Then the captain is gone, earning salutes from the soldiers, and I’m left with Hugh, Sephran, and Leo.
“You will practice every day,” Hugh warns me in Syssalah. “Or Ammax will have my head.”
I believethat. I give him a nod. “I promise.”
Hugh glances at Sephran. “You are friends with this one?”
Friends.Maybe? I nod. “Yes.”
“Good.” He pats Sephran on the shoulder the same way he did to me. “Sephran is a good boy, too,” he says. “Always kind to his horses.”
Sephran is broad and muscled and easily stands six inches taller than Hugh—to say nothing of the fact that he’s currently wearing enough armor and weapons to walk into battle. The only thingboyishabout him is the handful of freckles across his cheeks—until he grins sheepishly, adding one more.
“Ah . . . ?good words?” he says in Emberish, looking to me.
It makes me blush again, and I’m not sure why. I smile and nod. “Good words.”
He inhales as if to speak, then hesitates, then holds up a finger to me. He looks at Hugh and says . . . ?a lot.
I pick out enough phrases to understand he has leave, then something about dinner, and then I lose track. But Hugh turns to me and says, “Sephran has been on patrol with his unit, but now he has leave. He and his friends are riding to the creek to catch dinner. He invites you to join them.”
My heart kicks again. I’m nodding before he’s even done speaking. “Yes,” I say, then repeat it in Emberish for Sephran. “Please.”
Sephran grins, then mimes shooting an arrow. “Bring your bow.”
When I arrive with Teddy, I expect the same small group from the evening we went shooting, but tonight there are more than a dozen men and women gathered in the courtyard. Most are soldiers, many still in armor, likely fresh off patrol like Sephran and Leo were. I remember Trapp and Fowler, and of course Kutter, but Sephran hasn’t appeared yet. On the opposite side of the courtyard, I recognize two of the soldierswho’ve hassled me in the forge, and they’re the same ones who were yelling taunts on the morning we arrived at Ironrose.
I don’t know their names, but I feel the sudden weight of their attention like they’ve each nocked an arrow aimed for my throat. One of them is short and sandy-haired, and he leans toward the other one to say something I can’t hear. The other man, a bit more swarthy with a shock of dark hair, holds my eyes and nods in response. I force myself not to flinch away from his stare.
But then one of the young women near me turns around, and to my surprise, it’s Molly, the serving girl from the Shield House. She’s holding the reins of a fat bay palfrey, and her eyes widen when she looks at me. She gives me a smile and a curtsy.
“Master Jax!” she says brightly.
She’s so happy and guileless that I can’t help smiling back. “Molly. No dinner?”
Before she can answer, the dark-haired soldier calls, “Molly, you can do better than that trash from over the mountain.”
Her smile turns into a scowl, and she kicks dirt in his direction. “Like you, Niall? I don’t think so.”
The others around us chuckle, while Niall glowers at us both. When Molly turns back, her eyes seem hopeful that I didn’t understand their exchange, but I did—and I’m sure my expression makes it clear.
She frowns. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “No sorry.Youare kind, Molly.”
That brings the bright smile back to her face. “You’ve learned so many words! I’m glad you’re coming. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Sephran . . . ah . . .” I freeze and immediately prove her wrong, because I don’t know the word forinvited. “Sephran say to come.” I frown, wondering if that’s right. “Yes?”
“Yes,” Sephran says from behind me. “I say to come.” He draws hishorse up alongside my own and looks across the courtyard. Leo is just behind him.
I follow his gaze. Niall is laughing with Trapp and Fowler now, but he casts another dark look our way, then leans toward them to mutter something. Those two weren’t unkind when we went shooting, but they weren’t friendly either. Whatever Niall says, Trapp doesn’t respond, but Fowler glances my way and chuckles. After a moment, Trapp smiles, too.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I saw how close-knit the soldiers were on the journey here. But an icy band encircles my chest. If Trapp and Fowler are friends with Niall, does that mean Sephran is his friend, too?
But Sephran’s gaze darkens, and he sighs. “Is Niall being a jackass?”
“Yes,” I say.
