Champion's Bond (Twin Curse Book 2)

by Rinelle Grey

  “A chicken?” she repeated. “A goat? Are you crazy?” Jasyn had been working on this for three months, and he hadn’t thought to mention it to her until now?

  “Do you want to come and see?”

  Kriss stood up immediately. “Show me.”

  She followed Jasyn out of the tent and through the camp. His pace didn’t slow as they left the boundary of the camp behind and went on into the forest of pine trees that stretched for several miles.

  The fact that he could keep up this brisk pace was a sign that his fitness had improved considerably.

  Ahead of her, Jasyn stepped behind a rocky outcrop and Kriss hurried to catch up with him.

  When she saw what was around the corner, she bit back a gasp.

  In a clearing in the forest, neatly bounded by a makeshift wooden fence, greenery sprouted everywhere. The colour was at odds with the muddy ground and the bare trees around it. It wasn’t even truly spring yet. How did they manage to make all this stuff grow?

  As she took in the sight, she noticed several trolls walking through the area. Some held tools, a spade or a hoe, but several stood at the corners, furrows of concentration on their brows. They were the ones using magic to achieve this.

  But how were they doing it? She didn’t know enough about magic to guess, until she stepped inside the fence. Immediately, the cold faded away and she felt like shedding a couple of layers. It was far warmer here than the area over the ridge ever achieved, even in the middle of summer. They weren’t directly using magic to grow the crops, but instead using it to warm the area.

  The area remained warm, even though all the mages appeared to stop concentrating to stare at her. Their nervous expressions indicated that they expected censure.

  Was she really that scary?

  Well, that was her job. Sort of.

  But she didn’t feel the least bit of anger, even though Jasyn had hidden this from her all these months. It was amazing. Unbelievable! If they could grow food…

  She turned to Jasyn. “How hard is this? Do you think we could grow enough food this way to feed everyone?”

  “Perhaps,” Jasyn said cautiously. “We’re still in the early stages of experimentation. We can’t grow all the things the humans grow over the ridge. We can’t warm enough ground to grow wheat, for example, so we’re going to need to learn to eat differently. Potatoes, though, grow really well. The lower temperature means the pests that plague them over the ridge aren’t a problem. Tomatoes and strawberries seem suited to the climate too, as well as many types of greens. It will be an adjustment for those who are used to eating meat and bread, but if we supplement what we grow with hunting, I believe we can do it.”

  Kriss shook her head. It was all so hard to believe. “Why haven’t you said anything about this until now?”

  Jasyn hesitated. “I said you would support it, but the others weren’t so sure. They’re used to Mugos, and the champion before him. All of them have been magically weak and more than one champion has tried to disband our magic circle, afraid that magical power might be used against them.”

  Of course. Mugos had always been openly dismissive of magical ability. Now she could see that his reaction was more than dismissive. He’d been afraid of it, and when he was afraid of something, he attacked it.

  Luckily, she wasn’t like that.

  “I may be magically weak, but I can see that this could make a huge difference to us. You can all be assured of my full support.” She looked around at the faces of the mages. She barely recognised any of them. Mages and warriors had always lived separate lives with very little crossover. Well, that would have to change. “What can I do to help?”

  Jasyn smiled and slipped his hand into hers, giving it a squeeze. “I knew you’d like it.”

  Of course she liked it. And the fact that it had been created almost entirely of magic was even more amazing to her. She couldn’t wait to see it all.

  Eagerly, Jasyn pulled her through the little paths winding between the garden beds. “What we really need is more mages. The others have been working in long shifts, because someone needs to be here to keep the plants warm all day and throughout the night. It takes a lot of dedication. If we had more people, we’d be able to have shorter shifts, and maybe even expand the area. The bigger the garden, the more food we can grow.”

  “Of course,” Kriss agreed. “But I’m not sure how many more mages we have in the camp. Doesn’t everyone who has strong magical power already come to your circle meetings?”

  Jasyn stopped beside a bush of flowers, their scent filling Kriss’s nostrils. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Every single troll in the camp has magic of some sort. Some are stronger than others, but even the weakest would be able to help with the garden in short shifts. It doesn’t take much power, just a little training.”

  Kriss stared at him. “Even me?”

  Jasyn laughed. “Seriously? You have to ask that?”

  Kriss turned away. “I wouldn’t be asking if I knew, would I?”

  Her words came out harsher than she’d intended, but as Jasyn pulled her around to look at him, his expression softened anyway. “Your magic is quite powerful, Kriss. You’d be a match for almost any mage here.”

  Kriss shook her head immediately, trying to ignore the flash of disappointment, echoing that moment in childhood. “The old troll in the tent next to us wanted to teach me when I was little, but my mother said it was a waste of time My magic is weak, not worth training.”

  Jasyn exchanged a look with the troll next to him, then turned to her. “Your mother lied to you, Kriss. I don’t know why, but she made that up. You’re probably one of the more powerful mages here in the camp.”

  Why was he trying to convince her of something she knew wasn’t true? Surely he didn’t think she was going to believe him? What reason did her mother have to lie to her?

  She swore. Silly question. Magic was looked down upon in the troll camp. Mages were weak. Both her parents had been strong warriors and her father had died fighting the humans when Kriss was still little. Of course her mother didn’t want her to train as a mage. It would have been an embarrassment.

  That meant Jasyn could be telling the truth. Was it really possible that she was a powerful mage?

  The idea was so strange and foreign that she couldn’t quite take it in. Kriss shook her head. She’d think about this later, after the wedding, and after the raid. Right now though, there was one thing she could do.

  “Write up a roster of everyone you think is capable of helping you in the garden, and I’ll see to it that they turn up and do their part,” she said.

  Surprise and excitement dawned on the faces of the mages. They exchanged happy looks. “I’ll have it done immediately,” one of them said to her, inclining his head. “And thank you. You won’t regret this.”

  7

  A Wedding

  Kriss tried to sit still and not grimace while Bekinda meticulously oiled and re-plaited each braid, fastening them with blue beads and bells. Kriss bit her bottom lip. She’d been the one to insist that she and Jasyn needed a large wedding with the entire troll camp invited. It was fitting, for marrying co-champions.

  That didn’t mean she looked forward to being the centre of attention.

  In fact, it all seemed a little surreal. Long ago she’d vowed never to get married, afraid that the bond would weaken her. She was terrified of her own life being dependent on the continued survival of another. Especially one as weak as Jasyn.

  And yet here she was.

  “Sit still.” Bekinda firmly pinned feathers on the top of her head.

  Kriss was sure her friend was deliberately sticking each pin deeply into her scalp. But it couldn’t feel any more painful than the rest of this day. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about tonight, and every time she did, a tingle of anticipation and dread swept through her. The feeling was far too pleasant to be comfortable.
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  The sound of shuffling feet outside the tent signalled a welcome interruption.

  “Don’t move,” Bekinda ordered and went to the tent flap.

  Kriss muttered something under her breath.

  “You can’t see her now, the ceremony is in a few hours. She’s not ready.”

  Short of a full scale human invasion, Kriss was sure Bekinda wouldn’t let anyone in. She was a stickler for tradition.

  “Then can you give her this,” Jasyn said in a low voice.

  Kriss’s heart beat a little faster and she had the urge to turn around in her seat and sneak a peek at her future husband. Only the fear of Bekinda’s wrath if she disturbed the half plaited braids kept her still.

  “I’ll give it to her, but I can’t promise she’ll carry it,” Bekinda warned. “It may not go with her dress.”

  Oh hell, he’d brought flowers. She hadn’t expected that.

  The tradition was an old one and one that hadn’t been practiced among the warriors for years. The idea of giving flowers in a land of ice and snow had always been a little crazy. The thought behind them, that searching for and collecting the bunch proved a prospective spouses devotion, had merit, and it was considered an extremely romantic gesture.

  It was also foolhardy, and had killed more than a few unprepared trolls. That’s why Mugos had strictly discouraged it in the last few years. Why risk your life on something as pointless as flowers, when there were humans to fight?

  Trust Jasyn to decide to resurrect it.

  Accepting them was the equivalent of her proclaiming to the entire camp that she loved him.

  “Jasyn brought these for you.” There was a new respect in Bekinda’s eyes as she held out the beautiful bouquet of flowers.

  As soon as she saw them, Kriss recognised the blue flowers that had sprung up unplanted in Jasyn’s garden. Troll’s hope, he had called them. And she’d just shrugged at the time. Flowers were largely useless. You couldn’t even eat them.

  Now she realised that they could be a symbol. A symbol of having time and energy for more than just subsistence. And perhaps even a symbol that magic could achieve anything physical strength could.

  She drew in a breath as she took them from Bekinda, burying her nose in the flowers and inhaling the scent. Large blue troll’s hope made up the majority of the bunch, with smaller white snowbells scattered throughout. Ferns were arranged around the edge, tying it all together neatly.

  It went perfectly with her dress.

  “You know, when you first announced your engagement to him, I thought you’d lost your mind,” Bekinda said. “But I’m beginning to see what you see in him. He doesn’t happen to have a sweet friend, does he?”

  Kriss stared at her friend. After Pyrol had died, Bekinda had sworn that she wouldn’t get involved again. But it had been more than a year, perhaps the pain of the loss had eased.

  Kriss knew she wouldn’t ever be able to get over a loss like that. It was one more reason why she needed to keep her distance from Jasyn, no matter how sweet he was.

  “His friend’s already married, sorry,” she said distractedly. “Now what am I supposed to do? I didn’t know he was going to do this.”

  “If you really do love him, then the answer is obvious.”

  Kriss looked at her sharply. Bekinda’s face was turned away, fussing over the blue dress hanging on its hook, but that didn’t fool her. Bekinda was fishing, trying to figure out if Kriss was serious about Jasyn or if there was something else going on.

  She and Jasyn worked well together as co-champions, and together they could achieve far more than she could have done alone. She admired his courage in standing up for what he believed in, and his determination to see it through. But she didn’t love him. Not like that.

  But at this point, that didn’t matter. These flowers were part of the elaborate ruse they’d created. Really, she had no choice about carrying them. They sent just the message they were after.

  But what sort of a message would it send to Jasyn?

  *****

  Jasyn stood beside Uma, trying not to fidget. Surely Kriss would be here soon? How long did it take to get ready anyway?

  The entire camp stood in a huge circle branching out on either side of him and Uma. Jasyn kept his eyes focused on the empty space on the opposite side, where Kriss and Bekinda would appear.

  If they came.

  Perhaps it had been a mistake to send her the flowers. He'd seen them when he was checking on the garden that morning, and they'd reminded him of her. He'd picked the flowers without thinking. Mugos might have discouraged them, but he wasn't in control anymore. Since they were pretending to be in love, a flower token would be expected.

  He had the perfect excuse for giving them to her.

  She would think they were part of the ruse. It wouldn’t occur to her that it would be special to him, to see her holding the bouquet. It was silly of him to pretend, even in his head, that this was anything more than a marriage of convenience. But he couldn’t shake the faint hope that if she got to know him, she might come to feel something for him.

  A faint tinkle of bells interrupted his thoughts. A few heads turned towards the entrance. Soon, everyone was looking.

  Jasyn held his breath.

  Would she be carrying the flowers?

  Kriss appeared in the gap, looking beautiful in a sky blue dress that complimented her green skin. What looked like hundreds of tiny braids fell around her face, fastened with tiny blue beads.

  And in her hands, she held his flowers.

  Jasyn's eyes met hers and he tried to tone down the expression of excitement he was sure wreathed his face. It might help their ruse, but it wouldn't help his standing with Kriss.

  But she smiled back at him, her expression as radiant as his.

  Pretending. She was pretending. He needed to remember that.

  She took her position in the circle and a wave of raised swords radiated out from where she stood. Even the young children held wooden practice swords. The trolls began to chant and the sound ran along Jasyn’s veins, his pulse drumming in time, until his whole body tingled.

  When the chant stopped on an abrupt and discordant note, each troll threw their swords into the middle of the circle. They clattered over each other, forming a tangle that covered the ground with a bare space in the middle. Jasyn searched the pattern, looking for the way through.

  On the other side of the circle, Kriss handed her flowers to Bekinda and took her first step into the ring, carefully picking a space between the blades.

  The chanting started up again, lower this time. Trolls slapped their thighs in time with the chant.

  Jasyn took a deep breath and followed her example, taking step after step through the maze of blades, careful not to touch any. Touching a sword was a bad omen on the marriage and he didn't want that.

  Despite the fact that accuracy and precision were important, Jasyn couldn't help looking up at Kriss every few paces. Her eyes were focused on the swords and her steps were quick and sure. She was closer to the centre than he was. Jasyn bit back a laugh. Well, he hardly thought the fact that she would be the dominant one in this relationship would come as a surprise to anyone in the crowd.

  But there was a reason he was her co-champion—his magic. He needed to demonstrate that he was bringing something to the partnership as well.

  But how? Touching the swords was frowned upon, so he couldn't magically rearrange them. How else could it help him?

  Kriss was only a few steps away from the centre now, he had to think fast.

  Using his magic, he created a pathway of air, just above the swords, invisible, so no one but him could see it. He took a step up onto the invisible pathway, and the chanting petered out. He walked easily towards the centre, amid the gasps of the surrounding trolls, to meet Kriss as she stepped in.

  To all observers, they arrived at exactly the same moment.

  There was a stunned silence. Kriss gave him a smile. She, at least, wasn't upset
by his alteration of the ritual.

  Jasyn spared a glance around the circle. Were the other trolls upset? Not that it really mattered. Since he and Kriss were the champions, their opinion was the only one that was relevant.

  He couldn't detect more than a few looks of disapproval, but even they were quickly smoothed into cheerful expressions. Except Mugos. He scowled openly at Jasyn. Well, he didn't expect him to be happy.

  Kriss took his hand and held it up. Together they recited the words of the ceremony, promising their lifelong love and devotion to each other.

  And then it was done. The trolls picked up their swords and surrounded the newlywed couple, escorting them to the feast that was laid out in the main tent.

  As Jasyn stepped inside, hand in hand with Kriss, he couldn't help but think how much had changed since he'd last entered this tent for a feast. Then, he had been frustrated and annoyed at the unfairness of the troll hierarchy and their obsession with fighting. Now, he was in a position to make some changes.

  And he was married to Kriss.

  Never in a thousand years had he dreamed something like this might happen.

  He stole a glance at his bride as she sat beside him, piling her plate with potatoes from the first harvest of their garden. He’d never seen her in a dress before. He didn’t know she owned one.

  The sky blue outfit completely transformed her appearance.

  She still looked ready for battle at a moment’s notice, the muscles in her arms taut. But the colour of the dress, the soft material, and the way it revealed more skin all added a feminine touch.

  As if he needed more reasons to be attracted to her.

  It should have felt normal to be this attracted to his wife. Pity their marriage was a sham.

  Still, he was lucky to have that. He had been a nobody. He would never have had a chance with Kriss if he hadn’t spoken up at that celebration and put his foot in his mouth several times. It was quite ironic, really.

  He heaped his own plate with food, marvelling that the vegetables were tender and full of taste. He searched the room for Uma and Yass. They sat near the edge of the tent, even though he had offered to seat them closer to the champion’s table. Neither of them wanted to be the centre of attention. And besides, with newborn twins, they preferred to be close to the exit.