by Jessi Gage
“I’m no’ injured,” she protested. “You, on the other hand have fared better.” She motioned for Maedoc to continue.
He did so with a friendly crinkling of his eyes.
She missed the press of Riggs’s hand when Maedoc began bandaging his wrist, but she made herself useful by removing Riggs’s boots. Bruises darkened the skin of his ankles. They looked sore but didn’t require tending, so she reluctantly turned her attention to his torso. She’d been avoiding looking too closely, kenning she’d find evidence of things she never wanted to imagine happening to her lifemate.
Blackened burns from what must have been a fire poker dotted his skin. The edges of his days-old sword wound were red and swollen, as if someone had been prodding at it. Fresh blood trickled from the site, but not enough to truly worry her. It had to have been painful, though. Very painful. “I doona suppose ye have any salve in that pouch?” she asked Maedoc.
He shook his head. “We’ll get him fixed up in good time.”
’Twould have to be enough.
Where Riggs wasn’t burned, he was bruised. He’d been beaten with somat that left bruises of frighteningly uniform definition, a heavy stick or a mace? She refused to scan the wall of torture implements behind her. She didn’t need to ken what had done this to Riggs. If she dwelled on aught, it should be that Riggs lived, and he would heal.
“Och, Riggs, how did you break free? I’ve never seen such a feat of strength.” Not even by Metawuli, the strong man of Gravois’ camp. The glimpse of Riggs roaring and ripping that enormous eyehook from the beam high above would live forever in her memory. She’d wanted to gape like the Larnians, but she’d made herself look away and steal Reddick’s dagger. And good thing, too, since it had taken both her and Riggs to bring down that bloody despicable king.
“Wasn’t me,” he said, removing her hands from his body and pulling her to lie in his arms. His face was battered…again. His eyelids drooped with weariness. But he had a gleam in his eye that proved he was with her, he loved her. “I called on Danu, and she answered.”
“You’re a believer now, aye?”
He grinned. The wad of linen made his cheek round. “Yeah. Batty as the king, I suppose.” He guided her head to his shoulder, and she was content to rest like that with him and trust Magnus’s guards to protect them.
While they waited for word on the battle, she inquired about Maedoc’s fellow guards, the ones she’d heard fighting when Travis had dragged her into the king’s chamber and then the tunnels.
The guard shook his head. Anger clouded his features. “There are twelve of us, yeah? The king’s Crescent Knights. Turns out one of us was a traitor. In bed with Breeding First.”
“Eogan,” spat the guard Maedoc had introduced as Drustan.
“Yeah. Eogan,” Maedoc said darkly. “Because of him, Justus is in hospital. Wounded badly. He’ll live, but it’ll irk him to be out of this fight. It were him and Eogan at your door, lady. Should have been two against two, but Eogan turned to make it three against one.”
“What happened to Eogan?” she asked.
“King Magnus had him imprisoned. He’ll deal justly with him later. And with Ari. Turns out some of the ladies were in on it too. Don’t envy the king’s decision on what to do with them.”
“What of Neil?” Riggs asked.
“You’re his nephew, yeah?”
Riggs nodded against the pillow.
Maedoc leaned in. “You know the pup Travis, yeah? He comes racing into the practice yard, where the king was lining up his men to stand firm against Breeding First, not knowing what they had planned, only that they had something going tonight. ‘They have Lady Anya!’ the pup shouts. ‘They have Lady Anya!’ Well, the king gets down on a knee and asks the pup to start at the beginning. ‘There’s no time,’ the lad says. He’s out of breath and beside himself. Can barely string two words together. That’s when Neil comes striding toward the king. ‘I’m in it, sire,’ Neil says. ‘But don’t want to be anymore. Ari’s about to send your lady through to Saroc.’ While the king sprints to the dungeon, Neil tells him all about how Ari’s been using this stone of his to go back and forth between Saroc and Chroina and using it to cross the veil into a different realm, one where women abound.” He shook his head.
“The king arrives with all his men at his back, and Ari knows he’s outmatched. Magnus signals Faolan—” Here he nodded toward the third guard, who stood with his brawny arms crossed over his chest. “—to hold Ari’s arm down upon one of the fancy tables in that secret room and without warning, the king brings down Faolan’s axe and relieves Ari of his right hand. ‘Care to confess or shall I take the other as well?’ the king asks, cool as a snowcap. Ari confesses, hands over the stone. The king summons his high priest to bless it, then he tries the incantation Ari told him about, only using Danu’s name instead of that god Ari was worshiping. It works. We all come through in time to see the last of that shite-king’s blood run from his body and to help you and the lady.”
So Travis had done as she’d asked and reported what had happened to the king. And Neil had turned himself in. “What’ll happen to Neil?”
Maedoc looked grim. “Don’t know. Maybe he’ll get some sort of deal if he reveals everything he knows. His career in the king’s army is over. That’s for cert.”
Riggs sighed, his face troubled. “He brought it on himself,” he said at last.
She agreed.
It took the rest of the night for Magnus’s men to subdue the Larnians and secure in place leaders who could oversee Larna’s transition from independent country to vassal state. The guards escorted her and Riggs from the dungeon. When they walked past the cell that had held the women, she saw it now held men in tattered trousers and faded blue plaids. Resisting Larnians. Many more cells held Larnians as well.
“Where are the women?” she asked the guards.
“Taken to Chroina. They’re safe.”
She hoped so. She didn’t ken how deep the conspiracy against Magnus had gone, but with both his war chieftain and his second against him, it must have gone very deep indeed. She itched to ask Magnus, but he would have much to deal with at present. From the snippets of conversation she overheard from the guards and soldiers, it seemed he had made the care of the human women his top priority. That pleased her. She would give Marann’s king much grace and trust him to root out the conspirators in his own time so long as those women were out of danger.
The guards brought her and Riggs to a great hall with towering ceilings crisscrossed with more of those heavy beams like the one Riggs had been strung up beneath. The aged wood against the black stone should have made for a pleasing sight, but kenning this keep was the home of such a vile king, she took no pleasure in its beauty. Along one side of the great hall, arched windows let in the pink light of a new dawn. The scent of brine was thick in the air.
The hall bustled with Maranner warriors in red plaids. They moved swiftly but without urgency. Dozens of cots held the wounded, who were being tended by their fellows. A red oval the size of a door glowed on the dais. Several guards surrounded it.
She gulped as the king’s guards led her and Riggs that way. Under her hand, Riggs’s arm stiffened.
“Can we not take horses and ride for Chroina?” Riggs asked.
“Fear not, trapper.” Magnus’s voice brought their heads around. He strode to them from the direction of the wounded men, looking strained but hale. “I had Danu’s high priest bless the stone. It is the goddess’s power that holds it open. She has blessed us with this miracle, but I don’t know how long it will last. So, let’s get you through. I refuse to abuse Danu’s blessing or take it for granted. We use it this day for as long as she allows. Then the high priest will guard the stone in the temple. It will be used again only at Danu’s bidding.”
A wise plan. When Magnus offered her his arm, she took it, but without letting go of Riggs. She stepped up onto the dais that way, between the man she belonged to in heart and the one who had
made her his with a contract.
Red light from the oval shaded the dark blond of Magnus’s hair. He smiled ruefully at them. He changed his grip to hold her hand between both of his. “I will publicly apologize to you both, but ceremonies will have to wait until Larna is stabilized. For now, I offer you, Lady Anya, and you, Riggs the trapper, son of Hilda, my sincere apology. In my misplaced jealousy, I have caused you both much pain. As soon as I am able, I will have the pact between us dissolved.”
No more pact? She and Riggs could be as they were? Pledgemates. Lifemates. Free to love each other as they wished. ’Twas too good to be true. She’d believe it when she saw it done.
“I accept your apology, Your Majesty,” Riggs said, extending his arm.
Magnus clasped it.
She eyed Magnus. “I’m no’ as quick to forgive as my lifemate. I must think on it.”
“Of course, Lady Anya. In the meantime, you have my word that none of the terms of the pact will be binding.” He surprised her with a wink and gestured toward the light. Maedoc, Drustan, and Faolan herded them closer to the magic portal while Magnus issued instructions. “Have Daly settle them in the apartment in the North Tower. Make sure Travis has rested. Then send him to tend Lady Anya. Once the physicians have finished with the women, bring one to tend to Riggs.” With a final nod in their direction, he strode away.
Passing through the oval was like stepping into a weighty nothingness. Her heel met the flagstones of what turned out to be Glendall’s great hall even as the toes of her other foot touched the slate floor of Blackstone’s great hall. In between were leagues of distance that pulled at her like a heavy stone. She hurried through with Riggs’s arm firm around her, where it remained all the way to the North Tower. He limped, but not as badly as she did, and never did he lay any weight on her. His touch was one of comfort alone. Och, they made a fine pair, both lame and bedraggled. At least Riggs’s ankles would heal and he’d be hale again soon. Her wolf-man had more than earned a chance to rest.
“Will you be able to eat with that tooth?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “I’ll take broth today and try some bread tonight, if I can get some.”
“I’ll have some sent up,” Maedoc said. “And whatever the lady wants as well.”
Riggs clapped the guard on the shoulder then lifted Anya into his arms to carry her up a curving staircase. The North Tower. The apartment they entered on the third landing was much grander than she’d expected. With its upholstered couch, curtained four-poster bed and enameled armoire, it reminded her of the bedchamber adjoining Magnus’s apartment. Rather than smelling of orange blossoms, it smelled of vanilla and fresh herbs. A tray of potted plants in the wash of sunlight coming through the window explained the herbal scents. She spotted an aloe plant and grinned. She’d heard all about the prickly “miracle plant” rumored to grow in India and southern climes, but had never been fortunate enough to find any extract from it for sale. Leave it to a king to have an entire plant sitting on a windowsill in his castle. Her fingers itched to break open those long, waxy leaves and make a poultice from its oils for Riggs’s wounds.
“Some of the ladies would like to stay near the king when contracted to him,” Maedoc explained. “Others, like your mother,” he said to Riggs, “preferred privacy when the king didn’t require their presence. He kept this room for them.”
A muscle ticked in Riggs’s jaw. He winced and said, “Damn tooth.”
Och, it hadn’t occurred to her Magnus might have tupped Riggs’s mother, but it made sense. Riggs had told her Magnus had bedded every woman of breeding age trying to get an heir. His mother was no longer of breeding age, but she would have been in the earlier days of Magnus’s rule. Did Riggs long to see his mother now that he was in Chroina? Would he want Anya to meet her? Och, concerns best left for another time.
Maedoc left, and Riggs barred the door. They were alone.
He hauled her into his arms with a silent sob. For a long time they just clung to each other and breathed. Tears slipped from her eyes. She let them dampen Riggs’s chest.
“I suppose that torn up shirt of yours is lost forever,” she said with a shaky laugh.
“Good riddance,” he said, and he rubbed his cheek over her head. Gently, so gently, he touched his lips to hers. “I want to mate you, but to do it justice, I should rest first.”
“Aye, love.” She could use a long sleep herself. “And a bath wouldna be amiss.” Her silken robe was ruined, stained with blood and torn from her struggles. The stench from that horrible cell clung to her. “For both of us.”
Until Travis could come to them, they’d have to make do with the pitcher and ewer on the chest. Riggs consented to let her wash him first. She took her time, scrubbing the places where he wasn’t wounded, dabbing delicately at his burns and other wounds. While the fire dried his rich coat of manly hair, he slipped her robe from her shoulders and washed her slowly. They were both hungry and exhausted, but they ended up on the bed in each other’s arms nevertheless.
Riggs entered her slowly, took her with a quiet, determined passion. When they shared that special finish she’d missed since their private moments on the hilly plain, it quenched her body and soul.
“My lady,” he whispered, and he fell asleep, still inside her.
* * * *
Riggs woke to a dim chamber, the sounds of a flickering fire, and the hearty scents of broth, seasoned bread and the unique mating scent he shared with Anya. Pain licked him from head to toe, but his mouth lifted in a smile. They were safe. Bantus was dead. Magnus was bringing his foes under control. Anya was his. All his. And he was hers. Forever.
He opened his eyes to spy her through the parted bed curtains. She stood at the partially opened door, whispering with a bright-eyed young pup. Propping up on his elbows, he caught the pup’s eye.
“Travis?” he said, remembering Magnus saying he’d send Marann’s youngest citizen to tend Anya. His king honored them greatly by doing so.
The pup grinned. “You’re the one who rescued Lady Anya.”
Anya laughed, a throaty sound that brought a certain non-injured body part awake beneath the bedcovers. “Aye, lad. The verra one. Riggs the trapper, the champion of Anya.” Meeting his gaze with her twinkling one, she said, “How many times have you rescued me, now, love? Four, I think.”
Facing Travis again, she ticked off her fingers. “Let’s see. There were the Larnians near the border, nasty blights those, the wolves that nearly tore us limb from limb, the four trackers at the cave—and that’s no’ counting the six villagers who tried to waylay him, and now he’s rescued me from the heart of the enemy’s lair. Yanked a great eyehook straight out of a mighty beam. You should have seen it. The eyehook was big as a wagon spoke and made of iron. The beam splintered and rained down shards of wood on him, and then he used the chain as a whip and wrapped it around Bantus’s neck.”
He huffed with amusement and laced his hands behind his head, watching increasing states of wonder pass over the pup’s round face. How beautiful the child was. How compact and expressive.
“Are you going to tell stories all evening or share some of that food with me?” he asked Anya. The chest was spread with a linen cloth and covered with trays of bread and cubed meat, some cooked as Anya liked and some fresh for him. He wouldn’t be able to eat it. Not yet. He didn’t trust his loose tooth with more than broth. Tomorrow he’d try bread.
“You really did all that?” Travis asked.
“He did,” Anya answered. “And I’ll tell you all about our adventures in due time, but first, my lifemate needs a good soak. Have you a hipbath you can bring for him?”
“Yes, lady.” He loped away, and Anya closed the door after him.
“You have a talent for speaking with children,” he told her. Personally, he found Travis intimidating. Oddly, he craved the pup’s attention but feared it at the same time. He’d have to adapt to having the pup around since he was Anya’s servant now. She seemed at complete ease w
ith it all.
Glowing with contentment, she limped to him with a cup of broth and a goblet full of wine. “Wee anes are wee anes. Human, wolfkind, they all love a hero’s tale. He’ll be spreading it about Glendall without a doubt. By morning, the servants will all ken what a brave man I have for a lifemate.”
Her words made his chest fill with pride. He sat up and took the broth in both hands, letting her set the wine on the table beside the bed. He’d never slept in a bed so large. The straw mattress was softened by down ticking and was long enough for him with a hand to spare. The bed was broad enough to sleep five men shoulder to shoulder. Velvet curtains, when drawn, would block out the light and keep in the warmth he and Anya created. Immaculate skins of long-haired goat draped the foot of the bed.
Anya deserved luxury like this, but he wouldn’t be able to afford it on a soldier’s salary. Definitely not on a trapper’s income. Ah well. He’d provide for her as well as he could. She was his. His. Completely. Irrevocably.
She nestled against his side with a trencher of bread, meat and cheese and nibbled happily. “How’s your tooth?”
“Hurts,” he admitted, sipping the hot, salty liquid carefully. “Your sister?”
Her smile fell. “Travis tells me she willna eat. I’d like to go to her, but I didna wish to leave you while you slept.”
He was grateful for it. He would have worried if he’d woken to find her gone. “We can go together after we eat.”
She brightened. “Aye. I’d like that.” She slipped her gemstone from the pocket in her robe. “Riggs, I’d like to give this to Magnus. Those women, they canna understand what’s happening to them. Travis tells me they’re frightened. Some fight the physicians rather than let them do their work. It doesna help that all who tend to them are men. They doona understand how this world is. Or why they’re here. Only that they’ve been abused by a terrible man. Magnus has tried to speak to them, but he frightens them as well. If he had this, mayhap they’d listen. Mayhap ’twould help them. Could you bear to go back to how ’twas after the plain? When we could hardly understand one another?”