Page 59 of The Half King
“Certainly,” Kian agreed, though he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his eyes. He peered around the camp as if searching for a new topic of discussion. He found it when his gaze landed on the nearly lifeless face of Father Padron. “Gods alive,” he breathed. “What did you do to my high priest?”
Cerise didn’t say so, but it was more a matter of what Father Padron had done to himself. Last night after his fall, she’d noticed blood soaking through the back of his robe, much like several days ago, when he had shown her the catacombs. So she had removed his robe to see what was the matter. She hadn’t been prepared for the mutilation she’d found. From the look of the gashes on his back, he had used a cattail lash, and not for the first time. His back was woven in scars, some of them fresh and pink, others old and white, and far below them, the silvery ghosts of another decade. There were so many layers of injury stacked on top of one another that no healthy skin remained. What he had done wasn’t overzealous atonement. It was self-loathing. He had been punishing himself savagely for at least half his life.
Cerise would give nearly anything to know why.
“He dispatched a pack of titan hyenas,” she said, keeping Father Padron’s secret to herself, at least for now. She owed him her life, and she felt obliged to protect him in return. “That’s more than twenty priests could do.”
Kian grunted in disagreement. “It’s nothing for him. You don’t know the man like I do. When I was still in clods, my father sent Padron to put down an uprising in Solon. They say he stopped the hearts of fifty men before he broke a sweat. And he was practically a boy then. He’s grown more skilled with time. Killing a pack of hyenas shouldn’t have fazed him.”
“War stories,” she dismissed. “I don’t care what anyone says. A priest has to rest after dispatching death.”
“I wonder if he’s ill.” Kian pushed back his hair, which was long again, as the transformation had worn off and restored his true appearance. “Come to think of it, he looked a bit rough when I saw him yesterday. It was only for a moment, right before sunset, but his face seemed waxy, like he’d eaten a tray of spoiled oysters for lunch.”
Or like he had brutally whipped himself?Cerise thought.
On the other side of the camp, Nero stirred and pushed onto one elbow, looking rather pale and weak as well. Cerise still hadn’t forgiven Nero for cutting Blue’s sling, so she scowled at him and glanced away.
“If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness,” she said and gathered Blue in her arms. Her pup was heavier by at least two stones, which made sense, considering he was half titan. Luckily, Blue had inherited Stella’s good nature and not that of his sire. But the titan half of Blue would require more food to eat. “We’re going in search of a suitable bathroom. And if we’re lucky, breakfast.”
“And I should find my clothes.”
“Everything is in the wagon,” she said, pointing. “Though I must say that shawl looks lovely with your complexion.”
“Mmm,” he agreed, extending an ankle. “Makes my legs look fetching, too.”
“Better put on some pants before the horses swoon.”
She left Kian with a smile, which was her favorite way to go, and then she walked along the trail until she found a secluded spot to freshen up. She set down Blue, keeping watch over him as she used the water from her flagon to wash her chest and arms. While her blouse was unbuttoned, she caught sight of her pendant and stopped to take a closer look at it. The metal had changed. It was twisted and mangled, as if a team of oxen had trampled it. Maybe each act of protection weakened the metal. That would explain why it was dented when she had received it. She wondered how many uses it had left.
Footsteps sounded from nearby, and she quickly buttoned her shirt as Daerick and Nero strode into view. Daerick still hadn’t let go of his knife, and Nero was so exhausted from the walk that by the time he reached her, he had to stop and brace both hands on his knees. Casting the shield must have drained him more than she’d realized.
But Nero had enough strength to complain. He jerked a thumb toward camp and hissed, “I didn’t agree to this. Tohim. Gods be damned, you brought the high priest of Shiera to my door!”
“You didn’t seem to mind when he saved us,” Cerise pointed out.
“I could have handled it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course. Because we were doing so well on our own.”
“None of this would have happened if you had just let the mongrel go!”
At that, Blue growled.
“Shhh. Guard your words,” Daerick reminded them. “Let’s focus on what’s important.” He nodded at Nero. “By the time Father Padron rode to the rescue, you had already dropped the shield. He has no reason to believe you’re anything except an ordinary mountain guide.”
“What about the curtain?” Nero asked. “He’ll sense the energy when he wakes up. He might have sensed it last night.”
“We’ll tell him it was a gift, blessed by priests to protect you,” Daerick said. “They do that sort of thing all the time.” He shifted his gaze to Cerise, splaying both hands in confusion. “Andyou. I saw that monster use your throat like a chew toy, and there’s not a scratch on you. Want to share your secret with the rest of us?”
Cerise touched the pendant below her blouse. She wished Nina hadn’t sworn her to secrecy. “The goddess works in mysterious ways,” she said again, and then she closed the subject by turning her attention to Nero. “Are you strong enough to reopen the spring? We have three times as many horses now.”
“Yes.” Nero frowned. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” she repeated. “That would have been nice to knowbeforeI used my water to wash.”
“Either way, I won’t use my energy around the high priest.” Nero shifted nervously and glanced higher up the mountain. “There’s another spring close by. I’ll ride ahead and open it and pretend I found it that way.” His stomach grumbled loudly. “And check my traps, too.”
“Anything but jackrabbit, please.”
