The War Priest

by Ann Aguirre

  The way Callum regarded the beautiful woman was rather different, though. Sort of tentative and gentle, as if he didn’t know precisely how he ought to behave. Joss took the respite their exchange offered to study her surroundings. This was her first visit to Burnt Amber, and she hadn’t known precisely what to expect coming in. Not to mention, the ride had been rough as hell with the Golgoth troops chasing them, and she hadn’t seen much while jolting around the back of the Rover.

  Like Ash Valley, Burnt Amber had protective walls, but unlike her home, they hadn’t been shaped via masonry. No, this was more like the giant stones had been set by some ancient earth god, arranged upright to protect the oblong space within, affixed through heat, not mortar, as though the edges had fused with unimaginable volcanic force. The stone itself was dark, like basalt, but it was also marbled with shades of umber and gold.

  I understand now why they call this place Burnt Amber.

  On some level, the beauty spoke to her, whispering of barely tamed spaces and the same wildness that had always whispered in her blood. As for the buildings that made up the inside of the hold, they were stark and imposing, shaped from the same rock that formed the walls. Frescoes were carved above the doors and windows, stylized scenes that she couldn’t interpret from this distance, though she wanted to look closer.

  Moving would draw Callum’s wrath down on her sooner, though, so Joss stayed quiet. There was a withered garden on one side of the hold, large enough that it likely supplied everyone who lived here. Here, she could imagine they existed in a land untouched by time. There were no signs of any of the mines or security tech that Burnt Amber was famous for, and she couldn’t spot any wires or cables that would power the imposing structures. Others came out of nearby buildings to form a welcoming party, but they didn’t interrupt Callum either.

  “You didn’t hesitate to blame this on me, I notice.” The flirtatious bear, Garven, stepped softly to her side, canting his head with a teasing smile.

  “Not true. I merely stated a fact.”

  “One that will get me in trouble with that bearded devil,” he muttered. “But I expect you’ll entertain me enough that I won’t regret it.”

  Joss narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “With your music,” he clarified. “That’s what you promised, isn’t it? Songs to lighten our grim and weary hearts.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She didn’t especially want to talk about her impulsive decision to volunteer a concert for people who probably had much bigger concerns. “This may seem like a silly question, but you do have electricity here?”

  Garven followed her glance to the gabled roofs. “You can’t see them from this vantage, but we acquire significant power from solar panels. The lines between buildings are buried. The clan chief didn’t want a lot of modern nonsense mucking up a perfectly foreboding aspect.”

  “I think it’s lovely,” she said sincerely.

  “Truly? Ash Valley is much more modern. Burnt Amber is like a medieval town in comparison.”

  Joss grinned. “No, that would be Daruvar.”

  Garven offered an easy smile in response. “Fair point. You want to meet some of the others? Callum will be busy with Renna for a while. She’s trying, but she finds him…” Garven grimaced, as if he couldn’t find the right word and settled on, “Difficult.”

  “Who is she?” She probably shouldn’t indulge her curiosity, but she was fascinated by the beautiful woman who made Callum look so conflicted, impatient and gentle at the same time.

  Garven leaned in close, as if to impart some gossip, and that sharpened her interest to absurd levels. “She’s the one Beren was trying to bond with before he died. He’d long wanted a direct heir, not his sister’s son, but it never worked out with his first mate.”

  She’d known that Beren was a widower. “It seems that Callum doesn’t quite know what to make of her.”

  “True enough. She’s not quite his relation, but not exactly a stranger either. And I suppose it’s no news to you that he’s no patience with delicate situations.”

  “When you have only a hammer, all problems look like a nail,” she suggested.

  Garven laughed. “Just so. You’re as witty as you are pretty, fair one.”

  That was a charming compliment, and she smiled to acknowledge that, but Garven didn’t make her heart quicken. Nobody had, no matter how kind or charming they were, until she saw Callum McRae at the first conclave. She tried not to watch him surreptitiously because that was a bit creepy, but it was tough. Her eyes kept skating back in his direction, until she made a point of turning her back.

  Don’t watch him. Don’t be pathetic. You’re not here for him. You’re here to lift the soldiers’ spirits. That’s all.

  “You said something about meeting the others?” she prompted.

  Garven introduced her around to those who had accompanied Callum to Daruvar. Most of the names and faces slid away, but she did recognize the two women who had accused her of eavesdropping in the courtyard at Daruvar. Emilia was the taller one, broadly built with a ruddy face and orange hair while Trini was small, compact, and dark-skinned with pretty braids and bright brown eyes.

  “I hope you’re worth the scolding we get over this,” Trini said, laughing.

  Smiling, Joss made small talk, silently wishing she had a heavier coat. Though it was spring, it wasn’t exactly warm. None of the bears seemed to mind.

  Against her volition, her gaze went to Callum, and she saw the precise moment when he recalled her existence, for his entire countenance darkened, and he leveled a hard stare in her direction, then he came at her like a storm. The crowd parted for him on two sides, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Apart from Garven, Trini, and Emilia, nobody had acknowledged or greeted her. It seemed that Callum ruled with an iron fist, or at the least, they feared displeasing him.

  “You can’t be here,” he snapped.

  “Yet I am here. From my observations, departure will not be an option until the Golgoth are defeated.” A rumble of support came from the bears milling nearby, as if her pronouncement heartened them. Encouraged, she went on, “You might as well be a good host and give me a tour, for I’m not going anywhere.”

  Callum had no parameters for responding to such an ultimatum.

  In the order, people respected authority. They followed the rules. And here in the hold, most were terrified of him, stemming from his thunderous appearance if not for anything he’d actually done. They lived in fear of him erupting in a ferocious rage, but what they didn’t understand? He’d joined the damned order to get that part of himself in check and he’d succeeded too.

  Now he had a fearless little lynx glaring at him with green eyes snapping sparks, and everyone was waiting to see if he’d tolerate such behavior. Only she wasn’t part of his hold, and he didn’t have the right to demand respect from her. Hell, Ash Valley wasn’t even allied with Burnt Amber anymore, so he’d look a right and proper ass if he started shouting about the deference due to him.

  All too conscious of their audience, he managed not to react to the provocation of her tone, which must be intentional. Callum clenched his jaw and spoke with difficulty. “That is certainly true enough, but I’ve little experience being gracious, so brace for disappointment.”

  “Your best is always good enough,” she said in such a gentle tone that her voice hit him strange and sideways, like a club to the back of his head.

  Though she was pretty in a delicate, feline way, it was her voice that always sent him running in the other direction. From the first time he heard her sing, he’d known that the sirens of legend did indeed exist, and they must sound precisely like Jocelyn Bristow. He’d been tempted enough to find out about her, learn her name, and the denizens of Ash Valley had whispered stories, filled his ears with tales of her wildness, and he couldn’t allow that curiosity to flourish. Callum had to stamp it out with ruthless vigilance. Otherwise, curiosity might sink its roots in, growing into the deliciously poiso
nous flower of fascination. If he let it happen, he could find himself in that fearful place again, knowing only desire and obsession.

  Aware he was staring at her, he snapped, “A pretty fable.” He beckoned Joss, speaking over his shoulder as he stomped off. “The rest of you, disperse. You’ll hear the songbird soon enough.” To her, he added, “Come along then!”

  If they whispered about his loss of authority, they didn’t do so until he left earshot at least. His shoulders fell and once more, all he wanted was to return to the comforting routine of life at the monastery: oat porridge, devotions, manual labor, lighting candles, meditations, weekly spiritual debate. Once a month, the brothers hunted in their shifted forms for meat necessary to survive.

  Nothing about his new life was routine or comforting, and he didn’t know how long he could keep his temper in check. To make matters worse, he knew people feared him. They needed wisdom, comfort, and reassurance, not the constant pressure of fearing that a single misstep might set him off like an imperfect homemade explosive device.

  “Burnt Amber is incredible,” she said then.

  Oddly, she appeared to mean it, gazing about with genuine interest. And it seemed as if his brooding silence made no impact on her either. They had passed several buildings without him telling her what anything was or where they were headed, yet she didn’t object to that, either.

  What the hell is wrong with this woman?

  “That’s the recreational facility,” he informed her. “Workout rooms, communal bathhouse with sauna and steam, an indoor running track, as in the winter, it’s almost impossible to move around outside.”

  “I’ve heard that it gets so cold here that it’s hard to breathe.”

  “True. That’s why we built the tunnels that connect all the buildings.” He pointed. “That one houses all the shops. Nothing too sophisticated, so don’t get your hopes up. There’s also a couple of restaurants. You can speak to the owner about performing in the larger space. I’m sure Nayan will welcome the boost to her business.” Grimly he continued the tour. “Unlike Ash Valley, we don’t have private bathing facilities. In the rooms, there’s a half bath and after what happened at the conclave…” He hesitated, aware that she might feel guilty about his next words. “We have plenty of room.”

  So many good people died in Ash Valley. So senseless. Damn that bastard Talfayen. At first, when Callum initially heard the news, he blamed the cats too, but when he saw the devastation with his own eyes, he couldn’t hold onto that blame. The cats had suffered more than the rest of the Animari, though with the Gols trying to take down the defensive grid, Burnt Amber was up next.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He cut her a sharp, surprised look. Normally, people couldn’t gauge his mood well at all, but she was locked onto his inner turmoil like it was written in a language only she could read. “For what?”

  “Everyone and everything you lost.”

  Callum cleared his throat, conscious of a terrible tickle when he tried to breathe. She was the first person who’d realized that he grieved for all of it—the loss of life, certainly, but the loss of his life in particular. Now he was the damned head of Burnt Amber whether he liked it or not, and most days, he assuredly did not.

  “You don’t need to apologize. The cats didn’t take a damned thing from me,” he muttered.

  “Just as well that I wasn’t apologizing per se, let alone speaking for my whole pride. I was expressing support. It’s been a while since you had any, I guess.”

  That was entirely too personal—and accurate—an observation. Dammit, running away from her was the safe move. This woman was a heart-seeking missile, and simply by existing, she imperiled his poise. With bleak resolve, he silenced the treacherous voice that whispered how sweet it was to be seen, after all these years.

  “That’s the end of the tour. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying until…” Well, there was no telling how long she’d be stranded here, and that boded ill for his peace of mind.

  Damn Garven anyway. Callum had half a mind to knock him through a wall, but he was trying to live down a bad reputation and he’d done a fair job of it since joining the order. People clearly had long memories, though.

  Joss bit her lip, drawing his reluctant gaze to her mouth. Surely such tiny temptations were intentional, but damned if he would let her make a game of him. Resolutely, he looked away from her lips and locked his eyes on hers.

  “I appreciate it. You mentioned the shops… will I be able to use my Ash Valley accounts here?”

  “Normally, yes, but we’ve suspended all network transactions due to wartime exigency. There have been numerous Gol attempts at wireless incursion,” he explained. “And if they get inside our firewall, they’ll take down the grid.”

  “Sorry if I ought to know already, but what exactly is your defensive grid?”

  “Mines and lasers mainly.” It was a bit more complex but he saw no reason to get more specific when she was visibly shivering.

  He almost gave her his coat. His hands were on the buttons when he rejected that idea with a fierce, bewildered shake of his head. She can warm up inside. She doesn’t need to wear your clothes. More to the point, it would be disastrous if he saw her in them; that would create all sorts of mental images that he didn’t need.

  “Come inside. If you have more questions, ask them later.”

  Callum hurried inside and up one flight of stairs. He was used to the dim light, but it was quite different from Ash Valley, more cavelike, and he supposed that was appropriate. While Burnt Amber bears didn’t hibernate like their wild counterparts, they could tolerate the cold better than the cats. It took all his self-control not to warm Joss up, to pull her against him and offer the one thing he had in abundance—blazing body heat. Instead, he opened the door and gestured.

  She stepped past him into the cozy room with worn furniture. It had been cleaned since the tragedy at Ash Valley. All the soldier’s personal belongings had been cleared away, leaving it ready for the next occupant. Callum tried to imagine how it struck her, but he had no idea. When she turned, she was smiling.

  “Thank you. I’ll be comfortable here. My main issue is, I don’t have anything else to wear, and with no way to access my own accounts—.”

  “While you’re here, you’re under my protection,” he cut in. “And I’ll take care of all your needs.”

  When her eyes widened, Callum realized how that sounded.

  3.

  Joss refrained from teasing Callum because she knew damn well that he didn’t mean to be suggestive. She stayed quiet while he fumbled to amend his initial statement, bright color blazing on the part of his cheeks visible above his beard.

  “That is, you can put anything you need on my account.”

  “I appreciate that,” she said gently. “We’ll talk about reimbursement later.”

  “The only thing left is to explain our meal customs, I suppose. There are family units with a kitchen, but I didn’t think you’d want to eat in isolation. Most single people prefer the cafeteria, but there’s a restaurant you can patronize as well. It’s a bit more expensive.”

  “That would require more resources than I have at present.”

  “I’m sure Nayan will throw in a meal as part of your compensation. At any rate, I’ll leave such negotiations up to you. I’ll add you to my account at the cafeteria as well, so you can eat whenever you like.”

  “Any set hours for meals?” she asked.

  The way Callum hovered at the door, it seemed as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. She wanted to invite him to sit down because he looked frayed to the point of exhaustion, but he’d resisted all overtures toward friendship so far. He’d probably take simple kindness as some intricate plot aimed at allurement, as he seemed to view her as some inveterate seductress.

  “Generally, breakfast is from six to ten in the morning, though if you come later, I’m sure they’ll still fix you a plate. Lunch is served from noon to thr
ee. Then dinner runs from five to eight. There’s always a selection of snacks available, even if hot food service is closed.”

  Before he could leave in a rush, she spotted a kettle on the sideboard, along with a pair of mugs and a selection of tea in a little basket. Most likely, he would refuse, but it would be polite to ask, right? He had said he had no experience being gracious but so far, he had been kinder and more patient than she’d earned with her impulsive behavior.

  “It’s been a long day. Do you have time for a cup of tea before you have to get back to work?” She smiled at him, already knowing that he’d snap a refusal and dart out the door like the room contained all hell’s devils.

  Instead, a quiet sigh slid out of him. “What do you expect to gain from fraternizing with me?”

  Joss blinked. “Nothing. I just thought you might be tired.”

  “I am, truly. You have no idea.”

  That honesty surprised both of them, and she didn’t know who was more startled when he stepped away from the door and let himself fall into the overstuffed chair near the hearth. But she pretended as if this was going just as she’d foreseen and turned her back to make their drinks, filling the kettle in the half bath he’d mentioned and flipping the switch to heat the water. Then, once those tasks were tended, she stole a glance at Callum, who was sprawled like he might never get up. Brawny arms resting on the padded sides of the chair. He’d tilted his head back and was staring up at the ceiling like he didn’t know what he was doing here.

  But Joss might have some idea. She set the steaming mug on the table to his right and carried hers across to the small sofa. He’d chosen the chair to keep her at a distance, but she wasn’t trying to take more than he could give. At this point, even exchanging a few words with him filled her absurd heart with sparkling delight.

  “With anyone else, there’s expectation,” she said quietly. “Some hope or fear to hang on you. They’ll be after progress or promises or reassurance. When you need to put that down, even for a moment, you can come here. I won’t talk to you if you don’t wish it. I’ll just make you a cup of tea and let you be.”