Page 45 of Swordheart
Though he was once, wasn’t he?
She didn’t want to think about that.She was strong,Sarkis had said. The admiration in his voice had been obvious.
He certainly could have no admiration for a woman who had been foolish enough to fall into such an obvious trap, and who had sobbed on his shoulder like a child. But apparently he was stuck with her so long as she wielded the sword.Whether he likes me or hates me, admires me or despises me.
She did not want him to despise her.
How could he not? You’re a decadent southerner. Hell, even by decadent southern standards, you’re pitiful. You can barely climb over awall on your own. You were held prisoner by an old woman armed with embroidery hooks. He’d have been well away already, most likely, if he wasn’t stuck with you.
No, that was unfair. Sarkis was clearly a decent man, and he wouldn’t leave someone so obviously helpless wandering around in the woods by herself.
This was, if possible, an even less comforting thought.
After this is all over, after I’ve got enough money to set up my nieces—if I can get enough to set up my nieces—I’ll hand him the sword and tell him he’s free to go find a better wielder. That would be the best thing I could do.
“Can I help you?” said the innkeeper, turning to her.
“Two rooms for the night,” said Halla.
“One,” said Sarkis.
The innkeeper looked from one to the other. “Which?”
Oh…oh, of course. I can just sheathe the sword, he doesn’t need a room. It’ll save money.
Halla knew that she was blushing. “One,” she said.
“You sure?” The innkeeper’s eyes lingered on hers and she was glad that she had washed the tears off them.
“I will sleep in the stable, if you have one,” said Sarkis. “I do not require a room.”
“Ah.” The innkeeper nodded, apparently relieved. “Good to hear, for I’ve only one room free in any event.”
He took Halla’s money and nodded her upstairs. “Last on the left.”
She went to the stairs. Sarkis followed. “I will bring up your bags, my lady,” he said, loudly enough for the innkeeper to hear.
“Thank you,” said Halla.
They went to the room. It was a narrow strip of bed and a narrower strip of floor beside it. There was a chair and a basin wedged in so tightly that using either one would require a great deal of planning. The mattress sagged.
Halla collapsed onto it and made a distinctly unladylike noise of relief.
“I once heard a yak make a sound like that,” said Sarkis.
“Are you comparing me to a yak?” She heard the thump as he set her pack down and a rattling as he checked the doors.
“It was merely an observation. My lady.”
Halla couldn’t be bothered to lift her head. Every muscle in her body was trying to unknot at once. “I’m sure I’d be a very good yak.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “You’d be the best of yaks.”
Was that a compliment? An insult? She wasn’t sure, and at the moment, she didn’t much care.
“Yaks complain, but they’re smart. As smart as horses. And curious. And they don’t suffer fools.”
Halla sighed, rolling over. Her back screamed. “I wish I didn’t suffer fools.”
