Iron Breakers: The Floodgates (Iron Breakers Book 3)

by Zaya Feli

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ren woke to the feeling of something tugging on his leg. He startled awake, reaching out, then yelped when the movement sent a jab of pain through his right side. “Ah, fuck!”

  “Take it easy. You were shot, remember?” Anik's face appeared in Ren's field of view. He looked down at Ren with a lopsided smile, placing Ren's boot aside.

  Ren closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He felt sweaty and dirty. More than anything, he longed for a bath, but the thought of getting up with the way his shoulder throbbed kept him where he was. “How long was I out?”

  “Not long,” Anik said. He settled by Ren's head with his back against the rock wall that shaded Ren's face from the sun. “Less than an hour.”

  Ren ran a hand over the blanket that had been draped over him. He was cold, even though the air felt warm. “Is it out?”

  “It's out,” Anik confirmed with a small smile. “Jayce does with one hand what most men can't do with two. He fixed you up nicely.”

  Carefully, Ren lifted the blanket. White linen bandages wrapped his chest and shoulder. They were pristine, no blood soaking through. “You were right,” he said, evading Anik's gaze. “I shouldn't have insisted on coming along. The last thing I wanted was to slow you down.”

  “You didn't slow us down,” Anik insisted. He reached out and brushed a lock of hair from Ren's face. It was such an affectionate gesture that it took Ren aback and his eyes snapped to Anik's face, then to the horseshoe necklace that hung outside his shirt. That was the second time in the span of a few days Anik had touched him like that. The butterflies it evoked temporarily replaced the ache in his shoulder.

  “It wasn't your fault the last group got spotted,” Anik continued. “The guards would have cornered us whether you'd been there or not. On the contrary, you're the reason we got out.” He met Ren's eyes, his gaze intense. “You had the key. Without you, we would have been three men against two dozen, and those are some bad odds. Besides,” he shrugged, “I wanted you along.”

  “Do you think Jayce will strangle me if I sit up?” Ren asked.

  Anik smiled. “With one hand? I doubt it. Here, hold onto me.” He helped Ren sit up, slowly, against the cliff next to him.

  “Fuck, I feel like an old man,” Ren complained, leaning his head against the rock. His shoulder pounded even worse than before, but it was worth it to sit upright. “This is bad timing.”

  “Here.” Anik reached for something on the ground, then held a cup of the reddish wolfsblood tea out to Ren. “It's cold now, but it'll still do its job.”

  “Doesn't heal arrow wounds, I'm assuming,” Ren said, swallowing the dark liquid.

  Anik chuckled and shook his head. “Afraid not.” He searched Ren's face with an expression not unlike that of a worried parent.

  Ren couldn't remember having seen Anik so concerned for his safety before, and he couldn't help but take pleasure at the thought. He frowned at the sight of Anik's bandaged wrist. “You're hurt.”

  Anik shook his head. “Just a few cuts and bruises from the fight in the city.”

  Ren looked around “We're still in the gorge,” he said, lowering the cup. It had only just occurred to him. The sun crept higher in the sky and the soldiers around them weren't making any moves to pack up.

  “Evalyne doesn't think it's a good idea to move out in daylight. Even if we're out of sight from Iskaal, the dust we kick up travelling in these numbers won't be. Besides, there are workers in the area now. Patrols riding south. It's dangerous to stay here, but it's more dangerous to move. We're leaving after sundown.”

  Ren sighed, nodding slowly. He drained the last of the wolfsblood tea and passed the cup back to Anik. “If we hadn't been late-”

  “But we got what we came for,” Anik said, strength in his voice. “We're many hundred men stronger now. Fresh fighters who haven't been on the road for weeks. It was worth it.”

  “It was worth it,” Ren echoed, thinking about the Lowlanders in the barracks, shut away like cattle. Then he thought about the way the eyes of the Lowlanders lit up when they saw Anik. The way that woman, Ilona, had embraced him like a son. Ren found himself thinking that if Anik hadn't been so against the idea of kings and rulers, he would have made an excellent one. He had the strength and intelligence to rule, and compassion for his people.

  They were both quiet for a long time. Ren kept his eyes closed, the blanket draped over his lap. He thought about Thais. Had he been in pain when he died? The memory of the sheets and blankets covered in blood flashed through Ren's mind and he forced his eyes open, a faint shudder rolling through his body.

  “It was the dungeon.”

  Anik's voice distracted Ren from his thoughts of death and blood. Ren turned to watch him, although Anik's face was turned away.

  Ren frowned, about to ask, when Anik continued.

  “In the cellar under Iskaal. That dark room. It's where the cells are.”

  Ren's lips parted. The dungeons, where Anik had been kept for a year. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to him. Maybe he hadn't expected the dungeons to be directly below the castle. A cold and clammy place. No daylight, only the light of torches brought in by the people who came to hurt Anik. Nathair. Evalyne had said Nathair had been in charge of handling the prisoners. Another memory flashed through Ren's mind: Anik on the outdoor stage in Aleria, juggling blades at Hellic's birthday. Nathair had grabbed him and Anik had recoiled in fear. Fear of torture. Fear of pain. He had been fresh out of the cells of Iskaal, and even though they had escaped together the next day, Nathair hadn't stopped hunting them. Now more than ever, Ren wished he had managed to kill Nathair during their escape from Endurance. “I'll finish the job,” he said.

  Anik raised his head, eyes searching.

  Ren pushed out his chest despite the ache in his shoulder, tilting up his chin. “I'll kill him next time. He'll never get another chance to hurt you.”

  A slow smile spread across Anik's face. One of appreciation, and, Ren thought, affection. “You might need your improve your sword fighting skills a bit first.”

  “I'm working on it,” Ren said, frowning. This arrow wound couldn't have come at a worse time. They needed to prepare for war. They had to kill Halvard and Nathair, and Ren didn't have time to be wounded. Not now.

  “Are you sure you should be sitting up?” Evalyne came towards them along the narrow stream, scraping the toe of her boot in the dirt when she stopped before them. “Your physician might try to sedate you again if he finds you like this.”

  Ren shrugged with his good shoulder, although even that sent a sting of discomfort through his muscles. “Are all patients treated this way, or is it because I'm royalty?”

  “We would be hard-pressed if you went and died from infection,” she said, crouching to their level.

  Ren huffed a laugh. “No you wouldn't. You could do this without me.”

  Evalyne tilted her head, a small line forming between her brows. “You realise you're the last living son of the queen, yes?” She said it carefully, but the words still stung Ren's heart.

  He looked down. “It doesn't mean anything.”

  “Really? Who's going to take the throne?”

  “Princess.” Anik leaned forward, and even though Ren wasn't looking at him, he could picture the hard expression Anik had trained on Evalyne.

  “Commander.” Evalyne nodded to Anik and stood, leaving them alone. Ren was grateful. He couldn't think about Thais this way, or Hellic. Like they were nothing but positions that needed to be filled. He knew he'd have to deal with this eventually, but it didn't have to be right now. Slipping his hand into his pocket, Ren's heart skipped a beat when he didn't find his mother's key. Its absence was something he'd have to get used to.

  Ren was about to pull his hand back when he felt warm fingers against his palm. Anik's hand brushed his own and he slipped his fingers between Ren's. Ren looked across at him, but Anik was staring deliberately away. Ren brushed his thumb against Anik's in his p
ocket, giving his hand a slight squeeze. He wasn't sure what this thing between them was or where it was going, but maybe he didn't need to question it. He hadn't questioned Anik's decisions so far, so maybe he should trust him in this, too, as little as he wanted another part of his heart brutally severed. It felt like there was barely any of it left, except the part Anik had claimed sneakily when Ren wasn't paying attention. Then again, all things considered, maybe that was exactly how Anik felt about him.

  * * *

  They rode out a few hours after sunset, when the last of the field workers had returned home and no more patrols rode south from Iskaal or north from the Lowlands to spot their numbers in the distance and sound the alarm.

  Fatigue dragged at Anik's muscles as he rocked in the saddle, following the movements of his horse. It'd been two days since he'd last slept, and the lack of rest was starting to make itself known. His eyes stung and it was difficult to focus.

  It had taken almost half an hour to convince Ren to give up his position at the front and get some rest in one of the supply wagons. That boy would run himself into the ground any chance he got. It was really an unbelievable skill – not that Anik was one to talk. He knew that. Didn't make it any easier to not care about Ren, though. It had just happened. Typical that he should pick the most self-sacrificing idiot in the entire army to cast his affections on. Anik smiled to himself.

  The new addition to their ranks wasn't without problems. Anik brought Valkon to the front and Valkon filled him in on the group's return to the gorge. Initially, the Lowlanders had balked when they found out they had to share their cause with a thousand Skarlans. They had felt betrayed, had wanted to leave, and Anik, who had been the one to convince them to come along in the first place, hadn't been there to settle them. Even so, Valkon had managed to convince them that travelling with a bunch of Skarlans was better than working for them, and the men had fallen in line. For now.

  Anik would have to talk to them once they made camp again, settle the hierarchy and draw the lines. This was an army, not a group of rebels. The rules were different here; even he knew that. The sooner the newcomers learned it, the better.

  Anik looked over his shoulder to where seven sets of horses pulled the supply wagons. They lost a wagon in the storm, but the recent rainfall had replenished rivers and lakes, so they didn't really need an eighth wagon to carry extra water.

  In one of them, Ren slept. Or, more likely, tried to. It would be a bumpy ride, and Anik knew how uncomfortable it was to be on the move with injuries to tend. Rolling his shoulders, he felt the tug of the scars that had formed from the lashes on his back.

  Ren was the living person most qualified to rule Frayne, yet it was the one thing he didn't want to do. Five weeks ago, that knowledge would have puzzled Anik. He had never heard of a member of the royal family who wasn't interested in power, and Ren had seemed no different from the rest of them. Now, Anik knew differently. Ren might be stubborn and difficult at times, but his humility was exceptional. Maybe it came from growing up a bastard, with the knowledge that you'd never be important. Resigning yourself to it, maybe even finding comfort in it.

  In a way, Anik couldn't blame Ren. Anik had never asked anyone to follow him once the riots began, but people had anyway. He had more lives on his conscience than he liked to think about. The kind of steel-heartedness required to lead an entire country had to be immense. Maybe that was why so many rulers seemed to have no heart at all. Maybe that was the only way to rule, and maybe that was why Ren couldn't accept the crown: because he had too much heart. After getting torn to pieces again and again, you'd have to eventually grow a hard shell, yet Ren didn't seem able. He was open, vulnerable, taking every hit to his core again and again. Anik had no idea how he could do it without growing cynical, but a part of him was glad. There was a softness and an honesty to Ren that Anik hadn't found in anyone in a long time, and he didn't want Ren to lose it, as selfish as it was to want someone to stay soft in a world like this. Even if it caused another part of Anik to worry endlessly about Ren.

  Ren could have died in Iskaal and Anik held part of the blame. He should have watched out for Ren better. Even though, in that moment, he had thought they weren't going to make it, he should have tried. He had tried, but not hard enough. Anik wasn't sure what would happen if Ren died. Would they go on? Killing Halvard no matter the cost had been the one thing on Anik's mind since the day of the fires. Recently, his priorities had shifted, although he didn't recall exactly when. If Ren died, Anik wasn't sure he could stay, but what else was there than revenge? It had been his goal once, to kill the king and die for it. Maybe it would be again.

  “Commander?”

  Anik opened his eyes. He had no idea how long he'd had them closed. Fuck. He couldn't be this distracted. “What is it?” he asked, swallowing to moisten his mouth. He looked at the Fraynean soldier riding beside him and the young man quickly averted his gaze.

  “Valkon reports that all is well in the rear, commander,” the soldier said. Even in the darkness, Anik could see his Adam's apple shift as he swallowed.

  Anik ignored the man's discomfiture. People feeling uneasy in his company was hardly new. “Understood,” he said, turning his attention to the path ahead.

  The treeline in the distance, with its promise of rest, was a greater relief than Anik liked to admit.

  * * *

  Ren hadn't expected to get any rest, but he must have dozed off anyway, because he woke to the feeling of the wagon rolling to a stop.

  Sitting up, he looked around. They were surrounded by vegetation, not quite forest but enough cover to offer some protection. Above them, the position of the moon suggested there were a few hours until dawn.

  “How are you holding up?”

  Evalyne's voice made Ren look around before he spotted her on the back of her pale gelding beside the wagon.

  “Better, now that I've gotten some sleep,” Ren said, leaning against the side of the cart. It wasn't quite true, but there was no need to worry the princess for nothing. “How much ground did we cover?”

  “A good deal. Our scouts to the rear haven't reported any news from Iskaal. Looks like you made it out without raising too much suspicion. We should reach Fort Teekan by the border tomorrow and you'll be back on home soil two days from now.”

  Ren smiled.

  Anik came up behind Evalyne, already off his horse. He leaned against the wagon and lent Ren a hand. Ren let Anik help him down onto the grass.

  “Come on, they're setting up your tent. I'll make you some tea and we can sleep.”

  Anik held out his arm for support and Ren took it, feeling like a fine lady at court being led to the ballroom floor.

  “You can tell me how to make it myself. You've been up longer than I have,” Ren said.

  Anik shook his head. “I think I can handle another five minutes awake, Sir Chivalrous.”

  “Sir? I thought I was the lady,” Ren mumbled.

  Anik looked at him with a raised eyebrow, seeming for a moment to evaluate how much blood Ren had lost. “What?”

  Ren shook his head and smiled. “Nothing.”

  Anik huffed out a laugh. “Please don't make me start to re-evaluate my tastes.” He led Ren to the newly erected tent. A small fire was already burning. Evalyne kept a strict no-fire policy this close to the border, but for the sake of heating Ren's medicine, they had made an exception.

  Ren sat down, then paused and fixed Anik with a searching look as Anik's words sank in. “Wait... Your tastes?”

  Anik knelt by their bags, searching through his own for the cup. The herb was in his pocket – always on his person. He looked over his shoulder at Ren as if he didn't follow. “What of them?”

  Ren rolled his jaw, considering his words. The pleasant tickle in his belly was a welcome distraction from the ache in his shoulder. “I'm to your taste?” he asked slowly.

  Anik made a small sound of understanding. He returned to Ren, although he avoided looking him in the eye, instea
d filling the cup with water and placing it carefully on the flat rock in the fire. “Men are to my taste, that's what I meant,” he said quietly.

  Ren watched him closely. In his efforts to find out more about Anik, he had never considered asking about his affections. A while ago, it had seemed completely off-limits. Before Llyne, Ren hadn't considered that Anik might be interested in anyone. “Not women? Not at all?” he asked, leaning forward.

  “Not at all,” Anik confirmed, picking stalks of wolfsblood out of his little bundle and putting the rest back in his pocket. He looked up. “Is that unusual in Frayne?”

  Ren was about to shrug, but managed to stop himself before he could complete the motion. “Not exactly. I think most people dabble with both, but I know plenty of people who only swing one way. Why, is it unusual in the Lowlands?”

  “I wouldn't say unusual. It's just not preferable. Our numbers are dwindling, so parents would rather see their sons and daughters produce children, I suppose.” Anik turned his attention to the cup, crushing wolfsblood leaves between his fingers and adding them to the water, staining it red. He frowned. “Of course, that was before the famine. No logic in having children you can't afford to feed.”

  Ren hummed softly. Another question burned on Ren's tongue, one he wasn't sure he should ask for risk of damaging his pride. He parted his lips, then closed them again. To his horror, he noticed that Anik was watching him with a smirk.

  “Yes? What do you want to ask?” Anik said, sounding too smug for Ren's liking.

  Ren rolled his eyes, opposed to sinking that low.

  “You want to know if I think you're cute,” Anik continued knowingly, stirring the tea.

  Ren's brow creased, an objection on his tongue. “It-”

  “I don't. You're a brat. Here.” Anik handed him the cup, holding it around the rim with the tips of his fingers. “Drink this. Careful, it's hot.”