“My husband is dead.” The statement sounded harsh. Cold. Instinctively her hand moved to the band which dangled from her neck, clasping it tightly in her palm. She felt no remorse. In a way it made her feel guilty now, to imagine what Edric must think of her for being so detached from the loss. He spoke of love as if it was the greatest thing in the world and here she sat, raised to believe that such emotions don’t exist.
A look of realization passed over Edric’s pale features, followed quickly by undeniable regret. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I think I suspected as much. Please, forgive me. I was not thinking.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“It was inappropriate for me to speak of him. I sympathize for your loss.”
“Spare your sympathy for one who needs it,” she said coolly. “Your people may have the luxury of marrying for love. Do not assume we all share the same custom.”
Edric’s face fell, somehow managing to look more wretched than he had after discovering his blunder. “You did not love your husband?”
There it was. The cold truth she had no desire to admit to this man. He would never understand. He would think her heartless and cruel. How could he possibly accept that it was the way of the Ovatai? “You seek to insult me by pointing out what you believe is a flaw in my character,” she stated, her voice calm and even. “What you must understand is that my people have no use for love. It is no more than a word tossed about frivolously by the imbeciles of other races. It has no place in marriage or war.”
“There must be some use for it. You cannot tell me that no Ovatai has ever loved the person they were married to. How else do you determine your partner? The person you will spend the rest of your life with…”
“Marriage is an arrangement dealt with by the family,” she explained. “Several details are considered when making a match. Love is not one of them. They look at strengths and weaknesses between their child and the possible mate. Our people must remain strong in order to survive so we cannot allow random partnerships. If a man or woman is not able to prove themselves, they are deemed unworthy of furthering the line of their people. As the daughter of the Chief, my strength, although it has been proven many times, was never questioned. When choosing a husband for me, my father required the warrior to be the absolute best. Unequaled in strength and intelligence. A long-time war leader of the Komoa tribe whose heritage was unrivaled. As they say, a strong couple will bear strong children who will grow up to carry on the legacy of the Ovatai.”
“And you felt nothing for him? Do you even mourn his death?”
“I mourn the loss, but not for the reason you may think.” She let her voice trail off. Why was she telling him this? The point of arranging this meeting was to find out more about his people. Not hers.
“What do you mourn?” he urged, leaning forward, expectant. Clearly curious what her answer would be.
Straightening her shoulders Neomi lifted her eyes to the sky. She would have to give some information in order to receive. What more harm could possibly be done to her image in his eyes? “It saddens me to think that I am now worthless to my people as anything more than a leader in this war.”
“Worthless?” Edric blinked. “How could you possibly be worthless? I’m sure there are plenty of other Ovatai men out there who would make an… advantageous match. After the threat of the Avaern is gone, you will have suitors knocking down your father’s door to be considered.”
“Ah, that is where you are mistaken.” She couldn’t conceal the discontent in her voice. “My worth is no longer assumed the way it was before. Mevuk and I were married five years. During that time I never once conceived a child. That will be considered by any man who thinks to take me as a wife now. I am a risk. A chance that their choice in marriage will result in no children. No heir. A waste of their genetic strengths which could have been passed on through a more fertile woman. The likeliness of another man ever desiring me is about as probable as a victory over the Avaern.”
“Do they not consider that the failure could have been your husband’s and not yours?”
“Mevuk was the most respected war leader under the Chief. His reputation was known throughout all of Ethrysta, revered by members of every tribe. They would never think to mar his memory with an accusation of failure.”
“Maybe you will get lucky,” he shrugged. “Perhaps some strapping Ovatai man will fall in love with you and marry you for the wonderful person you are, regardless of assumed faults.”
She glanced at him, confused by his statement. It was hard to tell if he was being sincere or if it was intended as sarcasm. She hated not being able to read him. “I will disregard that compliment on the assumption that you spoke in jest. As far as your ridiculous notions of love, I do not share them, nor do I intend to. What of you?” she raised her brow quizzically. “Do you have someone back home that you possess this mythical feeling for?”
Edric chuckled to himself, another violent shudder coursing through his body, shaking him through to his core. “I have given up on love,” he replied simply. “We cannot all be blessed like Callum and my sister. I grow tired of the games women play in Tanispa. It is impossible to know if they actually care about me or if they only seek to marry my crown. So far my crown seems to be winning more hearts than me.”
“So you know already?”
“Know what?”
“About your Lieutenant.”
He turned his head, staring at her in confusion. “Sahra? What about her?”
“She is chasing your crown.”
“Is she that obvious?”
“She admitted it.” Neomi stuck her chin out defiantly. “I heard it from her own lips that she seeks to seduce you through her scented oils and self-proclaimed skill at swaying men to her will. She hopes to defeat the Avaern and return to Tanispa on your arm as a future Princess of the Vor’shai.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” he sighed. “And what of you? What is your opinion of my crown?”
Wrinkling her nose in disdain she turned her attention away from him. She couldn’t bear to look at him. Something about the innocence in his eyes made her pity him. “Why should I care about your crown? It means nothing to me.”
He was quiet for a moment. Deep in thoughtful contemplation before his face lifted again, settling his gaze on Neomi, an almost devious glint sparkling from the wavering glow of his eyes. “And what would you say if I were to tell you the sky was red?”
All of the thoughts in Neomi’s head came to a sudden halt. Red? What would possess a man to ask a question like that? Spinning to face him she narrowed her eyes, on her guard for whatever trick he might be up to. She couldn’t trust him. He broke through her walls too easily. Had it not been for the strange, unexpected question he posed now, she feared to think how much more about herself she might have revealed. “Have you lost your mind, Edric?”
At her response he lowered his eyes to the ground, a soft, miserable laugh escaping his lips in nothing more than a quiet breath. “I think maybe I have.”
“You are sick,” she stated matter-of-factly. The conversation had come full circle. Now was her chance to draw the reason for his ailment forward while he was distracted by his own mind. “Is there anything I can do which might ease your discomfort? Gadiel will wake soon to take over the watch and when he does, I can no longer guarantee another opportunity where I can be of assistance.”
Lifting his head Edric stared at her, defeated. She had him cornered. If he was aware of a way she could help him, he had no choice but to tell her what caused the unusual reaction in his body. “There is something… but I am afraid to ask it of you.”
“I do not offer my assistance if I am not willing to give it. Tell me what ails you and I will do what I can to right it.”
“I have some bad news, Neomi.” Heaving a sigh he bowed his shoulders forward. He looked wretched. Weighted by some invisible burden only he could feel. The sadness in his eyes sent a chill through her spine, afraid of wh
at he had to say. Bad news? What could possibly be wrong with him which would lead to such solemnity?
“I am listening. You waste time.”
“My people will not be able to help in the manner we originally thought we could,” he replied gravely. “Our internal energy is hindered by the landscape of your country. To utilize our magic, as I did against the Boeikath, drains our essence without the ability to replenish it the way we can in our homeland. This will limit our strength against the Avaern. I’m afraid there is little that can be done about it.”
Once again Neomi found herself surprised by Edric’s response. She had been right. When she checked Edric for injury after taking cover from the Boeikath, she’d felt a significant loss of energy inside him. Diminished to nothing more than a faint glimmer scattered throughout his limbs. It explained his strange illness. If the Vor’shai were unable to rejuvenate themselves after extensive use of their energy, he would never recover from the loss while in Ethrysta unless she could get him somewhere more suitable for their people. But where? “What does this mean for you?” she asked, unable to conceal the hesitation in her voice. She was worried for him. It was dangerous to continue on without tending to his weakness before it got much worse. The slightest use of the energy, even unwittingly, could render him unconscious. Comatose. Maybe even dead. “You said there was something I could do. Tell me what it is.”
His eyes trailed idly over to the tent where Callum had gone, seemingly unsure of whether he should answer her question. She could see the misery in every line of his face. It took every ounce of his strength to keep him from falling over in front of her. The exigent circumstances of his illness required him to swallow whatever pride held his tongue. This was no time for putting on a show for her benefit. Swiftly she reached for him, grasping his chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing him to look her in the eye. He was startled by the action, the dim glow of his eyes flashing brightly for a moment before returning to their faint, twinkling light. He was getting worse. The time he spent awake continued to drain him, although slowly. Over time it would be the death of him.
“I do not care what your Captain has told you about asking for help. What happens here tonight is between you and me. I will tell no one and it would be in your best interest not to make it known as well. We do not have all night, however. I need an answer.”
“Gadiel told me that your people might be able to infuse my body with your energy somehow,” he replied, his words hindered by Neomi’s hard grip on his jaw. Quickly she released him, satisfied that he would tell her what she wanted to know.
“You think I could transfer my essence into you?”
“I don’t know what I think. Right now it has been presented as my only hope at recovery, but it requires you to be willing.”
She lowered her gaze to the ground, contemplative, curious about what he was suggesting. It was a foreign concept. Many times she had utilized her energy to manipulate the essence of another person but never had she tried to extend herself in such a way. To transfer a part of her into someone else. This is dangerous. You are putting yourself at risk in considering what he lays before you. Straightening her back she inhaled a deep breath. She didn’t care about the consequences. For her talk of swallowing pride, she couldn’t bring herself to admit timidity. There had to be a way to do it. A mere shift in the normal manipulation. If she started to feel out of control, it would be easy enough to stop. She just needed to figure out how to begin. “Undo your shirt,” she commanded, pointing toward the buttons on the front of Edric’s doublet.
Regardless of what her method would be, she knew it required her to touch his skin. To position an access point of her body against one of his. Lessons in healing had taught her the best locations for energy manipulation. Some were more potent than others. It was a greater risk to utilize the point over the heart but given their constraints on time, she would have to accept the increased difficulty of the task she took on. They didn’t have enough time to slowly manipulate a minor meridian, nor did she feel it appropriate to touch him in some of the locations which were available. The chest would have to do.
Edric gazed at her, confused by the odd request. “My shirt?” he asked curiously. “Why must I undo my shirt?”
“Because I told you to.” Why did he waste time on foolish questions?
He chuckled quietly, shaking his head as if at some joke Neomi wasn’t privy to. Cocking her head to one side she stared at him, waiting for some explanation of his entertainment. He exhaled a ragged breath, a faint smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “This is becoming a habit with you.”
“A habit? What are you talking about?”
“Demanding me to remove my clothes,” he chortled. “This is twice in only a few days.”
A joke. His life was in jeopardy and he wasted time with jokes? Determined, she leaned forward, taking Edric by surprise as she reached for his shirt, prying the buttons from where they were fastened. He may not be concerned about his friends finding him there alone with her but she had every reason to hasten their meeting. Moinie was a light sleeper. It was possible she was already aware of Neomi’s departure from the tent.
Edric nearly toppled backward from the force of Neomi’s approach, his arm extending behind him to help maintain his balance, palm flattened against the ground. He made no move to stop her, merely staring at her in bewilderment. The inappropriateness of her actions didn’t sink in until his doublet was almost completely undone. To her relief, mingled with dismay, he wore another shirt underneath, concealing his chest from view.
“You are going to have to remove it if I am going to help you,” she huffed in mild irritation. “Once you have taken the shirt from your back, you can cover yourself with the cloak you wear. It will protect you from the wind until I am finished.”
Reluctance returned to Edric’s expression. She couldn’t blame him for being hesitant. The night air was beyond freezing. For a man whose body wasn’t adjusted to the temperature, it would be a torturous thought to consider exposing bare skin to the elements. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t have a choice. He could suffer the cold or die. The options were pretty clear.
With perfectly controlled movements he brought his hand to the clasp of his cloak, unfastening it to let the heavy fabric fall to the ground. His gaze remained locked on hers while he slid the sleeves down his shoulders and off his arms, bracing himself for the cold as he pulled the undershirt over his head. Heat began to rise in Neomi’s cheeks at the sight of him, realizing the numerous mistakes she was making. It was bad enough for her to be here with him against Moinie’s counsel when her own better judgment told her it was wrong. Now he was seated before her, half-undressed, both of them shivering though she couldn’t blame her reaction on the cold.
He was surprisingly well-built. Under the cover of his clothing it was difficult to notice, but she couldn’t deny it now. The muscles in his arms were toned, displaying a strength in stature she hadn’t expected, assuming the Vor’shai to be physically weak. An assumption she’d acquired by listening to her brother. Clearly he didn’t know their people as well as he liked to think.
It was becoming harder for her to retain her composure. Averting her eyes she tried not to think about his figure. Other than Mevuk, she’d never seen a man in such a state of undress. Her fascination with Edric’s body was unhealthy. Filled with a curiosity she wasn’t comfortable admitting. There were differences between him and Mevuk. Obvious contrasts between the physical design of the Vor’shai and the Ovatai. She hated the desire she felt to investigate those differences more thoroughly. To see them up close. Not for intimacy, but to quell the questions which floated inside her mind.
Disregarding her concerns about officiousness, she let her hand extend toward Edric, feeling the cool surface of his chest against her palm. Slowly she let her eyes lift to stare at their conjoined bodies, the lack of hair on his skin a point of interest to her. The Ovatai were covered by a thin layer of hair to protect
against the frigid temperatures, though the men possessed it in thicker quantities than the women. Edric’s chest was smooth, devoid of any such cover to break the cold wind which blew across his exposed skin.
Edric shivered, his hands clutching at his cloak, lifting it to cover his shoulders once again. He stared down at her hand, an obvious look of uncertainty on his face. “Why do you look so confused?”
She glanced up at him, unsure of how to respond. It seemed foolish to be so captivated by minor differences in their bodies. “I am not confused,” she argued, pressing her palm tight to his chest to reaffirm her intentions. “I do not want to begin until you are ready. There is no way to know how your system will react to my energy. I need you to focus so we can be prepared for possible adverse reactions.”
“You do know what you are doing, right?”
“Do not question me.” Neomi exhaled deeply. She didn’t want to answer him. He might not let her try if he was aware of her hesitation. It was imperative she not give him a chance to back down. Although she couldn’t be sure why, she didn’t want to lose him. His company was entertaining. In some ways even mildly enjoyable. A wealth of knowledge about the outside world. It was a welcome change from the war talk her people shared of late. The constant bickering about who was the stronger leader.
Carefully she slid her knees across the snow to position herself directly in front of Edric. Distance increased the chance of error. An ill-timed break in the flow of energy between them could be dangerous. From where he knelt, solemn and stiff, she could sense his discomfort. Slowly building into a quiet fear. What they were about to do was unheard of. A melding of Ovatai energy with a Vor’shai. She needed to concentrate. A single distraction could ruin everything.
Such focus on her internal energy was an unusual sensation. The Ovatai rarely had need to think about what they did when it came to their magic. It was inherent to them. A natural way of life. They only had to think of what they wanted to do and it occurred effortlessly at their whim. This was more critical. A strange surgery. One she hoped to never have to perform again. It frayed her nerves, leaving her feeling exhausted from the mere thought of the task without having even begun.
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Three: Crown of Ice Page 34