Free Tyrant's Blood by Fiona McIntosh Page A

something.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘We need to move on,’ Greven continued conversationally. ‘I’m bored with this place, aren’t you? Perhaps we could look at Gormand, or Cremond, get lost in and around Lo’s Teeth or the Dragonsback Mountains. That would be quite an exciting trip. What do you say?’ Piven’s expression turned to one of puzzlement. ‘Why?’
    Greven looked surprised. ‘Why not, I say? Don’t you want to see more of the world?’
    Piven shook his head. ‘I want to stay here. It’s peaceful.’
    ‘True,’ Greven replied, thoughtfully. ‘But we can find other tranquil spots.’
    ‘Who are we running from?’
    ‘No one,’ Greven replied firmly and too quickly, Piven thought. Then his long-time companion seemed to reconsider his suggestion. ‘There’s no reason to move permanently. How about some travel? I think it’s high time I gave you an education about this fair land. It’s safe now to roam through the realms and we can do so easily enough—thanks to you that Bonny’s well. We can even use some savings to buy a mule…or even a horse and cart.’ He sounded excited but Piven heard panic driving Greven’s enthusiasm. ‘What do you say, eh? Are you ready for an adventure, boy?’
    ‘When?’
    ‘No time like the present. Come on, let’s pack up a few things. We won’t need very much. We can close up the hut and go.’
    ‘What about Belle?’
    ‘We can leave a message for Jenna. She can take Belle down to her parents’ place when she picks up the next crate of herbals for her father’s apothecary.’
    ‘Who will tend the fungi?’
    Greven looked up to the sky momentarily as if to calm his patience, then back at Piven. ‘Come on, don’t put up barriers. Let’s just pack a few essentials and be gone this night.’ ‘You’ve always said never to travel at night unless you’re on the run.’
    He watched Greven wrestle his exasperation back under control. This man he loved smiled gently. ‘I did, didn’t I? All right, why don’t we leave in the morning? How does that sound?’
    Piven didn’t think it sounded good at all but he had little choice, for Greven seemed filled with a fierce drive to be gone. Already he was beginning to tidy the few items that had been left outside around the front patch of garden. Switching topics, even though he knew that lack of protest would be taken as his agreement to leave, Piven asked, ‘What happened in town today?’
    ‘Oh, nothing much at all,’ Greven said. He was packing planting pots into a crate.
    ‘Who did you talk to?’
    ‘I met Evelyn on the way, I spoke to Innkeeper Junes…no one in particular. All quite boring, really.’
    Piven knew, without any doubt now, Greven was lying. And the lie prompted him to make his final decision.
    That night Piven dreamed.
    In his dream he saw a woman. He recognised her instantly; he had been dreaming about her for the last few moons. She was slim, dark-haired, and exceptionally pretty with fine features that were so angular and precise they looked as if they could have been drawn. In the dream he was hidden but he didn’t know where or why. As was usual, she seemed to sense that she was being observed; kept looking around to find the voyeur. She looked strange. No, that wasn’t right. Where she was looked strange. The setting was foreign to him and one he couldn’t comprehend. She was busy at something but he could make no sense of it. She was in a room that was predominantly white and she was tending to someone who was lying down. There were lots of other people crowded around her, all watching what she was doing. She appeared to be talking constantly.
    He called to her, surprised that he knew her name, holding his breath in the hope that the other people wouldn’t hear him. The woman paused, as if a thought had struck her, and then she looked up, slightly startled, and stared straight at him.
    Piven felt himself falling backwards, as if from a clifftop into a great void. He yelled his fear