Page 28 of The Boy Bride

“Scared to death, the poor thing,” said Gurti reprovingly.

Vanu looked at Mikhi. “I will go look.”

“What are we doing?” she asked as she followed him back toward his house. The others were trailing behind. “I didn’t understand a lot of that.”

“We’re going to look for my bride.”

“The bride hunt! I’ve always wanted to do that. I can help, can’t I?”

“Of course.”

He was enjoying himself, enjoying the absurdity of it, Khatu’s antics amusing as usual, Faru’s discomfort always satisfying. And the lowland boy was not dead after all.

“Hey, Padunu,” Barda was saying, “you’re the expert—does it still count as the bride hunt if it’s in the groom’s house?”

“I will not dignify that with an answer!” The shaman could never pass up an opportunity to talk, so he immediately contradicted himself by saying, “The very premise of the sacred tradition of the bride hunt dictates … ”

They had reached Vanu’s door. He turned to the following crowd of Gukhártus and signed, “Wait. Here.”

He thought they probably all understood that well enough without translation, but Mikhi repeated it anyway in her best battlefield roar, and that was highly satisfying. He went into the house with her, grinning.

“Where did they put him?” she asked.

“Through my front window.” He looked up the stairs toward his bedchamber.

“Did you not notice him?” Mikhi gave him an incredulous look.

Vanu made a face. “I don’t think I am that far gone yet.”

He jogged up the stairs and opened the door to his bedchamber. The room certainly looked as empty as it had when he’d come to put away the blankets. There was no way the boy was in here—was there?

Vanu was a warrior, accustomed to depending on the keenness of his senses. And though it had been three years since he’d needed to defend himself, his senses had always been keen—surely he hadn’t decayed so much that he wouldn’t notice someone in the same room? Unless that person was very well hidden.

He noticed again that the dagger belonging to the leader of the Order of Sworn Defenders of the Divine King—a stupid name that was supposed to be a great secret—was missing from its nail on the wall. But that had been gone earlier, and he’d meant to ask Mikhi if she had it. She used it sometimes for target practice; it was a beautifully made knife, just the right size and weight for her.

Almost as light, in fact, as those little knives the lowland boy had been carrying when he fell off the wall.

If he had been in here, and had taken that dagger, where had he gone after? Vanu scanned the room carefully. There was nowhere for a full-grown man to hide in here, no long hangings or alcoves or large pieces of furniture, just the bed on the floor, the chest full of blankets, a couple of baskets, and the cupboard. The cupboard? Vanu looked at the lower doors built into the wall. The boy was small, but could he actually have folded himself up inside there?

He approached with an odd stirring of … something—not unease, more like excitement. He slid one of the doors open with his foot. It was empty except for a moth-eaten cushion wedged right into the back, exactly as it would have been if something else had recently been taking up all the rest of the space.

So he’d been thrown through the window, stolen a knife—maybe—and hidden in a cupboard. Then he’d gone—where? Vanu had left the house. The boy could be anywhere in the compound. Or he could have gone back out the window into the village. It all depended on what he was after.

Mikhi appeared in the doorway. “Did you find him?”

Vanu shook his head. “Where are Susami and Atari?”

“Dunno. Want me to find them?”

“No. Come with me.”

The stirring of excitement was gone. If the boy had taken either of his girls hostage … There was no reason to believe he’d have done that, but he’d had the opportunity, if he’d wanted it. Vanu didn’t know what he wanted.

Vanu descended the stairs at speed and strode out the back door of the house. Mikhi ran to keep up. Across the yard, Susami and Atari were both sitting in the shade on their balcony, Susami spinning, Atari reading from a scroll.

“Da?” Mikhi said aloud. “What’s the matter?”

“Probably nothing,” he signed back. He looked to see that she had her usual knife tucked into her sash. “Stay with your sisters for now.”