"It is but a word," Moria murmured.
Tyrus's eyes still flashed, and Gavril lifted in his seat, straining to see the gates, cursing at how far off they still seemed, their party slowly making its way through the growing crowd.
"Do you not like that, you traitorous bastard?" someone else yelled. "Perhaps you aren't ensorcelled after all. Perhaps you simply tell yourself that your whore did not spread her legs for Alvar's brat. Or perhaps you don't care. Whores have their attractions--"
"Enough!" Gavril said, then shook his head sharply, as if angry at himself for reacting.
And with that, the crowd realized how to break their stolid facade. The trio would not react to insults against themselves. But to one another? Oh yes, that worked. They fought to hide it, all of them gripping their reins and looking straight forward, but when the crowds insulted Tyrus's honor and Gavril's mother, Moria knew there was a limit to what she could endure. Lord Okami rode closer and counseled them to stopper their ears, but there was a growl in his voice that belied his words, one that said he was on the verge of drawing his own sword, and Dalain already had his out, carried at his side, spoiling for a fight. Which was not what Tyrus or Gavril wanted. Not at all.
There was, then, only one thing to be done. Moria squinted into the s
ky. Zuri had been flying in ever wider circles and ever higher, confident now that Tyrus would not escape her, boxed in as he was by the crowd. The bright sun meant she was but a shimmering patch of light, visible only to those who knew what to look for.
Now Moria lifted her hand over her head, with a piece of squashed plum between her fingers. Then she whistled. Zuri heard her above the crowd and circled sharp. The whelp saw what appeared to be food and began her descent. Before she could realize she'd been tricked, Moria dropped the plum and merely waggled her fingers. It was enough. Zuri swooped down and nipped at them. Nipped playfully, thank the goddess, though her teeth still dented the skin. She landed beside Tyrus's horse, walking alongside him and chirping. He reached into his pocket and threw her a piece of dried meat and she dove after it.
The moment Zuri had appeared, the crowd had gone silent. Now they stared, dumbfounded, as the whelp leaped and walked alongside Tyrus, snatching meat from his fingers.
"What?" Moria shouted into the crowd. "You act as if you've never seen a dragon before."
Tyrus snorted a laugh. Even Gavril cracked the barest smile. Behind them, the laughter carried through their party.
"You thought dragons did not exist?" Moria called out. "Then you are wrong. Perhaps you are wrong about many things. Tyrus Tatsu returns to the city--to his father--and he brings a dragon, his totem beast. If that is not a sign that the goddess favors our emperor, then I do not know what is."
Murmurs ran through the crowd.
"Perhaps you ought to give him way," Moria shouted. "Considering that he brings a dragon."
There were a few laughs and chuckles then, from the crowd itself. Not everyone moved. But enough backed away, heads bowed, that they were able to pick up speed, and no one challenged or insulted them until they were near enough to the gates for the guards to step out, swords at the ready.
Tyrus stopped his horse. "I will not enter the city gates without my father's permission. Please tell him I am here."
The captain of the guard gave a curt nod, one that could not be mistaken for a proper bow in any way. Then he turned on his heel and walked into the city, and they were left to wait.
FORTY-EIGHT
They waited in silence. Tyrus kept glancing at Moria, and she wanted to move closer, to whisper with him and reassure him, but she knew that would only get the crowd grumbling again. The Keeper who had seduced him and continued to bewitch him.
It might seem a pretty fantasy to one who imagined her some beautiful and delicate maiden, but it seemed impossible to fathom that they could see her--with her dusty breeches and plain tunic, face dirty from the long ride, her hair messily braided--and imagine a girl who seduced both an imperial prince and the enemy's son. It was a feat worthy of an artful enchantress, not a village girl barely past her sixteenth summer.
Worse, they believed it with absolutely no evidence beyond the fact that she'd been seen in the company of both young men. It seemed that was all the proof anyone required, that now they were engaged in a deeply torrid love affair, ready to betray their empire and their families and their ancestors to be together.
"We ought to speak to the others while we wait," Moria said. "Reassure them that all will be well."
"Of course," Tyrus said, nodding, and he waved for her to go ahead. Gavril stayed where he was at first, sitting as still as a statue, a trickle of sweat the only sign of his terror.
"Gavril!" Tyrus called, waving to him. "Ashyn has a question for you."
Her sister had said no such thing, but Ashyn caught on and formulated one. As Gavril was talking to Ashyn, Tyrus moved up beside Moria and whispered, "You are well?"
"I am." She looked over at him. "Whatever happens next, remember this: it is not your fault."
"I--"
"Your father believes in you. He loves you. He is proud of you. He knows you have done absolutely nothing wrong. Well, except for escaping from Lord Okami's compound, but I'm sure he expected no less. If anything, he will be secretly pleased you managed it." She moved closer. "He will do what he must for the empire, but if we are to go to the dungeons, it will be only temporary, while he works this out, because there is no doubt in the mind of anyone here that you have done your best, and there will be no doubt in the mind of your father either. He is proud of you, and I am proud to ride at your side. Truly proud."
He dropped his gaze. "Thank you, Moria. I only hope that I will earn that momentarily."
"You already have. You have earned my regard and my loyalty and my love." She met his gaze. "Always. No matter what."