by Zaya Feli
“Asshole,” Ren murmured, sliding his sleeve over his hand before accepting it. He couldn't help his smile.
Ren drank his tea. Whatever the properties of wolfsblood, it worked. He hadn't coughed a single time since Anik had begun making him the tea. To think it took so little to no longer be dying. It was hard to accept, and he hated admitting that a part of him had reconciled itself with the idea of approaching death. Another part of him stung with guilt, still, and he forced Thais from his mind because he didn't think he could deal with that on top of the pain in his shoulder.
“You should be fine now,” Anik said, as if reading Ren's thoughts. “But I'll make the rest for you, just in case.”
Ren took a sip, warming his hands around the cup. He shook his head. “My family has suffered from this illness for generations. Since my grandfather's father. I think. It skipped my mother, but I got it. Thais got it. Maybe Hellic would have gotten it, too.” He sighed, a bitter sound. “Maybe all Halvard had to do was wait for us to drop like flies. And to think the cure was right here in our own country.”
“Aren't you glad you got to know me?” Anik said. He was still smiling, but there was something serious in his expression.
Ren looked over his shoulder at the tent flap. “Do you want to stay?” he asked.
Since returning, Anik had slept with the Lowlanders. Maybe asking was a bad idea. They weren’t on their own anymore. They had other people to think about. Ren couldn't help himself, though. He had slept with Anik beside him for weeks before Evalyne had joined them, and changing that now made it feel like something was missing. “It might be a good idea to keep an eye on me. You know, with my injury and all-”
“I thought you were supposed to be good at this,” Anik said.
When Ren looked at him, Anik smirked again.
“Good at what?” Ren asked.
“Flirting,” Anik said, kicking dirt over the flames with the toe of his boot.
Ren made a sound of indignation. “If I was flirting, you would know it. Trust me,” he said with emphasis. “I could have flirted your socks off the day we met if I had wanted to.”
Anik nearly choked on his laugh. “Oh, really? Well then, maybe you should-”
“Commander!” A young Skarlan soldier skidded to a halt before them, almost falling over the embers of their dying fire. She looked flustered, cheeks red.
“What is it?” Anik asked, getting to his feet. His expression was hard, as if all the parts of himself that he had let Ren see only moments before had been instantly locked away.
“Her Highness sent me to get you. The Lowlanders are getting worked up. They don't seem to want to listen, my lord.”
“I'm not a lord,” Anik said, closing his hand around the hilt of his sword as if to make sure it was still there. “Lead the way.” He turned and trained Ren with a glare. “Stay there.”
Ren sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Confrontations between Skarlans and Lowlanders were inevitable – Ren had defused the one before Anik had returned – but they didn't have to happen when Ren was trying to invite Anik to spend the night in his tent.
Ren climbed carefully to his feet. Curiosity pricked the back of his mind, but fatigue and pain outweighed it and he bent stiffly to grab their bags and carry both into the tent. Dropping them by the cot, he hesitated. Should he ask for a second cot? With everything going on with the Lowlanders, maybe it was smarter if Anik stayed with them. That, and Ren didn't want to look ridiculous requesting a second cot that no one would end up sleeping in.
Taking his scabbard off with one hand was awkward. Anik had offered to carry his sword for him. He wouldn't be much use in a fight with a punctured shoulder, after all, but Ren had declined. At some point, having a blade at his hip had started to feel like a comfort, a kind of safety. The Lowlandish blade was slightly more slender than Hellic's sword. It wasn't adorned with gold and silver, but it was well-made and perfectly balanced. It felt good. Still, Ren couldn't help but wonder what had become of his brother's sword. He hated the thought that it might be in the hands of some random soldier. He hoped Berin had held onto it. The older man was the one who had given it to him in the first place. Ren knew Berin was aware of the blade's importance, even if it was mostly just so Ren could feel closer to Hellic.
Kicking off his boots, Ren sat down on the cot and leaned back slowly, wincing when he was forced to use the muscles in his right shoulder.
First his mother, then Callun and Hellic, now Thais. All of them, gone. When he was younger, he used to wonder what had happened to his father – whether he was dead, or in some nobleman's service. His mother had told him his father had been a Fraynean slave she had brought with her on her trip to Skarlan, but of course Ren knew now it had been a lie to make him feel better. To keep him safe.
Killing Halvard would be one step closer to wiping out Ren's bloodline. Except for Evalyne. She seemed strong, like nothing could bring her down, but Ren knew it was only an illusion. Still, she had to survive. He'd like to get to know her, when this was over. Ren might have lost his entire family, but in a way, Evalyne had never been allowed a real family. Ren had only had to deal with Halvard for a few weeks. Growing up with him as a father must have been a nightmare.
Ren couldn't remember closing his eyes, but the pleasant tug of sleep on weary bones felt like the sweetest promise. He hadn't realised how exhausted he was, in both body and soul. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he woke again, but when he opened his eyes, it was still dark in the tent. A soft rustle made him blink against the darkness.
“It's me.” Anik's voice was soft in the silence, his flowing accent soothing. “Go back to sleep.”
Ren watched the outline of Anik's body as he moved to sit on the grass, grabbing a blanket from his bag and spreading it on the ground.
“I didn't get you a cot,” Ren recalled, voice rough from sleep. He reached up to rub his eyes, but was reminded of his injury by a sharp jolt in his shoulder.
“Don't worry about it,” Anik said. “You were right – someone should keep an eye on you.” Using his bag as a makeshift pillow, Anik curled up on his side, facing Ren. “Go back to sleep,” he repeated.
Ren closed his eyes, suddenly no longer tired. He lay still, listening to the sound of Anik's breathing slowing down. It was a comforting sound, bringing Ren a sense of safety more pronounced than having his sword close at hand.
Sitting up as quietly as he could, he tugged one of his blankets off the cot and draped it over Anik.
Normally, Anik wasn't one to sleep through disturbances, but he didn't wake, simply sighed in his sleep and tugged the blanket up under his chin.
Ren smiled. Anik never had adapted well to the cold.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Ren woke, it was to camp chatter, bird song, and a wide ray of sunlight filtering through the half-open tent flap. Mindful of his shoulder this time, he stretched, then frowned. He stroked his hand down his chest, over the fabric of the blanket he had draped over Anik the night before. The spot next to him was empty.
Covering a yawn with the back of his hand, Ren sat up. Before he could locate his discarded boots, the tent flap folded back and Anik's smiling face appeared.
“The wood mouse wakes from hibernation,” Anik declared, crouching in the opening.
Ren rolled his eyes. “More like a bear, I'd say,” he said, flexing his biceps at Anik in what he doubted was a convincing display. Still, he was pleased to see Anik's eyes linger on the curve of his upper arm. “What's got you in such a good mood?”
“What, don't you smell that? Okay, let me help your senses along.” Anik vanished, reappearing a moment later holding a half-cooked steak of impressive proportions.
“Where'd you get that?” Ren asked, a grin spreading across his face. Ren had come to realize that life on the road meant meat was a luxury served dried and salted, rarely fresh. When it had just been the two of them, catching game had been easy, but with an entire army marching across the landsc
ape, animals were long gone.
“A boar wandered into the camp around dawn,” Anik said.
Ren heard the sizzling sound of Anik slapping the boar steak back down on the rocks over the fire.
“Your man Jayce has excellent aim with a spear, I have to say,” Anik called from outside.
“Jayce took it down?” Ren asked, tugging his boots on one-handed. The scent of cooking boar wafted in through the tent opening, making his mouth water.
“In the end, yeah. It was a group effort.”
“I thought Evalyne didn't want fires,” Ren said, giving up on tying his bootlaces. He pushed the flap aside and joined Anik.
“The sun's rising,” Anik said, pointing. “For anyone looking this way from the stretch of land between us and Iskaal, the sun will be right in their eyes. We have about an hour to cook this thing.” He nodded over his shoulder to where a group of soldiers tended a larger fire, a woman with a knife the size of Ren's forearm cutting apart the boar and handing meat off to be cooked. “This hasn't had time to settle, so it's going to be chewy, but it still beats jerky.”
“Wow. How long did I sleep? You guys didn't manage to overthrow the king while I was out, did you?” Ren asked, taking an appreciative sniff.
Anik laughed, kneeling in the grass before Ren. He reached out and tugged on the laces of Ren's boots, doing them up with swift hands. “No such luck.”
“Thanks.”
Anik looked up from Ren's boots, flashing him a toothy smile that Ren was convinced would have melted every heart at court. Ren snorted. Even after weeks together on the road, Anik could still surprise him.
Having an injured shoulder opened Ren's eyes to problems he had never considered. Jayce seemed to handle having only one arm with such ease that it made Ren forget how many things couldn't be done one-handed. He watched with faintly flushed cheeks as Anik cut his slice of the boar steak into bite-sized squares like you would for a child, but Anik didn't seem to mind. Ren wondered if Anik had done things like this for his younger sisters – tied their shoes and cut their food, wiped dirt off their scraped knees and carried them to bed. Once, it would have been hard to imagine, but not anymore.
“Thanks,” Ren said for the second time that morning. He balanced his wooden plate of steak, bread, and greens on his thighs and ate with his fingers. The bread was dry and the steak was chewy, but it still tasted like a meal for kings, cooked with herbs Anik had picked from the forest around them. Ren moaned decadently, earning a quiet chuckle from Anik. When Ren looked at him, lines still creased the corners of his eyes.
“I like you like this,” Ren said before he could stop himself.
“Like what?” Anik asked, tearing his eyes away from his food.
“Happy.” Ren swallowed. He couldn't remember ever seeing Anik in a mood this good.
The revelation seemed to take Anik by surprise. He trained Ren with a strange look and parted his lips, but then closed them again, humming noncommittally. “We got a couple hundred Lowlanders out of Iskaal, you didn't die from an arrow to the chest, and there's boar for breakfast. I'd say those are good reasons to be happy.”
Ren smiled. “Yeah. It's nice that things are starting to go right some of the time.”
They ate in silence for a while, Ren happy to turn his focus to the rest of his steak. Boar might not be his favourite thing for breakfast, but today, he couldn't care less.
“Look,” Anik said slowly. He set his empty plate between his feet and rested his elbows on his knees. “About Thais...”
Ren swallowed hard, a knot forming in his gut. He didn't want to talk about it again. He didn't want to think about the throne and his own role.
When Anik spoke again, it was of something else entirely. “I know what it's like to lose family. It stays with you for a long time. You lost Hellic and you didn't have anyone to talk to. I know how hard that is, trying to find some way to deal with it by yourself. I don't want you to have to do that again.” Anik raised his gaze from his hands to Ren's eyes and his expression was serious.
The breath caught in Ren's throat and he forced himself to exhale. He bought himself some time, placing his plate on the grass before rubbing tense muscles at the back of his neck. “I appreciate that,” he said finally, feeling the knot of tension loosen. “Thanks.”
Anik gave him a nod, turning his attention to putting out the fire.
“How did it go last night?” Ren asked, hoping to ease his thumping heart. His voice was steady.
“Oh, the conflict? It's not exactly solved,” Anik said, making sure that no embers could catch fire again before leaning back. “One man, Laskyn, seems determined to stir up trouble. He needs to be handled, but I was too tired last night.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his brow before standing.
“I thought they wanted to come along,” Ren said. He joined Anik in their tent, kneeling to begin packing their things, but Anik ushered him over to the cot.
“They do, but they don't want to camp with Skarlans. I don't blame them,” Anik said. “But we're supposed to function as a team. We can't have half the camp bickering when the real enemy is shooting arrows at our asses.” He sighed, shaking his head.
“Something else is bothering you, isn't it?” Ren asked.
Anik paused, rolling his jaw before he continued. “I'm worried Evalyne's going to change her mind about them.”
“Evalyne doesn't mind the Lowlanders,” Ren said.
“I know she doesn't, but she minds infighting. It'd be foolish not to. I don't want her to consider sending them away before I've had the chance to settle this mess.”
“I'll talk to her,” Ren said, eagerly seizing the chance to be of use.
“That'd ease my mind,” Anik said, his smile soft. Swinging his bag over his shoulder, he grabbed Ren's bag too and handed him his sword. “Jayce wants to see you before we ride out. Meet me by the horses?”
Ren found Jayce near the edge of the camp by following the sound of pained moans. Ilias was the first person Ren spotted, his long pale hair drawn into a bun to keep it out of his face while he worked. He bent over a man lying on a cot, holding the man's ankle with both hands. Jayce stood on the other side with a slender blade in his hand.
“You need to hold still. It'll only take a moment,” Ilias said in the firm but gentle voice he adopted whenever situations required him to be stern. The boy had come a long way from frightened slave to physician's assistant.
The man moaned again, raising his hand to bite down on his own knuckles.
“Am I interrupting?” Ren asked, leaning to the side to get a peek of what Jayce was doing. The sight of pus and blood made him shiver and he quickly averted his gaze.
“Not at all. I'll be right with you,” Jayce said, never taking his eyes off the man's foot. To Ilias, he said, “Hand me the padding, please.”
“What's going on?” Ren asked over his shoulder, determined to make sure the boar steak stayed in his belly.
“I've been treating more foot sores and blisters in the past week than I have in my entire life,” Jayce said with a light chuckle.
Ren heard the sound of water and dared to turn around.
Jayce rinsed his hand in a bowl and rubbed it against his thigh. “Marching will do that.”
“Sounds like fun,” Ren said, casting a sideways glance at the victim as the man got off the cot, putting his boots back on with care. “Happy you had to give up commanding in favour of foot sores?” he asked, taking a seat on the cot when Jayce gestured.
“Honestly? Yes,” he said, helping Ren peel back his undershirt. “The human body is easy to handle. Find the problem, fix the problem. War isn't that predictable.”
“True enough,” Ren said. “I heard you took down our breakfast.”
Jayce laughed. Ren was pleased to see a flush creep across his face. “A lucky throw.”
“Remember our talk about not giving yourself enough credit? Anik said you were excellent.”
Ilias took a seat next to Ren on the cot,
a bowl of clean water in his hands. “First Anik, now you. You two really should stop getting yourselves hurt. I'm not sure how much more my heart can handle.”
Ren smiled, reaching out to give Ilias' arm a squeeze. “Jayce says I'll be fine. Right?”
Jayce peeled the last length of bandage away and hummed, his hand warm against Ren's shoulder. “No infection. The bleeding has stopped. So far, you're doing fine, yes,” he said with a smile. Taking a clean cloth from his bag, he dipped it in the water from Ilias' bowl and carefully cleaned the skin around the wound.
“You two have been working together. Getting a knack for physician's work?” Ren asked, looking at Ilias to take his mind off the sting.
Ilias nodded, giving Ren one of his wide smiles. “I have a strong stomach and I like helping people and making them feel better. Plus, Jayce said he could use a hand and I'm good with mine,” Ilias said, then flushed bright pink at the self-praise, lowering his head.
“Well, you took good care of Anik, too, so I don't doubt it,” Ren said.
Jayce grabbed a small wooden box, taking the lid off and revealing a greenish paste. Dipping the edge of a cloth in it, he dabbed Ren's wound.
“When do you think I can train with the sword again?” Ren asked.
A line formed between Jayce's brows. “At least a week. Two to be safe,” he said. He handed the fresh roll of bandages to Ilias and let the youth wrap Ren's shoulder.
“I can't wait two weeks,” Ren said, his frown mirroring Jayce's. “We're in the middle of a war. I need to be prepared.”
Jayce gave him a sad smile. “I don't decide, Ren. The body does. And the body takes its time. Trust me, I know. I was in bed for months. The last few weeks were the longest of my life.”
Ren winced. Compared to that, he had little reason to complain.
“Promise me you'll wait at least ten days,” Jayce said, packing knives and boxes into his bag. He trained Ren with a sharp gaze.
“I'll wait,” Ren promised. Better unprepared than dead. Anik might have his back in a fight, but he couldn't stop him dying from carelessness.