I lifted her thin wraithlike hand to my lips, squeezing my eyes shut. I nodded, swallowing the ache in my throat.
“Enough,” she said, pulling her hand away. “I was almost eaten by wolves. Did I tell you? Eristle heard me crying in the woods. When the skies quaked with thunder, she taught me to shut out—” Her eyes opened, her pupils large black moons floating in a circle of gray, and she weakly shook her head. “No, that is my story, not yours. Yours is calling. Be on your way.”
“Why me, Dihara?”
“You already have the answer to that question. It had to be someone. Why not you?”
These were the same words Venda had spoken to me. Cold fingers danced up my spine. This world, it breathes you in … it knows you, and then it breathes you out again, shares you.
Her eyes drifted shut, and her tongue reverted back to her native one, her voice as faint as the flickering of the candle. “Jei zinterr … jei trévitoria.”
Be brave. Be victorious.
I stood to leave. It felt like it was impossible to be either.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
RAFE
Sven tapped the table near my plate. “Colonel Bodeen will be offended. You’re not eating.”
“And these are the best bison chops I’ve ever had,” Orrin added as he sucked the last bit of sauce from a bone. “Don’t tell him I said so. I claimed mine were better.”
Tavish leaned back, his boots propped up on the table, scuffing the polished wood. He stared at me, not saying anything. We had taken a break from our discussions and were holed up in Bodeen’s office while the other officers ate their midday meal in the meeting chamber.
Sven stood and looked out the window. “Don’t worry, boy. All this will fall into place. It’s a lot to take in at once.”
“Boy?” Tavish said. “He’s the blooming king now.”
“He can strip it from my hide.”
I pushed my plate away. “It’s not just court matters on my mind. It’s Lia. She had a run-in with Hague.”
Sven grunted. “So? Everyone has run-ins with Hague. Nothing to worry about.”
“What about the other officers?” I asked. “Have any of you gotten a sense how they feel about her?”
“They don’t hold her kingdom against her,” Tavish said flatly. “Belmonte, Armistead, and Azia were like captivated pups when they met her.”
Sven squinted, continuing to look at something out the window. “That’s all you’re worried about? If they like her?”
No. That wasn’t even half of it. Out on the veranda I had seen her eyes—they spoke as much as her words before I cut her off. I had avoided the subject on our way here by stressing that our only goal was to reach the safety of the outpost. But now we were here. Her questions were harder to avoid. I leaned forward, rubbing my temples. “No. That’s not all I’m worried about. She wants to go home.”
Sven spun back to look at me. “To Morrighan? Why would she want to do a fool thing like that?”
“She thinks she needs to warn them about the Vendan army.”
“The Komizar may have conveyed his big plans to her, but that doesn’t mean they were a reality,” Sven said. “When was anything he said not tainted by his own ambitions?” He reminded me that even some of the governors thought he had inflated his numbers.
Orrin licked his fingers. “And a few thousand soldiers can look like a hell of a lot more when you’re frightened.”
“But we’ve known for some time that their numbers were growing,” I said. “It’s what helped push us toward a marriage alliance with Morrighan.”
Sven rolled his eyes. “There were many motivations for that.”
“And numbers aren’t the same as an army with centuries of training and experience like we have,” Tavish countered. “Not to mention they no longer have a viable leader.”
Jeb frowned. “But there was that small flask of liquid Lia gave to Rafe to blow up the bridge. That’s a weapon none of the kingdoms have.”
“And it took out the main gear, which had to be twelve feet of solid iron,” I said. “It’s a worry.”
Sven sat back down. “There are not bridges on a battlefield, and brezalots can be taken down, assuming they even march. The Council members will eat one another alive long before they ever get that bridge fixed.”
Orrin reached for another chop. “You’re king. You just tell her she can’t go.”
Tavish snorted. “Tell her? You don’t just tell a girl like her that she can’t do something,” he said, then turned a long, dissecting stare at me. He shook his head. “Oh, holy hell. You already told her you’d take her there, didn’t you?”
I blew out a puff of air and looked up at the ceiling. “I may have.” I pushed back my chair and stood, pacing the room. “Yes! I did! But it was a long time ago, back at the Sanctum. I told her what she needed to hear at the moment, that we’d go back to Terravin. One day. I didn’t say when. I was just trying to give her hope.”
Sven shrugged. “So you told her what was expedient at the time.”
Tavish sucked in a slow breath. “A lie. That’s how she’ll see it.”
“It wasn’t a lie. I thought that maybe someday I’d be able to take her back there, a long time from now if things change, but for the gods’ sakes, there’s a bounty on her head now, and the Morrighese cabinet is thick with traitors. I’d be insane to let her go back.”
“She’s probably facing a noose there now,” Orrin agreed. He rubbed his neck. “Isn’t that how they execute their criminals?”
Tavish shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.”
“The girl loves you, boy,” Sven said. “Any fool can see she wants to be with you. Just tell her what you told us. She’s a girl of reason.”
Sven’s words cut the deepest. I turned away, pretending I was looking at a relic hanging on the wall. I saw her struggle every day. Some part of Venda still had its claws in her—and some part of Morrighan did too. Reason with her? It is hard to find reason when you’re being torn in two. Part of her heart was in both kingdoms and none of it was in Dalbreck.
“I heard her speaking to the clans on our last day there,” Tavish said. “That’s part of the problem too, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“The one who was hunted…” Orrin mused.
Their moods darkened. I realized they’d all heard it, and it disturbed them as much as it did me.
Sven shook his head. “That claw and vine on her shoulder is the damnedest thing. The Vendan clans seemed to have a lot of regard for it.”
“It’s all that’s left of our wedding kavah. When we first met, she said the kavah was a terrible mistake.”
Somehow, I had to make her believe that again.
Be true, my sisters and brothers,
Not like the Chimentra,
The alluring creature
With two seductive mouths.
Its words flow luxurious, like a satin ribbon,
Binding up the unwary in its silken braids.
But without ears to hear its own words,
The Chimentra is soon strangled,
Caught in the trail of its beautiful lies.
—Song of Venda
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KADEN
Lia argued with the guards posted at the door and finally pushed past them. She walked to the back of the barracks where I sat with my feet resting on the end of Griz’s cot.
The first thing she did was look at the empty bottle on the floor beside me, and the second thing was to hover over me and sniff.
Her upper lip curled. “You’re drunk.”
I shrugged. “Only half buzzed. There wasn’t much left in the bottle.”
“That bottle was for Griz. Not you.”
“Look at him. Does he look like he needs it? The surgeon’s plying him with his own special brew to keep him flat on his back. Him too,” I added, nodding toward Jeb. “The only company I have in here is their farts and snores.”
She rolled he
r eyes. “You have nothing better to do than drink red-eye?”
“Like what?”
“Anything! Go outside and get some sunshine. Explore the outpost.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, there are guards posted outside, not to mention I’ve had more than my share of the outdoors the last couple of weeks.” I lifted the bottle and let a few last drops fall on my tongue, then kicked Jeb’s foot to make sure he was completely out before I said more. “As for the outpost, I already know what it looks like. I’ve been here before.”
She looked at me, confused. “You’ve been—”
She paled, realization setting in. She pushed Jeb’s feet to the side and sat on the end of his cot, resting her face in her hands, trying to absorb this news.
“You had to know I wasn’t always hunting down princesses,” I said. “I had duties. One of them brought me here.” I told her the barest details of my visit two years ago, only one man as my target, but a key one. “If it’s any consolation, he deserved it. At least that’s what the Komizar told me.”
Deserved. The word had wormed through me all morning. The way Aster had deserved a knife in her heart? Maybe that was why I had picked up Griz’s bottle. There was no doubt that countless Vendans had died brutally at the hands of other kingdoms, and probably by the hand of the man I killed too, just as the Komizar had claimed. I had witnessed the brutalities myself. But there had to be others like Aster who were killed simply to send a message. How many of them had died by my hand?
The weight of Lia’s steady stare tore through me. I looked away, wishing the bottle of red-eye wasn’t empty. She sat quietly for a long while. Did she still believe I was a different person?
A hiss finally escaped between her teeth. She stood and began rummaging through supplies in the surgeon’s cabinet. For the first time, I noticed that the scarf she was carrying was wrapped around her hand.
“What happened?”
“Stupidity, and something that will never happen again.”
She unwrapped her hand and rinsed it in a basin, then began pulling out slivers with a tweezer.
“Here, let me,” I said.
“You?” she scoffed.
“It’s not surgery. I’m sober enough to take out a sliver.”
She sat down opposite me, and while I held her hand and worked out a sliver, she told me about Dihara and the other vagabonds being burned out.
“Natiya,” I said, shaking my head. “I knew she wanted your horse to kick out my teeth, but I never thought she’d slip you a knife. Most vagabonds know better.”
“Even vagabonds can put up with only so much. Especially young ones. She’s suffering now. She thinks it’s all her fault.”
“The Komizar must have believed you when you said you stole it. Otherwise they’d all be dead.”
“Well, isn’t that a consolation? The great, merciful Komizar!”
Her sarcasm stung. I rubbed my thumb across the top of her hand. “I’m sorry.”
Her expression turned earnest. “Is he dead, Kaden? You must have gotten a sense of something.”
I knew she was desperate for me to say yes, but I repeated what I had told her before. I didn’t know. He was badly wounded. He was weak. I’d heard some mumblings that didn’t sound hopeful for his recovery, and after that first day until we left I hadn’t heard his voice again.
Her hand relaxed in mine. It was clear she didn’t think any of those who remained in the Sanctum could manage the monumental task of leading such an army. She was probably right.
A shadow crossed the door of the barracks, and I looked up to see Tavish watching us, most particularly focused on Lia’s hand resting in mine. I let him look long and hard before I alerted Lia to his presence: “We have company.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
RAFE
I found Lia tucked up in the corner of the soldiers’ mess hall, her back to me. I uncurled my fingers, forcing them to relax. I promised myself I wouldn’t go in with accusations. I would forget it.
But no matter how I tried to block it, my encounter with Kaden in the surgeon’s bungalow pounded in my head. It was me she held on to when she needed comfort. My shoulder she wept on. Don’t be so certain of the position you now hold. It was me she slept beside every night, and trust me, she enjoyed every second of it when she kissed me. You’re only her means to an end. It was only a taunt, I told myself, that was all, and I didn’t let on that I gave it any merit. It deserved none.
The dining hall was mostly empty between meals, except for the five soldiers who sat at a table with her. I walked across the room slowly, the floor creaking beneath my boots. It immediately caught everyone’s attention. Except for Lia’s. One by one, the soldiers looked at me and laid their cards down.
Lia didn’t turn, not even when I stopped behind her stool and her hair brushed against my belt. The soldiers made to stand up, but I waved them back down.
“So, what’s your stake this time?” I asked. “Something I should be worried about?”
She lifted up a bottle of red-eye, still not turning to look at me. “Every time I lose a hand, the bottle gets passed. I’ve only had to pass it twice.” She sighed dramatically. “Colonel Bodeen really should be more careful about locking his liquor cabinet.” Her head tilted as if she was weighing a thought. “Or maybe it was locked.”
I took the bottle from her and set it in the middle of the table, then shoved the pile she had accumulated into the middle as well. “Gentlemen, enjoy your game.”
“It’s been a pleasure,” she said to her new comrades, and put her hand out for me to escort her.
Neither of us said a word until we were outside.
I turned to face her, rested my hands on her waist, and then gently kissed her. “It’s not like you to give in so easily.”
“They were nice young men but lousy players. It was only something to pass the time.”
“And taking Colonel Bodeen’s red-eye was a challenge?”
“It was a more genteel stake than the one I offered last time. I was only thinking of you.”
“Well, thank you for that. I think. What spawned this diversion?”
She eyed me with frustration. “It seemed everywhere I went to today, I needed King Jaxon’s permission to pass. First the merchant wagons outside, then trying to access the outpost wall, and finally Tavish all but threw me out of the surgeon’s bungalow—”
“What were you doing in there?”
My tone came out sharper than I meant it to, and she stepped free from the circle of my hands. “What difference does it make?”
“We need to talk.”
Her expression sobered. “About what?”
“In my tent.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
He nearly dragged me across the courtyard, and my thoughts tumbled trying to figure out what had disturbed him so. Colonel Bodeen’s red-eye? Playing an innocent game of cards? Or had something happened in his meetings today?
As soon as we were in his tent, he spun. Every muscle in his face was tight with restraint. A vein twitched at his temple.
“What is it, Rafe? Are you all right?”
He walked over to a bedside table and poured a goblet of water, swilling it back in one swallow. He offered me none. He looked at the goblet in his hand, and I feared it might shatter in his grip. He set it down carefully on the table as if it held poison.
“It’s probably not important,” he said.
I huffed a disbelieving breath. “It clearly is. Just say it.”
He turned to face me fully. There was a mountain of challenge in his stance, and I felt my shoulders bracing.
“Did you kiss him?” he asked.
I knew he could only mean Kaden. “You saw me kiss him—”
“When you were alone together in the Cam Lanteux.”
“Once.”
“You told me nothing happened.”
“Nothing did,” I answered slowly, wondering what had brought this all on. “It was a kiss, R
afe. That was all.”
“Did he force himself on you?”
“No. He did not.”
“Was it part of your escape strategy?”
“No.”
His jaw rippled with tension. “Did you … enjoy it?”
I prickled at his insinuating tone. He had no right to interrogate me as if I had committed a crime. “Yes! I did enjoy it! Do you want to hear every last detail? I was scared, Rafe. I was alone. I was tired. And I thought you were a farmer I’d never see again. You had moved on without me. I was desperate for something to hold on to, but I learned that Kaden wasn’t that something. It was one kiss in a lonely moment, and you can turn it into anything sordid that you like, but I won’t apologize for it!”
“He said he slept beside you every night.”
“On bedrolls! I also slept by Griz, Eben, and the whole smelly lot! And let’s not forget the snakes and vermin! Unfortunately there were no private rooms available at the lovely inns on our holiday route!”
He paced the floor, shaking his head, his hands still drawn into fists. “I knew when he said it he was taunting me, but then when Tavish told me he saw him holding your hand—”
“I hurt my hand, Rafe. Kaden was pulling out slivers. That is all.” I made every effort to cool my own rising temper. I knew Rafe was under tremendous strain, and it appeared Kaden had taken advantage of that. I pulled on his arm so he had to face me. “You have to make your peace with Kaden, and he with you. You are not on opposite sides anymore. Do you understand?”
He looked at me, the line of his jaw still tight with anger, but he reached out and lifted my hands. He examined the one that was scratched and red. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He pulled my hand to his lips, kissing a knuckle and lingering there, his breath warming my skin. “Please forgive me.”
I withdrew my hand. “Wait here,” I said, and headed for the tent door before he could argue. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”