To Bind in Blood

Chapter 14

Wrell woke to someone pounding on her chamber door. Her eyes still bleary from her nap, she stifled a groan and rolled out of bed, straightening her wrinkled clothes as she went to the door. She drew it open partway, half expecting the Great Lord on the other side even though he didn't feel close. Instead of Jurion's familiar face, she found Commander Odair's flushed and breathless visage.

Not a person she wanted to wake up to, however tolerable she found him.

"Draekon."

"Commander?" she said, noting his urgency. She had not seen him much lately, as she was usually busy with Jurion and there was little for the soldiers to do while the Great Lord was under the protection of the empress and her guards.

"Is today your day off? Have you seen the Great Lord?"

"He is in the library, I think."

"He is not there. A guard told me she escorted him down to the training grounds, and that is the last time he was seen. Our soldiers have been searching the palace but cannot find him. We were hoping you could."

Off for a day and they had already lost their Great Lord. She suppressed a sigh. "I will be out in a moment." She closed the door without waiting for a reply and grabbed a clean shirt and pulled on her boots, strapping on her belt with her long dagger as well. When she returned to the door, Odair was gone. She checked the corridor both ways and found it completely empty. He'd gone off to look for Jurion without waiting for her, then.

Her bloodbind acted as a sort of beacon for her to follow as she searched the grounds. Jurion was far enough away that she could not sense him, but she did have a vague, inexplicable idea of where to go. He was not at the training grounds, so she headed toward the private beach. He had been here, she suspected. Still, if the sand had been disturbed, she would not be able to tell, the waves sweeping up the shore washing away any evidence of the Great Lord's presence.

She crossed the beach while keeping close to the edge of the water, her boots sinking slightly into the firm sand. The sand ended with a shallow hill which she crested, the wall coming into view and the harbor and market beyond.

She was close. She could tell. He was not in any immediate danger, but he was upset. Something was eating at him. Scanning the market and the maze of stalls along the harbor, she searched for the Great Lord's familiar form or any sign of a spectacle. Enough people had seen him that day they arrived in Sardin for him to be recognized if he went out in public, but from what she could tell, nothing out of the ordinary was happening here. People garbed in colorful clothing clogged the aisles, moving from stall to stall, the vendors calling out unbeatable prices of their wares. The sounds of the port filled the background. She spotted several Viannic soldiers and was comforted by their obligation to protect the empress's guest and husband-to-be, their future emperor-consort. If Jurion ran into any trouble, at least he would have the assistance of the soldiers, provided they knew him.

She wandered the rows of stalls, ignoring the calls of the sellers and their subsequent silence when they saw her face. Surely her features were not so uncommon in this flood of diverse people. But it appeared that the old superstitions and tales continued to live on in some people's minds, and her scars would never truly be overlooked. She pondered if wearing a headscarf would mediate some of the hostility she was experiencing right now.

She tried to expand her senses, let them guide her to where the Great Lord was. The crush of people around her and the noise and general chaos of the market were distracting though, leaving her a bit disoriented. She chastised herself for her incompetence and spun in a slow circle amid the moving crowd, the taller people blocking her view. There were so many people, all dressed in different kinds and colors of clothing and sporting different features that, while no doubt distinct, seemed to meld together into a blur.