Nightblood

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Nightblood Page 8

by Elly Blake


  Sometimes nostalgia was a gut-wrenching thing, other times sweet. At that moment, the memories were more sweet than bitter. Feeling lighthearted for the first time in a long while, I was seized by an impulse to perform a bit of mischief. With my hood pulled up, he wouldn’t know who I was. How would he react if a random monk suddenly grabbed him and kissed him square on his beautiful, unsuspecting lips?

  Filled with anticipation, I hid my face and waited near the stable, my hands tucked in my sleeves.

  The chestnut stallion thundered up. Arcus dismounted before the horse had completely stopped, his dark blue cloak swirling.

  “Tend my horse, please, brother,” he said, breathing hard. “Or sister?” He stopped and peered at me. I felt his scrutiny. He knew all the monks and must wonder who I was. I cursed inwardly that my fun might be over so soon.

  “Where is Brother Thistle?” he asked, his voice hard. I bent my head down to hide a smile. He still hadn’t figured out who I was.

  I shook my head, turning to take his horse’s reins. Maybe he would think I was a novice, a particularly shy one. He paused, then turned and strode toward the abbey, his boots crunching over the snow.

  Just then, four monks exited the abbey carrying the edges of a blanket with a figure stretched out and covered in a white shroud. Their voices carried in the cold, clear air.

  “She was so young,” said Sister Arbella, a middle-aged monk with a wide smile lacking several teeth. Her usual gap-toothed grin was nowhere in evidence as she carried one corner of the blanket.

  “And the illness took her so quickly,” agreed Brother Clarence, a heavyset, serious monk who often helped in the kitchen. “Brother Thistle is devastated. The loss is great to all of us, but he was especially fond of her.”

  Up until then, their heads had been bowed, but at that point Brother Clarence looked up and noticed the tall, silent figure watching their progress.

  “Young Arcus… Oh! I meant Your Majesty, forgive me.” He became flustered. “Please excuse us. As you can see, we have a sad task to carry—”

  “Stop,” Arcus interrupted, his voice thick.

  The procession halted, and he stood there, staring down at the small, covered body.

  I suddenly remembered how attached Arcus was to all the monks. My enthusiasm for that little act of mischief soured. How could I have forgotten the fever sweeping through the abbey? According to Brother Gamut, Sister Cordelia hadn’t been expected to last the day. It must be her corpse being carried outside to a shallow temporary grave, with a proper burial to take place in the spring when the ground thawed.

  As these thoughts flashed through my mind, a terrible possibility occurred to me.

  What if Arcus had received the message about my fever but Kai hadn’t crossed paths with him? The message had said I was gravely ill. He might think—

  I dropped the reins, lifted the hem of my robe, and broke into a run. Arcus’s hand trembled as he reached toward the cloth.

  “Your Majesty, you could catch the fever!” Sister Arbella warned him in a shrill voice. “Even Frostbloods are susceptible. You must not!”

  “I will see her,” he insisted, sounding both determined and frightened.

  “Arcus, don’t!” I cried out, my heart pounding hard with regret at the way my silly joke had gone awry.

  At the sound of my voice, he swung around. Every scrap of color had left his face. My hood came off as I ran, and his knees buckled.

  He caught himself and straightened, his eyes widening.

  I stopped a few feet away, panting. “I’m here! I’m fine! I only meant to play a trick on you.”

  “A… trick?” he whispered. He was silent for several heartbeats. Then his face twisted.

  “Surprise?” I forced a wobbly smile.

  With no more warning than a puff of frigid air against my forehead, he clamped his hand over my upper arm and frog-marched me toward the abbey. As I felt his anger rise, mine rose to meet it.

  I whacked at his hand until he loosened his hold, but the menacing glint in his eyes told me he was ready to tear someone’s head off.

  “If you’re going to yell,” I said, jerking my chin toward the guesthouses, “at least do it in private.” The monks didn’t need to hear him shouting when they were grieving.

  Ripping my arm free, I strode off, hearing his angry strides as he followed. At the correct door, I stopped and turned. He yanked it open and swept me in, slamming it behind us.

  I took a quick breath and attempted to ward off the worst of the coming storm with an explanation. “This is all just an unfortunate misunderstanding. I saw you arrive and I thought—oof!”

  He crushed me to his chest with such force that air left my lungs in a rush. He was shaking violently as he pressed himself against me, my back cushioned by his arms, which rested on the wall.

  My guilt increased as he just stood there, holding me, shudders wracking his body.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” I gasped out.

  “Scare me?” His grip tightened. “You nearly killed me!”

  “And you’re… trying to return the favor?” I sucked in air when he let me go.

  He collapsed on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his head cradled in his hands. “You will be the death of me!”

  “I wasn’t thinking. We never have the opportunity to have, well, fun together.…” I trailed off as he lifted his head and impaled me with an icy-blue stare.

  “That was your idea of fun?” His jaw tightened. “Did you send me the message as part of your trick?”

  “No! No, of course not. Brother Thistle sent the message. When I saw you arrive, I assumed Kai had caught up to you to say I had recovered. It was just an impulse to, I don’t know…”

  “Test the strength of my heart?”

  “I thought I might… pretend to be a novice and then… kiss you?” I cleared my throat. “I didn’t plan it too thoroughly.”

  He regarded me with horrified fascination. “Do you ever plan anything, thoroughly or otherwise?”

  His head returned to his hands. It didn’t seem as if he wanted an answer to his question. The frost he’d put on the wall melted with the heat of my back as I leaned against it, wondering what to say or do. At least his breathing was quieting, his hands steadier.

  I pushed away from the wall, moving closer with slow steps. “Are you extremely furious or just angry?”

  “Both.”

  Another step closer. “I hope you don’t blame anyone else. Brother Thistle didn’t know about my little game.”

  “Oh, I know! He would never do anything so idiotic. Pretending to be a monk so you can surprise me with a kiss!” He raised his head and glared. “When I’ve ridden here half-mad with worry, all the while wondering whether I’d make it in time.”

  “Kai was supposed to meet you on the road and tell you I was fine. You didn’t see him?”

  He shook his head, steely eyed. “No.”

  “Oh. That’s… bad.”

  “Yes. It is. If anyone else had scared me like that, I’d crack their skull.”

  “You rarely crack skulls. So messy.”

  “Come here.” Something settled in his frozen gaze. There was heavy intent in those eyes.

  “I’m quite comfortable here.” I inched away.

  His long arms reached out and snagged my waist. Though his expression was stony, his hands were gentle. He pulled me close until I stood between his knees.

  “Show me the rest of your trick.”

  “The rest?”

  “The part where you surprise me. Finish what you started.” He gathered me closer, waiting, lifting his brows in challenge. “Get on with it. Shock me, little novice.”

  My lips tucked up on one side. This was a penance I would willingly pay.

  I very slowly tilted my head, taking my time to fit my mouth snugly against his. He inhaled at the contact. Heat surged through me. Then one of his hands came to cradle my head, the other sliding to my back as he pulled me off bal
ance and twisted. I landed on the bed with a muffled thump, protected by his arms. He braced his weight on his elbows and moved over me, our lips still fused. His tongue came out to touch my lips until they opened. The kiss turned hard, almost bruising. Heat soared through my veins.

  “This was supposed to be… my trick, not yours,” I muttered between kisses.

  He smiled against my lips.

  We explored each other’s mouths until it felt like my fever had returned. My hands found their way under his tunic and creeped up his chest. He growled and pulled away.

  “This was supposed to be your punishment,” he said in a gravelly voice that made me shiver. “Not a reward.”

  “Oh, I feel punished,” I assured him. “This is awful. Please stop.”

  I cupped his face and guided him back down. His hands smoothed over my cheeks, my hair, my shoulders and arms. I smoothed my palms up his neck to cup his jaw.

  He quieted the kiss with teasing slides and nips, and finally drew back, feathering his knuckles down my neck, sliding his thumb against the pulse in the hollow of my throat. “The message said you were gravely ill.”

  I could barely hear him. My heart still drummed frantically in my ears. “I passed out during a vision and I didn’t wake up for a while.”

  “How long?”

  I twitched a shoulder. “A couple of days.”

  “Days?”

  “Brother Thistle said it was a powerful vision. But I’m fine now. Truly.”

  His hands dug into my hair, his fingertips pressing against my skull, holding me immobile as he pierced me with his stare. “Do you know how it felt to see that small figure, unmoving, and to think it was you?” His lids slammed shut. “I’ll be seeing that image in my nightmares for the rest of my life.”

  “I really am sorry.”

  He opened his eyes, the blue more intense than ever. “Is there some part of you that enjoys tormenting me?”

  I toyed with the silver clasp of his cloak to avoid that penetrating stare. “Mostly I just wasn’t thinking.” I flicked my eyes up. “But maybe there is a part of me that enjoys seeing evidence of how you feel about me.”

  “Was it… was it your own impulse?” When I looked at him curiously, he swallowed. “I mean, do you think it was you who decided to do that or was it…?”

  Understanding dawned. He meant the Minax. My mood darkened. “No, I don’t think it had anything to do with it. It was just me, being playful.” I exhaled. “I guess you haven’t seen that side of me often enough to recognize it.”

  “Hmm.” He brushed his lips over my cheek, his fingers dragging through my hair, spreading it out on the quilt. He took his time smoothing each strand, completely focused on the task. The tension that had gripped him before was gone, and I was glad.

  I examined his face, purely to make sure he was all right, I told myself, not because I felt a visceral pleasure from looking at him. I traced my fingers from his forehead down his nobly carved nose, over the scar that dented his top lip, and then along the thicker bottom lip, so enticingly shaped that I felt my stomach tighten. Surely that mouth was created to tempt practical-minded young women into foolishness.

  “How many girls have you kissed?” I asked idly.

  “Well, if that isn’t a change of subject, I don’t know what is.” His lips curved, making them more wickedly attractive. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “No. It will no doubt irritate me.”

  He laughed. “Not that many.” I gave him a doubtful look, making his grin widen. “It was a long time ago.”

  My eyes flicked up to meet his. “And you were promised to Marella the whole time, weren’t you? For shame.”

  He lifted a brow. “Are we listing indiscretions? I could share my feelings about a certain prince whose teeth I’d like to knock out.”

  “On second thought, maybe we should change the subject.”

  He grinned, then as quickly as a cloud covering the sun, his face grew somber and he pulled me close, crushing me against him. “I truly thought you might be dead. Do you have any idea how that felt?”

  “Don’t want to think about it. You are never allowed to be anything but healthy.”

  He sat up, pulling me next to him, one arm wrapped around my waist. “Tell me about this vision that made you sleep for two days.”

  “Oh. Well, Brother Thistle and I had this idea of how I might contact Sage.”

  I explained about the relic and related the details of the vision, then added my recent dream about the gods and Eurus. When I told him about the rift in the Gate, his arm tightened around me, but he didn’t speak until I was finished.

  “We’ll sail for the pirate island as soon as we can,” he said finally, “but you do know I need to go to the capital first?”

  “Of course. Frostbloods and Firebloods have to work together on this. If frostfire is the only weapon we have against the Minax, we need to use it.”

  “First, we need to find out if anyone other than royalty can create it.”

  “Kai and Brother Thistle are going to test it. They probably would have this morning if Kai hadn’t gone to find you.” I gasped. “You said you didn’t see him. What if he went off to search for you and something happened to him?”

  “He’s fine. I saw him leaving the other guesthouse when I dragged you in here. He probably overslept and slunk away to hide until you calmed down.”

  “It wasn’t me who needed to calm down! He saw us and he didn’t come to rescue me from your wrath? That traitor!”

  “As if you’d ever need rescuing from me.”

  “You nearly bruised my ribs!”

  “I’m sorry my extreme relief that you were alive caused you discomfort.”

  “You’re not sorry, you brute. See how you like it.” I wrapped my arms around him, tightening them as much as I could.

  His laugh shook me. “You’re stronger than you look, my little bundle of firewood.”

  I grinned up at him, letting go. “You haven’t called me that for a long time. Not since we lived here in the abbey.”

  “Is that right, Lady Firebrand?” He stole a quick kiss. “I’m glad you remember. I will never forget any of the things we said to each other here. Even the names you called me.”

  “Icy Tyrant?”

  “And Miserable Blockhead.”

  “I have a way with nicknames.”

  He dropped his head to my shoulder and nuzzled my neck. “You have a way of tying me in knots. Making me feel more alive than I ever did before.”

  I put my palms to his cheeks and smiled. “You have that same gift.”

  ELEVEN

  WE LEFT THE ABBEY SHORTLY AFTER dawn, stopping at the nearby garrison to pick up more guards to add to the handful who had accompanied Arcus from Tevros. A dozen soldiers served as our escort in case we ran into any trouble from the Blue Legion.

  I rode a chestnut mare, but only because my first choice of mount had been more than skittish around me. When I’d tried to coax Butter—the yellow mare I used to ride at the abbey—from her stall, she’d spooked and reared, her screeches of fear sending the other horses into a frenzy. I’d given her time to calm, then tried to approach her again, but she had behaved the same, her violent reaction forcing me to choose a different horse. Even though I understood it was the Minax, and not me, that she objected to, her rejection stung. My old friend was a friend no longer. At least the chestnut mare tolerated me, so she would have to do.

  As our group passed through villages, people stopped what they were doing and stared. We must have made a pretty procession, our glossy horses high-stepping through drifts in the gently falling snow. The soldiers wore blue tunics with the white-arrow symbol of the Frost King over fur-lined coats or vests. Arcus had donned his fine indigo cloak with the silver clasp over dark trousers and worn but well-oiled leather boots.

  Brother Thistle wore the brown robes of Forwind Abbey, and I wore my old red tunic and black leggings, which had stayed at the abbey in my absence. Ka
i thought I should make more effort to dress the part of a princess, but I reminded him I only put on the royal airs when necessary. I promised to look the part when we arrived in Forsia.

  Kai was traveling in style in a white doublet—to blend with a Tempesian winter, so he said—which contrasted nicely with his black breeches and shining black boots.

  If pedigree were judged by the polish of one’s boots, Kai would outrank us all.

  Despite bitter winds and drifting snow, we reached the city of Forsia in a lean six days. Wherever the road was impassible, Kai and I, along with the masters, had melted the snow. It was tiring work, but satisfying—like clearing cobwebs from a neglected room. I only wished that the Blue Legion could be swept aside as easily.

  We picked up fifty warriors from the estate of Lord Pell—along with the lord himself, a loyal friend who had supported Arcus when he retook the throne from his brother. His forces were extra protection in case we encountered trouble in the capital. I worried aloud that even with the Fireblood masters, our numbers wouldn’t be enough to take the castle by force if the Blue Legion held power.

  “We won’t need to,” Arcus assured me as he rode beside me on a bay stallion he’d picked up at an inn. We’d changed horses often to make good time, which meant I was saddlesore, aching, and weary. “But if I’m wrong and we’re attacked, these troops will hold off the castle forces until we can escape.”

  As it turned out, we encountered no resistance when we reached the city. The garrison guards at the foot of Mount Fors recognized Arcus immediately and showed him through the gate with deference, which meant the Blue Legion hadn’t yet poisoned the capital’s soldiers against their king.

  However, their respect didn’t extend to the rest of us. The Frostbloods’ eyes clung to the Fireblood masters with suspicion. Kai grinned and winked at one of the guards, who blushed blue, blinked twice, then looked away. She kept stealing looks at him from the corner of her eye, which brought a slight, satisfied smile to Kai’s lips.

 

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