“Esma, he is in the tribes, too. He is everywhere. Did you never understand that?”
Minerva shook her head. “I couldn’t stay. Everywhere I looked, there were reminders of my husband. It hurt too much. The earth wisdom couldn’t save me.”
“It wasn’t supposed to,” Alfrig said. “It was only a piece of you.” She paused. “There is one other who might help you.”
Hope rose in Minerva’s chest. She raised her eyes. “Yes?”
“The wisdomkeeper.”
She would have me go to the one who is closer to the earthspirit than anyone—the very keeper of it all? Alshada, I can’t! But it was more hope than she’d had for weeks. If anyone can shed me of this magic, this pain, it would be the wisdomkeeper. The nameless crone lived in the far north, seen only by select earth guardians who sought her for knowledge of the deepest secrets of the earthspirit. “Have you met her?” she asked Alfrig.
The traitha’s mouth tightened. “Once. Before I wed Hrogarth, I sought her for—” She bit off the words. “I will tell you another day.”
“And you would take me there?”
Alfrig nodded. “If you wish. If you will agree to do what she says.”
Minerva nodded, eager. “Yes. Of course, yes. Even to my death—just to be rid of this—”
A sad smile crossed Alfrig’s mouth. “Youth promises what age regrets,” she said, quiet. She stood. “We will set out tomorrow. I will discuss preparations with Edgar and Nedra.” She left the hut.
Minerva stared at the cup of oiska in front of her and finally drank it. It went down easier the second time. She stood and followed Alfrig with the fire of the oiska burning in her chest as strong as the magic in her palm.
Chapter Thirty
My heart is broken, for the one I rejoice in is no more.
Alshada, I seek your presence. Fill my soul again.
— Songs of King Aiden, Book 25, Verse 1
The first days after Connor left Galbragh passed in a blur for Mairead. Elizabeth and Melik took her into the town, and Henry offered to pay for anything she wanted or needed, but nothing interested her. She found herself looking toward the leatherworking shops and blacksmithy with longing. When she found a peddler selling a well-made bow, she asked Melik for the money to buy it.
He frowned even as he handed over the coins. “Why? You have me for protection. You have no need for weapons.”
She tested the weight and draw of the bow. “I’m good with a bow, and Connor took his when he left. I like to hunt.” And I won’t sit around helpless, waiting for him to come back. I’ll figure out my own path.
Melik bought the bow and a quiver of arrows for her. He joined her when she went to the archery yard that night to practice. “Your aim is flawless,” he said.
She fired again. “Connor taught me.”
“Truly? I would have thought that you had been practicing your whole life.”
“No. I just have a talent for it.” She nocked, aimed, and fired another perfect shot.
Henry was an ideal host. The third night after Connor left, Mairead found Henry dining alone in his study. “Your highness? Where’s Lady Elizabeth?”
“She had a party. Melik took her.” He stood. “Please, join me.”
She arranged the skirts of her linen dress and sat across from him. He poured wine and offered it to her. “Are you working?”
“Trying to.” He smiled and held up his goblet. “You provide a pleasant distraction.” She lifted her goblet, and they both drank. “How are you, Mairead?”
“I’m well. You’ve been a gracious host.”
He let silence linger for a moment. “But?”
She twisted the goblet in her hands and considered what to say. “I miss him.” Tears fell. Henry stood and moved around his desk to kneel before her. She took the kerchief he offered and closed her eyes. “What if he dies?”
He put his hands on hers. “My dear, Connor is at his best when he’s on his own creating a bloody swath of destruction.”
The next morning, she woke to knocking. She pulled a dressing gown over her shift and opened the door. Melik leaned against the side of the door with easy grace. His eyes drifted down her body. “I thought you might want to go hunting.”
She blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Hunting? Now?”
“There are some good deer runs just outside of the city. It’s property of the prince, so we shouldn’t run into any slavers.”
I need to do something, even if it’s with him. Days of wandering the city and the palace in pretty dresses chafed her spirit. “Let me dress.”
He inclined his head. “I’ll have horses saddled and find some provisions for us.”
“I’ll meet you in the stable.” She shut the door, pulled on her leathers and tunic, and braided her hair. She picked up the daggers Connor had given her, and a pang of loss went through her. Stop being a foolish girl. He’s gone. He says his path doesn’t align with yours. Accept it. She put the daggers in her boots.
Melik was waiting in the stable with her horse and his own. The big sorrel Connor had ridden was still in his stall, unhappy about the palomino leaving without him. He pranced and tossed his head. “He’s not happy today,” Melik said.
“He doesn’t like being apart from her.” Mairead went to the stall. “Shh, Thunder.”
“Thunder?”
She closed her eyes and put her head against the horse’s nose. “I named them. I never told Connor. I thought he’d find it silly.”
“It’s not silly.” Melik stood close behind her. “The desert horse people in the southern part of the empire believe a horse’s name is given by the gods. A horse isn’t to be ridden until he’s named.”
She put her hands against the sorrel’s neck. Thunder gave her a low whicker. “Saddle another horse. I don’t want him separated from my horse for the whole day.”
“Of course.” Several minutes later, the sorrel and palomino were together in their stall once more, and Mairead had mounted a pretty dark brown mare with a spirited step.
They cantered away from the city and toward the low forest at the edge of the plain. Mairead’s nose and fingers grew cold, and her breath formed white clouds in front of her. The snowfall of previous days lingered, but the sky was clear and bright with the promise of sun. She tried to make conversation when they slowed to a walk. “Do you miss Espara?”
Melik gave a low laugh. “No. Not really. I wasn’t exactly welcome there.”
“But Connor said your aunt—”
“Yes, well, if Connor asked Helene, I’m sure she would welcome me back with open arms. She would sell half her property to have him in her bed.”
Is that where he’ll go? Back to his foreign lady? She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why weren’t you welcome?”
He kept his eyes ahead for some time. “I owe money. A fair amount. I’m trying to earn enough to return and pay my debts, but even an assassin has expenses, and it takes time to kill a man the right way.”
“You speak of it so coldly.” She pulled her cloak tighter around her.
“It’s not hard to kill a man.”
“Do you kill people for Henry?”
He grinned. “No. Henry’s not the type. I do other things—security things, freelancing, reconnaissance. I have no allegiance to anyone. I go where the money is.”
So much like Connor. But he wasn’t. Connor would never be a hired assassin, she was sure. Would he? Isn’t that what the Morrag wants? “Did you warn Connor about Allyn?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He adjusted his reins. The rising sun glinted off his earrings. “Who would I compete with if Connor were dead?”
She laughed at that.
They cantered toward the trees and found the trails. She dismounted and donned her bow and quiver. He walked next to her as they crept along the runs, listening and looking for deer. They searched for some time and then found a patch of dry ground under a fir tree.
Mairead sa
t, drank water, and snacked on apples. “Don’t you want some?” she asked.
He shook his head and toyed with a knife. “I’m not hungry.” He leaned against the tree and carved random shapes in the ground. “Connor told me you grew up poor.”
I’m not going to lie anymore. “Not poor. Just not rich. I was raised in a sayada by the Order of Sai Atena.”
“Then this life is new to you.”
“This life is not for me.”
“A woman with your beauty and grace? Educated? What life do you think you should have?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Melik leaned closer to her. He brushed loose hair back behind her ear. “You are a beautiful woman, Mairead. You deserve to be pampered and pleased.”
She pushed his hand away. “Melik, stop. I’ve seen you with Elizabeth. I know—”
He laughed. “Elizabeth has no exclusive claim on my affections.”
She stood. “We should go.”
He stood as well. “Do you think Connor is pining for you? Regretting leaving your bed? Be assured, my lady. He’s already found several willing tavern girls, and he hasn’t shed a tear for you.”
The self-assured tone angered her. She turned to him and straightened her shoulders. “You don’t know—”
“I do know. I’ve seen him at his finest.” He shot her a cocky grin. “I am him.”
Her face grew hot. “He changed. He respected me. He protected my chastity and my honor.”
Melik blinked in surprise. “Truly? I didn’t know he had such discipline.”
She couldn’t help the smile that flickered across her lips. “He didn’t know it either.”
He inclined his head, and some of the arrogance melted away. “Forgive me, my lady. I should not have presumed—” He stopped. Hoof beats echoed in the distance, approaching at a steady canter. “Someone from the palace is probably looking for you.” He brushed his clothes free of fir needles and dirt. “We can meet them.”
Mairead fed her apple cores to the horses and put her waterskin away. They mounted and turned back toward the sound of the approaching horses, but as the other group came closer, Mairead’s stomach tightened. “Melik, those men aren’t from the palace.”
“I know.”
“Who are they?”
“I guess we’ll find out.” They reined in as the others did, and Melik addressed a tall man with pale green eyes and greasy, sandy-blond hair. “We’ve been looking for deer all morning. Have you had any luck?”
The man grinned. “No need for pretending.” He nodded toward Mairead. “You weren’t lying. She is a beauty.”
They’re here for me. Mairead wheeled her horse in the direction of the palace and kicked her into a gallop. The men shouted and charged after her, but she only leaned lower on the horse’s back and gave the mare open rein to run as fast as she could across the fields. Alshada, help me. Give this horse wings. The thunder of hooves behind her—the gleaming palace in the distance—the men shouting, calling to each other. “Fly, girl. Fly!”
The horse reared with a sharp neigh of pain. Mairead clutched the saddle, but the horse was falling, going down on her side, and Mairead jumped free just in time to avoid her leg being crushed. The horse struggled against the arrow piercing her chest.
Mairead picked up her bow, nocked and aimed an arrow, and fired. One man fell. Nock, aim, fire—another man down, then a horse. The arrows were a blur, but the men weren’t shooting back. Why aren’t they shooting at me?
The six remaining men surrounded her. She prepared another arrow, but something hit her from behind. She fell into the snow. My daggers— She gasped for air, trying to reach her boot, but there was a knee in her back, and then two hands pulled her arms together and tied them at the wrists. The hands yanked her to her feet and turned her toward Melik. She choked, trying to breathe. “Melik?”
Melik still sat in his saddle. “I told you. I have debts.”
She spit blood from a cut on her lip. “What have you done?”
The men all dismounted, Melik included, and he stood with calm self-assurance before the man with greasy hair. “Eight hundred gold pieces. No less.”
The man scoffed. “Eight hundred? You told us six.”
“She’s a virgin. I just found out.”
“Now how did you find that out? And how can I know she still is if you checked yourself?”
“She told me.”
The man approached her. He ran a hand across her body with disquieting familiarity. He opened her cloak and lifted her tunic. Fear rose in her throat as she tried to catch her breath. He lifted her chin, opened her mouth, and looked inside. “She’s pretty enough. A little muscular, but some men like that.” He turned to Melik. “Unspoiled, you say? You’re certain?”
“As certain as I can be. I suppose she could have lied, but she was raised in a sayada. I’m sure her chastity was well-guarded.”
“She traveled with the one Allyn is after. How do you know he didn’t spoil her?”
“He seems to have restrained himself. Unusual, but not impossible.”
The man nodded. “I know you can fire an arrow,” he said to Mairead. “What else can you do?”
She tried to calm her breathing. “Why does it matter if you’re going to kill me?”
“Oh, lass, you’re worth much more to me alive than dead. Can you read?”
She stared at him, resolute, and spit in his face. “Namha take you.”
He pulled out his kerchief and wiped his face. “Give her the venom.”
The man holding her pulled up the sleeve of her tunic, and another man approached with a writhing burlap bag. She struggled against the grip, but the hands were too strong. “Please don’t do this—”
The man opened the bag and reached in with a gloved hand. Mairead saw the head of the snake just before she felt the sting and pain of the bite. She screamed. Her knees went weak with the sudden pain. Her head spun, and in moments, her body started to go numb. Colors and sounds and smells were disconnected; she struggled to breathe.
The sandy-haired man looked at Melik. “Seven hundred.” He walked toward Melik with a purse.
“Done.”
A flash of light. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” said another voice.
Through the haze of the venom, Mairead saw a cloaked man step toward Melik from the edge of the group. Without another word, his hand flicked out, and Melik crumpled to the ground. Sunlight shimmered off the pool of blood at his neck. The snow turned red. She blinked. The world grew hazy. She couldn’t be certain of anything.
The sandy-haired man muttered a sharp curse. “What did you do that for?”
“He’s the reason Mac Niall escaped. He overheard your master planning to kill Mac Niall and warned him to run. When Mac Niall didn’t take the girl with him, this one decided to make some money.” The cloaked man sheathed his dagger.
“More profit for me then, I suppose,” the sandy-haired man said.
“Take her to your master. He can use her to find Mac Niall.”
The man’s face flickered disappointment. “He’ll not pay me for her.”
“You’ll get something better—his gratitude.”
“Fuck his gratitude.”
The dark man sneered. “Trust me.” He disappeared in another flash of light.
Mairead’s head spun and she couldn’t keep her eyes open. The man—the Forbidden—flashes of light—gods, he found me.
The sandy-haired man turned back to her. “Put her on a horse and take her to Allyn’s house, but one of you fetch Phinneas. Allyn might let us take a cut if he can sell her to Phinneas.”
It was the last thing she heard before she lost consciousness.
***
She woke without sense of time or place. The room she lay in was cold, windowless, and smelled of waste and death. Alshada, give me strength. She forced a deep breath. Vision cleared as she blinked and sat up. Her head reeled, and she leaned over to retch.
A
woman was next to her with a chamber pot. Mairead heaved, but there was nothing in her stomach but water and bile. “Lass, ’tis the venom. Makes the strongest of us sick. ’Tis a fair small miracle ye’ve not been sicker.”
Mairead’s stomach roiled and she gasped for breath. “Why?”
“They dinna want to beat ye. ’Tis easier to keep ye quiet with the venom.”
She closed her eyes. “Where am I?”
“In Master Allyn’s house.”
“Allyn. The slaver.” Comprehension washed over her. A slave—that’s why the money, the exam. He wanted to know how much I was worth.
“Aye. Ye’ve bin asleep two days, now. Ach, lass, dinna sit up too quickly.”
Mairead pushed her hand away and struggled to sit up. She closed her eyes as her head reeled again, but she forced herself through the nausea. “I’m all right.” They had put her on a cot with a thin mattress. She was alone but for the woman next to her. The dark room was furnished with the bed, a chamber pot, and a stool. She forced herself to focus on the woman’s dark blue eyes. “Who are you?”
The woman smoothed her plain linen kirtle over her knees. Streaks of gray interrupted the smooth curtain of her coarse black hair. “Ula.”
“Are you a slave?”
“Aye. I belong to Master Allyn.”
“What do they plan to do with me?”
“I dinna know, lass. Master never brings slaves here unless he wants to bed them. He said he’d not bed ye yet—wants a man to look at ye, and wants ye for something else, too. I dinna know what.” She shrugged. “’Tisn’t so bad for a lass such as yourself. The man who’s coming to see ye—Master Phinneas—he buys women for his lord. ’Tis a fair way, I’ve heard. They’ll put ye in fine clothes and give ye all ye want.”
Mairead’s stomach lurched again, and bile rose in her throat. “Except my freedom,” she said.
Ula’s eyes flared with ferocity, and she lowered her voice. “I heard that ye killed two of the bastards.”
Hope stirred. “I could kill more if you could get me a knife.”
Ravenmarked (The Taurin Chronicles) Page 46