Fen suspected Dol not onlyhadbeen questioning him that first day, but that Dol was more observant and tactful than any noble would have expected from a baker’s son-turned-soldier. The Wild Dog had chosen his people well.
Dol surprised Fen with that remark, but didn’t press the issue or offer any solutions. He only went on to say, “Ati has freed me from this dungeon and I am tired of being understanding. Sometimes, a person must act, Fen.”
He was the only one to call Fen by his name. Ati mostly said, “You there!” to get Fen’s attention. But Ati also said that to Dol and perhaps didn’t bother to learn names.
Leaning on both Fen and the crutch Ati had mere moments before permitted Dol to use for short walks so that “his legs wouldn’t forget how they worked,” Dol left the healer’s tent to do a slow circle around the cookfire. He stopped to rest not far from where Race sat cross-legged on the ground to eat his dinner.
Race ignored their presence except to smile at Fen and say, “You can sit with me when you’re done with him, flower. I’ll give you better advice on how to resolve whatever is making you frown so prettily.”
“Do you want me to pretend you are not smaller than me, Race from the morra?” Dol demanded,actingas he had said he was going to.
“As though that wasn’t an excuse,” Race immediately hissed, before continuing in a lofty manner. “It’s fine. What is said in bed doesn’t mean anything out of it.”
Dol gently pushed Fen aside in order to wobble on his crutch on his own. “I am not afraid of fae blood,” he announced clearly, as if unconcerned with everyone now watching them—or perhaps very aware of them and declaring this to everyone so Race could not deny it. “I am not whoever treated you thus in the past, beloved. Enough of this.”
Race stared at Dol for several moments, then put his food to the side and got to his feet. He glared up at Dol as he stopped in front of him. “I was worried and you wouldn’t let me help.”
“Maybe not with that, where you would not have able to do much. But I could have used some fussing after Ati saw to me,” Dol said, softer now. “I missed you.”
Fen felt himself staring when Dol reached down to cup Race’s cheek. He eventually tore his gaze away, trying to focus on the fire instead, or Heni smiling fondly at her friends as they spoke so intimately before others. He almost didn’t see the broad figure standing at the edge of the firelight. Lan was not looking away. No one was except for Fen, as if this was acceptable behavior.
“Dol, baker’s child.” Race said it as if he meant to scold, but then his next words were muffled against Dol’s chest. “Of course, I will. But why did you wait?”
“Race from the morra,” Dol said again, using a place or family name Fen did not recognize. “I didn’t. You just weren’t listening.”
Fen gave a start as a cheer went up from those gathered around the fire, looking from Dol and Race—now kissing as though they had no audience at all—to the happy crowd, before his attention caught on Lan again, smiling like the others although he remained silent.
People shouted promises of wine and ale for Dol and Race in the future, and then Race dragged a beaming but far from steady Dol in the direction of the trees, where they disappeared and did not return.
Fen eventually sat with the others, glancing toward the trees several times before the merry mood and the cheerful conversation distracted him.
He stopped Heni as she headed to her bedroll sometime later. “Was that an alliance as you all do them?”
“They are sworn together now, flower,” Heni told him, her tone only lightly teasing despite how she clearly thought Fen should have known something so obvious. “Finally.”
“That was all?” It was not much different from what nobles might have done, if they bothered with any ceremony. But Fen hadn’t heard any particular words or promises, only the slightly unusual formality with their names. “Are either of them sworn to anyone else?”
Heni paused, then shook her head. “Race is all flirtatious show, but he has been devoted to Dol since nearly the day they met. And Dol… he’s crafty, no matter how friendly he is. But if he has someone, he left them long ago to follow Lan. So I’d say no. Race would likely boss around whoever it was anyway.”
“So only the two of them, for no reason other than affection?” Fen turned to consider the shadows of the deeper wood. The space inside his chest felt tender.
“Oh.” Heni peered down at him, looking awkward. “I thought… from how you spoke so calmly about your fate that you… well. It doesn’t have to all be alliances. You might have that yourself someday, if you want it.”
“In the camp of the Wild Dog, I might do as I please?” Fen asked softly. Merely saying the words made his heart beat faster.
“Well, I wouldn’t go around making alliances left and right.” Heni still seemed awkward. “In fact, if I were you, I would think carefully before acting on any such matter or… or… even taking bed partners or anything like a lover.” She coughed.
Confusion pulled Fen from his worries about his existing alliance that had gone nowhere. “Because The Geon thought to keep me and will be angry he didn’t get to, and others might feel the same way? You said I might do as I please.”
“Merciful fae save me,” Heni muttered. “I mean only advice I might give anyone: do not give your heart recklessly.”
Fen looked from her to Lan, who had moved closer to the fire as some of the cheer died down and more people went to find their beds. He rubbed his wrist and frowned as Lan scraped what was left of the day’s stew into a bowl. Heni patted Fen’s head the way she patted the dogs. It disturbed his hair but warmed the top of his head.
“I won’t,” Fen assured her absently, only later realizing that Heni had left to seek her bed and was not there to hear it.
Six
If Lan meant to entirely keep Fen in the dark about his activities and abilities, then letting Fen walk with his people all day and hear their different accents and stories was no way to go about it. Although Lan had little choice in the matter unless he left Fen behind or killed him, and he had done neither.
