People spoke in low tones around her. Semras recognized the voices of Sir Ulrech and Inquisitor Velten, their conversation far stronger than the rest as they rode ahead of the company.
Eyes barely cracked open, she peered through her lashes at the Venator knight riding next to them, her vision half shielded by Velten’s arm. Details were blurry, but she could tell movements apart at least.
“This armed escort is excessive,” the inquisitor muttered. “They are slowing us down.”
Sir Ulrech shrugged, eyes fixed on the path meandering through the trees ahead. She risked a half-lidded glance at it. Frequent journeys had sunk the trail into the soil and stamped out any crawling plants trying to overtake it.
“You do not share my opinion?” Velten asked.
“What I think does not matter, my lord,” the knight replied. “You already made your complaint about them known yesterday, and it did not make them disappear. Speaking further on the subject will not change that.”
The inquisitor snorted. “All the power of the Church in my hands, and I cannot rid myself of a few Venator Brothers,” hesaid, scoffing. “Just between you and me, old friend, don’t you just wish to leave them all behind too? I know you yearn to be back in Castereina as much as I do.”
Sir Ulrech’s gaze fell on Semras. She fully shut her eyes before he caught her listening in—again.
Velten continued, “Talk freely. She is asleep.”
“Is she, my lord?”
“Without a doubt. She would rip my throat open if she could see herself cuddling me. As I am still well and alive, I conclude she must not be conscious.”
Semras could almost hear the mocking smirk on his lips. He really thought that she was a wild beast, unable to show restraint.
“Besides, look at her,” Velten continued. “The poor witch is exhausted. She looked so pale earlier; I took pity and let her ride with me so she could get some rest … even if the wild creature will never show me any gratitude for my mercy.” He sounded amused.
The witch gritted her teeth. He found her distrust of him—a witch hunter—funny.
A saddle squeaked; Sir Ulrech must have shifted in his saddle. “She would do well to show you more respect,” he said.
“It is not respect I need from her. She may act as she pleases, as long as she does what I expect from her.”
“We do not know if she can be trusted, or if she will even prove to be useful at all. How did you even learn about her?”
The inquisitor gathered his words. “Do not be mad at me.”
“Velten,” Sir Ulrech growled lowly, “do not tell me you asked Nimue.”
Semras paled. It sounded like a witch’s name—not one she recognized, but she hadn’t yet met every member of Yore … Had she been betrayed by a coven sister? The possibility disquieted her.
“I said do not be mad.”
“She just gave birth!”
“Sheagreed. I kept watch over the little one while she worked, and all ended well. Do not get angry on her behalf, var Hesser. You know how touchy she gets when other people decide for her.” Velten ignored his knight’s disgruntled mumbling. “As for whether this witch of mine will be useful …”
Semras fought the outrage threatening to force her eyes open. Mine?Mine,he dared say?
“… I hope not.”
Oh great. That bastard had dragged her from her home only to wish now she’d be useless. At least he didn’t want her with him any more than she did. Whoever forced him to bring her along must have been of higher rank than the inquisitor. Maybe it was that cardinal he kept complaining about.
Semras lifted her eyelids just enough to get another peek of what was happening.
Shifting in his saddle again, Ulrech rested his hand over the pommel of his sword. “I ceased questioning your logic long ago, my lord. You must know better, as usual, but I will still keep my eyes on her.” His gaze fell on her once more. “If she gives us trouble, I will handle it. The sword-bearers are too excitable to be trusted around her.”
“There, finally! You agree they are a liability.” Velten readjusted his stance in the saddle, dragging her closer to him. His warmth enveloped her, putting a stop to her shivers. “Was that hard?”
The knight looked away. “I will … admit it was unwise of the cardinal to call on them for you. This sort of favouritism is bound to displease your … um, enemies.”
