“That is good to know. Now, keep your eyes on those tracks and tell me if you need to stop and rest.”
“I won’t. Come,” she said urgently, trying to spur the horse on herself. “Hurry!”
“We will, little fira, be patient.”
“Fira?” she asked as he kicked the horse into a canter.
“It means ‘fire’ where I come from.”
“Where do you come from?” she asked.
From a mountain of ice and snow.
“A long way from here. Across the great Kolla Ocean, a land called Toren. My brothers and I were born there, though I spent very little of my lifetime there.”
“Brothers? There are others?”
“Aye,” he said, his tone short and hard. She was smart enough to know he didn’t wish to discuss it further, and she wasn’t much in the mood to press. Her whole body was on fire. Waves of nausea were beginning to roll through her. She swallowed hard, pushing it down inside herself as best she could.
“Have you any sisters?”
“Not anymore,” he said. Again, his tone was hard. This strong man harbored pain over the fate of his sisters. A feeling she could understand completely.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was a very long time ago.”
“Oh. The tracks go that way,” she said, correcting his course.
“Is it just you and your sisters, then?” he asked.
“Yes. My parents died some time ago.”
“No brothers?”
“Not anymore,” she echoed him.
She expected him to ask her to explain but then realized asking the question would open him up to a similar question in return, and she had a feeling he would rather have a mouthful of sore teeth.
“So … have you a sweetheart?” he asked her after a moment.
She snorted at that. “Slaves are not allowed to have sweethearts,” she said bitterly.
“But your parents had you. Surely the masters of Kith want slaves to … to propagate.”
“They do. But they control it. They … force it. There is usually no love to be had. The women are forced to take whatever man is directed at them. It is a curse to be healthy. They think if they breed only the healthy ones they will make more healthy ones. Then they can worry less about feeding us, clothing us, and sheltering us. We’ll take care of ourselves.”
“That’s ridiculous. If one were to look on a slave as any beast of burden, one has to put care into it in order to get good work from it. My horse Draz is stabled in a warm, dry stable or a roomy paddock, it’s fed good grain, and fresh straw is laid for its bed. If I don’t do these things, the horse wears down and becomes ill, perhaps even dies.”
“Then you would make a good master,” she said, her voice unfeeling.
They rode in silence awhile longer, Sarielle pointing to lead them. Dethan and their outriders remained several lengths behind them, following wherever they went.
“Do you see them yet?” Garreth asked, his breath warm against her ear and the side of her neck as he spoke, sending hot chills skittering down her neck and spine. She was already uncomfortable from her pain, but this was a completely different kind of discomfort. She did not understand it and could not have explained it had she been asked to give it voice. Again she felt that strange heaviness in her breasts, and she felt the need to shift in the saddle.
She shook her head in response to his query, unable to speak for that moment.
It was hard to see far in spite of the moon and it was frustrating her greatly. She wanted to be able to see her sisters more than anything, which was why she said nothing about the pain and nausea that began rolling through her, chasing all other sensations away.
Until her body told the tale for her.
She suddenly vomited over the side of the horse, unable to help herself. Garreth reined in sharply, holding her tightly as she panted for breath and tried to swallow back her pain and sickness. He grabbed her chin in his fingers and pulled her back to see her face.
“I told you to tell me when you needed rest!” he snapped.
“I don’t need rest!” she insisted stubbornly. “I’m just not used to being on something that moves so much,” she lied. Quite convincingly.
“Are you able to continue?” he asked her.
“Yes! Now, please …”
He looked at her hard in the darkness, then finally spurred the horse onward. Relieved, she sat back against his chest with a quiet sigh. Her sisters were counting on her. She had to come through for them. They had no one else in the world. She had to protect them. Even if it meant trusting this odd man. This man who said he did not believe in slaves.
“I see them!” she cried suddenly.
She could. A dark shape in the distance. It had to be them. Who else would be riding in such darkness? Garreth relayed the message to Dethan.
“How are we supposed to fight that which we cannot see?” Dethan asked of them.
“The mage will be counting on that,” Sarielle agreed. “However, they must stop to rest eventually. He has to sleep at some point.”
“But if we can see them, then they will soon be able to see us. They will know they are being followed,” Garreth said.
“Then we dog their steps until they drop,” Dethan said.
“No!” Sarielle and Garreth said at the same time. She looked at him in surprise. She knew why she had said no. She was afraid they would use her sisters in some nefarious way if they thought they were trapped. But why had he said no?
“She will not last long enough for that,” he said, nodding to her. “She can barely keep the saddle as it is.”
He was right. She was finding it nearly impossible to sit upright. But she had thought she was hiding it effectively from him. He was more attuned to her than she had realized.
“I have an idea,” Garreth said. “We get ahead of them. Ride around full about them so they are coming up to us and not we to them. They will not think we are traveling from Kith, coming from the other direction. We are faster and lighter than they are. That way we can approach them without them having their guard up until the last possible moment.”
“When you’re upon them the mage’s magic will not be able to hide them any longer. Not when you know to look for them,” Sarielle said.
“Then it seems we have a plan. Let’s ride!” Dethan said, spurring his horse hard. It leapt forward. The outriders dashed off behind them.
Garreth did not hurry in their wake at first. He looked down at her. “We cannot continue like this at full speed. I am going to turn you around in the saddle so you may put your arms around me and hold on to me. It will allow you to relax against me.”
Once again his hand went to her thigh. With a firm grip, he suddenly spun her in the saddle until she was riding astride behind him now. The difference was enormous. She could lay all her weight against him, her arms wrapping around his thick chest to hold herself to him. The instant she was settled, he called to Draz and they lunged forward.
It took all of an hour to maneuver them, undetected, in front of the small caravan that was the bennesah, the mage, and three wagons laden with belongings. Just before they came within true sight of the bennesah’s caravan, Garreth handed her off to an outrider, freeing himself up for battle if and when it was necessary. He instructed the outrider to hang back, so Sarielle would not be easily seen as they approached the bennesah.
And sure enough, as they came closer, the caravan magically appeared before their eyes. Like a mirage in the desert, what had once been emptiness was now filled.
Dethan and Garreth rode up on the caravan hard and fast. They plowed into the outriders accompanying it and swords clashed. Sarielle watched Garreth swing his deadly sword with frightening accuracy. Taking off first one head and then another before the outriders finally threw down their weapons. Garreth dismounted and walked to the rear of each wagon, finding the first two full of gold and the third full of a bennesah and two small young girls.
“W
hy, great conquerors! What a delightful surprise!” the bennesah said as if they had come to visit him in his home unannounced. He held out his hands as if to calm Garreth’s wrath. “What can this great bennesah do for you?”
“You can give back the gold you have stolen from your city,” Dethan said harshly.
“And more important, these girls,” Garreth said, reaching to take first one, then the other from the wagon.
Sarielle threw herself off her horse, hitting the ground hard on her hip and backside. She cried out, but in the next instant was scrambling for her sisters. She hugged and held them, cooed gently to them, but they simply stood against her, faces turned down, eyes fixed on the ground. Their silence in the face of their sister’s grateful tears was eerie. Unsettling.
“What have you done to them?” she spat at the bennesah.
“You will watch how you speak to your bennesah, slave,” he spat back, all show of benevolence gone from him then. “You. This is all your fault. You and that weakling of a wyvern! It was supposed to be a great protector! A magnificent guardian beast! But in the end, it was nothing! It fell because you fell, you weak, sniveling girl!”
Before Garreth could stop him, the bennesah ran up to her, hand raised, ready to slap her to the ground.
“No!” she cried.
The bennesah went flying.
It was as though something plowed into the bennesah from beneath. He rose to an alarming height and then dropped like a stone to the ground, as if a beast had come and plucked him from the ground, flew away with him, then dropped him from the sky. The impact was so hard that a cloud of dust was kicked up into the darkness.
And that was the end of the bennesah. His brains had burst from his skull on impact and were spilled across the ground, his rotund body lying at odd, broken angles.
Garreth looked at Dethan, then at Sarielle.
“What did you just do? How did you do that?”
But her eyes were wide and fearful. “I-I don’t know! I’ve never … I don’t know!”
“Maybe it was the mage,” Dethan said cautiously. Garreth and Sarielle could tell he did not believe it.
“Where is the mage? He’s not here,” Garreth said.
“He must have slipped away,” Sarielle said. “I warned you he would abandon the bennesah if he felt he was in danger. I … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kill him.”
Genuine tears were filling her eyes. Garreth did not think they were necessarily tears for the bennesah. He suspected that she had never taken a life before and now was afraid of whatever it was inside her that had just done what it had done. Garreth didn’t blame her. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel some trepidation himself. And he could see the same concern in his brother’s eyes.
But all that concern washed away when Sarielle suddenly fell into a dead faint.
CHAPTER
SIX
When Sarielle awoke, it was with a softly indrawn gasp. She was in her room and daylight was streaming through the windows. She immediately looked around, searching for her sisters, and for a moment she thought she had dreamed it all.
And yet … there was no shackle on her leg. She could feel her ankle was free of the cuff that she had worn so very often in her turnings as the wrena. Ever since the bennesah and Vinqua had seen her come back from the Asdar Mountains, bearing the mark of the wrena on her body, they had known how valuable she was and had immediately chained her and kept her sisters hidden from view. She touched the mark now, a brand on the back of her shoulder, kept out of sight by her clothing.
If not for the twins, she would never have come back. She would have stayed in Koro’s nest with him, let him care for her as she had cared for him. They would have needed only each other and no one else.
But she had gone back for Jona and Isaelle, knowing they had no one else. They were the reason she had ventured out into the mountains, to make their lives better.
She sat up and her body screamed with pain. Her shoulder was better, but she was weaker overall and she had never known such consuming agony. Koro was suffering and dying. She could feel it down to their connected souls. She had to do something. Not just to save her own life but to save his. He had only tried to help her. Had only done what she had asked of him. What her master had asked of her. Poor Koro.
“I’ve been waiting for you to awaken.”
She gasped and looked to the left. Garreth was standing against the wall, his arms folded over his broad chest, his green eyes intent upon her. He was wearing black breeches, the material so tight against his skin that she could see every muscle. If not for his tunic, she was certain she would have seen far more than his muscles through that gloving material. His tunic was green with lighter green and gold woven throughout and it made his eyes jump out at her. His black hair was damp and curled at the ends, as if he had just come from a bath.
“My sisters?” she asked immediately.
“Sleeping quite soundly, I assure you.”
“Why are they not here with me?” she demanded to know.
“Because you are unwell and I did not think you wanted them to see you like this,” he said, his tone hard. “Stop expecting the worst of me. It grows tiresome.”
She realized then what he had done for her. What he had said he would do for her and had done for her. She would feel better once her sisters were by her side and within her control, but still. He had rescued them from the bennesah for her.
And now he was expecting something in return.
“He is dying,” she said softly.
“I know. I can see it in your pallor. Time is short.”
“Yes. But I do not know if I can make the journey to him.”
“The Asdar Mountains are not all that far away.”
“But deep within. In the craggy rocks. There are caves there where the wyverns make their nests.”
“Wyverns? Plural? Just how many are there?”
“I don’t know. A few. Ten at least … last time I was there, anyway. But they don’t procreate easily, so it is probably the same.”
“Why don’t they procreate easily?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“They are loners by nature, so mating is not an imperative to them. And raising young is very hard for them to do overall.”
“You know much about this?”
“I know what Koro knows. Just as he knows I am a slave.”
“Was a slave,” he corrected her.
“Was a slave,” she echoed. But clearly she still did not believe it. She was still looking for the ulterior motive to his behavior. He could see it in her wary eyes.
“So now you will take me to him?”
“How do I know—”
“You’ll just have to trust me again,” he said. “But you don’t do trust very easily, do you?”
“Why should I?” she asked, closing her eyes, relaxing and sighing through her pain.
“I suppose that’s a fair question from your perspective.” He pushed away from the wall and moved toward her. She heard the movement and opened her eyes. For a moment she caught her breath and simply watched him. She had never known a man like him before. A man of such strength and stature. His brother was bigger and taller than he was, but it was clear Garreth was the leaner and faster of the two. She had seen it in the way they had battled the outriders for her sisters. He moved definitively and with force. He was a man who always committed to what he was doing, to where he was going, at any given moment.
As he drew closer, she felt his approach on a level that seemed to penetrate her skin. It was … it was almost like the feeling she got when Koro was approaching. Her heartbeat grew stronger in her chest, her breath more powerful. She felt everything about him, even at a distance.
It unnerved her.
“Please, don’t come any closer,” she said before she could help herself.
“I thought we understood that I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I-I know. I-I just … Please. I need some time to—”
<
br /> “You’re all out of time,” he said, pushing past her protests and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I think you know that.”
“Yes,” she admitted in a whisper. “I do. I’ll … I’ll take you to him. But only because … even if you do want to kill him, he’ll die anyway. I have to take the chance that you really do want to help him.”
“I really do want to. We will bring our most talented mem with us and she will use her spiritual healing to cure the wyvern.” He paused. “What does ‘wrena’ mean exactly?”
“Well, it just means that I’m one of the wyvern blessed.”
“And how does one become wyvern blessed?” he asked, reaching to pull an errant strand of her hair free from the corner of her lips.
“That’s … a long story,” she said, fidgeting to tuck her hair back behind her ear so he wouldn’t have a reason to touch it again. But touch it he did. He ran a fingertip along her hairline at the top of her forehead, almost as though he couldn’t seem to help himself. She felt his touch sliding against her, felt it echoing into the pulse of her blood.
“I’ve never seen hair this color before, fira. It’s like your head is on fire. It’s beautiful, really.”
“Thank you,” she said on a whisper.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his tone dropping deep as his eyes fell to her mouth. He kept doing that! Why? What was so fascinating to him about her lips?
“I’m a slave. We aren’t beautiful.”
“I’ve hardly seen a woman fairer than you are,” he said. And for some reason that pleased her to no end. She felt herself blushing and cursed the reaction. What kind of game was he playing now, she wondered. What was it that he wanted from her?
And then she realized what it might be.
“No!” she cried softly just before he leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers.
She could have plucked him up and flattened him on the ground just as he had seen her do to the bennesah, but she did not. Her hands went to his shoulders, gripping him and pushing against him at the same time.