Endure

by Sara B. Larson

  I was smiling and crying all at once as I stretched up to press my lips to his again.

  “All right, you win. You can say it as much as you like. I should have known better than to argue with the sorcerer King of Antion.”

  He laughed once, a tiny burst of happiness, against my mouth.

  “Your Majesty, I apologize for interrupting….”

  We broke apart and turned to see Mateo standing a little way off, holding his horse’s reins in one hand and a plate in the other.

  “I thought Alexa might be hungry after her ordeal getting here. I brought her some food.”

  My eyes dropped to the plate with sudden interest, to see what looked like some sort of meat and fruit along with a roll. The adrenaline of being reunited with Damian began to drain away as the exhaustion and hunger that had held me in its grasp for so long surged back up.

  “Thank you, Mateo.” Damian kept an arm around my waist, pulling me with him when he stepped forward to take the plate. “Will you please take Alexa’s horse and see that she is fed and rubbed down as well?”

  Mateo nodded, handing off the plate, then guiding his horse toward Nia and reaching out to grab her reins. Her flanks were flecked with white, and her nostrils still flared when she breathed, from galloping toward Damian after a full day and half a night’s travel without much of a break.

  “Her name is Nia,” I said, gazing fondly at the mare I now considered mine. She and I had been through a lot together. As Mateo led her away, I turned back to Damian. “I didn’t know Mateo knew how to ride.”

  “He didn’t. We’ve all had to learn a lot to survive the last little while,” Damian replied, guiding me toward his tent. It was no bigger than any of the others, and there were no extra embellishments to denote that it was the tent of the king of Antion. But when he pulled the flap open for me, the sight of the thick blankets and furs that made up his bed on the ground was almost enough to start me crying yet again. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept in any semblance of comfort.

  “You must be freezing,” he observed as I stood there, staring at his bed. “Here, sit down and start eating.”

  I did as he suggested and sat on the edge of the blankets, taking the plate from him and lifting a piece of the meat to my mouth. Damian knelt down beside me and wrapped one of the furs around my shoulders.

  I tried to eat quickly, watching him the whole while, as if the very act of staring at Damian would make it seem more plausible that I was sitting in a tent next to him. I noticed his eyes drop to my hands, and he exhaled softly.

  “You found it.” Damian reached out and hesitantly ran the tips of his fingers over my knuckles and the ring I wore — his mother’s ring.

  That tiny touch sent an explosion of sensation rushing up my arm and straight into my lungs, where my breath caught. His eyes lifted to mine again as his fingertips slid up my arm, gently pulling me toward him, the almost-empty plate forgotten.

  “So does this mean you still want to be my queen?” he asked, his eyes on my lips as he rose to his knees and crawled closer to me, sliding his hand over the top of my shoulder to the back of my neck.

  “No,” I replied, and he drew back, his eyebrows lifting. “I’ve never wanted to be a queen. But I do want to be your wife. And I suppose being the queen is an unavoidable consequence of that desire.”

  Damian laughed, shaking his head as I rose to my knees as well, so that we were only a foot apart. His thumb stroked up and down the tendon behind my ear. When our eyes met again, his smile died.

  “I can’t believe you’re truly here,” he whispered, closing the gap so that our bodies nearly touched. He wound his other arm around my waist and drew me in so close to him that I had to pull my head back and lift my chin to look up at him.

  I reached up to cup his face in both of my hands, pulling him toward me, until his mouth brushed mine. He paused, as if savoring the moment of anticipation, his breath warming my still-cold lips. I let my eyes close and wrapped my arms around his neck, my heart flying beneath my ribs.

  “This isn’t a dream, is it?” he asked softly.

  I shook my head, my eyes still closed. “If it is, you need to pick a better location for your next dream.”

  He laughed again, a soft, low sound that delved straight through me, deep into my belly. Then suddenly, he was kissing me, any teasing forgotten in the face of an all-consuming need that swooped up and threatened to pull us both under. He clutched at me, pressing his body into mine, and I pushed back just as hard, clinging to him as his lips moved on mine. The hand he still had on my back tightened around my tunic, lifting it so that his fingertips brushed my bare skin. The combination of the cold air and his heated touch sent a delicious shiver down my spine, and I had the sudden, wanton desire to pull his shirt off, to feel his skin against mine.

  Almost as if he could sense my need, he bent forward, pressing me down toward the ground, until I was laying on the bed of furs, with him beside me, his kiss growing even more heated, one hand teasing my hips, my spine, the lower edge of my rib cage, while the other cushioned my head.

  Our legs tangled together as I reached beneath his shirt to explore the muscles of his back with my fingertips. His mouth left mine so that he could bend his head and kiss my neck, working his way toward the groove behind my collarbone. I was gasping for air when I arched my head back to give him easier access. My eyes opened to see the fabric ceiling above us, and the reality that we were in a tent, in the middle of a massive camp, suddenly hit me like a cold rain that stole the heat of a fire, dousing its flames.

  “Stop,” I managed to say, my voice hoarse.

  Damian immediately stilled, lifting his head to look at me inquisitively. But before I could explain my thoughts, he said, “You’re right,” and pulled my tunic back into place. He reached up to brush some hair off my cheek, before lifting himself up onto one elbow so he could look down at me. “I apologize for getting so carried away.”

  “No apology necessary.” I was sure my cheeks were bright red — both from the cold and from what he’d just done to me. My lips throbbed, and I was already chilled without his body pressed to mine. He must have noticed my shiver, because he immediately got to his knees and bent down to grab some of the blankets and pull them over my body, tucking them around my shoulders. I noted that he didn’t cover himself with the blankets, though.

  When he noticed my questioning frown, he smiled ruefully. “I don’t want anyone to ever question your honor or purity. I will go sleep with some of the other members of the guard. It’s a cold night; they won’t mind the extra body heat, I’m sure.”

  “I … I don’t …” I trailed off, uncomfortable and embarrassed, especially after he had just been so kind as to think about my honor and purity. I, who had been living with men for the majority of the last few years.

  “What is it?” he prompted, still kneeling beside me, his vibrant blue eyes still slightly darkened with need and his breathing ragged, which made me think that he might not have been quite as cool and collected as he seemed.

  “I don’t want to be alone,” I finally admitted.

  His gaze softened, and he reached down to brush his fingers across my jaw, sending another shiver of want through me. “How about if I lie with you until you fall asleep, and then I’ll go.”

  “But you need to sleep, too,” I protested.

  “Not tonight, I don’t.” He lifted the blankets and stretched out beside me. I turned my back to him, so he could wrap his arm around my waist and pull me in tight to his chest, curling his body around mine.

  We were silent for a moment, so that all I could hear was the thud of my heart echoing through my head, pulsing in my ears. Perhaps this hadn’t been the plan most conducive to helping me sleep, I realized. Despite the exhaustion that weighed me down, all I wanted to do was roll over and kiss him again and, this time, never stop.

  “Why did you come here?” I asked to distract myself. “What did King Osgand’s letter say? I though
t Blevon declared war on us.”

  Damian’s arm tightened around me, and he sighed against my hair. “General Tinso’s missive did, yes. But I’d already sent someone to King Osgand to ascertain his thoughts on the situations we’d heard about before that — the attacks on the villages, supposedly made by the Blevonese army combined with black sorcerers. I received the letter back from him a couple of weeks after you left, shortly after my scouts had returned to tell me that they couldn’t find General Tinso, that his castle was abandoned and the town outside of it ransacked and pillaged, confirming my fears that something else was going on, beyond what we knew.

  “King Osgand first wrote to tell me that he feared Dansii was bringing great evil through the jungles of Antion to Blevon, and that he had reason to believe my uncle was preparing to attack us very soon. He told me what I already knew through you — that no black sorcerers would ever have come from Blevon, which meant that Dansii was behind the attacks, disguised as Blevonese soldiers, probably just wearing their uniforms, or forcing the Blevonese soldiers to act on their orders on pain of death.”

  I wove my fingers through Damian’s, squeezing tightly as he spoke.

  “The letter you saw, beneath the one I left you, was the second missive he sent me. I had responded and told him of the declaration of war from General Tinso and what Rylan told me when he returned — that Armando was amassing his entire army to march through Antion and destroy us before moving on to Blevon. He recommended exactly what you had — that I send notices to my people to evacuate to Blevon, and to bring my armies and those who wished to fight to his castle and there make our stand against Dansii together. I’d already done as you suggested and had as many of my people who were willing come to Tubatse, where I could more easily protect them. It took a few days, but I eventually convinced them that Blevon was not our enemy, and that we needed to do as King Osgand asked. Our only hope of surviving this is to join our forces together.”

  “These tents …”

  “Are for the many soldiers from both Antion and Blevon. Those who didn’t wish to fight have fled to the farthest reaches of Blevon, into the mountains or to the southwest, far from the castle and Sì Miào Chán Wù.”

  The temple that Armando wanted to take possession of — where he believed he would be able to claim the ultimate power for himself and his people by drinking from the golden waters.

  “We will stop him,” I said, though a pulse of fear beat low in my belly.

  Damian squeezed me tightly. “Yes, we will.”

  I wondered if he, too, was ignoring the worry that we were both wrong.

  The sound of shouting outside jerked me awake the next day. After our discussion of King Osgand’s letter, we’d both fallen silent, and eventually I’d relaxed into the warmth and strength of Damian’s arms and drifted off to sleep. But when I lurched up, gazing wildly around the tent, I realized he’d stayed true to his word and left during the night.

  I was alone.

  The air was still bitterly cold, even though it was daylight outside. The tent was lit by a muted glow that could only have been from the sun. I quickly stood up and ran out of the tent to see hundreds of men and even some women rushing back and forth. I recognized a few of the Antionese soldiers, but none by name. A strange panic seized me, clutching at my lungs until I could barely breathe. I spun in the direction Nia and I had come from last night, positive I was going to see Armando’s armies on the summit we’d traversed. But the rocky incline was empty, save for some scraggly trees — and a fine coating of snow, painting the entire scene white.

  Where I stood in the valley, the ground was frozen hard, but there was no snow. Yet. I turned back toward the camp, searching for anyone I knew, when I heard a voice from behind me that I’d been positive I’d never hear again.

  “Alex!”

  I spun to see Rylan running toward me, pulling Nia behind him.

  “Rylan!” I met him halfway, letting him scoop me up with one arm — his uninjured one — pulling me against his chest. “I can’t believe you made it! I was so afraid that you’d died in those tunnels.”

  “You can’t believe I’m alive? Of course I made it.” He sounded insulted. “I can’t believe you’re alive.”

  “It was a close call,” I admitted.

  “I’ll have to tell you someday about how I killed a black sorcerer by pretending to be one myself and then barely made it through that gate alive by hiding in the back of a cart, but for now, the king needs you.” He handed me Nia’s reins, and I eagerly stepped forward to rub her nose.

  “Hey, girl,” I murmured. I hadn’t been separated from her for more than an hour or two since we’d escaped from King Armando until last night, and it was a relief to be with the small, tenacious mare once more. “Where is he?” I asked, turning back to Rylan.

  “He’s waiting for you up there.” He pointed down the path between the row of tents where we stood. “Our outer scouts have spotted the Dansiian army. They got here more quickly than we anticipated, and King Osgand and King Damian have both ordered their armies to retreat to the city and the mountains surrounding the castle. We’ll be target practice for the sorcerers out here.”

  I threw Nia’s reins over her head and hurried to her side so I could swing myself up into her saddle. “Are you coming, Captain?” I asked once I’d settled into my seat.

  Rylan smiled ruefully as he looked up at me, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes more prominent in the sunlight. “You weren’t here to claim the title. I was the best of what was left, I suppose. And to answer your question, no, not yet. I have to help organize this chaos and get our men where they need to be. And women,” he added, looking past me.

  I twisted in the saddle to see another familiar figure standing a little way off, arguing with an Antionese soldier I didn’t know. She looked different — her hair was cut short, just above her shoulders, and she wore tight pants, boots, a tunic, and a vest. But when she glanced up and her eyes met mine, almost as if she could feel the weight of my guilty stare, Tanoori’s face broke into a smile. I saw my name form on her lips, though I couldn’t hear her voice, and then she waved the man off and hurried over to us.

  I had to dismount so I could throw my arms around her, biting down on my tongue to keep from crying.

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you made it,” Tanoori said as she hugged me back tightly. “When I heard the news this morning, I couldn’t believe it.”

  I pulled away to brush hastily at the tears on my cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice choked.

  Seeing her brought back all the grief and guilt that I’d tried to bury after Eljin’s death. Because of me, the man she’d allowed herself to fall in love with was gone.

  She took my hand in hers, gripping it tightly, her smile slipping away, her dark eyes bright with unshed tears. “I am, too.”

  “If I’d only been able to —”

  “Stop,” Tanoori cut me off. “It wasn’t your fault. Rylan told me what happened. You did the best you could. He went with you willingly, to protect you. And he did his job.” Her voice wobbled slightly, and she squeezed my hand one more time before letting go and wiping at her eyes brusquely.

  I shook my head, unable to speak.

  “Go,” she urged me. “The king is waiting for you. I have to help here.”

  I nodded and turned back to Nia, climbing into the saddle once more. “I’m glad you got your wish,” I managed to say. “To fight,” I added when she looked at me with her eyebrows lifted.

  She gave me a rueful smile as her hand dropped to rest on the hilt of the sword at her hip. “I’m not nearly good enough yet, but at least I’m not entirely helpless any longer.”

  “Just remember that being small actually gives you an advantage — you’re quicker and harder to catch. Use that.”

  Tanoori nodded. “Thank you, Alexa. Good luck to you.”

  “And you,” I replied, knowing she meant in the upcoming battle.

  With a f
inal glance toward Rylan, Tanoori turned and headed back the way she’d come. He’d stood there the whole time observing, but now he came forward.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated, gazing up at me, his hand resting on Nia’s powerful shoulder muscle, near my leg. “We knew that if it came down to choosing to sacrifice ourselves so you could escape and survive, that we would do it. You were the one who had to get back to Damian. He needs you, Alexa.”

  I clenched my teeth, staring off toward the mountains in the distance as I tried to control my emotions. The sky was a cloudless expanse of crystalline blue, frigid and endless over the rugged peaks that soared high above us, their alabaster perfection slashed by tears of black where jagged rocks cut through the blanket of snow. Rylan hesitantly touched my calf, and I forced myself to look back down at him.

  “You should go,” he said. “We have to hurry before Armando gets here.”

  I nodded, but when he turned to walk away I burst out, “Rylan, wait.”

  He faced me once again, but kept his distance. I hurried to dismount once more, my heart racing beneath my ribs. Armando was coming, and I didn’t know what the future held for any of us. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around him one more time, squeezing him tightly. He hugged me back, his strong arms enfolding me against his body. He sighed softly when he let his head drop to rest against mine for just an instant. And then he pulled away.