Carter appeared outside the cage, and his wicked gaze fell on me. “Besides, one of them is Sithian. Would you prefer I free her?”
The knight moved to his side. “Which one?” he asked, but his accusing eyes had already found me.
“The one scowling.” Carter smirked. “She attacked my man when we found her scouting near the border.”
The knight studied me warily.
Mags took my arm, but I was much stronger. I flew forward. “He’s lying! I was raised in Omaria. I am not a scout!”
The knight drew his sword, as if I could pass through the bars to attack him. As if his life were endangered by my words.
Carter grabbed my bow from the cart and handed it to his brother. “See for yourself.” He returned to the cart, and a moment later tossed one of my bracers at the knight’s feet. “Those markings are not Omarian.”
Not Omarian. What secrets did Rowyn hide?
I thought of Nehemiah’s angry words: Deception is the weapon of a true Sithian wench.
Had she deceived him?
The knight replaced his sword and bent to pick up the bracer, running fingertips along the intricate markings.
“Careful, brother,” said Carter. “Who knows what magic they hold.”
“There is no magic!” I exclaimed. “I wore them to hunt in the woods just south of here. Where I grew up with the drifters.”
The knight’s features hardened. “If you are indeed Sithian, then you’ve just condemned yourself. I’ve met their leader, and he is no friend to your kind.”
The wavering firelight drew shadows over Carter’s face. “Show him your hands.”
I closed my hands into fists, hiding their tremor.
“Open your hands!” he yelled. Behind me, Mags whimpered.
Carter swung open the cage door in a noise of shrieking metal. I scrambled back, but he climbed in enough to reach me. By my ankle, I was dragged to the opening.
“No!” Mags cried, and she said other things. But I only heard the scrape of wood and hay over my ear and my nails clawing for a hold. The edge of the flooring ground under my ribs as I was pulled through the door. My body hit the dirt in a heap.
“Carter!”
The knight knelt before me, one hand held up to his brother. “It’s not your place to punish her. If she’s guilty, the king will decide her fate.”
My body went rigid. I’d surely die if the king found out my ancestry. The knight grabbed my wrist.
“Show me,” he commanded quietly.
Dread pooled in my belly. I would have cut off my hands to be rid of those marks. I stared hard at the knight and turned my palm. He rose abruptly, dropping my wrist.
“I must take her to the king.”
“She is mine to deal with,” said Carter.
“This is beyond you. She may know things the king needs to hear.”
“She knows nothing! I’ve already interrogated her, Maledin. You’ll be wasting the king’s time.”
“That is not for you to decide.”
Slowly I raised to my knees, wincing at the pain in my ribs and the headache throbbing above my eyes. The men went on arguing, fighting for the right to take me.
I clenched my teeth and planted my feet, pitching my body into a run. Sticks and rocks stabbed my soles, and I took hits from leaves and branches. I weaved through the maze of trees, stumbling into trunks, squinting. Searching. The forest swayed around me, unsteady.
“This way!” a voice shouted behind me.
I pushed myself faster, but I was leaning too heavily to the side, unable to adjust to the spinning. A sour taste flooded my mouth. At last, I spotted a grouping of plants and threw myself onto the soft patch, grabbing a handful of their stems and shoving them under my waistband. The men were on me in seconds.
“Don’t harm her,” Maledin shouted. “Bring her back to the fire.”
A strong arm circled my waist, and pain blossomed over my ribs. I was hauled like a beast, carried like stray livestock to the flames.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ETAN
“What did you say to him?”
Cedric sat on the ground, hugging his knees and legs crossed at the ankles. I considered ignoring him. It was because the servants felt freer in my presence that many of the knights still viewed me as one. But my father would never approve of arrogance.
“The king’s courage isn’t dependent upon my words or the words of any man. I merely listened.”
Cedric peered up at me, and I thought he looked something like a bird.
“Is that what you recommend, Sir Etan? Next time...”
“Next time, you will follow his instructions as always.”
“But your father told me—”
My eyes snapped to his. “Don’t mistake my father’s care for management.”
The boy pulled back, visibly shrinking, and I regretted my tone.
“I’m sorry,” I said, rubbing a hand over my face. “You’ve done well in his absence. I’ll tell him so.”
Cedric turned his gaze to the fire. “You must miss him.”
My jaw clenched. There had to be a line, regardless of what Father said. To share intimate feelings with a servant boy wasn’t becoming of a knight. I swept my gaze over the camp, eyes searching for Maledin or Aldred. But neither had returned.
“My father died with all the others,” Cedric continued, missing the cue to end the conversation. “I imagine it’s a rare thing for a knight to have his father near all the time.”
Despite myself, I gave a little. “My mother and sister died as well...with the others.”
Cedric’s head bowed, shaking gently from side to side. Quietly, he murmured, “I am sorry to hear it.”
Something in his tone pricked my chest with grief. But it wasn’t my mother flashing in my thoughts. If I lost my father, I’d have no one left who shared my blood. I tried to find comfort in the king’s words, but all I saw was my father, large and strong, confined to a bed, unable to lift water to his own mouth.
A figure trudged through the brush, and I rose fast. Aldred came into view carrying a deer across his shoulders. With a grunt, he hoisted it over his head and to the ground, upsetting a pile of dead leaves.
“Get to work on this, boy,” he called to Cedric. “And where is Maledin? He owes me coin.”
Cedric slowly stood, hesitating, but I stepped in his way. “Cedric is the king’s man. He’ll find another.” I motioned for him to go, and he ducked away.
Aldred towered over his prize, caked in dirt and sweat. “Has Maledin not returned?”
“Not yet.” I crossed to examine the deer.
Aldred groaned and sat, planting his heavy weight on a fallen log and dropping a bow and sheath of arrows to the ground. His deep voice rumbled like grinding rock.
“What I wouldn’t give for Fanny’s cooking. She’d know how best to prepare it.”
“It’s a fine beast."
He lifted his arm, rolling his shoulder. Cloth concealed a wound above his elbow. “That thing weighs as much as my sons put together.”
I pictured him carrying all four of his sons at once, juggling their weight as they climbed his towering height.
Three servants rushed over to lift the deer, carrying its carcass away to be gutted. Aldred rose again with a grunt and trudged toward the forest, fastening a sword belt around his waist.
“Where are you going?” I called after him.
He grumbled his answer without turning. “To find Maledin before the boars do.”
I jogged to catch up, following Aldred into the trees, fastening my own sword belt in place. The thick forest closed in around us, casting darkness where the canopy blotted out the moon.
Despite his size, Aldred made little noise treading over the littered, forest floor. Creature sounds filled the silence, night animals drawn out by the cool air. We moved carefully forward, just south of the army. Firelight flickered north of us, small patches of light surrounded by large, moving shadows, the same image
repeating again and again, farther than I could see. Their voices and laughter boomed and echoed, winding and scattering through the dense trees. It was a wonder Aldred found a deer near enough to kill. Then again, another half-day south, and we’d be in drifter territory. Perhaps they’d driven the beasts our way on their own hunts.
A memory leapt forward. Small Eris bounding to her mother at the yellow field’s edge. A sharp slap to her head. There’d been a raid that night on the village just inside that border line. Omarian men attacked a Sithian community as blood payment for stolen lives. The next morning, scouts arrived at our camp, and I’d listened in horror as the king explained the event to my father. I thought surely the girl was dead, and for years my young heart grieved her.
Aldred raised a hand and dropped behind a grouping of large bushes. I ducked into the shadows, listening.
Footfalls sounded close by. Careless and loud, human. Aldred threw me a look, and I nodded. Together we broke from hiding, drawing our swords, hoping to startle Maledin in good fun. But another stood wide-eyed in his place.
“Stop where you are,” Aldred ordered. A young man quickly drew a knife from his waist. He was tall and broad, built like a soldier but dressed in simple, traveling clothes. No older than twenty.
“What’s your business here?” I demanded. “These woods are closed under the king’s order.”
“I’m tracking someone,” he said. “She ran this way only a day ago.” Slowly, he lowered the knife, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders. Challenging us.
“This land has been emptied. So, unless she can hide from the king’s army—”
“She can.”
Aldred raised an eyebrow. “If she’s evaded your capture, perhaps she doesn’t want to be found. Is it the drifter way now to chase your women into the shadow of the northern woods? After she’d risk a bear’s bite to leave you?”
“Drifter?” I asked under my breath. He jerked his chin toward the traveler.
“Only drifter men wear women’s jewelry in their ears.”
In the pale light, I caught sight of the gold ring through his ear and smirked.
The young man glowered. “I see mockery is a knight’s cover for cowardice.”
My neck heated. “Take care how you speak—”
Aldred threw a hand up to stop me. Tension coiled in my shoulders.
“Enough.” To the man, he said, “Return to your camp.”
“I can’t do that. Not without finding her.”
“Look around you, boy. The army covers nearly half of this forest. Unless she’s a wraith, we’d have sent her away by now.”
“Nevertheless, I can’t return.”
Aldred’s eyes narrowed. “I can have you before the king in minutes. Perhaps you prefer explaining to him why you disobey a direct order.”
“Fine then!” the young man shouted. He threw the knife to the ground, where it landed flat on its side. He raised his hands. There was something erratic about his countenance. Desperate and unbalanced. “Take me to the king,” he demanded. “Throw me at his feet and accuse me. Still, I will not leave until she’s found!”
“Who is this woman to you?” I asked, relaxing my stance. “Your lover?”
He winced, frowning. “No, not that. We were raised together.” He stared a moment at his hand, curling and uncurling a fist. His jaw hardened, and stern eyes shot up to meet mine. “I have to right the wrong done to her. I don’t wish to cause trouble, but I will not leave until I know hope is gone.”
Aldred glanced at me. I tried to decipher his thoughts, what question he was sending with his eyes. The conviction in this traveler’s gaze struck a chord with me. I knew it, in my way. Respected it, even.
“He can’t be found wandering,” I said. “If we let him continue, any number of soldiers will find him as we did.”
Aldred sheathed his sword in a swift movement and grunted. Some days he was more beast than man. He turned his broad back to us and started toward camp. I moved to follow, thinking now of Maledin, who was yet to appear.
“What should I do?” the traveler called after us.
“Don’t forget your knife,” was Aldred’s reply.
The man rushed to catch up, swiping his blade from the ground as he moved.
We returned quickly to camp, and Aldred pressed our new friend onto a stump. “Stay.”
The young man sprung to his feet again. His hair was dark as coal in the fire’s glow, as were his furious eyes. He watched as we readied our horses, his arms coiled for a fight, but he wouldn’t dare with so many soldiers watching.
“What’s your name, boy?”
The traveler shot a scornful look at Aldred, who didn’t glance up from fixing his horse’s saddle strap to see it. He patted the animal’s back before climbing on.
“I am Danior,” was the reply. For one in need of the king’s favor, his tone was too sharp.
“Well, Danior,” said Aldred, meeting a hard gaze with his own, “enjoy our fires and food. When we return, we’ll discuss what to do with you.”
Danior stood with balled fists, his body poised for flight. “Am I a prisoner?”
“You’re only a prisoner if you try to leave,” I answered from my mount. “The king ordered the forest to be emptied, as you’ve been told. If you leave to find your friend, you’ll be found guilty, then punished.”
Danior laughed incredulously.
“As long as you stay,” Aldred added, “you’re our guest. Leave the glow of these fires, and you’ll find yourself in ropes.” He gestured to soldiers listening. “You’ve no sense of what these men have lived through in the last days. Don’t test their patience.”
Danior threw his arms wide. “I only wish to help her!”
I turned my horse to the tree line. “We ride in search of our own, but if your friend is near, we’ll find her.”
Danior reluctantly surrendered, dropping defeated to the stump again as we eased our horses into the dark night. Soldiers flanked his sides, sitting near enough to control his movements. His story appeared genuine, but a well-practiced lie often did.
We rode without torches, adjusting our eyes to the black distance. Moonlight played off the trees, drawing up long, crooked shadows that shivered in the cool wind. Their branches contorted as limbs, living and menacing. I fixed my gaze on the path just ahead, hardening against the fresh memories of death the dark woods conjured.
Aldred took the lead.
“He rode west,” he told me over his shoulder. “I was a fool to let him ride off alone.”
I laughed under my breath. “How is it that such a man could hunt so poorly?”
“Hunting requires a different skill set than war,” Aldred called back. “Throw Maledin into battle, and he’ll tear through any army alone. But stealth and patience...”
“Maybe there are women nearby. He’s treating them to a song in that high tenor of his.”
Laughter rolled deep in Aldred’s chest. “Then his siren call will draw us in.”
I wiped a hand over my mouth to tame a grin. The contrasts of Maledin’s nature were beyond reckoning.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ERIS
Metal chains dug into my wrists, already rubbing the skin raw. I knelt on the soil with my arms raised, secured to the cage bars. My head pounded.
“It’s the mark of the diavok,” whispered the knight. Carter scoffed.
“She’s a born slave. Marked by the man who owned her. It’s the Sithian way.” He walked toward me with his hands on his hips, and I watched him through the hair falling across my face. “Trace records of that mark, and you’ll know her origins. You know this, brother. They brand them like cattle.”
Maledin’s eyes grew wild. “Don’t tell me what I know, brother. You forget I’m a knight in His Majesty’s army, and I’ve seen more of the world than you. I’m telling you, that mark is no mere branding. See the color…how the flesh grows redder even now. The curse in her lives.”
Carter rolled hi
s eyes. I reflected the malice in his expression, glaring back though my eyelids dragged low.
The word echoed in my skull.
Diavok.
A chill traveled my body, though I’d never heard the word before. My fingers bent, fingertips sliding over the thick line raised across my palm. A strange sensation followed the touch. The mounded skin was sensitive...raw.
One of the men chimed in, “They’re a myth.”
“Are not,” snapped another.
“Why, have you seen one?”
The second man jumped to his feet. “No, but my mother has. At the border not three years ago. Pulled a tree clean from the ground, roots and all, without more than a glance.”
The first man laughed heartily. “That old hag hasn’t seen straight in years.”
The men nearly went to blows until Carter ordered them to silence. They settled on their separate logs again, throwing angry looks in place of words. I lifted my head enough to see Mags, who studied me like all the others. But there was kindness there. Pity.
Carter crouched before me. His rough fingers pushed the hair from my face, hooking it behind my ear. I flinched away.
He didn’t speak. This time when he looked at me, scanning my face and body and hands, he was searching for something. I saw it then...the weakness. His brother’s words had created uncertainty. Cracked his confidence. It might work to my advantage.
I smoothed away the scowl and lifted the corner of my lips in a smirk. Carter’s eyes widened for a second before they narrowed.
“No diavok would remain captive this long.” He returned to Maledin. “She fought us with arrows and strength, not sorcery.”
“This is why we must take her to the king,” the knight implored. “Let him determine her motives.”
“She is my prize!” Carter shouted. “Mine to deal with.” His tone darkened. “It’s time for you to leave, Maledin. Get back to your king and your war.”
“Carter, listen to me—”
“You’re outnumbered here, brother. I’m not above using force to drive you away.”
Songs in the Night: Book One Page 10