Praetorian Rising, стр. 8
How does he know my name? Camille narrowed her eyes, taking in his appearance. She noticed three hefty throwing daggers and a short-nosed sword with an ample blade. His clothes were well-fitted and made for travel; a loose cotton shirt and black vest were layered beneath a brown leather coat, and black pants tucked into dirty black leather boots. She could smell the bag of coin hanging on his hip filled with copper duggars, silver rubles, and golden gilders—enough money to buy a year's worth of food for Peter and Lunci.
"Who are you?" Camille insisted, glancing around for any sign of the boy.
"A drifter. I have no name," he said sarcastically, flinging his arms out like he was presenting himself to the royal court.
"What do people call you then?" Camille retorted.
He smiled. "You can call me anything you like, sweetheart." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her, drawing closer.
"What are you doing in my woods then, Drifter? And how do you know who I am?" Camille asked, instinctively stepping back. She continued to scan the forest in a slight panic, still unable to detect Lunci or Neeko nearby.
"Your woods?" he said, the corners of his lips quirking. He was annoyingly easy to look at, and Camille found it very distracting. His left cheek boasted a soft dimple with every smirk and smile—an uneven flaw in most but endearing on him. "I didn't realize these trees were spoken for."
"You're in Sierra Village. You aren't one of us. So, who are you? And how did you get past the guard tower?"
"Your 'guards' are quite seriously the most moronic Asperians I've ever seen. Those lazy bastards wouldn't know how to guard their dinner against a pack of puppies, let alone an entire village against a Chimera attack. I mean, honestly," the drifter continued, ignoring Camille's incredulous expression as he took another step toward her. "Now—are you planning on putting down that little toy of yours?"
"No!" Camille shot back, lifting her dagger more prominently in front of her. "Not until I know whether you did anything to Lunci."
"Ah, I see," the stranger cooed, looking to his right and left in a conspiratorial fashion. "You're looking for the little blonde boy, yes?"
"If you hurt him, so help me—"
"Whoa, whoa...easy there, sweetheart. He's fine. The boy's about fifty yards south of us." The drifter rubbed at the back of his neck, and Camille was immediately drawn to the flexing of his muscles.
Every facet of the stranger seemed slightly familiar to her: his mannerisms, his movements, his voice. The man's scent, especially: it was one of oak and pine, soap and musk, and it sent her pulse galloping.
"How do you know where he is?" she growled, trying to keep her anger from building further.
"Ease up Cam, your temper isn't necessary."
She felt a pinch embarrassed but wasn't ready to let down her guard. The stranger seemed to understand this and sighed loudly, his shoulders slipping with apparent perplexity. "Perhaps if you dialed back that temper, you would've been able to deduce his location yourself," he snapped, looking to a spot just over Camille's shoulder.
Camille didn't want to glance away from the drifter for even a second, but Lunci's careless steps were approaching. She took one more step away from the man before spinning to face the rustling leaves on her left.
Lunci broke through the bushes in a childlike gallop. "I got you! Thought you could hide from me, but none can escape the power of the incredible Lunci!"
Lunci leaped at her with careless abandon. Camille twisted away to avoid stabbing him, causing the silver amulet she always kept hidden under her clothing to swing free, pinging loudly against the flat side of the blade.
"What's wrong?" Lunci rasped, eyes going wide at the sight of the knife.
Neeko picked that moment to join them, a low and menacing hiss escaping his throat as he stared at the spot where the red-eyed beast had been.
Camille whipped about, searching the now-vacant spot where the drifter had stood. "Neeko, do you smell something?" Camille whispered. Neeko hissed in response, the fur bunching up around his neck as his tail swished back and forth.
"Camille, what's going on?" Lunci's voice shook as he edged closer to her, looking in the direction Neeko hissed.
"Where were you?" Camille said, grabbing Lunci's hand as her emerald eyes scanned the bushes for a pair of blood-red ones. She led them quickly around fallen trees and piles of dead leaves, constantly scanning their surroundings as they followed the slope of the hill toward the village.
"Where was I?" Lunci said, sounding confused. "I was looking for you! Why'd you quit hiding?"
Camille didn't answer. Instead, she continued to drag Lunci toward the safety of the village. As they left the tree line, Camille stole one more glance into the forest edge searching for the truth of what she'd seen. Without warning, Lunci's hand slipped from her grasp, and the side of her face smacked into a solid, hairy body that reeked of stale fish and week-old perspiration.
Chapter Three
Ayya Sisters
"Watch it, idiot—oh, it's you," Grenswald rumbled, sneering down at Camille with cracked dirty lips and blackened rotting teeth. Camille despised him out of principal being a hired hand of the High Court, but her distaste for his proximity was more profound than his presence alone. His muddy brown eyes lit up at the sight of her, and Camille was positive he recalled the first time they'd met.
She hadn't been in Sierra Village long, and most of the villagers kept their distance but for fake pleasantries when they saw her behind the butcher's counter.
Grenswald hadn't been too keen on making her feel welcome, and when she'd tried to hide a small apple away for Lunci during her first Moon Tax, the fat oaf had dragged her outside to make an example of her disobedience. He'd bellowed to the townspeople about the