I tipped her chin up until her eyes met mine. “Is that what you think of me? Am I a brutish beast? I have never hurt you. I would never hurt you. I loved you, Kymber.” I stopped short of telling her I still loved her. “Do not judge me by the actions of others.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“I understand.” I extended a hand. “Come. I’ve moved our camp away from the bodies so we can eat in peace.”
She huddled against the rock, her eyes closed. “Leave me, Magnus. I am not whole. I can’t forget. Garai haunts me when I’m awake and even into my sleep.”
“I will not abandon you again.”
“You did not abandon me the first time.”
“I wasn’t there when you needed me. I won’t take you anywhere but Adamar. You may as well get it right in your mind that you’re staying with me until you breathe your last. My compassion is given without condition. You need not like me, Kymber, but it would mean a great deal if you would accept my offer.”
“Do you understand I’m not the woman you remember? If you only knew the things I’ve done, you’d want to cut my throat too. I have terrible nightmares and . . .”
“I don’t care. I won’t leave you.”
Hiding her face in the crook of her arm, she shook with sobs. I waited patiently for her to finish. She finally turned those beautiful eyes up to me. “What choices do I have?”
A loaded question. I had to answer with care. “If you truly want to go back to the caves, I’ll take you there, but you’ll be in even more danger than you were before. You’re still sick and weak, whether you want to admit it or not. Why would you turn your back on food, shelter, and safety?”
“Damn you.” A trembling sigh escaped her. “All right then. I accept your offer. It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good boar when we are both so hungry. Will you take me back to the fire?”
“Of course I will.” I extended my hand. She took it and rose; we spent several long moments staring at one another.
Could I help her work through her memories? I had no idea, but I knew there was still strength inside her even if she did not.
5: KYMBER
The men arrived at our camp not long after Magnus left to hunt. I didn’t need to understand their language to understand their intent. The gleam in their eyes, the way they licked their lips, and the fact that they’d moved to surround me spoke volumes.
I was entertainment for the evening.
A panicked wildness clawed at my ribs, so strong my ears rang and the night sky whirled around me. Thankfully, I’d remembered how to close myself off. When at the mercy of another, it was crucial not to think or feel. A useful skill, and one that couldn’t be taken away, like a sword.
Or a hand.
The men pushed me around between them for a few tense moments, then forced me to sit by the fire. It had been agony, knowing what they meant to do. Garai had given me away to two men several times. Never three.
I’m not sure they knew I traveled with a companion. There was only one horse, and they’d quickly taken possession of it.
Part of me expected Magnus to give in to them. To share me. I’d been amusement for Garai’s closest friends. Why should Magnus be any different?
But he was different. He’d pulled his sword in my defense. Even more surprising was the fact that a bit of my warrior’s instinct remained. I’d ducked and made my escape as soon as I felt the tribesmen loosen their grip on my arms.
Magnus had slaughtered them all for threatening me.
No one defended me during my captivity. No one ever came forward and said to Garai, “I will not allow you to hurt her again.”
Magnus still loved me. Such a pity I couldn’t return that love. I was hollow inside. There was just a weak sense of self-preservation, and not even much of that anymore. The thought made me cry so hard I could barely breathe.
Staying with him wouldn’t be the worst thing I could do, though it felt as though I were whoring myself for food, clothing, and a roof over my head.
What choice did I have if I expected to live free? My hand was a mess; I couldn’t fight anymore. A crippled woman living alone was an easy and tempting target.
Then Magnus said, “My compassion is given without condition.”
That was the man I remembered. I’d be safe with him. He wouldn’t expect anything in return. I could live out my life in peace.
The truth was excruciatingly painful. I was a pale imitation of my former self, and I wanted Magnus to know just how bad it truly was. I didn’t ever want him to wish he’d walked away from me at the caves.
Though not spoken as such, I gave him my terms: “Do not look at me and think of the future. I make no promises.”
He agreed to my terms without hesitation.
What else could I do but agree to his?
6: KYMBER
I knew we were nearing Magnus’s home by the smell of the salt air. I had only been near the sea two or three times, but I remembered the fresh breeze and the incomparable feeling of freedom. I remembered how endless and vast it seemed as the water rubbed against the horizon and swallowed the sun. I thought for sure it spilled off the edge of the world, but Magnus said you could ride the waves and never fall.
The wind carried the distant call of sea birds to my ears. Their song was unfamiliar, but comforting. Could I make a new life in Adamar?
A warrior’s existence seldom brought them to such a place. Magnus told me that others may kill for land or treasure, but the people who relied on the sea for sustenance rarely fought with one another. Those who rode atop the blue-green waters knew better than to try and tame it. Capable of both benevolence and death, the sea gave its abundance only to those who showed respect. Since many hands harvested the bounty, each human life was precious to those who lived at water’s edge.
If only everyone understood such basic truths.
Magnus’s villa soon came into view. He called it Seacrest. I called it breathtaking. The outside walls were a combination of large, dark wooden beams and tan stucco. The numerous windows actually had glass in them; even from this distance, the panes glistened like jewels. His house was three stories high, perched precariously on a basalt cliff overlooking the Jahr Sea.
“Aren’t you afraid a storm will sweep your home into the water?” I asked.
“No. Storms generally come from that direction.” He pointed off to his right. “We’ve weathered our share of them though. I guess you never know.”
“No. I guess you don’t.” I didn’t understand how he could be so nonchalant about it.
“Do you like it?” He half-turned in the saddle to ask.
“What I can see of it is beautiful.”
He guided the horse over and down a rolling slope. A massive formal garden hid most of the front of the house. A line of columnar pines marked the property’s borders; a tan, brick-lined walkway began just outside a double gate forged of twisted black iron.
He stopped his horse. “Does it look like home to you?”
“Yes.” I took a deep breath and allowed cautious joy to ring in my words. “Yes, it does look like home.”
A young groom met us in front of the house to take the horse back to the stable. After tossing the reins to the boy, Magnus took my arm and escorted me down the walkway. He stopped for a moment to grin, then he pushed the front door open wide. “Welcome home, Kymber.”
I stepped into a small, dark alcove. It was cool, though the day was quite hot. Another wooden door, a twin to the first, lay before us. Magnus reached around me to open it.
A tall man with wavy auburn hair stood stiffly just beyond the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him. He was dressed in red satin pants and an elaborately embroidered tunic of the same color. His wide smile was for Magnus only, as it quickly disappeared when he laid eyes on me.
“This is Tomas, my manservant.” Magnus gestured at the man. “He has care of the house and grounds when I’m not in residence. If you need anything,
just ask him.”
“Hello, Tomas.” I extended my hand. The man cast a wary glance at Magnus.
“Tomas, this is Kymber Oryx. She’ll be staying with us permanently,” Magnus said. “I want you to put her in the east room so she can see Seacrest’s glorious sunrises. I trust it’s in a habitable condition?”
“Permanently?” The man coughed once and reached for my hand.
“Permanently. As in forever. She’s going to live here with me,” Magnus said. “I’ll explain everything to you and the staff later. I had no idea I was going to run across her in my travels, but I’m not letting her go now that I’ve found her.”
Tomas flushed red. An uneasy coldness suddenly struck me. The man didn’t want me there.
“I don’t wish to cause trouble,” I said, glancing between Tomas and Magnus. An odd tension hummed between them. “If that room is not ready, I could stay in another.”
“Nonsense. The east room, Tomas. She has a few clothes in this saddlebag.” Magnus dropped the leather bag from his shoulder to the floor. “She’ll be decorating the room to her liking as well.”
“What?” I looked at Magnus. “Decorating?”
“I want you to love it here. You have an unlimited amount to spend.” He took my hand and kissed it.
I nearly laughed aloud – after all, I’d been living in a cave on the outskirts of civilization – but Tomas coughed again and glared at me. Magnus didn’t seem to notice. The strain in the room was as thick as the fog that hung over Shalvet Moor.
“I’m sure the room will be fine as it is, but we can talk about that later. Why don’t you show me around? Tomas, I can take my own things upstairs. No need to fuss over me.” I bent to pick up the leather satchel at Magnus’s feet.
“I’ll take them, mistress. It’s my job.” Tomas bowed, snatched the saddlebag off the floor, and marched toward the stairs tucked into the corner of the room.
“You’ve upset him by bringing home a stray,” I said as I watched him go. “One more person for him to look after.”
“And he’ll do it.” Magnus took my arm and led me out of the alcove. “I pay him well enough. What do you think of the house so far? This is the sitting room.”
The room was large and impressive, with couches and divans set here and there to good effect. A massive stone fireplace commanded the far corner. Made of small boulders piled from floor to ceiling, it looked like a solid waterfall.
The tall, bare windows, an airy, high ceiling, and the room’s earthy colors – ochre, brown, and gold with intermittent splashes of olive green – gave me the impression I was still outside.
Cool tile floors, rounded archways. Dark wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling. Several brown carpets with fluffy gold tassels were tossed upon the floor. Oil paintings of various sizes in gilt and mahogany frames adorned the walls.
Magnus had obviously found something to do after I was taken. Something that paid very well. I wanted to know what that something was, but I was afraid to ask. All I could think was that he’d made a life without me. I kept forgetting he thought I was dead.
“Beautiful.” I worked to quash the feelings of betrayal and abandonment, but they lingered. He’d been living in luxury. There were nights I’d slept naked and locked in a cage, lying in my own filth.
He held my hands, his brow creased. “Kymber, what’s wrong?”
Gods, this hurt. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m not used to this . . . this luxury.”
“Well, get used to it.” Magnus leaned forward – I thought he was going to kiss me – then rocked back on his heels. “Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
The kitchen was equally spacious. I could picture a dozen women gathered around the butcher block island in the center of the room, kneading bread dough for supper. Cooking pots of every imaginable size hung from twisted wrought iron hooks overhead. Bundles of basil, dill, and peppermint dried on a table near the fireplace.
The fireplace! A cavernous marvel of engineering, it could only have been the brainchild of Magnus Tyrix. It was a small room, to put it plainly, built into one wall. It looked capable of accommodating three or four fires as the cook walked between them to tend the food. Pot cranes were bolted into the stones and pushed off to one side, awaiting the black iron kettles they would soon hold.
I was astonished to see a narrow clay aqueduct come through the wall and end in a rectangular glazed clay sink.
“Running water?” I brushed my fingertips over the open conduit. “Another of your inventions?”
“Of course.” Magnus smiled with pride. “It has its flaws, but I’m working them out.”
A thin woman hurried through the back door and grabbed the apron hanging there on a nail. She slipped it over her head and tied it behind her, oblivious to us standing there.
“Mrs. Toolwin,” Magnus said softly.
The woman gave a breathy gasp and jumped. “You gave me a fright, Mr. Tyrix. I didn’t see you there.”
Her questioning gaze landed on me. The cook was middling age with a careworn face and gray hair, but when she smiled, it was as though an endless rainy day had finally seen the sun. “And who’s this? Did you bring a guest home for supper tonight?”
“I’ve brought her home permanently. She’ll be staying here with me. This is Kymber Oryx. Someone I knew from long ago.”
Mrs. Toolwin gripped my hands, her own small and warm and welcoming. “Delighted, child. I’ll cook up something extra special for you tonight.”
“Kymber, this is Hermosa Toolwin, the best cook in Adamar.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I said, still holding her delicate fingers in mine.
The cook blushed. “Ah, Mr Tyrix, you’re just saying that because it’s true. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get right to cooking. Danna and Cinthi should be here any moment.”
I turned to him as we walked away. “Why do you employ so many women to cook when it’s just you?”
“I have them take most of what they make into the slums of Adamar. To feed the hungry.” He steered me down a short hallway.
I stopped abruptly and caught him by the wrist. “Magnus, that’s very generous of you.”
“Well, I have more than I need. I know what it’s like to be hungry.”
I nodded. So did I.
He led me into a smaller room. My heart skipped a beat. Natural oak cases filled with every imaginable type of weapon lined the walls. Swords, pikes, maces. I saw several katanas.
We were required to know and identify every sword ever made in Calari our second year of academy. Their origins, alloys, strengths and weaknesses. A warrior had to know what type of weapon he or she was facing in order to respond appropriately.
Unfortunately, I’d forgotten the names of most of them. I’d had eyes for one sword, and one sword only: Silverlight. Pain bloomed in my breast at the thought of my lost weapon.
“This room is . . . I have no words for this room.” I stopped before a blade that reminded me of Silverlight. My hand itched to wrap around the grip, but a sharp pain moved from my wrist into the center of my palm, reminding me that I would never hold a sword again.
I will never hold a sword again. It hadn’t bothered me up to that point, because I was too busy surviving. Now it was a burning ache. If I couldn’t hold a sword, couldn’t fight, would I still be Kymber Oryx?
Magnus stepped up behind me, as though he’d heard my thoughts. “I’d like to have a look at that hand. I think my physician friend can help you.”
I turned away. “No. Let it go. I can’t.”
“Has anyone ever examined it?”
“In Pentorus?” I laughed. “Someone would’ve had to care first.”
In fact, someone had cared. Tavia Thrallkeld, the healer’s assistant, had taken pity on me at first, until Garai found out about our . . . relationship . . . and quickly put an end to it.
“Then you don’t know if treatment would help you.”
“What type of treatment?”
“Warm water. Massage. Exercise. The muscles and tendons of your fingers are frozen, but perhaps they can be loosened.”
I thought about it for a moment. “Suppose I let your physician friend have a look at me. What if he can’t help me?”
“Then we’ll know, at least.” Magnus put one arm around my shoulders. “Will you let me examine your hand later on, after supper? I need to know the extent of the injury. I won’t do anything without your consent though. This will be on your terms.”
I took a slow breath. What did I have to lose? The worst the physician could say was that my hand would remain forever stiff and useless. If there was a chance I could wield a sword again, shouldn’t I take it?
I was terrified to try, yet terrified not to.
I nodded at the case before me, at the short, straight sword with the leather-bound handle. “That one. If I’m ever able to hold a sword again, I want that one.”
“Done.” He took me into his arms, the embrace of a friend.
I pushed him back with a finger in his chest. “The techniques, the moves are still in my head. Will you train me?”
“Of course I will.” His eyes lit up like stars in a summer sky. “I’m pleased that you’d think enough of me to ask.”
I stared at the sword behind the glass. Endless possibilities lay before me, if…
If I could just get over my fear of everything.
7: MAGNUS
I’d been eager to show Kymber my weapons room, though I had not expected a positive response.
She favored her maimed hand, often trying to hide it by tucking it under her arm. She still thought like a warrior though. I had hoped a fine blade would trigger an enthusiastic response, and I was not disappointed. She’d asked for a specific sword, one that I knew reminded her of Silverlight. I couldn’t have been more pleased.
My Kymber was still in there. I just had to find a way to coax her out.
Mrs. Toolwin outdid herself that night. Roast lamb and dumplings served with a fine mustard and herb sauce. Kymber was overwhelmed by the amount of food set upon the table. It warmed my heart to see her load her plate, the first step to getting some meat on her bones.
Silverlight Page 5