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To check for blades, he answered, easily. He released her wrist and they settled back into their chairs. Victoria s hand tingled where his bare skin had come into contact with hers. Vaguely, she wondered if she was her imagination. Maybe she was too hungry; too tired. - 142 - Heather Killough-Walden Blades, she repeated, thinking that over. There had been a few Gamers that had kept combat weapons of different types strapped to their wrists for battle on the Field. That makes sense, she conceded. Another patron came into the tavern; this time a woman. She rubbed her hands on the apron she wore and looked around. Her gaze skirted over Victoria and Anders as they searched the room. Then, as if not finding what she was looking for, she made her way toward a door at the back of the tavern. What s the name of the place you left? Anders asked. Victoria frowned. What did she tell him? The Field? The other side of the wall? She was baffled enough that she was different from him, in the first place. Why was she the only one dressed as she was? Where were the cities? Her head was beginning to ache. I m& she racked her brain, & from& the Red Tower. Then, before he could ask what the hell the Red Tower was, she countered with a question of her own. What is this place called? He watched her in his dark, ardent way for a few seconds and then he sighed heavily. As if he was weary. It s Ocanus. A fishing village off of the Mare. There s nothing anywhere near here for miles. He leaned forward then, placing his muscled arms on the table and lacing his fingers together. The leather straps of his bracers swayed slightly as he did so, and the leather smell that wafted toward her reminded her of Victor. Not for hundreds of miles. He added, meaningfully. He wanted to know where she d come from. By all rights, she shouldn t have made it to Ocanus alive not across hundreds of miles. Not without food or water. He was suspicious, and she couldn t blame him. But again, it wasn t his business. - 143 - The Game She tore her gaze from his, concentrating on the door. At that moment, another man walked through the double doors, accompanied by a teenage boy. The pair made their way toward an empty table and the serving woman was at their side moments later. You re waiting for him to come in, aren t you. Victoria blinked and turned back to face Anders. At first, she wasn t sure what he meant. And then she realized that he was talking about the person she was running from. He d figured out that it was a man; that, too, made sense. And she kept watching the door. So, he figured she was waiting for the man to walk through it. Smart guy, Anders. It was a tad unnerving. She sighed and would have crossed her arms over her chest, except that the serving wench sidled up to the table, then, and placed a plate full of food and a mug full of ale in front of Victoria. Here you are, miss. That ll fill you up right nice. She turned to Anders. Anything for you, sir? She asked. Her voice carried an accent that Victoria had never heard. Anders waved her away and Victoria barely cared. The food on the plate in front of her smelled too divine. Better than anything she d ever caught a whiff on the Field. She stared down at the meal. There was a baked potato, still in its skin but split open, and atop it was some kind of gravy. The gravy was thick and creamy-looking, and covered both the potato and the sliced, juicy meat beside it. There was some kind of vegetable there, as well, which seemed to have been roasted. Instead of each item being compartmentalized in portion-appropriate division platters, as she was used to, it all ran together. And it looked so good like that& - 144 - Heather Killough-Walden Oh my, she whispered, picking up her fork. The prongs on the fork were roughly-hewn and there were three as opposed to the four she was used to. The knife beside it was also roughly shaped, seemingly sharpened using some kind of scraping technique, if the scratches down its length were any indication. Fascinating, is it? She jumped a little and looked up. What? You re staring at the cutlery. I take it you do use these items where you re from? Victoria blushed again. Damn it! And then she began cutting into the meat. She didn t normally eat meat, as she d never liked the way it tasted. And she d grown too fond of the wolves on the Field to appreciate the thought of eating animals not all that different from them. But right now, she was very hungry. And this smelled very good. And she needed something to distract her from Anders and his observant mind and his immense muscles. Yes, we do. They re just different, that s all. She mumbled. Then she forked a piece of gravy-covered meat and stuffed it into her mouth. It tasted as good as it smelled. She couldn t help the little eye-roll of pleasure she did, and she d be damned if she could do anything to stop the way she then began eating the meal with genuine gusto. Anders was polite enough not to mention the speed with which she downed her dinner. He said nothing as she ate. He just sat there and watched her in silence, smiling a small, pleased smile as she finished each bite off with a few swallows of her ale. When she d finished, she placed the knife and fork across the plate and licked her lips, picking up her goblet for a final drink. Better? Anders finally asked. - 145 - The Game Victoria nodded. She was too sated to deny it. Good. Now, here. Anders lifted a small leather pouch from somewhere beneath the table and set it in front of Victoria. It s enough money to pay for a room tonight and breakfast in the morn. I wouldn t argue if I were you, little one, as I can see you ve no money on you. He nudged it toward her. Take it. Victoria truly didn t know what to think of this. She stared down at the bag of what she assumed was some kind of coinage. Her forehead knitted as she considered all he d already done [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |