by M. A. Roth
***
One chair sits in the center of the room, and I help Mirium sit Carew on it. He isn’t tied, as he isn’t fit to move. The door opens and Tristan, Morrick, Draco and Musa enter. When I see Musa, all I can see is red.
As if sensing it, Mirium holds my arm. “Easy, Sarajane,” he whispers audibly enough for only me to hear.
Morrick shakes his head. “Why I am not surprised to see you in the middle of this?” Morrick’s words would normally annoy me but I can’t look away from Musa. I just want to kill Musa. I glance away as I try so hard to control my temper.
Draco takes in Carew’s appearance. “He put up a fight?” he directs his question to Orio, who glances at Musa before answering. An unspoken understanding passes between both men.
“He took out four of our men, sir.”
My mouth falls open. “I took out your men,” I say loudly and with as much conviction as I can muster.
Draco looks at me with a gleam in his eye, a warning to be quiet.
“He is a murderer and was exiled to the mountains for his crimes,” Musa speaks up. What lies he spouts and so easily.
I turn to Morrick. “Please… he is innocent. I can feel it, Morrick.” I can’t explain how I know, I just do.
“This is ridiculous.” Musa looks annoyed.
“Do you not believe in the gifts that God has given to me, Musa?” I question. They have been telling me from day one how gifted I am. So this is not something they can fob off, and by the looks on Musa’s face I know I am winning.
Carew moves and looks up slowly, catching my eye. Thank God he’s awake. Musa turns at Carew’s movement, a sneer on his face. “Ah, I see he has fooled you, Sarajane.” Musa comes over and lays his hands on my shoulders that I want to break, but I keep still. “I understand what you mean by feelings for him.”
I try to control my temper, seeing how he is twisting my words. Morrick looks annoyed; Tristan looks fit to kill Carew. I try to compose myself and give Musa a friendly smile that turns into a small laugh. “Oh Musa, exiles are not my type. You seemed to have mistaken what I am saying. When I said I felt, I meant his soul.” My smile drops and I turn away from Musa’s sour face toward Morrick. “Let him join us; he could fight with us.”
Before Morrick can answer, I approach Carew.
Tristan unsheathes his sword.
“Will you join us?” I ask, as my eyes plead for a yes.
“Have you any idea why he is here?” Tristan questions me, with a look of bewilderment on his face.
“It does not matter, Tristan.”
“Of course it matters. Well, let me tell you. He was sent here to capture you and now you want him to join us. So what, he can just take you as you sleep?” Tristan spins away. “King Morrick, she will die if we allow this.”
“You have my word, I will not harm her.” I turn at the sound of Carew’s voice and smile with pure relief.
“Okay,” I say as my heart continues to crash against my chest.
“Okay? Okay? His word means nothing!” Tristan roars, sticking me to the spot.
“I stand beside Tristan,” Musa announces.
He must have poisoned them with lies about Carew. “Morrick, please, he gave his word!”
Morrick’s eyes sadden. “I am sorry, but I won’t risk you.”
Tears fill my eyes. “What… that’s it? No trial. You can’t.” Tears spill over. I wipe at them roughly.
“Mirium.”
“Sarajane, don’t,” Carew says.
I turn back to him; he looks resigned. I kneel down and take his face in my hands, his eyes are a chocolate brown.
“Thank you for your kindness, but you have done enough.”
I shake my head in denial as more tears fell. “No, you can’t give up, Carew.” Panic starts to rise inside me. This isn’t right.
Carew rubs my cheek with his thumb and smiles through his pain. “Thank you for saving me.”
More tears stream down my face. “How can you say that when I sent you to your death?”
“You saved my soul.” Carew smiles again, his hand falling away, all the energy dwindles away. I can see the young boy to whom so many wrongs were done. The young man who was exiled for no crime he had committed and the young man who was taken from his sister.
“Take him.” Draco speaks gently. I swallow my sob and rise as they take him. I feel empty at watching an innocent man go to his death.
“Sarajane.”
I look at Tristan and feel hate for him. “Don’t, Tristan. Just don’t.” I turn my back on them. I would not run from this, not this time. “When will he be murdered?” I ask.
“Sarajane, he is a criminal,” Musa announces.
He is good at putting on a show, but I know how bad Musa is.
“Stop with your lies, Musa. Poisoning people’s minds. I can…”
“Enough!” Morrick’s roar silences me and the room.
I’m breathing heavily, my heart races with the feeling of helplessness.
“Musa, Draco… could you please give us a moment?”
Draco leaves and Musa gives me a sad smile, as if I have lost my mind. Morrick pats him on the shoulder as he walks past. I want to throttle him.
“Sit down, Sarajane.” Morrick points at the chair where Carew once sat.
“I don’t know how you know Carew,” Morrick speaks and I start to respond, but Morrick silences me with a look. “Or what lies he has fed you. But this has got to stop. You have insulted Musa, made me look bad in front of Draco. What do you think they will talk about? Oh yes, the King who can’t even control his own daughter.” Morrick’s voice rises on the last sentence. He takes a few deep breaths. “So you will stop this behavior and apologize to Musa and never insult a leader like that again.”
My eyes widen in disbelief. “Now you try to act like my father. Well, the answer is no. No. No. Musa killed Carew’s parents.”
Morrick shakes his head. “Orio!”
Orio approaches with another soldier in tow. “Take her to one of the guest room’s upstairs and guard her door; she is not to leave.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I am going to Avitus’, that’s where I am staying.”
The soldiers grab an arm each. I don’t fight. There is no point.
***
I pace the room with frustration. The door opens and Tristan walks in. I pick up a candle holder beside me and send it sailing at him, but he dodges it and reaches me before I can grab anything else. He holds me with my back against his chest, his hands circle around me so I can’t move. I hate how my body betrays me in this moment. How aware it is of Tristan. I hate his smell, I hate how I am bending.
“Let me go now, Tristan.”
“No, calm down.”
“I am calm,” I say, practically snarling.
“No, you’re not.”
I kick and scream, throwing my head back, hoping to hit him in the face, but his iron grip keeps me in place.
After several minutes of being frantic, my emotions come bursting to the surface and I cry. Tristan turns me around and pulls me back into his chest. I try to push him away but he won’t let me go. So I take comfort in his arms as he holds me.
He leans his head in on top of mine. “I love you so much,” he says.
This makes me cry more. I lean back so I can see his face. “He is innocent.”
Tristan’s nose flares, but he remains where he is. “Am I not enough for you?”
“What? Of course you are!” I lay my hand on his fast beating heart.
“Then let him go.” Tristan’s voice fills with pain.
He must think I love Carew. “An innocent man will go to his death because you are jealous of something that isn’t real.”
Tristan takes my face in his hands. “I saw the way he looked at you and the way you look at him.” He lets me go, raking his hand through his hair. “What do you want from me?” he asks angrily.
“I want you to trust my judgment, and to believe me. I do no
t love him, Tristan. I love you.”
“He is dangerous,” Tristan argues.
We are wasting time. “Yes, but he has saved me so many times.”
Tristan cuts me a look. “And put you in harm’s way as well.”
“That does not mean he should die.” I feel so frustrated. “If you love me as much as you say you do, then stop this. Don’t let him die.” I turn away, feeling the injustice of my words.
Tristan storms from the room, leaving me alone again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SARAJANE
It takes a few hours before I’m taken out of my misery. I am not one to bite my nails, but I have none left, and the inside of my mouth is sore from chewing. I stand still as Tristan comes in, closing the door slowly behind him.
This isn’t good.
He sits on the edge of the bed and pats the empty space beside him. I sit down slowly, my heart pounding to fast in my chest.
Please God, tell me he isn’t dead.
“I need you to listen and understand what I am going to say,” Tristan says as he stares at me.
I nod placing my hand over my heart, in fear it might come out through my chest.
“I love you, but if you ever use it against me, that’s it, Sarajane.”
My face burns with shame. I know I haven’t been fair to him.
“He is fine.” His nose flares as he speaks.
I want to throw myself into his arms, but think better of it. “Thank you.” I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much.”
“He will work with us.”
I smile with joy at this.
“This does not mean I trust him,” Tristan says, his voice growing with anger.
I don’t want to fight with anyone I love anymore. I am sick of it. So I do what I know will stop this. I lean in and press my lips against his. It’s an unfair advantage, but he stares at me for a second before he closes his eyes and returns the kiss with a want I match. Tristan’s hands rise and he grips my face as he lowers me onto the bed, my stomach tenses and squirms at the closeness of our bodies. Tristan breaks the kiss and stares down at me.
“Orio returned a dagger; he said it was yours. It has a beautiful design on it. Where did you get it?” Tristan asks while his eyes roam my face.
My hands rest on his chest and over his beating heart. I know it is important that I start to be honest with him. So I tell him everything. He grins when I tell him I had stabbed Carew with it. A playful shove to his chest makes him stop grinning.
He rises and pulls me up into a sitting position. “You really put yourself in harm’s way.” He shakes his head in dismay. “Someone is watching over you.”
I liked to think it’s my dad, but I don’t say as much.
A knock to the door brings reality back. My heart leaps out of my chest. I slowly make my way to the locked door.
“Yes?” I say.
It’s Orio. “King Morrick requests your company.”
“Okay,” I reply and wait to hear receding footsteps, but Orio is still there. He clears his throat. “And Tristan’s.”
“Thank you, Orio.”
“You’re welcome.” I can hear the laughter in his voice. My gaze meet Tristan’s and he doesn’t look alarmed. He rises off the bed and places a soft kiss on my lips before leaving.
I wait ten minutes and then follow. I wasn’t sure if there was much point in us hiding our relationship. I think everyone knew but just pretended not to see it.
My face flushes when Orio smirks at me as I pass him. Idiot!
Everyone is there: Morrick, Marcella, Draco, Mirium, Tristan and Musa, who I glare at. He returns my gaze with a pretend smile. They all sat around a table discussing their battle tactics. My heart lifts when I meet Carew’s gaze. I sit at the only empty chair beside Morrick.
“Thank you for joining us, Sarajane,” Morrick says bitterly. So he’s pissed that I had changed Tristan’s mind, or maybe he knows bout me and Tristan? Color rises in my cheeks.
Morrick turns his head away and addresses us all. I sit up and listen. So far, the news is good. Aquaterra’s warriors have arrived. Musa bows his head slightly in gratitude as if he has personally carried every one of them on his back over the mountains and delivered them here with a red bow tied around their necks. I glower at him throughout the meeting.
So we are stable for the moment. The bad news is that we are leaving Humus in two weeks through the tunnels, to start our journey to Saskia, so I can destroy Lucian. I swallow when I hear that, my palms become slick with sweat. This is what it is all building up to. So tomorrow I will start training in my fighting skills in the afternoon with Tristan, and the evenings with Avitus, practicing magic.
Before closing the meeting, Morrick introduces Carew. I watch Musa’s face. He doesn’t bother to hide his disgust.
“Carew has now joined our mission. We voted on it and the majority voted yes.” Morrick gives me a stern look; my conflict with Tristan has changed everything. “Marcella has agreed to take personal responsibility of Carew.”
Marcella nods sternly, her erratic behavior thrown to the wind.
Morrick looks around the table to make sure we all understand. When he is happy that we do, we are dismissed.
I don’t go to Carew, as too many eyes are watching. Marcella leads him gently from the room, taking care not to hit his bandaged shoulder.
Tristan walks beside me as we leave, his arm brushing mine as we walk. I look up and smile at him and he returns it. My heart hammers in my chest. He has never shown his feelings publicly, and by Musa’s and Morrick’s faces, he shouldn’t have.
I move away from him, not wanting to cause any trouble, but he startles me by grabbing my arm. “It’s okay, you have nothing to fear,” he says for all to hear.
Morrick’s face twists with disgust and Musa smirks at us. Draco moves past us, vacating the room. I don’t blame him; Morrick appears fit to kill.
“Musa, could you excuse us for a moment?” Morrick speaks through tight lips.
Musa nods respectfully to Morrick. “Of course Morrick,” Musa says, but as he passes, he throws an evil smirk my way.
Once the door clicks shut, Morrick lets loose. “What is this, Tristan?”
Tristan holds his chin high and stands firmly beside me. I feel ill. “I am in love with your daughter, Morrick.”
Morrick shakes his head and gives a smart laugh. “You don’t love her,” he says while pointing at me. “You are in love with what she is.”
My face grows red with anger. How dare he.
Tristan’s jaw tightens. But he keeps his voice level. “I said, I love Sarajane.” Tristan takes my hand in his for extra emphasis, not that there is any need.
Morrick walks away while rubbing his face and then comes abruptly back to us. “You know you can’t stay with her if you want to be king.” Morrick smiles as if he has won; his eyes dare Tristan to contradict him.
When I look up at Tristan, I can see the sadness in his eyes. “I won’t give her up and if that means not being king, so be it.”
“You stupid, stupid, ungrateful boy! After all, I have done for you, this is how you repay me.” Veins bulge in Morrick’s neck and forehead. I have never seen him like this before.
Then he does the worst thing ever; he strikes Tristan across the jaw with all his force, taking him to his knees.
“How dare you!” I scream up at him, while helping Tristan stand.
“Shut up and be quiet, Sarajane!” Morrick roars.
“Or what, Morrick? Hmm. What will you do? Hit me?” I hope he does, so I can retaliate.
“That’s it, you know now,” Tristan speaks, trying to keep his voice calm while rubbing his jaw.
Morrick shakes his head at Tristan, then turns to me with nothing but hatred on his face. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Morrick, that’s enough.” Tristan silences him.
Morrick walks away, but I am still at boiling point, so I shout after him, “The only thing
I am ashamed of is sharing your DNA!”
The door slams, leaving me and Tristan alone.
“He is a good man, Sarajane. He means well.”
I look at Tristan in bewilderment. “Were you not here when he just hit you and screamed at us?”
Tristan sits down slowly at the table we all had just vacated. “I expected no less from him. My wounds will fade, but his won’t. His whole life he has spent training me to be King and now I am willing to walk away from it.”
I sit down, taking his hands in mine. “Are you sure you thought this through?” I ask, hoping he is positive.
The look in his eyes tells me he isn’t sure. “I want to be king. But I want you.” He kisses my hand gently. “But I can only hope that both will be mine.”
“I hope so too, Tristan.” I kiss him gently on his jaw; it is swelling already, but it will heal quickly.
***
The next day, my training starts. Tristan leads me an old derelict barn that seems to be used for training. A large crowd fills it. They are all training against each other; the smell of sweat smothers me. It looks like Alana and I are the only girls here; a few men throw sneers our way. Tristan ignores them and sets the backpack down on the ground against the wall.
“Alana you will warm-up with Sarajane first. I’ll watch.”
I tie up my hair without saying a word and pick up my wooden sword. A few muted insults come my way from the other men.
“No weapons, Sarajane… fist to fist.”
“Me, fist fight?” I would have laughed, except for Tristan’s cold stare.
I take my place in the center of the barn; they have a ring circled in white powder. Once you crossed the line, the fight is on. Laughter and jeering sound from the crowd as Alana and I cross the white line. I already feel humiliated; the only thing I can do is pull hair or scratch, and that will have them keeling over in laughter.
I catch a figure from the corner of my eye. Carew stands at the back and gives me a nod, his way of giving me his vote of confidence. Just great. Now everyone can watch me be beaten.
“Fight!” Tristan roars, and the noise of the men fills the air, startling me.
Alana has me on the ground with a punch before I know what’s happening. I rub my jaw in shock. Alana looks anything but apologetic; she is here to win. Over my dead body. I jump up and throw the best punch I can muster, pushing all my force into it. Just as I reach Alana, she swings out of the way, kicking the back of my legs, sending me down with a thud, face-first into the sand.