I shook my head, eyes closed, relishing the feel of Alric’s arm around me, his rough right hand squeezing mine, loving the feel of the summer sun on my skin. “I don’t care, Cian. I have never had a deity respond to me. Any penchant at all is a blessing.”
“Do you not rake your fields?” Alric was now interrogating the two farmers.
Before they responded, Cian said, “I knew they had a field that needed overturning and raking. Edie’s blood and prayer has yielded nothing with crops, herbs, livestock, no plant, no flower. Stone magic was a last resort.”
“So you knew?” Alric’s voice was a half shout.
I dared not look up at him or I worried my expression would betray my happiness at his protective indignation. Truly drained, I brazenly put my cheek on his shoulder.
He drew me closer as he went on. “You knew there was nothing but rocks, most of them loose, you knew they would respond to her and her blood and you let her—”
“Be careful to whom you speak!” Cian’s voice was thunderous.
The fact that he was third in line to the throne went unsaid.
Alric fell silent. But then he said, “I serve the goddess, not her conduit. You put Edith in danger and I will not forgive it. I am not disrespectful, priest. I am forthright.”
Cian crossed his arms, looking away from Alric and tried to make eye contact with me. “Edie, please do not hold this against me. I thought it best that you prayed without knowing about the rocks. I only meant to—”
I waved him away. “I am happy to know that I am her child, Cian.”
“How bad is your cut?” he asked, stepping closer to me.
Alric drew me even closer to him. “You can have my wife back tomorrow, Cian. We leave for the keep now. Also, you will grant her the ninth day of next week to be free. She will have two full days of rest. She has been overworked in this quest of yours.”
Before Cian or the farmers could say another word, he led me back down the path to the road where Maggie and Cian’s horse were tied to a fence.
“I am sorry,” I said, still leaning into him, feeling light on my feet as well as exhausted, like I had inhaled an entire pipe of lightleaf. “I know you are devout and now you are at odds with your archpriest.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “I cannot believe he did that.”
When we reached the mare, I asked, “May I ride behind?” I placed a steadying hand on Maggie’s neck. “I may fall asleep and it will be easier to sleep against your back.”
He put his arms around my waist and at first I was unsure what he did, but he undid my belt and sagaris, strapping them to the back of her saddle. He mounted her and then reached down for me to step up behind him. He tapped his heels and we were back out on the road.
I drew him close to me, my hands linked around his waist, my cheek on his shoulder, breathing in his clean scent. He used a plain soap with little fragrance. I thought it was the most intoxicating smell. “I am sorry I was short with you. In bed,” I said.
“You are nearly never short with me,” he replied. “In truth, you are almost always perfectly mannered. It is only fair you are entitled to moments of imperfection.”
I smiled into his back, my mouth against his tunic. I was drunk on magic, satisfaction, exhaustion and the least bit of lust. I was bold today. “Are you angry with me for spending my coin on the lavender oil?”
“No, Edith. I am angry with you for not asking me for help. I am angry at myself for not— I am angry at myself for not conveying to you that you could ask.”
I wanted to open my mouth and lick him through the cloth. I wanted to bite the sunned skin on the back of his neck.
“You have already spent so much on us,” I murmured, purposely turning my mouth away from his skin, my face turned towards the fields that passed us. I did not trust my treasonous lips not to start kissing his spine.
“That is my duty. We are married. Did your first husband not take care of you?”
“This is a beautiful day. Don’t ruin it with talk of Thrush.”
“Was that his name?”
“His last name. I will not speak his first ever again.”
There was a lull in our speaking, the birdsong at a fever pitch, pretty but plaintive.
Alric finally spoke. “I ask you again, was he cruel to you?”
