by Frost Kay
“Into what?” Rafe asked.
That was the question. Was the warlord riding a berserker so high that he didn’t feel the pain? Or was he dosing himself with some sort of draught? Either way, it made her uneasy. She rubbed her thumb along the glass bottle. “I can’t shake the feeling that he’s backing us into a corner we can’t get out of.”
Sage startled when Rafe lay his hand over her own. He pulled her left hand away and laced their fingers together.
“I’m sorry for today.”
Her brows furrowed in confusion as she looked up. “What do you mean?”
“I should have protected you.” His gaze darted to her wounded shoulder. “He could have taken you.”
“But he didn’t.” She squeezed his fingers. “You almost got yourself killed out there protecting me. You did your best.”
Rafe glanced away, his jaw clenching. “Not good enough.”
“It was good enough. We are both alive. That’s a victory in and of itself.”
They fell into silence as the healer finished caring for and dressing Sage’s wound.
Sage’s shoulders slumped as they were left alone. This was something she loved about Rafe. They could just be in each other’s company. There was no need to make conversations. It was enough that they loved and supported each other. Love. It wasn’t something she said very often, but she’d promised herself that she’d work on it.
“You know I love you, right?”
Rafe jerked and scrutinized her. “You’re not going to do something stupid, are you?”
Sage puffed out a laugh. “No.” She chuckled but sobered quickly as she studied her dear friend. “We’ve been through many hardships together in the last few years. Never doubt that I truly care for you.”
He smiled softly and leaned forward to her cheek. “I consider you my flesh and blood.” Rafe pulled back. “While things didn’t go as I expected them to, I still count myself lucky to love and have the love of such a fierce female.”
She smiled. “It’s funny how life surprises us, isn’t it?” Her gaze moved past him to Blaise, who was currently sleeping. “Do you believe there is only one destined mate for a person?”
“No.”
“I agree.” Her smile turned wistful. “We could have been happy together before the Crown captured me. And though we may have been blissfully happy, I now can’t imagine my life without Tehl.”
“He is a strong mate for you, better than I.”
Her brows raised. “Such humble words.”
“I believe there are many potential mates for every person, and while you could make each pairing work, some just suit better.” Rafe shrugged. “We would have made a powerful coupling, but you and Tehl complement each other in a way we never did.” He smiled. “You were always a queen.”
Sage rolled her eyes. “Such pretty words.” Her smile turned smug as she caught him glancing in Blaise’s direction. He’d been sniffing in the Scythian woman’s direction for some time. “Something tells me your married future isn’t far off.”
“What makes you so sure?” Rafe asked, never taking his eyes off Blaise.
“Maybe it’s the way you stare,” she said bluntly. It felt good to talk about something light.
“She hates me.”
“I hated the crown prince. Look where we are now.”
Rafe smirked. “Soon, I’ll be welcoming your fat, green-eyed babes into the world.” He chuckled. “You should see the look on your face.”
“Not anytime soon, I hope.”
“There’s only one way to control that…”
Sage blushed. “Enough,” she said gruffly. “Are you ready to go?”
He stood slowly. “I’ve been waiting on you.”
She untangled the fingers of her left hand from his and shook her head. “You always want the last word.”
“And I don’t know anyone like that at all,” he retorted.
Sage threw her head back and laughed. It felt damn good. For a few minutes, her spirit was lightened. Darkness may have surrounded her, but, when one looked closely enough, there were always glimmers of light.
Twenty
Tehl
“Fall back!” Tehl bellowed.
His battalion of men sprinted away from the burning war machine as Scythian warriors gave chase. Tehl’s arms pumped by his sides, and he changed direction when he realized a flaming stone was incoming. It slammed to the earth a mere three paces ahead of him.
Veering right, the Aermian soldiers flanked him, keeping pace as they pushed back toward their line. His breaths seemed abnormally loud in his own ears as his heart raced. Not too far to go until they made it back to safety.
The soldier on his left crashed to the ground. A spear stuck out from his back. Tehl broke stride for one second before picking up his speed. As much as it galled him to leave the man behind, there wasn’t any choice. It was war. He shut his feelings away and focused on the task. The gray clouds darkened. That wasn’t good. Either rain or snow. Neither was ideal.
“They’re gaining on us. Move!” Gav yelled, his command spurring the small group of soldiers to move faster.
No one wanted to be caught by the enemy. While they’d managed to figure out how to take down warriors without as many deaths, the Scythians had the unfair advantages of speed, strength, and heightened senses. Damn them.
The smoke wavered, and Tehl narrowed his eyes. Did he see movement ahead? He studied the terrain. Did the hill ahead conceal the enemy? No time to turn back now or even find cover.
“Arms up,” he shouted. “Be prepared.” No sooner had he given the command when enemy warriors sprung from their hiding places. Tehl raised his sword and charged forward. The wicked devils had hidden themselves in the mud. They looked like bloody swamp monsters.
Tehl’s sword crashed against an enemy sword with a clang that made his teeth rattle. He tore his dagger from his chest sheath and slashed at the Scythian’s chest. He knew there were only a few moments to get one of the monsters down before they killed him. His knife drew a bloody gash down the man’s chest. But the Scythian didn’t even blink.
Wicked hell. The warrior was already deep into the berserker rage. Tehl danced back, and the Scythian lunged, his sword high. The crown prince danced out of the way and cursed when burning pain sliced across his shoulder. He clenched his jaw and ignored the pain. The cut was minor. If it had been deep, the pain would have knocked him to his knees.
Raziel rushed in from behind and chopped at the Scythian’s bare, mud-covered back. The warriors were an arrogant lot. It was stupid to show that much skin in a battle. They were proud and it would be the end of them, he vowed. The Methian prince darted under the enemy warrior’s guard and cut him across the ribs. Tehl blinked and circled the warrior while his attention was on Raziel. So, he planned on riling the enemy.
The Methian took one step toward the Scythian when he turned to face Tehl, snarling. Tehl lunged back and then forward, his right foot connecting solidly with the warrior’s chest. It was like kicking a stone wall.
The Scythian stumbled but didn’t fall.
“Weakling,” the warrior spat. “I’ll enjoy your death.”
Tehl kept his gaze fixed on the warrior. He hadn’t kicked the enemy to knock him down. The purpose had been to rile his anger, so that he forgot that death was stalking him from behind. Raziel struck without a sound. The warrior stiffened and choked, blood dripping down his chin. Tehl nodded to the Methian prince and turned from the gruesome scene.
He knew it to be ghastly, and yet he felt nothing. No nausea, remorse, or shame. Slowly, he was becoming desensitized to it all.
Tehl waded into the fray, hardly hearing anything around him. The world surrounding the crown prince faded, and all he could focus on was the next opponent, the perfect strike point, and the safest route for escape.
His sword bit into the flesh of his newest foe and he watched, completely unfazed, as life drained from the man’s gaze. He released the warrior and lifte
d his own head, once again scanning his battalion, searching for who needed help.
The hair at the nape of his neck rose as he caught sight of Gavriel battling a warrior who looked to be twice his size. For the first time all day, he felt something.
Terror.
His cousin was sweating and fighting with everything he had. Tehl dug his toes into the ground and pushed forward, racing toward the duel. Gav couldn’t see it, but the Scythian was toying with him. Tehl cut through the swathe, his heart pounding. Only a little farther. If he could reach them, then it would be a fair fight.
Snow fell from the sky, big heavy flakes like someone had cut a feather pillow and dumped it from above. The Scythian swept Gav’s feet out from under him, and a cry stuck in Tehl’s throat. The enemy slammed his boot down on Gavriel’s ankle and then stabbed his spear into his left thigh. His cousin screamed in pain but never dropped his sword. The Scythian pulled a short blade from his waist and leaned closer to finish the job.
Tehl’s focus homed in on the enemy who’d wounded his cousin. Gav wildly slashed his sword at the enemy, managing to hit the warrior in the chest. The man bellowed and lifted his blade, his attention locked in on Gavriel.
The crown prince smiled darkly, sprinting the last few steps. The warrior spun in time to see his death coming. Tehl drove his sword into the Scythian’s chest. The warrior teetered for a moment and then crashed backward, taking Tehl with him. The crown prince rolled away and held out his dagger in case the warrior wasn’t truly gone. He’d seen some of the warriors stabbed over ten times and still they kept fighting until they died of blood loss. It was like something out of a horror story.
This time, the Scythian didn’t rise.
Tehl retrieved his blade quickly and turned to his cousin, dropping to his knees. Gav panted, his face creased with pain.
“How bad is it?” Gavriel gasped.
Tehl knelt and eyed Gav’s wound. He carefully slipped his left hand under his cousin’s leg and gritted his teeth. The warrior had stabbed him clean through the leg, pinning him to the ground.
Bloody hell.
“That bad?” Gav wheezed, sweat dripping down his brow and cheek.
Tehl didn’t want to tell him. He unbuckled his cousin’s belt and yanked it out from beneath him, not daring to look Gav in the eye as he formed a tourniquet around the top part of his left thigh.
“Just tell me. I already know my ankle is broken.”
Tehl cinched the belt to stop the blood flow and met Gavriel’s purple gaze, his heart in his throat. “The spear went clear through and into the earth. He pinned you.”
Emotions raced across Gav’s face too fast for Tehl to read before his expression melted into determination. “You must leave me.”
No.
Raziel appeared on his right side, and a loose ring of soldiers formed around Gavriel.
“How bad is it?” the Methian prince barked.
“He’s stuck.”
Raziel cursed and dropped to his knees. He inspected the damage and probed the wound from below. “I think we can get the spear out of the ground, but we can’t remove it here.” Or he’ll die, was the implication.
Tehl eyed the six-foot-long spear. They’d need to cut the staff down to mobilize him. His gaze darted to Gav’s pale face. “We’ll need to cut the spear before we move you as well. Prepare yourself,” he muttered grimly.
A soldier to the right stepped closer and held out part of his shirt that he’d ripped away. “Bandages for our commander.”
Tehl nodded gratefully as another handed him his belt. Wordlessly, he placed the leather strip between Gav’s teeth. He stared at his cousin and touched his forehead to Gavriel’s.
“You have a little girl at home. Don’t you die on her. Hold on to Isa.”
Gav nodded, and Tehl forced himself to place both of his hands on the spear. Raziel pulled a serrated blade from the sheath at his thigh and solemnly asked, “Are you ready?”
Tehl nodded, holding the spear steady. When Gavriel’s purple gaze focused on the Methian prince, Tehl pulled with all his might. Gav’s body arched, and he screamed once, before passing out as he pulled the spear from the ground. The crown prince released the spear and pressed the linen against the bleeding wound. Raziel knelt and began sawing the shaft of the spear off.
“It’s a blessing he’s unconscious for this.”
“Let’s pray that it stays that way,” Tehl murmured.
They had a long way to go to get back to camp. Anything could go wrong in that time.
Twenty-One
Sage
Sage burst into the infirmary tent, startling two healers. “Where is Gavriel Ramses?”
“The rear room, my lady,” the older healer rasped.
She brushed by them without thanks, her legs shaking with adrenaline. News had spread fast through camp when their commander had returned hurt. How bad was it?
“Hold him down!” Queen Osir commanded Rafe and Raziel.
Sage rushed through the tent flap and into the commotion. People scurried about the room everywhere, but she ignored all of them when she spotted Gavriel. He lay on his right side with a spear pierced through his thigh. Tehl stood at the foot of the bed, cutting Gav’s leather boot from his now-very-swollen ankle.
Stars above. Queasiness rolled through her, and she pressed a clammy hand to her forehead. Blood had never bothered her in the past, but the longer she was exposed to grisly scenes, the worse it got.
Get yourself together. This is Gav.
Swallowing her saliva, she pressed forward. Gav’s glassy, purple eyes wildly searched the room. She stepped into his line of sight and smiled warmly at him. He froze and held out a trembling hand.
“It’s okay,” Sage crooned and dropped to her knees, both hands wrapping around his remarkably cool one. “You’ll be all right.”
“Hurtzzzz,” he slurred through cracked lips.
“I know.” She brushed her fingers along his heated brow and drew patterns on his cheeks. Her gaze caught the flash of Mira pulling scalpels from boiling water, and her belly flipped. Gav tried to look over his shoulder, but she released his hand and cupped the back of his neck. Scooting a little closer, she leaned her cheek against the cot and stroked his damp, dirty black locks.
“I’m not going to make it,” he croaked.
“Don’t talk like that.” She mustered up the most reassuring smile she could. Not many would survive a wound such as this, but if anyone could do it, it would be Gavriel. “Soon this will all be over.”
“Isa…”
“Isa will be so happy to see you when you’re recovered. Just think how impressed she will be with your scars. I bet she’ll ask you to show it to all the ladies in court.”
“How scandalized they’ll be when I start to unbuckle my pants,” he gasped.
Sage laughed at the little spark of deviousness she spotted in his eyes. “They’ve been pining after you for years. I bet they’ll take it as an invitation.”
He nodded, but his gaze dimmed.
No, no, no, no. That wasn’t good.
“Don’t let him fall asleep!” Mira barked.
Sage removed her hand from behind Gavriel’s head and pressed her fingertips into the hollows of his cheeks and pulled back. She shook him roughly. “None of that, my friend.”
His head lolled, but his attention was once more focused on her face. She tipped her head to the side and shrugged her shoulder so the linen shirt slipped away from her neck, revealing the ropy scar around her neck. “Do you remember when Isa saw this for the first time?”
“She asked if a leviathan hurt you,” he whispered.
“She did. Thankfully, Lilja was in the room.”
Gav wheezed out a short laugh. “She really got a close view of a leviathan bite.”
“We’re ready,” Queen Osir announced. “Anyone who is not assisting, get out!”
Sage watched the soldiers file out, and then turned her attention back to Gav. A familiar hand set
tled on her shoulder. She glanced up at Tehl, and her heart ached for the fear and pain naked on his face. He was covered in blood and muck. It was like he’d bathed in it.
“Are you assisting?” she asked.
He nodded and squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you, wife, for sitting with him.”
She smiled and turned back to Gavriel, who watched them.
“I miss that,” Gav murmured.
What was left of her heart shattered into a million pieces at his confession. “We love you, Gav. You’re not alone.”
Sage brushed an inky strand from his cheek.
Raziel and Rafe moved to the bottom of the bed as Zachael and Tehl moved to the top. When had Zachael arrived?
“The pain will soon be over.” She leaned closer and made sure her face was all he could see. “I know you miss your wife, but your death won’t bring her back. You have a little girl waiting for you to come home. This will be your hardest fight yet. I need you to give it your all. Can you do that for Isa?”
Gav nodded.
She squeezed his right hand as Tehl wrapped his hands around Gav’s bicep and placed a knee on the cot to hold his cousin in place. Zachael helped pin Gav to the cot from the other side. Mira stepped around Gavriel and placed a thick strip of leather against his lips. He let her work the leather between his top and bottom teeth.
Strong lye soap and heated metal teased Sage’s nose. She swallowed thickly and prayed that she wouldn’t puke or pass out.
“You can squeeze my hand as hard as you need to.”
Gav nodded, his fingers tightening a fraction.
“On the count of three. One, two…”
They never made it to three, because Queen Osir grabbed the head of the spear and yanked.
Sage leaned her forehead against her knees and closed her eyes. It felt like weights had been attached to her lashes. Sweat collected uncomfortably beneath her half corset, and her hair stuck to her neck and face. She rolled her neck and rested her cheek on her kneecap, watching as Mira stoked the woodstove in the corner of the canvas tent. More bloody heat. While she understood Gav needed to stay warm, she desperately wanted to cut a hole in the tent and let in some of the cold night air.