Eona by Alison Goodman Page A

emperor said curtly.
    We climbed to our feet. His eyes swept over the horses.
    â€œOnly four?” he said. “What is our number?”
    â€œEight, Your Majesty,” Dela said.
    â€œWe double up, then. We must put as much distance as we can between us and this miserable inn, as quickly as possible.”
    Ryko stepped forward. As promised, he held Kinra’s swords. The blades were wiped clean. They had come so close to drawing the emperor’s blood; I could not risk touching them in his presence.
    â€œYour Majesty,” Ryko said, “may I suggest you allow Lady Eona to ride with you? Your horse is in no condition to carry two men.”
    It was sound reasoning, but I knew he had suggested it to stay as far from me as possible. There had been no opportunity to speak to him about my strange hold on his will during the battle. I tried to shake off a sense of foreboding. I did not want to control anyone’s will—and I certainly did not want the control to come between us. Ryko’s trust in me was already clouded by suspicion.
    â€œNo, Ryko.” Yuso shook his head, the strength of his opposition drawing him level with the islander. “It is not good strategy to have His Highness and the Lady Dragoneye on one horse.”
    The islander raised his chin. “It is in this case, captain. We can surround and protect both while still maintaining speed.”
    Yuso studied his subordinate. “And if we are pursued and engaged, we could lose both. No, better to split up our treasures than have them in one place for the taking.”
    â€œEnough,” the emperor said wearily. “We do not have time for this. Lady Eona will ride with me. Ju-Long has a strong heart, but he is almost spent, and a lighter load will make the difference.”
    The two soldiers bowed.
    The emperor looked down at his blood-streaked mourning robe. “Lady Dela, find me something to wear. This robe no longer honors my father. The rest of you, pair off with an eye to saving the horses.”
    â€œThis way, Your Majesty.” Dela ushered him past us and into the stable.
    â€œYou should eat more of that fruit,” Vida said, motioning to the travel rations tied to my sash. “It is going to be a hard day.”
    â€œVida,” Solly called. “Bring those feed bags over here.”
    She nodded again at my rations, then slung the long, bulging bags over her shoulder. I turned my attention to Ryko and his fellow guard as they checked saddles and stirrups. Heavy silence weighted the air. What had happened in the courtyard to cause such tension? An image of Haddo, sword through his chest, leaped into my mind.
    Hurriedly, I untied the fruit string from my sash, focusing fiercely on the task to stop the terrible image. The string finally came free and I tore off a large chunk of dried plum. The whole piece went in to my mouth—a boy’s habit that would have to change—but this time, no one was watching. I closed my eyes and chewed into a sudden flood of dusty sweetness. As though the sugary fruit had been a trigger, I felt deep fatigue wash over me. All I wanted was to sleep—to find some respite from the blood and horror—but a day of hard riding was ahead. I sent up a small prayer to the gods: Help me stay on the emperor’s horse. And help me find a way to live with these insistent ghosts .
    â€œLady Eona.”
    I opened my eyes. The emperor stood before me dressed in a plain brown tunic and trousers. A high collar covered the Imperial Pearl, although I could see the top of the rough stitches that secured the gem to his skin. I quickly swallowed the remains of the plum.
    â€œYour Majesty,” I said, and started to bow. Halfway down, he caught my arm, guiding me up again.
    â€œThis is not the time or place for court etiquette.” He let go. “I see that you are no longer lame. Surely a gift from the gods for your courage.”
    I opened my mouth to answer,