Errant, p.36
Errant, page 36
At some point, Ambrem had retired. The hearth was still flickering. Aspen didn’t seem bothered by Charm’s brooding, nor did she seem impatient to lie down to sleep on the pallet that Ambrem had made near the fire. She’d stayed in her wooden chair, hard and uncomfortable as it was, arm’s length from where Charm was sitting.
“Maybe you should have just dropped me when we were on the bridge,” Charm said. Aspen didn’t laugh. “The people I talked to at the festival said we would have been spit right out at the entrance, only the arch would have vanished. Failing the trials would have been a lot quicker than completing them.”
“We didn’t know that at the time,” Aspen said. “Still, I guess it would have saved us some trouble.”
“A lot of trouble.”
“I didn’t fall in love with you on purpose,” Aspen said apologetically.
“And you think I fell in love with you on purpose?” Charm asked.
Aspen laughed. “Definitely not.”
“So… what now? We just never do anything about it and eventually you leave me to fight the Scale and then I wallow in despair?”
“I confess that was my plan until today,” Aspen said. “Not you wallowing in despair, though, just me. I didn’t intend for you to get hurt. I thought you’d find someone else.”
“And you didn’t notice me pointedly not fucking anyone else for two months in Ozhleh Zna?” Charm was already uncomfortably twisted in the horrible little wooden chair and there wasn’t room to throw her hands into the air without hitting Aspen, so instead she sat down heavily on the mattress and then dropped flat to her back. “Mists, but you’re shit at plans, Aspen.”
“I’ve always been better at tactics than strategy.”
Even staring up at the shadowed ceiling, Charm knew Aspen was smiling. “You’ve got that right. You should have fucked me in the second trial when we had the chance.”
“So I could feel worse later, knowing what I was missing?”
“Don’t you ever do anything just because it feels good in the moment?”
“That’s bad tactics and bad strategy.”
“You’re exhausting,” Charm said. “You know I’ve never fallen in love with anyone before and probably never will again? All I want is for you to kiss me on purpose, with no extenuating circumstances, just because you want to, one time before we set off and both get murdered in an ambush on the road.”
The chair scraped the stone floor as Aspen went to her knees. “You know I’ll do my best to keep you safe.”
Charm levered herself up to glare. “What’s the point of being safe if you’re not kissing me?”
And then—Holy Esmuste, Queen of the Mists—Aspen was kissing her. One hand curved around her cheek to draw her close. The touch was warm, gentle but decisive, and it left Charm plenty of room to escape before Aspen’s lips met hers.
Charm didn’t want to go anywhere else. She gripped Aspen by her beautiful, thick arms and hauled her onto the mattress. It wasn’t possible to haul Aspen unless she allowed it, so Charm was thrilled when Aspen toppled her flat and deepened the kiss.
A lot of women had kissed Charm, but under Aspen’s weight, tasting the traces of spiced wine on her lips, she couldn’t remember any of them. Charm had never waited this long for anything in her life, so it suited her perfectly that Aspen was determined to take her time. Slow and powerfully deep, it was a kiss that could have turned stone to water, and Charm wasn’t made of anything like stone. She sighed happily and Aspen swallowed the sound.
Threading her fingers into Aspen’s short hair, Charm brought her hips up, reveling in the press of their bodies. Aspen answered the motion, grinding down, and then she dragged her lips along Charm’s neck. Her teeth grazed the skin. At the juncture with Charm’s shoulder, she sucked a fierce, bruising kiss.
Charm let out a shuddering breath. “Mists. I wish you were my wife.”
Aspen went still.
“A joke. I think. Kiss me again and I’ll figure it out.”
“I thought you didn’t want that,” Aspen said. “To be married. To me.”
Charm regretted ruining the moment, but there was nothing to be done except say, “It took me by surprise, that’s all. I never wanted to be married to anybody. Don’t tell me you did, not after your first marriage.”
Aspen rolled off her. The dying firelight lit her profile. “I didn’t, not really. But I wanted something that would last.”
“Well, let’s live through the next few weeks and then we’ll give something lasting a try,” Charm said.
“You… want that? With me?”
“Aspen,” Charm said, with a long-suffering sigh and a kiss to her temple. “I love you, but you are really, really dumb.”
Aspen and Charm bid a grateful farewell to Ambrem as the sunlight burned the haze from the morning air. Aspen had saddled the horses already, eager to be in their company again, and Ruby tossed her head as Mouse nosed at Aspen’s cloak. The scene felt familiar: leaving new acquaintances behind, continuing down the road to their next destination. Just like a half-hundred mornings before—and nothing like them.
Charm loved her. Charm wanted something lasting with her. If they could survive the coming confrontation with the Hanging Scale. Today, kneeling to help Charm mount Ruby, survival felt possible. Victory felt possible.
“It’s too early for you to be smiling this much,” Charm muttered. Drowsy, dressed in yesterday’s dusty trousers, with her hair in a slightly uneven braid, she was radiant. Aspen smiled more.
They took a different road out of Nauvis. The surrounding pine forest wasn’t much different, but Aspen found every slight curve a comfort. At this hour, the birds were still chattering. It smelled like last night’s rain and wet earth and sharp, clean sap. There wasn’t a flowered arch in sight.
“Tescui’s cousin definitely thinks we fucked, the way you were beaming,” Charm said.
“No,” Aspen said cheerfully. “It would have been louder if we’d done that.”
“Aspen Silverglade!”
Aspen laughed. “You think you’re the only one who can say shocking things?”
“You used to swallow your tongue every time I glanced at you,” Charm lamented. “I suppose it’s just as well. I can think of better things for you to do with your tongue.”
“We should probably change the subject. We have to ride until sundown.”
“Which is why it’s such a mystery that you won’t stop smiling,” Charm said, but she was smiling, too. “Did you lie awake last night and come up with a foolproof way to avenge your mentor and defeat the Scale and not get brutally slaughtered?”
“No,” Aspen said. “Today just feels different. It feels like I could—like we could. Someone told me I was shit at plans.”
“She sounds wise and also stunningly beautiful,” Charm said. “You should listen to her.”
“I’m trying,” Aspen said. “I hope she doesn’t mind that we’ll have to stay away from major roads and sleep in the woods for most of this journey.”
“She doesn’t, not if you’ll keep her warm at night.”
Aspen had been trying hard to direct their conversation away from that topic so she didn’t have to spend this entire ride consumed with lust. She ignored it and continued, “I also hope she doesn’t mind that we have to travel into Rispland to meet up with my friend Strength.”
Charm grimaced. “Rispland. We can’t even hold hands in public there. I don’t think it’s legal for women to wear trousers, either.”
“I’ve found that if you have a big enough sword, people don’t bother you,” Aspen said.
“Easy for you to say.”
“So what do you think of those first steps?” Aspen asked.
“Keeping off the main roads, asking for Strength’s help, and asking for my opinion? I think that’s an excellent start. It’s a long way from dropping me in a prison cell to protect me.”
“Yes, well,” Aspen paused, embarrassed. “I’ve recently realized we make a good team.”
“Not from yesterday’s absurdities, I hope,” Charm said. “We were a good team long before that.”
“You’re right, we were.” Aspen grinned at Charm, then lifted her face to the sun. She took a deep breath of forest air, let it out, and rode toward the future with hope.
V
BIRCH GOLDFOREST
1
The late spring rains weren’t enough to wash away the smell of piss in Ainbridge, and honestly if they had been, Charm would have hiked up her skirts and peed on the cobblestones herself. It was only right that this miserable city smell exactly as awful as it was.
Technically, Aspen had been breaking the law by wearing trousers since they’d crossed the border into Rispland, but until today, they’d been traveling through the woods. Here in the capital, people pointed or glared or averted their eyes, but the sword on her back kept anyone from trying to enforce the law where she was concerned.
Naturally, the sword was also illegal.
Holding Aspen’s hand would be illegal, too, and Charm was tempted to try it. It was only half contrariness—touching Aspen was what she wanted all the time, even now that she was permitted. Every night of their journey, they’d combined their bedrolls and slept tucked close to each other, and Charm still hadn’t had her fill.
Charm could admit to a contrary streak, though. She preferred dresses, and had changed into one as soon as they’d dismounted near Ainbridge’s southwestern gate, but knowing Rispland forbade women to wear trousers in public made her want to haul on a pair and parade through the streets.
Trousers would make it easier to keep up with Aspen’s pace. Charm grabbed handfuls of fabric to keep the hem of her skirt from dragging on the ground and picked her way through the crammed, uneven streets. She couldn’t blame Aspen for wanting to rush through. Charm hadn’t wanted to come here in the first place.
They were going to meet Aspen’s friend and former sister-in-arms Strength Dyer Lark. Aspen seemed to know where she was going—she’d mentioned working a few odd jobs in Rispland in years past, so the dark grey stone buildings and clogged street drains must be familiar—so Charm focused on not losing track of her among the hurried, oddly silent residents.
Not that it would have been possible. Aspen stood out, fierce and defiant. She didn’t even mean to make a statement. But even if she’d changed into a dull blue dress, as Charm had, and put away her sword and the myriad other weapons she carried, there was no disguising the power and threat in her stride.
Stooped, thin, elderly folks sweeping the steps paused to gape. Children wrestling in the streets stopped to whisper. Beggars shaking their dishes of coins went silent. There were a few louder comments, scoldings and insults, but the words were like badly aimed arrows. Aspen walked through them untouched.
As they passed into a different district, storehouses and alleys near the river docks, the remarks tapered off. The staring became less open and more furtive.
Charm couldn’t see the water of the Ain, only smell it, an earthier stink than the more crowded thoroughfares of Ainbridge. If they were on the roof of one of the city’s imposing stone structures, Charm would be able to see clear across to the wooded hills of Falland on the far side. Instead they were in this maze of looming, windowless buildings. There were no more cobblestones. The wet ground sucked at Charm’s slippers.
She gripped Ruby’s reins tighter and stuck close to Aspen. Charm was no stranger to thieves, being one herself, but she prided herself on the subtlety of picking pockets. Her victims never feared her because they never knew. Cornering someone in the shadows and taking their possessions at knifepoint was so vulgar.
They’d arrived in the afternoon and now evening was stretching the shadows longer. Among all these storehouses, there were quite a lot of dark little nooks to get attacked in. The few people that lingered here didn’t seem like they’d lend a hand.
Aspen wasn’t hurrying through this neighborhood. She’d relaxed.
“Here,” she said, pressing Mouse’s reins into Charm’s grip.
Both horses could hold their own in a fight, but being flanked by Mouse and Ruby set Charm further on edge. If Aspen wanted her hands free, she expected trouble.
Tempting the gods, Aspen turned them down an even more obscure path. Like all suspect alleyways, this one was damp and poorly lit, with empty crates and discarded produce scattered along the tall stone and timber walls. Some of the crates had been out here long enough for the wood to soften and rot through.
Charm wrinkled her nose and stepped over some shards of broken glass. “You take me to the nicest places,” she muttered.
Aspen laughed, light and easy, as if they weren’t in an unfriendly city in an unfriendly country, and in a dark alley to boot. “I didn’t choose the meeting spot.”
Charm tried to imagine what Strength might be like, based on her chosen dank alley.
Then a figure jumped out of the darkness and landed on Aspen’s back.
Charm didn’t understand until after it happened, so her scream came a beat too late to be useful. Aspen had already shaken off her attacker and drawn her sword. Charm backed against the stack of crates, heart in her throat, keeping the horses away from the fight. She hoped no one else was crouching up there ready to jump down.
Metal clanged as Aspen’s blade met the attacker’s. Charm could only see their back, but their build wasn’t too different from Aspen’s. Same height, a little thinner, wearing all black with a scarf wrapped around their head.
Unfortunately for Aspen, they seemed equally skilled with a sword.
Charm only knew theatrical swordplay, meant to make the audience gasp or cheer. This was faster and closer and involved a lot more stabbing motions. No dull, safe tips on the weapons, either.
It was hard to tell if anyone was winning.
Charm was reasonably certain Aspen hadn’t been stabbed yet. She would have made a noise, probably.
Last time Charm had found Aspen fighting someone in an alley and tried to help by throwing a rock, Aspen had been frustrated with her. Still, it was never a bad idea to have a rock in hand. From the smell of it, this alley was more likely to contain slimy old cabbage than anything that could crack a skull, but Charm examined the ground by her feet.
The scrape of metal on metal rang out. Aspen and her attacker were intertwined, the guards on their swords colliding.
The attacker tossed their sword to the ground.
Before Charm could blink, Aspen had done the same. Her precious sword, right down in the mud.
The attacker launched a kick at Aspen. Aspen dodged and returned an attack of her own, feet and fists flying. Her opponent whirled out of the way, then came back for more.
Aspen laughed.
Holy Esmuste. They weren’t really fighting. The attacker was Strength.
Or rather, they were really fighting, they just weren’t trying to hurt each other. The hand-to-hand combat went on for quite some time. With some study, Charm could see it: they didn’t pull their punches, but they never went for anything particularly painful or lethal, either. The Traveling Harstead Players didn’t choreograph fights this long. This one wasn’t telling any story except “these two very annoying women love to hit each other.”
“You could have told me it was for fun,” Charm called.
Neither of them answered her.
“Can you believe this?” Charm asked Mouse and Ruby. The horses kept their own counsel.
Aspen knocked Strength to the ground and pulled the scarf from her face, which renewed Charm’s interest in the fight. Were all Aspen’s former Hanging Scale compatriots unfairly fucking gorgeous?
No, all the bad ones had been normal-looking. Aspen just had really good taste in friends.
Strength’s complexion wasn’t quite as pale as Aspen’s, but it was lighter and more golden than Charm’s brown skin. Her straight black hair was cut short, angled toward her chin. If her mouth looked that good twisted in a snarl, she was probably knee-weakening when she smiled.
She was tall, too, and strong enough to hold her own against Aspen in a fight.
Charm hoped Strength was just a friend. Aspen’s “friend” Ayzeh had turned out to be a former bedmate. Charm was confident in her ability to compete with almost anyone, but if Aspen wanted a lover who’d duel her and throw punches and roll around in the dirt, Charm would have to step aside.
At least she’d gotten in a few kisses and caresses while she could. And to witness this fight—even through the haze of jealousy, it was hot. Aspen and Strength were both so clearly enjoying themselves. And they both had incredible thighs.
Aspen flipped Strength onto her back and straddled her, planting a palm on her sternum. “I know you’ll never yield, but at this point it’s rude not to introduce you to my… Charm.”
Strength lifted her head. “Hi.”
“Is this how you greet all your friends?” Charm asked.
“Only the ones who don’t write,” Strength said. She shoved at Aspen. “Get off me, I’ll show you my place.”
Brushing themselves off did nothing. They were both covered in mud. Strength hugged Aspen, inclined her head politely to Charm, and then led them out of the alley. Aspen was sweaty and filthy and grinning bright as noon.
2
Strength was clearly trying to confuse anyone who might be watching their progress through the neighborhood. Aspen kept the river in mind as a landmark, so even in the labyrinth of alleys and indistinct buildings, she could tell they were going in circles.
The dread and despair wasn’t quite as thick in the air here as it had been in the city center. Aspen didn’t mind the surveillance from smugglers and river pirates and other, worse types nearly as much as she minded the law. Criminals didn’t care how she dressed or wore her hair.
The people in charge in Ainbridge, the ones who collected taxes from the poor and gave nothing back, they ought to be considered criminals, too. That kind of theft was legal. Harstead had its share of poverty and corruption, but nothing to this degree.
