“Listen to me, you sorry excuse for a man,” Evander hissed. He was frightening when he shouted, terrifying when he whispered. “These people want to see you dead for what you did to Lysander. And you deserve it, you piece of skat, but I will protect you from them as long as you keep your mouth shut about me and Valenna and keep your head down. One word to the king, or one more scene like this, and I’ll let them have their way with you, and you know that it’s customary in Cobblepine to feed wrongdoers to the dragons.”
Haldir stared at Evander, trying to challenge him, but Evander was not intimidated, and he did not quail.
“I could have you hanged,” Haldir sneered. “I could have you tied to a post and whipped until you’re …”
Evander shoved the shotfire at Samara. “Here. Aim for his chest. You can’t miss.”
“ALRIGHT!” Haldir roared. “Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
Evander jerked his head toward the door. “Wise. Get out of my sight.”
Haldir stomped out of the tavern, leaving the door open behind him. Evander stood a moment in the empty room, and as his anger drained, weariness took its place. He almost resented this second life Valenna had bought for him. He just wanted to lay his head on her knees while she stroked his hair. He just wanted to sleep knowing she was safe.
Samara, still sitting on the floor, sniffled, and Evander looked down at her.
Samara shook her head, her upper lip curling with disgust. “How could you? How could you defend that murderer?”
Wrestling to hold back the geyser boiling inside him, Evander strode out of the tavern.
He didn’t have an answer for Samara. He only cared about Valenna. He only cared about their future. So why was he taking risks to keep this horde of idiots alive? What did he care if they were lined up against the wall and shot?
This was not how Evander lived his life. He didn’t get involved in other people’s troubles; he didn’t save people from their own stupidity.
Had being with Valenna pulled him out of his thicket of self-protection and not just softened him toward her but toward everything and everyone?
Evander staggered along the boardwalk to a dock that ended on an open expanse of marsh. Crowds of tall grass stood out of the water, and a lilac-plumed bird, as tall as a man, stalked in the blue shallows, balancing on one yellow leg. A little water dragon chased a school of fish into Evander’s shadow.
“Trevelyan!” Samara called, running after him.
It wasn’t dark yet, but the sky’s last blush before sunset. The water rippled in surreal pastels.
Samara clattered up to him. Before she could speak, Evander whirled on her.
“Do you realize what would have happened if I didn’t come to your rescue tonight?”
“I didn’t ask you to come rescue me,” Samara panted. “I had everything controlled.”
“Controlled?” Evander cried. “CONTROLLED? You were about to kill a Sennalaithic officer! If I hadn’t stopped you, you would be facing execution!”
“He murdered Lysander!”
“And you nearly got your entire crew killed, which makes you as bad as Haldir!”
Samara stumbled back. “What I did is not the same.”
“No,” he said darkly, “it’s worse.”
Samara covered her face with her hands, and Evander noticed her knuckles were scuffed and bleeding.
“If you hate someone long enough, you turn into them, Samara. It’s a terrible law of the universe. Haldir is loathsome, but he’s not worth dying for. Hell, I’m not certain you’re worth it either, but here I am!”
“Yes, Captain,” Samara said, lifting her head. “Why are you here? Why don’t you just run away? Isn’t that what you usually do, run away?”
All Evander’s disappointment and grief and rage crashed against him like a rogue wave.
“I DON’T KNOW WHY!” he shouted, running his left hand through his hair—he couldn’t lift his right arm; he couldn’t remember why. “But I do know that my wife did not save my life so that I could be murdered in a bar brawl!” He turned toward Samara, his hand extended in desperate frustration. “I’m supposed to go to battle, the one thing I swore I would never do again, because I can’t get my wife out of this, and I’ll be lucky if I survive to even attempt the invasion because of you!”
“And do you think we want to be stuck with you?” Samara yelled, marching toward Evander, her cheeks burning scarlet. “Do you think I want to be following a captain who hates me and a crew that doesn’t know a shotfire from a rolling pin? You should have a scrap, a scrap of compassion for me. I lost my childhood!”
