A Single Spark

by Tayvia Pierce

  I brought some food and water, setting his dinner on the small table nearby before extending my hands for him to take. I knew the look on his face, resentful at needing any help at all, yet grateful for it. I slowly pulled him into a sitting position, moving behind him to prop him up a little more.

  He reached carefully to take the loaf, tearing a bite off with his teeth and leaving the stew to cool. He glanced up to me as he chewed, watching my face intently until he could demand. “Where did you go?” It might have been a question, but he said it like a statement.

  “I went out for fresh air and then to Lund to get a few things.” I told him, watching him bristle at the idea of me going alone. “I met a healer who is going to come by in a few days to check you over. Nothing serious, I just thought having a professional making sure that you are alright and that I didn’t do any permanent damage to you.” I tilted my chin up slightly, trying to look less guilty than I felt.

  Ben’s eyes were hard as he stared at me, clearly unhappy at the prospect of a healer coming by. “No.” He grunts. “No healers.” He reached for the bowl of stew, dipping his bread into the broth before tearing off another bite.

  For the life of me, I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t want to ensure his best chances of healing properly. “Well, I already told him to come, so it’s too late.” I announced stubbornly and took a step back to sit on a couch, drained. I was spent and my head tilted back, hand following to rub my forehead with my palm.

  “You need a drink. Gods know I do. Whiskey.” He demanded hoarsely again, and my eyes turned towards his as he included me in his quest for alcohol.

  I sighed. “You didn’t get enough when I practically drowned you in it?” I said, tone ripe with sarcasm. “There isn’t even much left. I used most of it on you.” I said before quieting. Why am I being difficult? The whiskey would probably be a better painkiller than the actual painkillers.

  I got up from the couch and headed to the cupboard, pulling out the bottle with the last of the whiskey and two cups. I poured generously for him and a bit for me, striding back and practically shoving the cup into his hand. “For the pain.” I said wryly.

  He snorted and looked up to me with relief before downing the contents entirely, lowering the glass with an extremely satisfied groan of approval. I watched as he drank it in one swift motion, tilting my head with vague curiosity.

  He makes it look so easy. I looked down to the contents of my own cup, not having as much as I had given him since I had never tried whiskey before. I sat back down on the couch, gripping the cup as though it was some form of lifeline that I expected to disappoint me at any moment.

  Ben was watching me, his satisfied look slowly shifting into expectation. “Drink.” He ordered, rasping a little, motioning with a hand to tip the cup and do what he did.

  I shot him a look, then lifted the cup to sniff. The smell made my eyes water, but I was twenty, and while a noblewoman to some, here with him I was just Carys. I tipped the cup and gulped it down. It burned like liquid fire, my eyes watering even more until tears streamed down my cheeks and I started to cough.

  A deep laughter echoed briefly in my ears until it turned into an agonized groan, Ben finding his fair share of amusement in my distress. His own now served him right for laughing at me, and while the nurturing part of me wished to ease his pain, the arrogant part of me felt a certain vindictive pleasure in it.

  I wiped my tears from my cheeks, the nurturing part winning the battle, and I pushed myself off the couch to kneel next to him. “Lay back and stop laughing.” I said, my irritation at his laughter creeping into my tone.

  He lay back, wincing, though he couldn’t keep the amusement out of his eyes. “You have never had whiskey, I take it,” he rasped, slowly relaxing back against his pillow pile, carefully reaching up to run his hand through his hair.

  “No, I haven’t. Red wine is my drink of choice,” I informed him, adjusting his blankets and avoiding his gaze entirely. He was silent, waiting for me to look at him, but when I didn’t, he lifted a hand to take my chin guiding it until I was looking directly at him.

  “At least you didn’t sip it,” he said quietly, a look that resembled pride in his eyes. “Most would not have the courage to drink it all at once.” He let go of my hand and settled in comfortably.

  I could feel the effects quickly enough, though I only had perhaps half the amount that Ben had. My body grew warm and I could feel the faint buzz that came along with the consumption of alcohol, and as much as I hated to admit it, that drink was exactly what I needed.

  CHAPTER 52

  The golden light of dusk filled the yard when the rumble and clatter of wagons echoed down the road three days later, the caravan that carried my family and staff coming into view moments later as they passed through the gates into our yard. I could hear their happy chatter even from inside the cottage, and I slowly moved towards the door, in no hurry to greet them.

  While looking after Ben alone had not been easy, the dramatics that were sure to come along with my family’s return once again already had me inwardly heaving a sigh. Here we go...

  I could already envision Rhian’s reaction to Ben’s current state, panicky and weepy. Brynmor, I was certain, would show a smug satisfaction that Ben was injured as though he had somehow failed at his job. Darius...well, Darius might suspect Ben had nearly died on purpose in some ridiculous attempt to win my affections. The rest would react in manners more typical and appropriate, or at least I hoped so. I was beginning to think the waters of Lundham might be making us all a little odd.

  Father beamed at me as he halted, the stable-hand already rushing ahead to begin collecting the horses, taking the reins of my father’s horse as he dismounted first. He stretched stiffly, grunting only for a moment before reaching me in a matter of strides, embracing me tightly. “Carys, oh how I have missed you.” He murmured into my hair. “We were successful in our talks, and I look forward to informing you about all of it. How was your time here?” He pulled back, holding me out at arms length to look me up and down, scrutinizing me for any changes.

  Rhian and Brynmor dismounted, the former giggling at some joke from the latter, Brynmor’s easygoing, charming smile fixed on Rhian like it always used to be in Perinthas. They were approaching as I told Father of my week. “I’m afraid I didn’t get as much done as I hoped. There was a bit of an incident, but it’s been handled. The second day you were gone, Ben was attacked. He was grievously wounded, but was alive. He will be alright, but needs his rest. His bed is set up next to the hearth for now, though now that I have some extra hands, we can move him over and out of the middle of the floor.”

  Rhian’s joyful smile diminished as I began talking, though at the mention of Ben being badly wounded, she let out a cry and bolted into the house, already beginning to sob.

  Father’s lips tightened into a grim line, eyes flicking upwards to watch Rhian and he gave a solitary nod. “I am relieved he will be alright. You can fill me in on the details later.” He turned to bark a few instructions to the staff. Darius, nodding to Father after pausing in his unloading to watch Rhian’s outburst, now looked towards me to give me a concerned look.

  Mother and Iolyn, oblivious to what had transpired over the last week, finally came towards us. Mother advanced her way towards me, reaching only a single hand to cup my cheek in her greeting. “You look tired, dear. You really should get some rest.” She offered a half-hearted smile and proceeded up the steps and into the house, followed by a more enthusiastic Iolyn, who hugged me tightly. “So much drinking, Carys. It was fantastic, and you missed it.” I let out a little chuckle as Iolyn winked at me, and I turned to go with them into the house.

  Brynmor came alongside me as we climbed the steps, his arm sliding around my waist as he planted a kiss on my cheek. “I missed you, Carys. Too bad you were stuck here on maid duty all week. Who did Ben pick a fight with, anyways? Some burly man named Tiny? Or did he lose a bet?” He smirked, and I stopped short, whir
ling around to snap at him.

  “He got hurt while keeping me safe, and I can tell you this, if that had been you instead of him, you wouldn’t have lived long enough to unsheathe your blade. So have some respect for your fellow guards, Bryn.” I turned on my heel furiously to go inside, leaving a shocked Brynmor standing with his jaw agape on the step.

  The scene inside was about what I had expected. Ben was laying in his bedroll near the hearth, a pinched and pained look on his face as Rhian thoughtlessly wrapped her arms around him and was leaning heavily against his chest wound. She was sobbing, asking him non-stop questions about what happened amidst prayers that he would live. Ben’s eyes found mine the moment I walked in the door, silently pleading me to help.

  Father rolled his eyes at Rhian, grunting in annoyance, “Rhi, let go of the poor man. Can’t you see he is in pain? And for the love of the gods, get ahold of yourself. Carys already said he will be alright.” Father huffed and headed into the study. Iolyn was ignoring our sister’s display and already in the kitchen in search of food, and I moved towards Ben to provide the rescue he so desperately wanted.

  Rhian was trying to stop crying, developing the hiccups as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. I pulled her back slowly, trying to ensure she didn’t inadvertently use his chest to push herself up. Reluctantly releasing Ben, she rose to the sound of his relieved groan, the wounded guard wincing as he finally relaxed against the pillows. He murmured hoarsely to her. “I’ll be alright, Lady Rhian.”

  A bewildered looking Madox entered the house, stopping short at the scene. Furrowing his brow, he looked from Ben to me, asking. “What happened?” A seething Brynmor stalked in behind him, dropping into a chair at the table with a scowl, blatantly ignoring the rest of us.

  Ben grunted as he shifted to look towards Madox, answering his question with a decidedly bitter tone. “The elves whom you trust so implicitly were following Carys, looking to use her in their schemes. I decided to lead them away from her when they attacked without reason or provocation.”

  Rhian looked horrified at the idea that her beloved elves would do such a thing, and she shook her head. “No, you must be mistaken. The elves are our friends. They would never do such a thing.” She looked from Ben to me, searching for some form of agreement that neither her nor I could give her.

  “They would, Lady Rhian. And they did.” His eyes darkened as he held her gaze. “I was more fortunate than most that I found an opportunity to run, and I managed to get home unseen where Lady Carys discovered me and tended my injuries.”

  All eyes turned to me in surprise, though it was Rhian who spoke first, wrinkling her nose. “Since when does Carys know anything about tending injuries? The last time I checked, she couldn’t even embroider.”

  Brynmor’s gaze turned cold and he muttered with a sneer. “I guess she learned more from the Surgeon’s son than how to kiss with her tongue.”

  My head snapped around to him and I glared, cheeks aflame as my fury exploded and my body shook with rage. “That was completely uncalled for! Have you forgotten already that I was officially in surgical training in the Healing Ward for over a year?” I could barely refrain from yelling, pushed far past furious and well into murderous. Insulting me in private was one thing, but in front of my entire household? He should have just gone all out and called me a whore!

  Brynmor had forgotten, judging by the shamed look that swiftly appeared on his features at both the insult and the fact he had shamed his betrothed. His jaw tightened and his eyes fell to the floor with his murmured apology, quickly ducking back outside though the damage had already been done.

  Ben’s eyes narrowed at Brynmor in a slow-burning hatred, remaining fixed on my betrothed until he was out the door, though his gaze moved to meet mine a split second later. I held his gaze for only a moment, already knowing what he would say to this. I also knew he wasn’t wrong to say it.

  Madox frowned and gave me an apologetic look before dropping his pack near the door, deciding against saying anything at that moment in favor of a search for food.

  Rhian’s fingers locked and twisted in her lap as she watched Brynmor stalk out the door, eying me with an indecipherable expression before she sat by Ben’s side and turned her full attention to him. She bobbed her head to him as she managed a smile. “I will take good care of you from now on. You won’t have to put up with Carys’s lack of bedside manner anymore.” She turned to give me a haughty look. “Carys’s idea of reading a bedtime story is handing you a book and making you read to yourself.”

  Ben snorted softly as I glared back at my sister. “Is today Pick-on-Carys Day?” I growled before turning on my heel and storming out of the house, letting the door slam shut behind me with a loud bang.

  I saw Brynmor helping Darius unload the last trunks and crates, but went the long way around the house to avoid being seen. My footsteps carried me towards the patio where I dropped to the bench and squeezed my eyes shut, livid. How dare he? Insulting a Lady whom you serve, not to mention the woman you are to marry...it was unforgivable!

  It was quiet out here, only the sound of the winter breeze whispering through the bare branches of the trees and greatly preferable to the voices of my family. My jaw worked as I tried to find some measure of calm, though it evaded me all too well.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  It didn’t stay quiet nearly long enough for my liking, as Rhian came out to the patio a little over an hour later, looking deeply perturbed. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her young face was lined in a scowl. She huffed as she approached, saying. “Ben wants you to come back and change his bandages. He won’t let me do it.”

  My lips twitched slightly, understanding why he wouldn’t want her doing it. More than one reason came to mind, actually. “Alright.” I said quietly, rising to follow her back in. Ben hadn’t waited as long as I expected to make his attempt to get out from Rhian’s care, though knowing my sister as I did, I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “Why doesn’t he want me to do it? I can wrap a bandage as good as anyone else.” She pouted. “It doesn’t look all that difficult. It’s just wrapping cloth over an injury.” She pushed open the door to the cottage and entered, me following right behind her to see the flash of relief on Ben’s face. Rhian headed right for him and sat down rather close to him, Ben’s relief returning to annoyance as his eyes bored into mine.

  I grabbed the bag of medical supplies and met Ben’s gaze for a split second before making a shooing motion to my sister, needing the place next to Ben that she was currently occupying. “You cannot sit there, Rhian. You should go into the kitchen. Or the bedroom, actually...and close the door.”

  Rhian glared at me, tilting her chin upwards in defiance. “I am not going anywhere.” She huffed. “I want to watch to see how you do it so that I will know for next time.” Despite her protests against moving, she capitulated just enough to let me take the seat next to Ben without sacrificing her ability to hover over him.

  I gave her a stern look as my temper flared, arguing. “Rhian, one of his injuries in located in a place that would be inappropriate for you, as a young teen, to view.”

  Ben gave me another look as he broke into the discussion, grunting, “Go sit at the table, Lady Rhian.” She huffed loudly and rose, stomping over to the dining room table and flopping dramatically into a chair, tilting her head as though she didn’t care that she had been sent off. Her false nonchalance lasted only about ten seconds before she was craning her head, trying to see what was happening.

  His eyes trailed after Rhian as though ensuring she was going to stay put before flicking up to find mine. “Back first.” He spoke with a quiet growl, his mood growing increasingly sour. He slowly leaned forward as he kept the blankets held up against his chest, managing to hide his tattoo from Rhian’s prying eyes.

  I pulled the bandage free and leaned in to inspect the wound, a smile forming at the sight that greeted me. “It’s healing nicely.” I told him, though loud enough that Rhian wou
ld hear. I grabbed a cloth and the vial of antiseptic and began to wash the long cut across his back. “If you want, we could probably leave the dressing off now, though you must be extra careful not to move too much and pull on the burned skin.”

  Ben’s head turned as he tried to look over his shoulder at me. “Please. They itch.” He admitted with a soft grunt, and I gave him a half smile as I continued to gently dab at the scabs that had formed over his back.

  “The skin will feel itchy as it knits back together, so resist the urge to scratch at it, alright? I don’t want you accidentally opening your wounds again.” He frowned and grumbled softly, but nodded.

  I moved around to his side upon finishing, slowly peeling the bandage from his chest. This injury was visible to Rhian now, and she gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth as her eyes started to fill with tears.

  “I had no idea it was that bad.” She said in a wobbling voice, her brow scrunching up in concern. Rhian came off the dining room chair and dared a few steps closer, peering over to see what I was doing. “What is in that bottle?” She asked curiously, eyes on the vial I held in my hands.