Chapter 69 Three Stories and a Threesome
#69 of Fox Hunt 2: The Queen of Varimore
It'll be over soon. I really hate that I let this entire thing get so long, actually. I think fleshing out Corene and Jonathan (and introducing Hellene) is what did it. And Hellene is a character that isn't even really fleshed out, which means doing so will just make this even longer . . . /sigh/
Three Stories and a Threesome
Chapter 69
When Etienne awoke, he was lying on the floor, in the middle of the stone passage beneath the ruin. The torch was still burning on the earthen floor beside him, and daylight was coming down the stairs: he had spent the night beneath the ruin. With Azrian.
Sleepy and muddled, he slowly sat up and took up the torch. He could still feel the dream. Little bits of it clung to his mind in flashes. He could still smell Azrian's scent as if she were sitting right beside him. He could still feel her soft body in his arms. He could still taste her kisses on his lips. And it had been so real, he knew it was more than a mere dream. And he knew something else as well: she was still in love with him.
He smiled, and he was about to get up when he noticed the large mural on the wall opposite. It was of Kutre. The great white bird spread her wings across the wall, and her beak was lifted, as if she were taking flight. Her eyes in the mural were white as diamonds, blank and indifferent. . . and yet somehow warm. And it occurred to him that Kutre had given them the dream. Kutre had taken pity on them, and out of compassion, had allowed them a moment together, where no one -- not even the gods -- could tear them apart.
Etienne made his way up the stairs and into the sunlight. The foxes were sitting around their fires having breakfast, and it didn't take long for Etienne to spot Connell, Kesuk, and Crawley. Judith was no where to be seen, and Reed still had not returned. Etienne frowned and passed off his torch to one of the waiting foxes, who stood guarding the stair.
"Your majesty." Kesuk greeted Etienne with a reverent incline of his head as the prince joined them around their fire. He seemed complacent enough as he took to a plate of fish, but he kept glancing with concern at Connell and Crawley, who both seemed a bit unsteady and bleary eyed. Etienne couldn't understand why until he saw the canteen that passed between them. Ah. They were drunk.
"You two," scolded Etienne, "should bloody know better than this." He took the canteen as Crawley was passing it to Connell and set it near his foot. Both males stared at it dully, though Etienne thought they might both lunge for it.
"Where's Judith?" Etienne said to Kesuk, but Connell made a noise somewhere between a sob and a scoff. Etienne looked at him in amazement.
"My Judith," said the old Pointer wretchedly and bowed his head, running his paw back through his mane.
Etienne looked at Kesuk for an explanation, and the fluffy sleigh dog sighed heavily.
"He saw Judith . . . with a male last night," Kesuk explained wearily. "Two males, I think."
Etienne's brows went up in surprise.
"It was actually bloody brilliant," said Crawley and grinned, spreading his big paws. "These two foxes . . ." he burped softly and rocked, ". . . had her on her knees, takin' it in the pussy and the mouth . . . She was butt naked . . ." Crawley's eyes hooded and he flexed on his fingers on imaginary breasts, ". . . and ahhhh her tits were just flapping -- such nice little titties --"
"Oh god!" Connell moaned and buried his face in his paws.
Etienne's mouth slipped open in horror. "Well, who did this to her!" he cried indignantly. "And why didn't anyone come to me! I could have . . .I . . ." His voice trailed off as he realized there was nothing he could have done. Even with magic. He had the same basic level of magic a mortal fox did. Or that was how it seemed.
Kesuk shook his head seriously. "No, your majesty," he said, tipping some fish on a plate for Etienne. He passed the plate to him. "Judith went _willingly_with the foxes. She wanted them to . . ." He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Fuck her face?" suggested Crawley and hiccoughed.
"Oh god . . ." moaned Connell and dropped his head.
"Alright," Etienne said, starting on his plate. He jerked his head at Connell, who was sobbing quietly. "I understand why he's drunk. What's your excuse?" he demanded of Crawley.
Crawley wobbled slowly on his seat, and the smile dropped from his face as he muttered, ". . . no one wanted to fuck me."
"Ah . . ." Etienne returned to his plate, holding back a smile. "And you, Kesuk? Did you . . . experience the fox side?"
Kesuk snorted. "Nothing close, your majesty. I was too busy babysitting these two. Connell here tried to run down in those ruins to find you, so you could 'rescue' Judith. The foxes wouldn't let him go down, so he starts a row with them. One of them knocks him on his ass, then Crawley there jumps in drunk as you please, and all hell would've broken out if I hadn't knocked them both on their heads and dragged them away."
Etienne closed his eyes and shook his head. "Thank god for you, Kesuk." He frowned disapprovingly at the other two. "And as for you two, if we were already in Wychowl, I'd suspend you both for misconduct and dock your pay for a month."
Crawley flattened his ears sheepishly, but Connell didn't appear to be listening. The Pointer was still sobbing softly, his head down and his gray mane tousled and loose of its usual tail. He sat with his elbows on his knees, staring at his feet, and he looked so pitiful, Etienne returned to his plate without scolding him further.
"And no sign of Reed?" Etienne asked Kesuk.
"No, your majesty," Kesuk returned. "I asked that vixen, uh . . . the one that spoke to us last night. The one with the cub." He glanced around as if looking for her, and given the light that came to his eye, Etienne got the feeling that he might have liked her. Just a little. "Her name was Seretse," Kesuk went on, returning to his plate when he failed to locate the fox. "She's actually the leader of the clan. And the little boy, he's the prince. Prince Teliso."
"Ah," Etienne said -- because he didn't know what to say. He shoveled fish in his mouth and glanced furtively at Kesuk, who seemed a little down, though he was trying his best to remain solemn and unreadable.
If Kesuk really liked Seretse and she really liked him, there was no way they could have been together regardless. She was the leader of the tribe, which meant she had probably been born of magic to Kutre, and which also meant she had to marry within her tribe to produce heirs, and dogs could not breed with foxes: Etienne had been able to give Taiga a child because he was god-touched after having been to Skkye. Such a child would have been very unique given the circumstances of its creation: a child born to a princess born of magic and a dog demigod, the descendent of King Antony himself. Etienne could have easily stayed with Taiga and lived as her husband, perhaps making more heirs to the clan. Such a thing could have happened for him, but not for Kesuk.
But if Seretse and her son had been artic foxes who had lived in the north with Kesuk, the northern sleigh dog would have been able to make them his family without hesitation, regardless of the fact that he and Seretse could not make children together. It was said the artic foxes of the north did not acknowledge the gods and married who they pleased, often across species with dogs.
Kesuk's eyes drifted dreamily past Etienne, and the prince followed his gaze. Ah. Seretse. She was standing at another of the many fires, one not far from their own. And she was lovely. She was white like the rest of her clan, but her tail was bright red, and it poked from beneath of her deerskin dress, swinging low and curled at the tip. Her shoulders were wrapped in black wolfskin, and on her head, she wore a crown of white feathers, in honor of Kutre. In her paw was a staff, its branches curled at the tip to spread in a web over a large sparkling diamond. Her long white mane flowed down her back, and when she turned her head, Etienne saw the feathers dangling from her ears dance in the breeze. She was laughing at something, and Etienne followed her gaze to see her little son playing with a small female cub. The children were wrestling in the dirt as the adults around the fire laughed and scolded. The girl won the wrestling match and slammed little Teliso's face in the mud. Everyone laughed as Teliso scowled and fought himself free.
Etienne glanced back at Kesuk, who smiled sadly and dropped his eyes to his plate. His face became hard again, as if to hide his emotions. And he avoided looking at Etienne.
Etienne returned to his own plate, and he suddenly found himself wondering why Kesuk would ever have left his home to come south to a place where his society was not considered idyllic but barbaric. The dogs of the south often mocked the dogs of the north, saying they were no better than fox savages. After having spent some time with Charles, Etienne knew Duke Richard's brother had gone to the north after joining the king's army, as if to escape the harsh realities of the service. Initially, the duke's brother said he was stationed there, but when he never came back, everyone knew he had gone AWOL. He disappeared into the tundra, and no one ever saw him again. But Etienne was certain he was happily fishing from a frozen lake somewhere, with a pretty sleigh dog wife and seven pups.
"Kesuk," Etienne said and cleared his throat.
"Yes, your majesty?" Kesuk returned, sounding dutiful and polite as ever.
"It occurs to me that I know absolutely nothing about you," Etienne went on. He glanced at the other two. "About any of you, really. How'd you come to serve my uncle? Have long have you known him?"
"Yeah, sleigh dog," Crawley said to Kesuk with a short laugh. "Tell our prince the truth."
Etienne frowned. What did that mean?
Kesuk darted Crawley a glare, but his face smoothed over solemn again and he speared a chunk of fish on his fork. "I came into your uncle's service about five years ago," Kesuk said, quiet and dignified as he took the fish in his mouth. He poked his plate again and his face darkened. "I had been exiled from the north. . . . They say I murdered my wife."
Etienne went very still. What!
Crawley laughed darkly. "They say. He doesn't know. He woke up drunk as a skunk, and she was dead."
Etienne frowned. "Let Kesuk tell the story, Crawley, please."
"Yeah," muttered Connell under his breath and nudged Crawley with his elbow. "Shut your lip for five seconds. If you can manage it."
Crawley glared at the fire and fell silent. Etienne saw him glance at the platter of fish on a large brick near their fire, and he went to it and took a serving.
Kesuk frowned at his plate. "I don't think I killed her. But how could I know? I was drunk. . . . her blood was on me."
"Would you ever have hurt her?" Etienne pointed out.
Kesuk raised his face and looked him in the eye. "Never, your majesty. I would have died first."
"Then clearly," said Etienne, "you were mistakenly punished. Don't your clans have hearings up there? Courts of law, at least?"
Kesuk shook his head. "There is only one way, and that is the way of Blood Price. You pay blood for blood. And sometimes if the chief feels merciful, then it's exile. My chief didn't believe I was guilty. She gave me a pack and a spear, and they had me stand on the ice as they chipped it off. I floated out into the sunrise and to the other side of the water. And I walked south . . . until everything I loved was behind me. And forgotten."
"That's . . . terribly sad," Etienne said and his ears went back flat.
"I tried to find work in your lands of the south," Kesuk went on. "The dogs here . . . they don't take kindly to my breed. I was a warrior, but no one trusted me with a blade. I was often made to scrub floors in the kitchens, or else muck out horse stalls, though I had come seeking employment as a guard. Most dogs here treated me with disdain, or else suspicion and fear. I was constantly jumped in the streets . . . mugged . . ." His eyes glinted.
"Boo hoo," whispered Crawley, and Etienne glared him to silence again.
"So how'd you meet my uncle?" Etienne asked the sleigh dog.
Kesuk smiled sadly. "I was a bootblack for a while. It is work for children, really. But it is good work. I didn't have to answer to any employer, nor put up with suspicion from fellow workers. I lived strictly off what I made on my own each day."
"Couldn't have been much," Connell said sympathetically.
"No," said Kesuk and smiled. "But it was enough to drink in the darkest tavern in the darkest corner every evening."
Connell laughed, "Aye. That's true."
Etienne laughed too.
"That was how I met Duke Richard," Kesuk went on, and Etienne's brows went up in surprise: he had expected for it to be Charles.
"I was sitting at the bar," the sleigh dog continued, "and Duke Richard comes in. And I'm shocked to see someone of his wealth and status there. One glance at him was all it took to see he was highborn and had no business there. He was covered in enough jewels to buy the town, and I would have worried that someone would have robbed him, only he hadn't come alone. This big Great Dane was with him, and outside by his carriage, more guards waited for him. He sat at the bar and started drinking. And he noticed me. I listened to him talking sadly, for many hours, about Duke Charles and how much he loved him and how he couldn't seem to make him happy. And before long, we were sharing a cigar, and I was telling him my own story. And by the end of the night, he set down his drink and shook my paw . . . and hired me on." Kesuk smiled at his plate. "And that's how I came to work for your uncle, your highness."
"Well," Etienne said good-naturedly, "I'm glad things worked out for you."
"Did they, your majesty?" Kesuk said heavily. "My wife is still dead."
They fell silent, and after a few moments of guilt, Etienne glanced Connell, who was still staring at the ground, his head down and his tousled mane draped around his face.
"And you, Connell?" Etienne prompted. "Someone your age must have quite a story."
"Someone my age," Connell repeated miserably. He lifted his face and looked at Etienne. "Is that it? Is that why Judith doesn't want me? Because I'm old?"
Crawley laughed softly.
Etienne frowned and didn't know what to say. "I. . . ."
"With age," went on Connell emphatically, "comes experience! Experience, dammit! Doesn't that count for anything anymore? I could turn that girl out! I could do such nasty things to her with my tongue, she would be sobbing for more!" He suddenly scowled. "But who does she want? Some young fox studs with big dicks --"
"I can't imagine why," laughed Crawley. He looked at Etienne. "Their dicks were like sausages, your majesty!" He busted up laughing.
"Shut up, you great lump," Connell complained. "The prince asked me a question, not you."
Etienne held back a smile as he speared more fish on his fork. If he knew Connell was going to go off into a rant about Judith, he wouldn't have asked. "Connell . . . " he said uncertainly. "I was more curious about your life before Howlester . . . or how you came to be there. Have you family?" He frowned sympathetically. "Did you lose anyone back in the duchy?"
Connell smiled sadly. "I ain't got a soul in the world, your majesty. But thanks for asking."
Etienne's sympathetic frown deepened. He couldn't understand why.
"This is getting depressing," said Crawley under his breath. He eyed the canteen near Etienne's foot but didn't dare make a move for it.
"Alright," Connell said with a sniff and leaned his paw on his knee, sticking his elbow out. "I know what you want, your majesty. I am Duke Albert Augustine Marshall Connell IV -- yes, of those Connells -- last of my fallen house and last to carry the burden of our shame."
Ah. _Those_Connells, Etienne thought. He had heard the stories. A few generations back, the Connells shocked the nine kingdoms when they turned on the king of Idria -- who they had once been unwaveringly loyal to -- and led a coup to take his throne. The coup was unsuccessful, and its leader -- Albert's grandfather -- was publicly executed alongside his wife and conspiring children, who were adults at the time and fully involved.
"I'm sure you know how the famous Connells died, your majesty. The king decided to execute my parents," Connell went on with another sniff, "right alongside my grandfather -- and me grandmum. He decided to let me live because I was just a pup, but he made me watch as their heads rolled across the ground. And he then picked up my mother's head . . ."
Etienne stiffened.
". . . and he shook her bloody head in my face, and he told me that if I ever tried what my family had tried, I would wind up just like them. And then he exiled me to Varimore."
"Holy shit," muttered Crawley. He looked at Connell with new eyes, and Etienne thought he saw sympathy in the big mastiff's face. "I-I mean, I heard the stories," he stammered. "But never that part."
"No," said Connell darkly to the ground. "No one knows that part. I lived on the streets for years. Actually ran away from the orphanage, because they do things to you in the dark in them orphanages. I snuck in a tournament when I was about seven and saw some bloke win a fencing match. The lord of the manor, his guards grabbed me by the scruff and was gonna toss me out. But the lord decided to keep me as a stable boy. I worked his horses for years, but he also trained me as a guard, thinking one day I'd protect him. As payback for all he'd done for me. . . ." He trailed off unhappily.
Etienne swallowed hard. He could smell more tragedy coming. "What happened to the lord?"
"Nothin'," Connell said heavily and shrugged. "I protected him all his life, and he became like a father to me. He died peacefully in his bed, old and fat and happy. The rest of his family hated me -- 'specially his children, who'd been jealous of us for years. I couldn't stay there. I left. Went from lord to lord lookin' for work, droppin' the baron's name in the hope that some bloke who knew him would take me on. Stayed a few places but always wound up leavin'. Duke Charles and Duke Richard, they was being attacked left and right because of how they chose to live their lives. So I decided I wanted to protect them. And they hired me on." He smiled at Etienne. "And that's that. Your majesty."
Etienne smiled back. "I never would have guessed you were . . ."
"Of _those_Connells?" Connell finished for him and laughed.
"Yeah," admitted Etienne.
Connell chuckled. "Me neither. I try to forget. Sometimes it works for a few years."
Etienne picked up the canteen and offered it. "You want it back?"
Connell laughed. "No, no, your majesty. You're right. I shouldn't be drinkin' over some female. I'm supposed to be protectin' you."
"Now tell the prince your story, Crawley," Kesuk said wearily. "Get it over with so we can move on."
"There is no story," Crawley said hesitantly.
Kesuk scowled. "You were kicked out of the academy for a reason."
"And it's all you ever talked about back at Howlester, boy," Connell added irritably. "Constantly flappin' your lip like you was better than the rest of us because some professionals tossed you out on your tail."
Crawley scowled. "Do you know how long it takes to train at the academy? Twenty bloody years. Sometimes longer --"
"That's to make sure no young, hotheaded fools are protecting the royal family," Connell interrupted. "Just older, wiser, levelheaded soldiers who've had experience in the field."
"Matson was old and wise," Crawley scoffed. "And he's dead."
Connell's small eyes slowly narrowed on Crawley. "You watch your mouth, boy. Ol' Matson didn't die because he was a hotheaded prick like you. Ol' Matson died because he was loyal as fuck and refused to leave the gate so those foxes could get inside. He stood and fought -- even though he'd never lifted a sword in his life. And at least he fought at all. For all your 'experience' with the academy, you were the first one to run back to the manor. And not because you'd been wounded in battle, but because Captain Shackley broke your miserable fingers after you punched her."
Crawley swallowed hard and stared at the dirt.
Etienne sat very still. He couldn't believe it. "You punched a lady?" he said angrily.
Crawley glared at his boots. "That bint Estica is no lady."
"Ain't that the truth," laughed Connell derisively. "She's more male than you'll ever be."
Crawley glared at him.
"So what happened at the academy?" Etienne demanded. "Who'd you offend there?"
Crawley dropped his eyes. "I was at the academy for fifteen years, your majesty. They had me on patrol in Sudbury on occasion. Or sometimes Redwick --"
"Tell his majesty how you were the best student there," Kesuk interrupted, rolling his eyes.
"Or tell 'im how you tumbled in and out of brothels and got suspended every other month for drunken misdemeanors," added Connell, staring at the fire.
Etienne laughed softly. "I take it you two have heard this before."
"We know it by heart, your majesty," said Kesuk wearily.
Crawley scowled. "Alright," he said. "So I wasn't the best bloody student. But Captain Crawford kept me on because I wanted it the most. I love my kingdom and my king, and all my life, all I ever _wanted_was to serve the crown."
Etienne blinked at the big mastiff, surprised. "And why is that, Crawley?"
Crawley shook his head in amazement. "Your majesty . . ." he said and offered his paws. "There is no higher calling than serving you!"
Etienne sat taken aback a moment and didn't know what to say. Neither did the others, who were equally surprised by the devotion in Crawley's face.
"So . . ." Etienne dropped his eyes to his plate. "What happened? Why'd you get kicked out? You've danced around it long enough, I think."
Kesuk and Connell looked at Crawley, waiting curiously for his response, and Etienne realized they didn't know why the mastiff had been kicked out either.
"My father was kicked out before me," Crawley said heavily. "One of the instructors at the academy hated me. Was always running me down about it, riding my back. Everything I did was wrong, and he punished me for the smallest mistakes. Sometimes he had me running in place with my shirt off, and he'd look at me all wrong. Said I'd be just like my ol' dad, that I'd fail too. Then one day . . ." Crawley swallowed hard, and Etienne went still when angry tears started to his eyes. "We were alone in the classroom . . . and the bastard slammed my face to the chalkboard and asked if I sucked dick like my ol' dad. I said it wasn't true -- my ol' dad wasn't no cocksucker! But he laughed at me and said he was . . . and then he ripped my belt off a-and . . . touched my dick."
Everyone sat very still, staring at Crawley. Etienne noticed Connell's ears had gone flat with sympathy, and Kesuk was sitting with his lips parted in shock.
Etienne cleared his throat. "Crawley . . . you don't have to go on."
"It's alright, your majesty," Crawley answered, looking at Etienne through his tears. "He tried to rape me -- there against the chalkboard while everyone else was out runnin' laps. He got part ways in, but I elbowed him in the face and broke his nose. He told everyone I had attacked him, that I tried to rape him. . . ." Crawley scowled at the ground. "And that's how I was kicked out of the academy."
And probably how his father was kicked out, Etienne thought. Crawley was young, fiery, handsome, and big as hell. It was no small wonder that another male had wanted him. But to try to rape him? And to sully his good name on top of that? It was appalling.
"Give me this instructor's name," Etienne said after a pause.
Crawley looked at him slowly. "Your majesty?"
"Give me his name," Etienne repeated. "Later, when we're at Wychowl. There's no doubt in my mind he's assaulting other cadets, and they are keeping their mouths shut so they can graduate. I can't live in good conscience knowing such things are happening in my kingdom unchecked."
Crawley smiled and blinked in disbelief. "Of -- Of course, your majesty!"
Etienne dropped his eyes to his plate again. And now the mystery of Crawley had unfolded. Crawley made a show of liking females and talking down to them because he thought it was masculine, and to act masculine -- to him -- meant proving he didn't like males. It was his way of dealing with something terrible that had happened to him. Etienne hoped the male would one day learn a better way of dealing with it: taking his frustrations out on females was not the answer.
"What is your plan, your majesty?" Kesuk wondered. "When we finally come to Wychowl, I mean."
"We gonna lead an underground coup against the queen?" Connell joked. "Because me and my family . . . we ain't so good at coups."
Etienne smiled. "I will take my father's throne. Donica isn't of Emerald blood. She will have no choice but to step down."
"So . . ." Connell scratched his chin and looked at Etienne curiously. "What's your story, your majesty? How'd you get to be prince of the world?"
Etienne laughed. "My father loved a duchess, fucked her behind Donica's back, and had me." He fell silent, his eyes moving from shocked face to shocked face. It wasn't widely known, of course, that Donica was not actually Etienne's mother. Etienne planned to make that known, though. As soon as he was king. He glowered at his plate. As well as Donica's other sins. He still believed she had poisoned his father, that Dr. Ellert had found evidence of the fact and had been trying to tell him. Perhaps he would see her hang for it.
They all looked up when Judith appeared, the veil of her long black mane draped over her eyes and splitting over her snout. Her dress and apron fell over her as neatly as before, and there was no evidence that she been off bouncing between two males all night, not even a smell. She didn't seem to notice how Connell looked at her unhappily. She turned her face to Etienne and remarked, "You seem happy, your majesty."
Etienne grinned, thinking of Azrian. "Yes," he said, "I do, don't I?"
Judith took a seat beside Etienne, and Kesuk passed her a plate of fish. She accepted it and tucked in with the usual slow dignity. "How did it go?" she asked. "With Kutre, your majesty. What did she want?"
To let me and Azrian have sex because she pitied us, Etienne thought. "Nothing," he lied. "I went down there . . . and it felt like I'd entered another world. There was just . . . darkness." That much was true.
"Ah," said Judith. "You went to the Halfway Place."
Crawley rolled his eyes. "What the bloody hell is that?"
"It is where our spirits go when we die," Judith said. "It's a sort of . . . limbo. We stay there for a time, until our energy has recycled back into the earth."
"And then we're reborn as fairies and rainbows," Crawley said derisively.
"Shut up, boy," Connell warned.
"If you went there," Judith said to Etienne, calmly ignoring Crawley, "then maybe Kutre just wanted to look at you, to see the child of First Light for herself. I'm surprised she's taken an interest in you, actually. Kutre doesn't care about the gods' great game. She is indifferent. And so are her children." Judith glanced from face to face, as if she'd suddenly remembered. "And her children haven't returned Reed, I see."
"Yeah," snorted Connell with a sad laugh. "We've been sittin' here all day. I'm starting to get scared for the lad."
Etienne glanced at the sky and realized with a skip of his heart that it was well past noon. He set his empty plate by his foot and took a weary drink from the canteen. He made a face. It was whisky.
Judith turned her protruding nose to Connell. "There is no reason to be afraid for him. They simply wish to have their way with him until he is exhausted. He must have a great deal of stamina to have lasted this long."
Crawley busted up laughing.
"You would know about stamina, wouldn't you?" Connell muttered under his breath.
Judith paused, fork in paw, and peered at him as if she hadn't quite heard him. "Excuse me?" she said calmly.
Connell glowered. "I'm talking about you," he accused, "on your knees between those boys, letting them grope your -- and lick your --!" He pushed his paw back through his mane, unable to finish.
Judith just stared at Connell, and though Etienne could not see her eyes, he had the feeling she was unaware of Connell's affections and did not understand why he was angry with her. She slowly put her fork down and continued to stare at him. "Albert . . . is there something you wish to say to me?"
Etienne looked at Connell and so did everyone else. They waited for him to tell Judith how he felt, that he wanted her, that he cared for her, but he only scowled at the ground and muttered, "No." They watched as he shot from his seat and stalked off to the bushes, where he unbuttoned his pants and took a leak.
Judith returned uncertainly to her plate.
"You really got a hold o' that one," chuckled Crawley.
Etienne frowned at him and shook his head. "Inappropriate," he said darkly.
Crawley nodded apologetically.
"Is he really angry that I was with two males?" Judith said, bewildered.
"God bless ya," said Crawley dreamily.
"I think he's in love with you," Kesuk said.
"You should talk to him," Etienne added. "We've still some ways to Thalsin, and I'd rather the journey was pleasant."
Judith nodded. She set aside her plate and rose to her feet. Etienne caught her wrist as she was passing him, and she looked down at him curiously.
Etienne frowned. "And . . . let him down gently? Life has already been . . . so unkind."