by Zaya Feli
When Ren said nothing, Anik raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to invite us back to your camp?”
Ren swallowed and nodded, looking away. This wasn't the time or place for accusations. “Sure.” He waved a hand at one of Evalyne's soldiers. When the woman came over, Ren said, “Return to the princess and let her know we're bringing company.”
CHAPTER SIX
It took Anik no time to catch Ren's horse, for which Ren was thankful. Ren told himself it was because he'd hate to lose the gelding and ignored the other thoughts that jumbled in his head, making it difficult to decide what he felt. At least riding back to camp astride his own horse let Ren preserve some of his pride.
Evalyne was waiting for them. Her expression was one of contained unease when her gaze fell on Anik, and a dozen of her soldiers stood at the ready with their hands on the hilts of their swords. Anik rode into the camp without sparing them a glance. Ren exchanged a brief, reassuring glance with Evalyne before following.
The rain still poured down, but the wind seemed to have lessened. Ren had forgotten how cold he was during the excitement of the fight, but now he was shivering again, clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering.
Anik stopped and dismounted, handing his reins to a soldier. He didn't look at Ren, but waited where he stood, pushing wet hair from his face. He looked as much like a drowned cat as Ren felt.
Ren slipped out of the saddle and handed off his horse, and then it was just the two of them. Ren stared Anik down with what he hoped was indifference, not willing to be the first to give ground. He wanted to be angry and he wanted Anik to know it. “Well?”
Anik cocked his head, finally meeting Ren's eyes. “Can we go somewhere dry?”
Ren shrugged and didn't answer, leading the way towards the centre of the camp. Most people had retreated back into their tents to escape the rain now that the worst of the wind had settled and the camp was no longer at risk of flying away, but Ren didn't miss the stares they received from tent openings as they walked.
Ren led Anik to his tent, stepping inside without holding the canvas flap open. The tent was spacious enough that they could both move around without touching, but Anik was so tall that his head brushed the canvas ceiling if he strayed from the centre. He didn't seem to mind the way Ren stared him down. Silently, he stripped out of his wet jacket and unbuttoned the shirt underneath.
Ren hated how his eyes wandered.
“So you're just going to show up in the middle of the night and pretend you're home?” Ren asked, crossing his arms. A familiar agitation rose in him. He couldn't blame Anik for the surprise and revulsion Ren had no doubt he'd felt when Ren's awful secret had been revealed, but Ren couldn't forgive him for taking off without a word. Anik had promised he'd stay, no matter what, and he had broken his promise.
Anik looked Ren up and down in as if to take in the state of him, then unfastened a small leather bag from his hip and dropped it on the cot, searching through it. “Can you boil some water?” Anik asked, apparently planning to ignore Ren's desire to talk.
Ren raised his brows. “Oh, you're just going to avoid the subject?” he asked, annoyed at the way his voice trembled from the cold.
“Ren, please boil some water,” Anik said over his shoulder as he pulled items from the bag and dropped them on Ren's cot.
Ren felt himself bristle, anger rising in his chest. He kicked the leg of the cot so hard it buckled. “No, I won't, until you tell me what your fucking deal is.”
Anik hissed and grabbed the bag and its contents before they could tumble onto the wet ground. Then he turned, straightened, and gripped Ren by the elbows with surprisingly gentle hands. “Listen, Ren. I'll tell you everything and answer every question you have, but right now, nothing is as important as boiling a cup of water.” In the faint light of Ren's lamp, Anik's eyes were dark and strangely unfocused, as if he hadn't slept in days.
Ren stared at him. What could possibly be so important about a cup of water when Anik had let Ren kiss him and then looked at him with such disgust only moments later?
Ren opened his mouth to argue, but the pleading look in Anik's eyes made him let his breath out in a sigh. “Fine. Whatever,” he said, and pulled out of Anik's grip.
Ren slipped his own drenched jacket off, dropping it on the cot. Then he opened the tent flap to create an awning that would protect the fire from the rain. It wouldn't be a big fire. Everything outside was soaked, and Evalyne's men had only supplied Ren's tent with a small pile of firewood for emergencies, but it should be enough to boil a single cup of water.
“Everything's wet. I don't know if...” Ren trailed off, exhaustion making it hard to think. His shoulder and his back throbbed from the impact with the ground and the kick of the horse.
“Here, I'll do it,” Anik said, taking the bundle of firewood from Ren. He arranged the rocks in a circle, the flat ones in the middle to keep it raised above the grass. Sparks flew when Anik struck the flint and what remained of the wind quickly blew them to life. Anik shielded the tiny flame with his hands to keep it from dying. It was such a normal act, something Ren had seen him do over a dozen times. Part of Ren had been sure he'd never see it again, and another hadn't for one second doubted that Anik would return.
What if he hadn't come to stay?
“Now will you talk to me?” Ren asked, as Anik poured water from a skin into a tin cup and carefully held it over the flames.
“In a moment.”
Ren sighed and turned around. He might as well get himself dry while he waited. He slipped off his jacket and undershirt, wincing when the cut on his shoulder stung. Anik had been right, though – it was shallow. His second set of clothes was not, as he had expected, soaked through. It was still wet in patches, but at least it wasn't covered in mud. Ren glanced back at Anik as he buttoned his clean shirt. Had he intended the strike to be fatal? Had Anik twisted the blade at the last second, away from his throat and to his shoulder? It really hadn't been Ren's fault. He hadn't even seen that Anik was right beside him in the dark.
Anik stood and took the tin cup to the cot, where he reached for a small, neatly folded packet and turned his back to Ren.
Ren didn't say anything, instead sitting down with his elbows on his knees. He wiggled his toes. It felt like there was an inch of water in his boots.
“All right,” Anik said, leaning back after what seemed like several minutes. He held out the tin of steaming liquid to Ren. “Drink this.”
Ren raised an eyebrow. The tin was hot from the water and he accepted it carefully. He looked into it. The liquid was deep red, like wine, but when Ren raised it to his nose, it definitely didn't smell like wine. “What is this?”
“A gift,” Anik said, taking a seat on the cot next to him. His shoulders slumped, but the intensity remained in his gaze.
“Tell me what it is, first,” Ren demanded.
Annoyance flitted over Anik's face and Ren could imagine Anik internally cursing him. “Just drink it, Ren. Please.”
Ren shook his head. “Why won’t you tell me what it is?” he pushed, lowering the cup to rest against his knee. The contents sloshed against the sides and Anik visibly flinched, looking as though Ren had nearly spilled liquid gold.
Anik rubbed a hand over his brow. “Look, you want to repay me for helping you in Endurance? Then do it by drinking that,” he said.
Ren stared at him. Confusion and disbelief mingled in his mind. It was stupid to fight over a cup of strange tea. He shrugged. “Okay, fine.” Raising the cup to his lips, he took a careful sip. He frowned. The taste was unfamiliar, something between bitterness, sweetness, and grass, but it wasn't downright disgusting, so he emptied the cup once his tongue had gotten used to the heat. Warmth settled in his gut and spread slowly to the rest of his body, making him finally stop shivering. Clearing his throat, he handed the tin back to Anik. “Done. Spill.”
“The herb is called wolfsblood thistle,” Anik said, spinning the cup slowly between his hands before stretchi
ng to place it back in the small leather bag. “It only grows in the south, in the Lowlands and in Frayne, closest to the southern border.”
“Is that where you went?”
Anik nodded.
“Why?”
Anik swallowed, pausing to pull the leather band from his hair, letting wet, dark strands fall about his face. “To save your life.”
Ren blinked, then frowned. He tried to piece it all together, but none of what Anik was saying made any sense. “What do you mean?”
Anik raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. He studied Ren with a gaze that pierced to his heart. “What, you don't think I've noticed?”
Realisation hit Ren like a punch in the gut and he took a shallow breath. He knew what Anik was going to say, but he still asked the question. “Noticed what?”
“You were coughing blood in the hideout after the prison escape and again on the way to Sekara. You have the coughing sickness. My people call it blood lungs, and wolfsblood thistle is the only thing that can cure it.”
It was hard to breathe. Ren's lips parted, but no sound came out. His gaze switched from Anik to the leather satchel. “But I don't- I...”
“You Frayneans think there's no cure, but there is,” Anik continued. “My people have used wolfsfblood to cure blood lungs for centuries. Drink it for a couple weeks and you'll be fine.” He picked the little bundle off the blankets and unwrapped it for Ren to see. It was a tiny bouquet of blueish-green stalks with curling leaves.
Ren stared at Anik like he'd just told him the sky was purple. He wasn't going to die? He had been ready to die, and now suddenly, he'd be fine. The world spun. Ren bowed his head and braced it in his hands. His heart raced, but he wasn't sure why. He wasn't dying. He grasped for something, anything, that he could confront and deal with that wasn't as huge as that revelation. “You...you left without a word, gave your sword away and sailed out...to get me a cure?” He raised his head, eyes narrowing. “Why the fuck didn't you just tell me? Or at least left a message? I thought you were gone for good.”
The look in Anik's eyes turned from confidence to sadness, and for the first time, he lowered his gaze. “Would you have let me go? Would you have let me place your health over the safety of the group? There was a battle coming. I was needed there. But I couldn't be in two places at once and we both know you would have sacrificed yourself for the sake of these people. I know you well enough by now to know that you put others before yourself. Even if it might kill you.”
Ren opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn't. Anik was right. Nothing was more important than getting Thais on the throne, and if he had thought that Anik's presence at the battle of Llyne was crucial for their victory, or to ensure Thais' safety, he would have asked him – maybe even ordered him – to stay.
Ren shook his head. There was another unspoken truth between them, one that weighed a lot more than a sickness and a cure. Ren felt the fight drain from his body, leaving only exhaustion behind. “The way you left... The way you looked at me, I-” He rubbed a hand over his eyes and he took a trembling breath. “What you said.”
“You're his son,” Anik said. There was no malice in his tone this time. It was simply a statement, but it still hit Ren like a slap in the face.
“Yeah.”
“Well,” Anik began slowly, leaning back against Ren's pillow. “The wolfsblood wasn't the only reason I left.” Reaching for the cuff of his sleeve, he rolled it up to above the elbow and displayed his forearm to Ren.
Ren leaned in, tilting his head. Above the tattoos he knew, a new pattern of black ink in a slightly darker shade than the rest wrapped around Anik's arm. It looked like a series of angular knots severed in two. “You left...to get a tattoo?”
“You know it's not just a tattoo.”
Ren looked from Anik's arm and back to his face. The air seemed charged. “What does it mean?”
“You know I took an oath to kill Halvard and his entire family. You know that oath included you the moment I found out who your father was.”
Ren looked away.
“I couldn't ignore the oath I had taken,” Anik continued. “Oaths like that are sacred. Breaking them means bringing a dishonour on yourself that you can't even imagine.” His voice trembled faintly before he steadied himself. “To make an oath of strength and then hide from it like a coward – it would haunt me for the rest of my life.” Anik trailed a hand along the shapes of black ink. “This tattoo marks me as an oath-breaker.”
Ren balked, jaw falling open. “What? How is that better?”
Anik huffed a small laugh. “Standing by the decision to break my oath saves me from dishonour. By letting the world see it and not hiding it like a deserter running from the heat of battle, I've instead gained a new strength: the strength to admit my own failure. It's not as heroic or admirable, but I'll live.”
Ren stared at the dark lines on Anik's arm. Anik had travelled for days to the border to find a cure that would save Ren's life and marked himself with a sign of failure for Ren's sake. Time and time again, Anik had put himself on the line to help Ren without expecting a single thing in return except kindness and respect and the chance to bury his sword in Halvard's throat. “The people you came here with tattooed you?” Ren could hear the fragile disbelief in his own voice.
Anik nodded. “While we were in Llyne, Valkon overheard one of the fort guards report a sighting of a group of Lowlanders near the border, following the river into Frayne. It sounded like someone I knew. It was like everything aligned. I gave my sword as payment for a boat ride, and to make sure the guards wouldn't sound the alarm. Then I went south.” He huffed again, shaking his head. “It was supposed to be a short trip. Out and back again in the span of two days. But the sailor took off without waiting, so we had to ride back. By the time we got to Llyne, you were gone. We had to double back, find a safer route, and follow your trail into Skarlan. That's why it took so long. The soldiers we fought in the storm surprised us while we were buckled down for the night. The force was too large for us to take, so we had to break up and make a run for it. That's when you found us.”
Ren blew out a breath. “That was a lucky coincidence.”
Anik laughed. “Very. I knew you had to be close, but I didn't know you were that close.” He blew out a breath and ran a hand over his face. It struck Ren yet again how tired Anik looked. He had to have ridden for days with little sleep, and with little protection against the storm. “Ren... I'm sorry I left the way I did,” Anik continued. “Looking back, it was probably a stupid decision. Nothing prevented me from leaving a damn note. I just-” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Hearing that, you know, it really freaked me out.”
Ren looked down. His heart still raced. It felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. Anik had broken his oath, found him a cure, and saved his life. Again. That had to mean... “So you don't hate me?”
Anik raised his head sharply, a small smile playing on his lips. “No, I don't hate you.”
Their eyes met.
“I got angry, at first,” Anik said. “I felt betrayed. But it wasn't your fault. None of it is. That was kind of a jerk move on my part, huh? I wanted to talk to you before I left, but I didn't know what to say. I didn't give this up.” Reaching inside his undershirt, Anik drew out the leather cord, the silver horseshoe pendant dangling from it.
Ren's heart swelled with a new sense of warmth and he shook his head, mirroring Anik's smile for the first time. “Considering all the trouble you went through for me, I think I can forgive you for walking out.” Reaching out, he trailed his fingertips along the warm skin of Anik's arm. Along the edges of the new lines, the skin was slightly raised. He swallowed against a lump in his throat.“I can't believe you did this for me.”
Anik sat very still, as if afraid to disturb Ren's touch. “I may have developed a bit of a soft spot for you,” he said. He smiled too, when Ren looked up to meet his eyes.
“Yeah? Why on earth would you do that?”
A
nik shrugged. “I ask myself the same thing. You're kind of snappy, like an angry crow chick. I've been lonely for a while though, so I guess I'll take what I can get.”
Ren laughed, nudging Anik's knee. “Shut up.”
A moment passed in silence. Ren knew he had to look like a love-struck youth, but he couldn't help himself. He had been dying, but Anik had saved his life. In more than one way, and at his own expense. No one had ever done something like that for him before, on such an overwhelming scale. “Are you, though? Lonely?” he asked after a while, to fill the silence.
Anik looked down, shrugging one shoulder. Ren could tell he kept his expression carefully blank, but the twitch of the corner of his mouth revealed something different. “After losing my whole family and spending a year locked in a castle dungeon, I kind of started to crave some pleasant company.”
Ren raised his brows. “I've been pleasant company?”
Anik laughed, eyes searching Ren's face. “You sound surprised.”
Ren shrugged. “You can be hard to figure out.” Bit by bit, Ren felt the mess of discomfort in his chest loosen and come undone. Slowly, something else replaced it, something warm and pleasant that tickled his belly like butterflies. They had an army, a plan. He had a cure and Anik had returned. In this moment, things felt better and more complete than they had since Hellic's birthday. “I kept your horse,” he said, because he didn't know what else to say.
The smile that spread on Anik's face was one of pure joy.
“Your sword, too,” Ren continued, angling his head to where it stood, leaned against the tent canvas. “I suppose you'll want it back.”
“I will, thank you,” Anik said, but then his smile faded. “Where's yours?”
Ren groaned. “I had to give it up at Llyne to save us some time. I'll tell you the story later, but it means I'm kind of without a sword. I've been using yours.”
“It's too long for you.”
“I've noticed. My arm is killing me,” Ren said, and absently rubbed at his biceps.