She fell onto a root, hitting the side of her abdomen. Biting back against the sharp pain, she pulled herself up just in time to hear Luc’s warning cry.
The tree…was not a tree.
A large hand came up to grab her. She dodged, dropping low and striking with the sword. She hit the hairy arm, watching in morbid fascination as black blood bubbled from the wound even as her blade struggled to cut through the hard flesh. She saw its other arm reaching for her and kicked away to give herself room to strike again.
The almost-suffocating, acrid smell of smoke was coming straight from the creature. It made Roena’s movements seem slow and lazy. She wondered if it was just her perception. She stabbed the creature a second time, grunting with satisfaction when she heard it groan.
She saw it grab a tree as it attempted to shake Roena off and lift it from its roots.
She pulled the sword out again and dodged for the ditch behind the creature just as it began to smash through the forest with its makeshift club. Luc had the good sense not to confront it head-on and dashed to her a moment later. “They brought it here. They actually brought it here themselves,” he breathed.
“We’d suspected as much, didn’t we?”
“To see it with my own eyes…” He stiffened as the surrounding trees began to shook.
“No time to talk,” Roena murmured. “We have to fell this one, too.”
“Easier said than done,” Luc hissed. “There’s just two of us.”
“You killed one by yourself.”
“I was lucky.”
“Well, hope your luck lasts us a little longer. Just follow my lead.”
“Roena…!”
She scampered deeper into the thicket.
A tributary of the river ran under the eastern wall. Roena vaguely remembered one of her tutors droning on about it in the past. She sucked in her breath as she caught sight of it in the distance, where the land dipped down and the trees cleared. It was a lot narrower than she envisioned, but she didn’t have time to second-guess herself now. She made straight for the bridge that spanned a portion of the stream.
Back in the days when her grandfather was attempting to tame these woods, they spoke of the Blackwood Gap—an innocuous-looking trickle of water that hid a chasm underneath. The workers didn’t even think they needed a bridge until they’d lost several men to the slippery rocks and the depths of the still water. More were lost while building the bridge itself, but it spoke a lot of Gred Blackwood’s ambitions that he thought such sacrifices were necessary. If Roena had been anything like her fathers, she would’ve already been making plans on how to reclaim these lands, especially now that she knew that the dangers were all a sham.
But she didn’t care for such things. Her mind had tapered to the pounding in her chest, the exhiliration, even as terror threatened to consume her. Laughter wouldn’t even be enough to capture her feelings at that point. She reached the middle of the bridge and then, sword in hand, turned to face the beast that lumbered after her.
She could see it now—the great, yellow eyes, half-covered under curls of thick black hair. It was muscled from head to toe, hairy, naked, with a rotund belly that spilled over its wilted cock. Tree-like bark covered parts of its skin like splotches.
It hefted the tree in its hand and took a swing.
“You’re too far away, you asshole,” she crooned. “Come on, now. Come. That’s it.” She stepped back, daring the creature to follow her.
“You know what it’ll do to you if it catches you?” a voice called out to her.
She felt her blood run cold as she turned around and saw Jona across the bridge. He grinned, crossing his bare arms.
“You—”
“It’ll rip you apart while it fucks you,” Jona said. “Won’t even have time to enjoy it.”
She gritted her teeth. She was trapped between the creature and Jona.
“What’s the matter, girl?” Jona called out. “Did I ruin your little plan? Or are you so scared of little old me that you’d rather take your chances with that?”
The creature began to draw dangerously close. Perhaps it was just the angle, but its cock looked like it was stiffening as the wind brushed over it. It was beyond unsettling.
“Fuck,” Roena murmured. She readied her sword.
From the corner of her eyes, she saw Luc appear at the far end of the stream. She thought that he was going to charge the creature. And then she saw that he had sheathed his sword and realized he meant to cross the gap.
She screamed.
~~~
Luc jumped. He slipped just as his boots hit the first mossy rock on the other side. He managed to grab the rocks, but the lower half of his body dropped into the water. He tried to pull himself up and realized the water was sucking him in.
Panicking, he dug his fingers deeper into the wet moss. He tried to kick out, but he couldn’t even feel his own feet. He heard Roena calling for him. “Don’t let go!” she was crying. “The water—you’ll never be able to swim out of there!”
He wouldn’t have believed her if he wasn’t struggling against the current already. He managed to pull himself up by a hair’s-breadth, but as he reached forward, he saw a boot near his hand.
He looked up into Jona’s sneering face.
“What do we have here?” the man asked, almost innocently. “Why, it’s Lucky! Or should we call you Unlucky, now? Funny how names change like that.” He bent down on one knee. “Your father, for example. I called him Maggot Bait for a while, there. He really didn’t like it.”
Luc roared, reaching for his foot. Rocks splashed around him as his body fell deeper into the water, but he managed to grab Jona’s sole.
The man didn’t even look frazzled. “Pathetic. But I suppose I can’t blame you. Like father, like son. Crawling around the living room with his guts out, begging for mercy. ‘Spare my family’, he said. ‘Ohhh, spare them.’ I had to kick him once in a while, make him stop. Gods, but he was just as irritating as you.”
“You fucking piece of—”
“I told him to thank you,” Jona said, peering down at him. “I said this was all because of you, that if I found each and every one of your pathetic little family I’d kill them just because you were stupid enough to cross me.”
“Luc!” Roena called. He could hear the ground shaking as the creature drew closer.
He tried to pull himself up with his other hand. Jona stepped on it. “And then,” Jona continued, oblivious to everything else. “He actually asked about you. He wanted to know how you were doing. So I told him the truth. I said ‘That son of yours is a disgrace. He’s off raping and pillaging like the best of us. If the guards ever catch him, he’ll hang.’ You should’ve seen the look on his face, Lucky! You should’ve seen him crying for you as he died!”
Luc screamed. Laughing, Jona tore his hand from his boot and kicked him off the bank. He fell into the stream.
Water swirled over him as he found himself in the inky depths. Even as he knew it was useless, he tried to kick against the current, trying to reach the surface even as he felt it swirling around him. His head smashed into a rock. Light spilled into his vision.
Somehow, he found himself back at home, staring at the dead goats.
“Don’t you worry,” Jak was saying beside him. “We’ll find something. There’s always something.”
“How could you say that, Da?” he asked. “It’s all gone. Everything we’ve worked so hard for…”
“Shhh.” He felt his father’s hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine, Luc. It’s fine. Be crying over it now if you want, my love. No one said you couldn’t, yeah? Just remember to breathe between the tears. Just remember to breathe.”
Luc opened his eyes.
Something splashed in the water beside him. Something heavy. He found himself slamming into the creature’s hairy leg as it attempted to cross the gap, felt fingers wrap around him as it lifted him straight from the water and toward its mouth.
Breathe.
He drew his sword and sank it into the creature’s gaping maw. It roared and tried to fling him off. He managed to hold on before watching in horror as the creature sank deeper into the stream. One of its legs was trapped between the chasm, which was breaking underneath its weight.
Below, he saw Roena strike it across the breast from the bridge.
Luc managed to get his sword back and made his way to the back of the beast’s shoulders. It was sinking fast. “To me!” Roena cried. “Jump now, Luc!”
He jumped, reaching the edge of the bridge just as the creature’s shoulders were swallowed by the black water. Roena managed to grab him, hauling him back onto solid ground. “You fucking idiot,” she hissed.
He had no time to retort. Jona was coming towards them, sword drawn. His amused expression was gone.
Chapter Twenty-One
“I’ll take care of this,” Roena said.
“No,” Luc murmured, wiping the blood off his face. “You were the one who said I had to avenge my father. You go and save yours.”
“Stop being such a damned martyr.”
“You two lovebirds make me sick,” Jona spat. “You’ll both be dead before this night is over. Why does it matter who goes first?”
Roena smiled, making a circle around him. She saw Jona glance at her first. So. He knew who to be more careful of. “You’re that confident you can take both of us at the same time?” Roena asked. “My, you’re a lot dumber than I thought you were.”
Jona returned her smile. “I could say the same thing about you, princess. What are you doing with this whelp? You’re Blackwood’s heir. Not too long from now and you could be enjoying all that money, with a real man besides.”
Roena was silent for a moment, pretending to think. “Oh,” she eventually said. “Did you mean you?” She laughed.
That must’ve irked him more than she thought it would, because there was rage on his face as he rushed towards her. Amazingly simple, some of these men. Against his brute force, she was nothing, but she could use that against him. She dodged his first blow easily enough, nicking him in the ankle before she stepped back again.
“You’re a quick little minx, aren’t you,” he snarled.
“And you’re out of shape. You wonder why I was willing to take chances with the creature? Nothing worse than a man who gets winded after a minute or two.”
“You bitch—”
Luc was on him before he could get another word in, one cut across the shoulder. He turned momentarily, striking once to drive him back, and then decided that Roena was the better target after all. He came for her, both hands on the handle of his blade which looked large enough to cleave her in two if she just stopped for a moment to give it a chance.
Not that she meant to. She met his blows, knowing the whole time that it wouldn’t last. His strikes came hard and a lot, lot faster than she wanted to give him credit for. She couldn’t remember the last time she had sparred with an opponent who had both strength and speed. She had to grudgingly admit to herself that she was now fighting for her life.
Why? A fleeting thought. And then another, less fleeting…why not?
Was she alive when she was locked up in her room, hiding from her father’s words? Or in court, pretending to laugh with the rest of them while her insides felt like screaming at everyone for their indifference and pretensions? Friendships forged by convenience, by what one had to gain instead of whatever this was she had with Luc. With Hana. Even Jona’s intentions, at the very least, was startlingly clear. She had never known that before. It was like a breath of fresh air after years spent in choking fumes.
She dodged another blow, and almost cried out in glee when Jona’s blade sank into the soft ground behind her. They had somehow made it across the bridge. “You crazy bitch,” Jona repeated. “You think this is going to save your father? He’ll be dead by now.”
“You underestimate him. You really think Iorwin will fall that fast? He was quite the swordsman in his youth.”
“In his youth,” Jona repeated, grinning. “When the fuck was that? Like fifty years ago?” There was a cut on his cheek. Roena couldn’t even remember striking him there. Perhaps she was doing better than she thought, except…
Her arms were getting tired. She saw Luc hovering at the edge of her vision, waiting for an opening. He wouldn’t even last a fraction of the time she had.
“What’s the matter, princess?” Jona continued. “Having second thoughts?”
She realized he could see her exhaustion. She spat to the side. “I was thinking which part of the battlements I’ll decorate with your head. I want the birds to shit all over it.”
He lunged. The next blow was so strong that her sword slipped from her fingers, clattering to the ground. Laughing, Jona grabbed her by the neck. Her senses swirled as his fingers dug into her windpipe. “Oh, sweet girl,” he whispered. He started saying something else, but his words were losing meaning as blackness began to set in.
~~~
Luc rushed at Jona, forcing him to drop Roena to defend himself. He was a little slower than when he first started—Roena had worn him out enough to take the edge off his speed. He also looked like he was favouring his left side.
Not that these meant much in the long run. Luc was bruised from head-to-toe from his time in the gap, which meant he was even slower. And he didn’t know how Roena did it, but the one time he was able to block Jona’s strike, it felt like his tendons would shatter at the impact.
He saw Jona’s grin widen. The big man began to increase his assault, battering at his sword enough that Luc realized he wasn’t trying to kill him—not yet. He was toying with him. He wanted Luc helpless and bleeding on the ground before the night was over, begging, broken.
“What did I ever do to you?” he called out.
Jona didn’t answer. The light in his eyes—Luc had seen it before. It was madness, but not quite yet. A touch of helplessness, of desperation, almost like the look in the villager’s face back in Toskthar. But it couldn’t be. What did Luc have over him to make him feel that way? Taking pleasure from someone else’s pain wasn’t a concept he was familiar with.
He found himself at the edge of the bank. Jona was driving him back to the gap. With Luc a step away from the slippery rocks, he suddenly lifted his sword over his head, as if to give him the choice of getting cut in half or jumping to his death.
A rock smashed against Jona’s head. The sword came down barely past Luc’s ear, clattering on the hard ground. The blade splintered into several pieces.
Luc leaped to the side as Jona attempted to grab him, holding the broken sword like a dagger. He kicked out, catching Jona by the jaw, and watched in horror as the man tumbled into the stream. It was now his turn to hang onto the bank for his life, snarling, mad eyes boring a hole straight into Luc. He backed away.
“Kill the fucker,” Roena gasped behind him. She was the one who had thrown the rock. “Now’s your chance. He deserves this for what he did to your father. Do it now, Luc!”
But the fight had taken it all out of him. He watched Jona’s fingers dig into the rocks, his face bleeding, twisted with the rage Luc knew he ought to feel himself. He heard footsteps and saw Roena stiffen, holding her sword aloft.
“She’s right,” Luc heard the ka-eng say. “Why don’t you?”
He turned to the sisters as they appeared from behind the trees.
“Humans are always so interesting,” one said, smiling at him. The first sister, the one with the crooked ears. “Gleaning so much from so little to try to—I don’t know. Make sense of it all?”
“When we brought the first beast to Toskthar, for example,” the other added. “When they realized they couldn’t fight it, they fed and worshipped it. So odd, so unexpected. We thought they would run in fear. That they would abandon their village to seek better pastures. They didn’t.”
“And you find this all very amusing, do you?” Luc asked.
The first sister touched his arm. Her fingers w
ere cold. “Amusing. Sad.”
The second sister pointed at Jona. “Look at him. He killed your father, he says. Brags about it. Why not put him out of his misery? Unless…” And here, she smiled, staring at Jona while a blue glow surrounded her hands. It hovered over her skin for a moment before slowly making its way to where the man dangled off the bank for dear life. He roared, attempting to strike the glow out of the way, but his clenched fist only went through it.
The glow landed on his head. The second sister’s eyes flashed. “I see,” the ka-eng murmured, after a moment. “Oh, I see…yes. You’re afraid of turning into him. And well you should be! A Gorenten, just like you…”
“He’s not—” Luc started, glancing at Jona. His skin was a lot lighter, but it was still a step darker than the typical Hafed’s, and his nose…
“A half-Gorenten,” the second sister explained. “Born to a whore in Tilarthan. Who knows who his father was? Does it matter? Bereft of his own people, a stranger in his own home. He knows these things just as well as you do.”
“Truly?” the first sister asked. “Let me see.” She reached out to grab her sister’s hand. The glow travelled back into her. “Oh, that’s…”
“You wouldn’t think a man like that would’ve been born to a woman like that,” the second sister said. “Not someone so kind and generous, who would use her own body to shield her boy from the blows. Who knows why they did it? Because she was different? Because they could? ‘The bruises won’t show on my skin,’ she would tell him when it was all done. ‘Better me than you.’ They called her an angel, even the men who used her, so dark and beautiful…”
“Stop,” Luc said.
“Why?” the first ka-eng asked. “I thought you knew. Had an idea, at least, that sometimes all it takes is one step to cross that threshold of madness.”
“You don’t even have to make it yourself,” the second sister continued. “Sometimes, you’re pushed. And you fight against it. Like you’re doing now. Like he did. Who truly wants this? Who wants to be alone, fighting for your life in despair when you could be safe at home in front of a warm fire with a family who loves you? He didn’t. When his mother fell ill, he became a man-for-hire like you. The easiest decision he’s ever had to make. No one else would take him. So he did things against his will, killed when they asked him to kill, took what he could when they wouldn’t pay him right. It didn’t matter. His mother died, anyway, died coughing her lungs out not even an hour after she was raped senselessly in the alley by a man who didn’t want to spend the coin. They wrapped her body in rags and threw her out into the sea—he had to spend a fortune to find and fish her out.”
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