“Always have a source of fire at hand when wandering the wilds at night. It will do more for you than a blade,” he explained.
Bedelia nodded as she slowly relearned how to breathe. She tried to keep her thoughts out of her expression, especially the guilt. Did he know she’d only gone outside to stalk him? She would have killed him had she been given the chance . . . and he’d saved her. Perhaps she did deserve to be eaten by wolves.
He stared at her, and she had the feeling he was somehow reading every single thought in her mind.
“I-” she began, then cut herself off, unsure of how she could ever explain.
“Go back to sleep,” he ordered. “I’ll watch the door.”
Bedelia looked down at her feet and nodded, then shuffled away. Halfway down the hall she turned to find Iseult still watching her. “Thank you,” she muttered.
He did not reply. He was clearly suspicious of her now, or perhaps he had been from the start. She would have to step much more carefully from this point on. She didn’t look back again until she had reached her bedroll. She curiously noted that two other bedrolls seemed empty, but did not take time to investigate who was missing. Instead, she noted that Finn was still peacefully sleeping, then quickly climbed back into her bedding. Still half-sitting, she gazed at the illumination of Iseult’s torch at the end of the hall. A moment later, the light went out, leaving her in darkness.
She was beginning to realize that darkness was a place where Iseult was far more comfortable than she. Sure, she’d tasted darkness at Keiren’s side, but it was not where she would choose to live.
Perhaps once, but not now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I seult watched the lumps that were his companions bundled up in their bedrolls, secretly hoping the lump that was Finn would wake first. He hadn’t missed the two empty bedrolls at the other end of the room. They’d belonged to Tavish and Rae. Either they’d gone out while he was escorting Bedelia back to safety, or they’d somehow snuck by him while he was in the hall, which he doubted.
He’d slept little during the night, and what rest he did allow was spent leaning against the wall near the door. He’d never needed much rest. He’d always thought perhaps it was due to his curse, but Maarav seemed to sleep just fine. Or perhaps he simply pretended in order to feign ignorance about his missing men.
His gaze moved to the lump that was Bedelia, near Finn. What had she been doing wandering out in the snow? Had she entered into a plot to distract him from the other men? If she’d only needed to relieve herself, she could have stayed much closer to the door. He’d been watching her since she walked out, noting the way she moved, how she favored her right leg, and had seen the wolves stalking her. He’d almost debated stepping in.
He knew it was too great a coincidence that they would happen upon her on the Sand Road after she and Finn were separated in Migris. His suspicion was only increased by the fact that she knew Maarav, and that he had been the one to deliver the potion to cure her ailment after Finn was kidnapped by Anna. Was she somehow affiliated with the secret city, or did she simply know Maarav as in innkeeper in Migris?
One of the lumps stirred, drawing his attention. A clump of fluffy blonde hair came into view. Only Ealasaid.
He shook his head. What an odd group they had gathered. He at least trusted Ealasaid, and her magic was useful.
Next rose Finn, then Kai. Slowly the others awoke and sat up. Last was Bedelia, likely tired from her late night exploits.
“Has the snow stopped?” Finn asked of the room in general as they all struggled out of their bedrolls.
“Yes,” Iseult replied, stepping toward her to offer her a hand up.
She took it, smiling up at him, melting his icy heart . . . just a bit.
“Though riding will be treacherous for a time,” he continued. “The snow will disguise the lower areas and holes in the ground, so we’ll need to be cautious of where we ride. We’ll make for Badenmar, and hope it has not been . . . affected.”
Iseult watched as Finn glanced across the fire at Kai, meeting his gaze. The three of them remembered well what happened the last time they were in Badenmar. That was the night Kai and Anna had first kidnapped Finn. No such thing would happen this time.
Ealasaid and Bedelia left the group, heading toward where the horses were tethered. A few minutes later they returned with hard bread and dried fruits, passing them out to everyone in the group. Bedelia did not meet Iseult’s eyes when she handed him his portion.
Anna peered at the two empty bedrolls, confused.
“I did not see them depart,” he explained, stepping up beside her, “but I doubt it was long after everyone went to sleep. I do not believe they will return.”
Maarav stepped up on his other side. “Those blighted, worthless midges,” Maarav hissed, staring at the space his men should have occupied. “They could have at least challenged me, rather than running away in the night like cowards.”
Iseult simply looked at him, attempting to divine whether or not he was just playing at being surprised, then turned away. It did not matter if he acted. Iseult was watching him regardless. Perhaps they’d go outside and find the men eaten by wolves, and the riddle would be solved.
After everyone had eaten their small meals and attended to their morning duties, they prepared the horses and set out. Finn had attempted to climb onto Bedelia’s horse, but Iseult stopped her, requesting that she ride with him instead. Kai commented on the human and wolf prints near the door, though neither Iseult nor Bedelia offered to explain.
The castle grew small behind them as they rode across the frozen landscape, glittering fiercely in the early morning sun.
“It’s beautiful,” Finn muttered softly near his ear. Her arms were wrapped loosely around his waist, keeping herself steady as his horse trudged through the deep snow.
While he’d requested she ride with him in part to keep her away from Bedelia, he also trusted his horse more than the others to not lose its footing in the snow. Her added warmth at his back was merely a bonus.
“Do you have any memories of the snow?” he asked, knowing that she returned to the human world after the snows had passed for the season.
She sighed. “I remember the snow when I was a tree, but not before. Though, sometimes I see it in my dreams. I see it just like this,” she removed one arm from his waist to gesture at the glittering landscape, then quickly resumed her hold as their mount lurched forward into a hidden dip.
“What do you think it means?” he asked gently. While he didn’t necessarily mind the crisp air biting into his skin, they should have been feeling comforting rays of warmth, given the season. He’d seen Faie magic before, but he was not sure even the Faie were capable of covering the land in ice.
“I wish I knew,” she replied. “I wish I knew a lot of things. If only I could speak once more with my-” she cut herself off, as if only then realizing she’d been speaking her thoughts out loud.
“Your mother,” he finished for her. She’d told him about her encounter with her mother. She wasn’t sure if it had been a dream, or some alternate reality, but her mother had warned her of great danger, and had advised her to stay near Iseult’s side. Her mother had also implied she had been hiding Finn from their tribe, the Cavari.
Finn was silent for several seconds before replying, “Yes. I just wish she could explain things to me. I wish anyone could. For some reason, this snow makes me feel like a child again, but I do not understand why. I don’t even remember anything about being a child. I just . . . I feel like it means . . . something.”
“It will come to you in time,” he offered, hoping to comfort her.
“Will it?” she questioned, sounding almost hostile. “It feels like it’s been ages since I was a tree, and yet I’m still in the same place I was before. Searching for answers that seem to get farther away the more I look.”
He could understand her discouragement, but he also suspected she didn’t truly want the answers she sough
t. He suspected her missing memories were her own doing, a way to deal with the pain of losing her child in her previous life. She would never be able to unlock them if she could not accept that loss.
“I apologize,” she said in reply to his silence. “I should not complain. At least I now know who I am, though my people are strangers to me.”
He placed a hand on her arm and gave it a squeeze. Though he was unused to displaying any sort of affection, he felt she needed it. “Knowing who you are is the most important part.”
“Yes, you’ve taught me that,” she replied playfully. “And after that, I suppose it’s knowing who your friends are?”
He chuckled, another rare event. “Yes, you have taught me that.”
They rode on in companionable silence after that, while their party members occasionally complained about the snow. There were no complaints on Iseult’s mind though, for the snow suddenly seemed a little less cold, or perhaps it was just the effect of the warm presence at his back.
OF ALL THE things they could have encountered, snow was the last thing Maarav would have guessed. The second to last, were the black shapes he occasionally noticed watching them from the trees. He knew Iseult had noticed them too, judging by the way he gripped the pommel of his sword, and the way his eyes darted about. He also knew it was no coincidence that Tavish and Rae had disappeared the night before.
He sighed, refocusing his attention on their present predicament. They’d ridden out of the denser snow to find a small path with only a light dusting. Hopefully soon they would ride out of the snow altogether, and things could go back to normal . . . at least, as normal as they could be in a land plagued by the Faie. Perhaps the stealthy black shapes were only observing them, and upon seeing him, would leave them alone.
He sighed as several black clad figures stepped onto the path ahead of them. Things wouldn’t be going back to normal after all.
He drew his horse to a halt, recognizing those who stood before them, though they wore black cowls over their heads, with additional fabric covering the lower parts of their faces. One in particular he would know anywhere.
“I’m surprised to see you this far south, Slàine,” he called out as his companions stopped their horses a few paces behind him.
“I have a job to do,” called back the woman who’d raised him like he was her own son.
Iseult trotted his horse up to Maarav’s side, cool rage in his expression. It was clear he thought he’d been betrayed. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded of Maarav.
Maarav paused to analyze the situation. Finn did not look at him, but instead glanced around from her seat behind Iseult. Several more black clad shapes had closed in around them, and he knew there were likely more still hidden in the snowy trees. He thought he noticed the shapes of Tavish and Rae. It was difficult to tell with the hoods, but a strand of bright red hair stuck out near the eyes of one of the men. He’d had nothing to do with this, but Iseult knew Slàine, and would likely deduce the black clad figures were Maarav’s people. In this, Iseult would never believe him innocent.
“I honestly do not know,” Maarav replied in vain. He was unsure what job would draw Slàine this far south. Usually she and the others worked only as assassins, but if that was their aim, they would already be dead.
Slàine glanced at the men and women to either side of her. “Take the girl,” she demanded. “The one riding with the man.”
Ah, thought Maarav, now it all made sense. This must have something to do with Finn’s bounty. “She must be worth a great deal of coin to catch your interest,” Maarav replied, hoping to halt the assassins’ progress.
“She is worth more than coin,” Slàine explained. “I have an old debt to settle. A very old debt.”
“Call them off,” Iseult interrupted, “unless you care to sustain great casualties.”
Slàine laughed, then gestured for her people to attack. There was a moment of utter stillness, then they swarmed forward as one, focusing on Iseult and Finn. As fluid as water, Iseult jumped down from his horse and met the nearest attacker with his blade, skewering the young man. Another black clad man leapt toward him, and fell just the same.
Seconds later, the rest of their party joined the fight, surprising Maarav as he stepped back out of the way. Sure, he’d expected Iseult and Kai to fight for Finn, but not the others. An arrow struck a woman who’d taken hold of Finn’s leg, and Maarav followed its path to see Bedelia, still mounted on her horse with her bow raised. Anna and Kai fought back to back with smaller blades, no less deadly than Iseult’s. Even Sativola swung a small ax, warding away those trying to reach Finn. None of the assassins attacked Maarav, likely believing he was on their side. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure which side he was on, though at the moment, the assassins, many of whom he’d grown up with, were interfering with his plans. Across the chaos, he spotted the black clad figure with the tuft of red hair showing. Meeting each other's eyes, they both shrugged and joined the fight.
Maarav unsheathed his sword and blocked the path of an assassin heading toward Iseult. He didn’t recognize the eyes above the black fabric, but it was clear whomever it was recognized him. The man hesitated, then lifted his blade. Their weapons rang out as they clashed, and Maarav began to fight against his own people with all his might. His loyalties lay with himself, just as they always had, and he wanted to see this adventure through. He slashed the man he fought across the chest, watching him topple to the ground. Slàine leapt in front of him. He met her blade for blade. Her eyes widened in shock for a split second, then she attacked with a ferocious growl. He sensed someone at his back, then his hair stood on end as lightning struck directly behind him. Ealasaid. A man cried out in pain, distracted from sticking a blade in Maarav’s back.
“Thank you!” he called before dodging another one of Slaine’s attacks. He turned just in time to witness Kai sustaining a wound to his side, though he could not look long enough to tell if it was fatal. He heard Finn scream at the sight, then more assassins swarmed in from the surrounding woods. He moved to parry another of Slàine’s attacks.
“You do not understand!” she growled, evading his next attack.
“Then explain yourself!” he panted.
Even with his and Iseult’s sword skills, and Ealasaid’s lightning, Maarav knew they would soon be overwhelmed. Perhaps he’d chosen the wrong side of the battle after all. At least he’d die with a sword in his hand—an arrow struck another of the assassins charging him—and friends at his side.
Slàine glanced at the man felled by the arrow, then struck again.
“Stop!” Finn cried out, still atop Iseult’s dancing steed.
Maarav wasn’t sure if she was ordering someone specifically, or just shouting in vain at everyone. Either way, her pleas were ignored, and his attention was once again drawn away as Slàine landed a slice across his bicep. He’d never hoped to fight the one who had taught him everything he knew. She seemed able to predict his movements with ease.
“Stop!” Finn called again. This time, the ground rumbled beneath Maarav’s feet.
The fighting ceased for a split second. Everyone glanced around for the source of the rumble, but the earth had stilled. Nearly as one, they resumed motion.
“Just stop fighting,” Slàine hissed, crouching back into a defensive stance.
“Stop this now!” Finn echoed, her screams competing with the sound of clashing of blades.
The earth began to rumble again, but this time did not quiet. The ground erupted where they stood, sending many of the assassins flying. Maarav and Slàine both dove aside as the soil beneath them exploded, but they were not fast enough.
Their bodies were flung aside in different directions. Maarav lost sight of both Finn on her horse and Slàine as he landed with a thud. Massive roots, dripping soil and flinging snow, coiled toward the cloud obscured sun above him. Regaining his senses, he pushed himself away from the quaking earth toward the still tree line, watching the roots in awe as he stumb
led to his feet. They struck like vipers, coiling around the suddenly frightened assassins, ensnaring their limbs before hauling them upward. Slàine grunted frantically as she fought against the root that sought to imprison her, but her blades were no match for the thick appendage. Soon, Slàine and her assassins were all held immobile, their feet dangling off the ground.
Maarav had a moment to feel relief, then another root darted up, quick as a speeding arrow, and ensnared him like the others. Suddenly dangling in the air from a root around his torso and arms, he craned his neck to see Finn still atop her prancing mount, red-faced and looking close to tears.
Iseult and the others slowly climbed to their feet on the turned earth, avoiding the vines dangling black forms all around them. Kai clutched at the wound in his side, and would have fallen had Anna not darted in to hold him steady.
Sativola muttered curses under his breath, glancing between Finn and the silent, dangling assassins. His left leg slowly saturated itself with blood from a gash on his thigh. He also seemed to have an injured hand. His wide-eyes finally settled solely on Finn, seeming to have deduced the roots were her doing, though it was clear he’d never seen such a scene before. Ealasaid wore a similar expression, her gaze lingering on Tavish and Rae, somewhat distinguishable through their hoods, caught up in the roots side by side. Maarav wished he had noted which side they had fought for, though he knew they’d likely turned on him.
He twisted against the roots to watch as Finn finally broke down and started weeping, though he was unsure why she was upset. She’d just bested an entire swarm of assassins. She should be beaming with pride. The captured awaited her next move with bated breath, likely terrified to even speak, lest she order the vines to crush the life from them.
Bedelia, who’d managed to keep her mount like Finn, trotted her horse toward the remaining startled horses hiding in the nearby trees. She obviously wanted no part of the dealings soon to come.
Maarav wished he could join her.
The Blood Forest (The Tree of Ages Series Book 3) Page 10