by Lorna George
'Stop!' it shrieked as she took hold of the bindings through Arun and her Bond. 'Leave me! Do not!'
She had no choice, and severed the tie. Immediately, she was thrown from Arun’s mind and found herself back in her own body. There was a build-up of power, and with a bright golden flash, their joint magic hit the creature, bowling it over onto its twisted spine. She watched helplessly as Arun’s legs gave out beneath him, his strength finally spent with the last of his magic, but saw with horror that the creature still moved. She was sure it had been over, but it was shrieking and trying to right itself, moving back in to attack. They had severed the control of Cygnus’ magic from its body, but the harpy was still using it somehow. Arun made no move to defend himself, and she knew he was unconscious.
Ignoring the severity of her injuries, she tried to get to him, but stumbled uselessly as the stinking creature closed in on the prone man.
‘Arun!’ She screamed, trying once more to get up, but he didn’t even stir. She was sure then that she had failed, that she would have to watch him die, yet another life lost on her watch, when a volley of arrows peppered the monster like a pincushion.
Her eyes wide with shock, she saw it stumble as if in slow motion, and looked up to the battlements to find Christophe and a score of soldiers reloading to fire once again. There was a final powerful shriek from the creature before it died, and she sighed in relief, her forehead plopping down into the dirt.
‘My Lady!’ she heard Christophe crying out as feet came running towards her. ‘My Lady, are you alright?’
‘I’m fine,’ she croaked. ‘See to the other two first.’
Rolling onto her back, she looked up into the worried face of the young soldier as he took stock of her injuries. The blood that was still pooling in her mouth and seeping down her swollen face let her know that she had definitely broken her nose, and would likely be sporting a pair of black eyes for a while. Her leg was burning painfully and she knew she would need stitches and a lot of time before she could walk unaided again. She sighed. That was going to be a huge inconvenience.
‘The other two first,’ she ordered through puffy, bloody lips when he didn’t move. ‘And check if that cussing thing is dead. Hang and quarter it if you have to...’
Christophe showed yet more promise then by delegating her orders so he could stay by her side. He looked worriedly down at her wound then back up to her face, which she was sure must be a much more horrific sight. She could feel her consciousness beginning to slip, and despite her previous reservations, was now in a situation where she had no choice but to trust in the young guard.
‘Please, Christophe, whatever happens, they need to get safely back to their ship… It’s along the coast somewhere, but Lord Rayan will be able to make contact…’
‘Be easy, My Lady,’ he shushed, clearly concerned. ‘I can keep you all in my own lodgings in the town until you’re healed.’
‘No,’ she shook her head quickly. ‘No, you must keep them away from me. Don’t tell them where I am, don’t allow them to find me… Please.’
The young guard looked taken aback by this, the two sets of requests not making too much sense when spoken back to back like that. Another guard hurried over, saluted, then informed them that both men were well, but unconscious. Naomi knew it might take days for Arun to awaken after such an expenditure of power, but once awoken, the Bond would lead him right to her. She could only pray that it would be weak for long enough that she could make good her escape.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Days had passed since the battle at Pearpetal Garrison, and despite Christophe being as good as his word and keeping her secretly tucked away in the safe house outside the town, today Naomi was watching the door nervously. She knew that the Korenian ship was in port, and that if Arun was going to come for her, it would be today. Her wounds weren’t too serious, but she had three sets of stitches in her leg from the harpy’s teeth, which were keeping her all but bedridden.
At her request, Christophe had left a horse saddled and ready in the small stable outside, and a loaded crossbow on her bedside table. She hoped Arun had more sense than to try her patience any further, and while she didn’t particularly relish the thought, she didn’t have to kill him to keep him at bay. She had made her choice, but he was known for disregarding the feelings of others in favour of his own.
‘I swear, Lady Naomi, he has no idea where you are,’ Christophe repeated from his seat on the other side of the room. He had kept her under his personal guard in the days that had passed while she recovered, and today had his own crossbow resting on his knees and pointing casually at the small, wooden door of the cottage. ‘Even if he did, I won’t allow him to take you. He is being watched by my men, as is his Commander, and he gave me his word that he would let you be.’
She had been told of the conversation between them when Arun had finally awoken from his deep sleep, and she had absolutely no intention of believing as Christophe did that Arun had simply accepted her refusal. It had been impossible not to feel the Bond gaining power between them, and despite her having very little to do with her time save rebuilding her mental shields against him, she knew from the ease he had decimated them last time that it wouldn’t be difficult to do it again. She did not trust the man in the slightest.
She was about to say as much, when a sharp knock at the door dropped a lead weight into the pit of her stomach and caused them both to jump. Hands shaking, she immediately reached for the crossbow and watched with wide eyes as Christophe stood, taking a step forwards and raising his own weapon.
‘Who goes there?’ He demanded.
The pause that followed seemed to stretch through infinity, but eventually a comforting voice she knew well answered. ‘The Watcher of the Wood.’
A small sound of relief escaped her as she sighed and felt her body relax. Letting go of her own crossbow, she nodded to Christophe to allow him entry. Sure enough, there stood Tristan in the doorway, smiling crookedly back at her.
‘You look like you were expecting trouble,’ he mused, eyeing their weapons as he ducked inside the cottage.
‘I’m glad to be disappointed,’ Naomi replied. The door was closed firmly behind him, and Christophe looked in awe at the man he had probably only heard stories about. She looked uncertainly up at Tristan, then smiled apologetically, trying not to agitate the couple of small stitches on her bottom lip. ‘Christophe, would you mind giving us a moment?’
‘Of course, My Lady.’
They waited until he was gone into the adjacent room, before turning back to one another and smiling again. Tristan approached the bed and leant down to plant a small kiss on her forehead, before taking up a seat on the edge of where she lay. She was a little taken aback by the overly affectionate gesture, but when she saw the worry on his face, decided against poking fun of him. She knew how black and blue she was right now.
‘Are you well?’ he asked, thick brows furrowing. ‘I understand you took quite a beating.’
Naomi only shrugged. ‘Oh, you know me. I always like to add more scars to my collection.’
Tristan smiled, but it seemed forced. Reaching across, he placed his large hand over her smaller one and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘Perhaps your collection is getting rather large? You could always take up needlework instead. Much safer.’
‘Clearly you’ve never attempted needlework,’ she grimaced, remembering the few occasions she had tried to learn the activity as a child, and how the sting of the needle was far more unpleasant than being knocked onto her backside by Master Gerrard. When she looked up to elaborate, Tristan was watching her with such worry that she had to break eye contact. ‘Don’t make that face. You know very well I have a duty, and a few cuts and bruises aren’t going to stop me.’
‘Cuts and bruises,’ he sighed, again squeezing her hand. ‘If only that was all it was.’
‘I’m fine.’ Naomi pulled her hand from his, annoyance prickling at the faint accusation in his tone. ‘What would
you have me do?’
‘I would have you marry King Arun.’ He responded quickly enough that she knew this was the reason for his visit, but held up his hands defensively when she scowled at him. ‘You would be safe with him, able to scour Adrienne from this country like the black stain that she is, and all with no further danger to yourself. Why can’t you see that?’
‘Don’t you know me at all?’ she sighed. ‘Even if I had decided to go through with such a mercenary idea, there’s no way on Ilios I would have sat safely on the side-lines while others fought my war. I plan very much to be leading the attack, to be on the front lines when we take the country back. I will kill her myself, or I’ll die trying.’
‘Your war?’ he asked, incredulous. ‘Naomi, this isn’t…’
She snapped at last, thumping a fist down into the soft mattress and glaring at him. ‘They took everything from me! Everything! My home, my family, and they have left nothing of me but pain and rage! I’m tired of pretending they didn’t, do you understand? I have only my hope for a better future to keep me going, and I will not trade it so easily to a man that cares nothing for that, nor me!’
Tristan looked at her then with such shock and horror at her outburst, she could only clench her teeth to keep anything further from tumbling out. A painful lump sat in her throat and she fought back the sting of tears in her eyes. She knew grieving for her losses was long overdue, but she just couldn’t let go. Not yet.
‘You think so badly of him,’ he said, a little sadly. ‘But he… he does care for you, you know. He likes you a great deal.’
It took all of her self-control to keep her voice from breaking. ‘I don’t believe that for a second, and nor should you. If you had been there, Tristan, if you had seen...’
‘When he… he kissed you?’
‘When he kissed me?’ she exploded. ‘Is that what he said? That he kissed me? If that was all it was I wouldn’t be even half so cussing angry! He forced himself against me in body and mind, he smashed into my head with no concern whatsoever, took what he wanted, and then he threw me to the ground like… like the harlot he thinks I am!’
Tristan looked so utterly stricken by that, she had to turn away. She was shaking hard now, everything so pent up inside fighting to be free.
‘Do you know what the worst part was? The absolute worst part?’ she heaved, then grit her teeth, taking an odd comfort from the pain it caused. ‘He told me afterwards it was to help replenish his magic. If he had just said… If he had asked me, I wouldn’t have minded, cuss him! But of course, that would have been too much trouble, wouldn’t it? Especially when he could just take what he wanted and prove his stupid, horrible dominance!’
She felt him touch her shoulder lightly, but when she tried to shake him off, he pulled her into a warm embrace and whispered into her hair. ‘I’m sorry. Hush now, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ she admitted haltingly, and feeling the tide of emotion battering at her heart, she pushed him away again.
He complied, and she felt guilt for worrying him to the point where he thought she needed to be coddled. It wasn’t like him to offer such physical comfort, and she needed to reassure him that she would be well enough if left to her own devices. She cleared her throat and squeezed her laced fingers together. ‘I’m fine, really. I just… I just want to try this my way. I think I’ve earned the right to do that.’
‘You have,’ he agreed at last. ‘You go to Tsumetai and ask for help there, if that’s what you think is best. I understand arrangements have been made for your safe passage to the capital?’
‘I should be in Asuya two moons from now, all being well.’
Tristan grimaced at that. ‘Alone?’
‘Quite alone,’ she raised a brow. ‘Why?’
‘I just thought perhaps…’ he trailed off then, glancing at the closed kitchen door where they knew Christophe was waiting to be readmitted. She realised almost immediately what he was getting at, wondering at his evasiveness.
‘No, I go alone,’ she reiterated. ‘I need people here I can trust.’
‘Very well,’ Tristan straightened in his chair, then smiled. ‘Before I leave, I have a few things for you.’
Surprised, she watched as he pulled a black leather belt over his head. As he did so, a long, slim blade in a matching black scabbard was revealed from where it had been obscured across his back. He offered it to her then, cold steel pommel and black hilt first, watching with pleasure at the obvious awe on her face at such a weapon. She took it, uncertain until he nodded encouragingly, and felt the weight of it. It clicked quietly as she pulled it from its sheath, and the hiss of metal was music to her ears as it revealed its vicious, scalloped blade and ricasso just under the cross guard. A flamberge. Similar to the one she had trained with as a teenager, it was light and fast, utilising her speed as a counter to the probable superior strength of her opponent. The metalwork was inscribed by beautiful, swirling patterns that seemed oddly familiar to her, and it gleamed warmly in her hands. It was the most beautiful weapon she had ever seen.
‘I made it for you,’ he admitted, a little shyly. ‘I’d heard yours was melted down after the rebellion.’
‘I…’ she began, then felt herself choking up again. Reverently, she slid the blade back into its scabbard and looked up in wonder at him. ‘Thank you.’
Tristan looked faintly embarrassed then, and began to rummage through his pack leaving Naomi to try and rein herself back in again. It had been so long since she’d had her own sword. She hadn’t realised what a hole it had left in her, and turned the new blade over in her hands carefully.
‘This is for you as well,’ Tristan spoke, sounding gruff as he offered her something else. She looked up in surprise at the woven charm hanging from the long, braided skeins of silk. It looked like a spider web, but glistened with a metallic power that could have been magic if it hadn’t felt so odd.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘It’s a charm to hide you from unwanted spells,’ he looked meaningfully at her, and as she took it from his hands, she immediately felt a change in herself. The well of power that had been growing the last few days as the Bond spell with Arun had strengthened suddenly became muted. It was still there, but she had to concentrate to feel it, as though it was hidden by a shroud of shadows. If Arun had meant to find her, now he had no chance.
Slipping the charm over her head to hang around her neck, she looked gratefully up at Tristan. ‘Thank you. For everything.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he nodded, standing at last to take his leave. He hesitated a moment, as though he might reach out to her again, then took a step back. ‘Promise to take care of yourself until I see you next?’
‘Of course,’ she smiled. ‘I always do.’
‘I mean it. Please.’ he quietly begged, before turning his back on her and striding quite quickly out of the cottage, closing the door behind him.
Naomi looked a little sadly after him, knowing he obviously was very concerned for her and didn’t approve in the slightest of her decision to strike out on her own. Still, she knew she was doing the right thing for herself, and if she could achieve her goals and keep her freedom, she would do it.
*
The Watcher walked quickly away from the cottage in the forest until it was no longer in view. He turned numerous times, as though expecting to be followed, and listened carefully before continuing onwards. It was only when he reached the wall of the town of Pearpetal that he seemed to relax slightly, and waited. If anyone had followed, they might have thought his behaviour little more than slightly suspicious, only to be confirmed when an exact duplicate of himself walked out from the trees to stand before him.
It had taken more magic than he could really spare right now, but finally Arun released the glamour spell over himself and returned to his own form. As he reoriented himself, the real Tristan nodded in greeting.
‘I take it you were unsuccessful?’
Arun took a deep brea
th and tried to steady his spinning vision. He was still very weak from using his last magic reserves only days before, and along with the spells it had taken to make the sword and the charm, as well as this final disguise, he felt as though he could go back to sleep for a good month. It had been important to him though, to see her one last time and try to convince her to change her mind about refusing him. He had known she wouldn’t want to see him, and had been pleasantly surprised by Tristan’s offer of help. It seemed The Watcher felt Naomi was making a rash decision, despite Arun’s self-deprecation of his more recent actions towards her, and was sure that with a little time to herself and some friendly insistence, she might change her mind.
‘Did she know?’ Tristan pressed, perhaps concerned that his part in the deception had been discovered. He looked relieved when Arun shook his head.
‘It probably helped that even she wouldn’t expect me to sink to impersonating you,’ he admitted, guilt gnawing at him. He thought back to her reaction to the few times he had reached out to touch her and flinched at the stolen moments. ‘I did slip up, though. She may work it out later.’
‘Ah well,’ the younger man shrugged a shoulder. ‘I am certain we can make the best of it when it happens, Your Majesty.’
Arun was certain they would have no choice but to try, but when she discovered he had again betrayed her trust and boundaries, he knew there was going to be hell to pay. It would probably have been easier had Tristan simply gone and told her his own feelings on the matter, but The Watcher had immediately nixed this plan when it had been suggested. He claimed that Naomi could tell when he was lying, and suspiciously minded as she was, would instantly work out that they had been plotting together. He had suggested the glamour spell, knowing it was a much bigger lie that she was unlikely to ever consider being played at her expense, and as Arun had been itching to see for himself that she was recovering her health, he had gone along with the plan.