over Prissia's inner courtyard. She flicked her gaze to Ravol, who glared at her with such fervent hatred she could taste it bitter and hot on her tongue.

The advisor gave her a look of intent before going to Valdr, leaning close to speak something into his ear. She strained to hear it, but they were too far and the crackle and snap of the fire behind her too loud. As Ravol stepped back, Valdr turned to look at her, contemplation swirling on his face. Some horrible knot of dread loosened and tightened in the pit of her stomach the longer he looked at her. Finally, deciding upon something he strode toward her, then past her to the doors of the solar.

"Come," he said over his shoulder.

Tentatively, she rose and followed, Lord Ravol falling into step behind her.

***

The guards stationed at the door kept their heads down, their upper bodies dipped into a short bow. It smelled of earth and damp, the walls slick and briny from the sea which thrashed behind its walls.