Tears of the Wolf (Wrath and Weeping #1)

Chapter 34 Brynn

Brynn

She was weightless. Formless.

There was peace in the silence. Rest.

Brynn felt as if she floated over an endless void, at the precipice of infinity. All she had to do was wait.

Brynn.

She knew that voice. Brynn tried to turn her head, but she didn’t seem to have a body.

Get up, Brynn.

That couldn’t be right. Brynn tried to open her eyes, tried to see, but she couldn’t.

Get up.

Aelfwynn?

There was the sense of a sigh, though not quite the sound. You’re underwater. You’re going to drown if you stay here.

Wynn, is that you?

Who else?

But you died.

And so will you if you don’t move.

Brynn made an effort to shake her head, but she still couldn’t seem to feel anything, much less move anything.

You need to get up.

Brynn couldn’t even tell which direction was up. How can I hear you?

Because you’re dying, idiot. Now get your head out of the water.

Dying. How strange. Was this what it felt like? Oblivion? Blackness? This was not so bad.

If you join us today, I will make you sorry, the voice said. Very sorry. Do you hear me?

That was Aelfwynn. It had to be.

Who is us?

The dead, little sister. Aelfwynn’s voice was full of frustration.

The dead.

Brynn felt a tremble go through her formless being.

Live, Brynn. For me. For yourself. For Cenric.

Cenric?

That name clanged against her awareness and for just a moment she felt water rushing into her mouth, clogging her lungs.

Wake up, Aelfwynn ordered. Wake up.

Osbeorn? That name rose to Brynn’s awareness. She needed to know.

Mildreth is taking care of him.

Paega’s wife?

I was never much good with babies.

This had to be real. Brynn would have never imagined such a thing as Paega’s precious dead wife looking after Osbeorn.

I like Mildreth, Aelfwynn added quickly. She saw how you always left offerings for her and her children’s graves. She’s grateful. The impression of Aelfwynn’s snicker came from the voice. She has a large stick she’s been saving for when Paega gets here.

Brynn would definitely not have imagined that.

Will you wake up now? The humor of Aelfwynn’s voice was gone, replaced once again by annoyance.

Yes.

It seemed that agreeing was all Brynn needed to do.

Her awareness slammed back into her body and with it, pain. A burning sensation seared through her chest, her throat, and radiated down her back.

She was underwater, just as the voice had said.

Survival instinct took over and Brynn thrashed. She scrambled for the surface, but she couldn’t reach it. She was caught in the current, rushing along too fast, being swept out to sea.

Cenric’s vision was coming true. Brynn was going to drown with her arms tied, just as he had seen.

Large hands seized her roughly from above. Someone caught her elbow, yanking so hard it nearly jerked her shoulder out of socket. A male voice she didn’t recognize shouted overhead.

“I have her!” the stranger called. “I have Lady Brynn!” It was a man with most his face covered by a helmet.

Brynn coughed and hacked. Her arms were still bound but the collar was gone. She was nowhere near where she’d last seen.

A dog barked, frenzied and fearful.

They appeared to be on a beach lined by pine trees, a rocky expanse with black sand stretching in both directions. She could see the mouth of the river, but it seemed she had been swept out along with the rest of the remains of the ship that bobbed and floated on the waves.

The dark-haired stranger sloshed out of the water, dragging her along as the rope tied around his waist guided him back to the shore.

“Who are you?” Brynn’s voice came out as a croak.

“I’m Evred, thane to Olfirth.”

Brynn’s half-drowned mind caught up as he dragged her ashore, hauling her onto the beach like a sack of eels. “Olfirth?” She collapsed on the muddy riverbank, gasping and choking.

A black and grey shape slammed into Brynn, slobbering a rough tongue over her face.

“Snapper?” Brynn coughed.

Snapper barked at his name, batting at her nervously.

“We wouldn’t have found you if not for the dog.” Evred crouched beside her, looking her over as he removed the rope from around his own waist. It seemed several men on the shore had helped pull him back out of the river’s rushing flow. “The water is shallow here, but the current is fierce. Deadly, if you’re not careful.”

“Best be going,” another of the men said. “There’s a fight upriver from the sound of it.”

“Cenric,” Brynn gasped. She pulled in magic and this time, ka rose to do her bidding. The ropes were made of flax twine and though the fibers had been dead a long time, they took in her power and with a little guidance melted off her in wet clumps.

Brynn flailed as her arms came free, wincing as feeling rushed into her strained chest and shoulders. She pulled in more ka , letting it settle around her joints and muscles. The ache lessened, but she would probably be sore for some time.

“Why didn’t you do that sooner?” Evred wondered.

Snapper whined, nosing at Brynn’s side.

Brynn stumbled to her feet, sand squishing between her bare toes. She’d lost her boots in the river. “Where is Cenric?” She faced down the three armored thanes in front of her.

Where was her mother, for that matter? Esa was back upriver and—

“Where is my husband?” Brynn whirled on the three men, spotting their horses tied behind them up the beach.

Cenric was here somewhere, he had to be. Brynn knew it with a desperate certainty that clawed at her like talons.

“You’re safe, lady,” one of the other men assured her. “Olfirth gave us orders to find and guard you if we found you. You’re in no—”

These men didn’t understand. Brynn wasn’t worried for herself at all. “Cenric.” She looked to Snapper, meeting the dog’s eyes.

Snapper whined, going rigid.

“Cenric.” Brynn repeated the name in a plea.

Snapper spun around, racing back into the trees.

Brynn tore after him.

“Lady Brynn! They’re fighting!”

Brynn was out of breath, coughing, and barefoot, but the thanes were fully armored and partially waterlogged.

She raced after Snapper back toward the river. Her mother would kill Cenric if she got the chance. Once again, the person Brynn loved most was in danger and she wasn’t there, couldn’t protect him.

Sticks and rocks lashed at her feet, but she kept running. The trees near the river had been bent back, as if forced by some great maelstrom. Silt and mud had been forced up, smearing the surrounding trees in what had once been the river bottom.

Snapper’s paws made a soft pattering sound as he led the way.

Brynn had never seen anything like this before. Even more shocking, she had been the one to make it happen. She could sense the figures along the riverbank, a cluster of bodies in two groups facing down one another.

Battle lines. A shield wall. Just like Aelfwynn.

She sensed Snapper had stopped beside a figure ahead and rushed toward it, thinking it might be Cenric or another of Olfirth’s thanes.

Neirin appeared around the tree, bleeding, covered in mud, and stumbling awkwardly on one foot. He grabbed her arm. “Lady Brynn, we must flee.”

Snapper woofed, seeming confused.

She pulled away from Neirin. “Let me go.”

“Lady Brynn, I beg you,” Neirin pleaded as both of them shivered with the cold.

“Release me,” Brynn growled. “Now.”

Neirin lunged for her, wrapping her in a bear hug.

Snapper nipped at Neirin in outrage, sensing Brynn’s distress.

Brynn slashed with her power, slicing across Neirin’s face.

Neirin caught part of it, reshaping her spell as it met his skin. Her attack left shallow scratches instead of deep cuts.

But Brynn had an advantage—he needed her alive.

She rammed her knee between his legs. Aelfwynn would have been proud.

Neirin cursed, but that gave her the opening to get in close. Brynn grabbed his neck. Neirin snapped up his own spell, trying to defend himself.

He might be able to overpower her body, but he was no match for her magic.

Brynn’s power sliced through him in a single, clean stroke. It had been a long time since she had been in the war, but the killing spells came to her as easily as a familiar song.

Neirin’s eyes went wide in shock and then his head tumbled back, followed by his body a moment later. The corpse collapsed against her, and she shoved it, scrambling away.

Snapper yelped in surprise, skittering back.

The three pursuing thanes caught up in time to see her mother’s bisected guard thud to the forest floor. One of the men cursed and made a strange gesture, Evred and the other just stared.

Brynn needed to find her husband. “Cenric?”

Snapper whined, looking toward the shieldwall. He seemed torn. Had Cenric ordered him to stay out of the way?

Brynn scrambled through the trees, branches catching at her hair and shift. She was cold, deathly cold, but she couldn’t think about that right now.

She reached the edge of the devastation where the broken and flattened trees began. The two forces came into view.

Olfirth’s thanes had drawn up into battle lines, their shields forming a single row, though there was not quite enough space for a full shield wall.

Where was her husband? She couldn’t spot him in the tight press of bodies.

A flare of power caught her attention.

Her mother stood facing down the thanes with a small force of her surviving warriors, four of them appeared to have magic of some kind. The seafaring sorceress crouched in the reeds not far away.

“Where is Brynn?” roared Cenric. “Where is my wife, you bitch?”

Despite everything, Brynn’s heart leapt. He had come for her. Cenric had come to rescue her. He was alive.

“You dare attack me?” That was Selene, indignant to the end. “You have murdered my servants! Innocent girls!”

“They were guilty the moment they helped you take my wife.” Cenric spat the words without the slightest trace of remorse. “Now where is she?”

Brynn didn’t dare speak. Her mother was too focused on the thanes, but even a word now would ruin the element of surprise. She was outnumbered. She needed to strike first.

“You will pay for this, upstart,” Selene sneered. Brynn’s mother sounded truly angry. Not even Brynn had heard her this angry before. “You attack innocent sorceresses, murder my warriors, accost—”

“Will you tell me what happened to Brynn, or shall we get back to the killing?”

This was a distraction. Brynn could sense the vague outline of several of the seafarer’s men beside her, lending their power to a spell. She realized with some surprise that at least two of them were also sorcerers, but she had missed it before. Brynn’s mother faced Cenric and his thanes from farther down the riverbank, but it was a distraction while the seafarer prepared to strike them from the left.

Power swirled around Selene, though it would be invisible to Cenric and his thanes. Same for the seafarer and her small group of surviving oarsmen.

If the amount of magic being gathered was any indication, they were trying to catch Cenric and the thanes in the middle of two attacks.

Brynn crouched in the shade of the broken pines, her first impulse was to draw in power, but she didn’t want to alert the other sorceresses to her presence.

Cenric was in a trap, and he didn’t know it. Fear tried to wrap its icy claws around her. Brynn forced herself to be calm, to think.

Brynn’s mother released her first spell. Selene was no battle sorceress, but her power was significant.

Fire roared straight for Cenric and the line of shields even as the seafaring sorceress sent invisible claws straight into the line of thanes.

Most blows glanced off the shields, greaves, and helmets, but the heat was too much. Fire was one of the most difficult things to create, but it could be effective.

The line buckled, the men curling in behind their shields as they drew back.

They were going to die.

Brynn didn’t have time to think.

She clawed like a madwoman out of the trees, hands sliding on rock, silt, wood splinters, and debris. She skidded down the side of the riverbank, half falling, half rolling between the two lines.

She doubted she was strong enough to take on eight other magic users, but it didn’t matter. The other sorcerers might kill her, but it didn’t matter.

On her hands and knees between the thanes and the sorceresses, Brynn pulled directly on the others’ spells. These were killing spells, burgeoning with power, but simple.

Magic was just ka expressing the will of a mortal. Brynn might not match their combined strength, but she had honed her focus for years. She imposed her will on their spells, dragging the power toward herself.

Pain exploded across her skin as unseen blades sliced her and fire turned the water soaking her clothes to steam.

Blood splattered as their spells sliced through her shift, but the spells barely made it skin deep before she absorbed them, drinking them into her body. The ka healed her instants later, some of it mending the damage it had done and some of it flowing through her, ready to be put to another use.

The pain sliced and cut and burned, but she planted her hands in the silt beneath her and focused. Magic was nothing without focus. Runes, patterns, and weaves were all useful for magic, but only because they helped focus.

White-hot agony covered her whole body and Brynn screamed with the effort of taking in so much so fast. She had thought her mother, and the others might hesitate to attack her, but it seemed they were more concerned with saving themselves.

They showed no mercy. Brynn’s vision went gold, nearly white from all the pain and power assailing her from what felt like every angle.

On her hands and knees, Brynn gritted her teeth, building a shield. Screaming, she bent their power back, refusing to let the spells reach past her—refusing to let them touch Cenric.

“Brynn!” Cenric cried her name, but a scrambling sound told her someone held him back.

Good. She wasn’t sure how long she could hold this shield. Panting, she held the barrier between her mother, the seafarer, and Cenric and the line of thanes at her back.

Brynn was still soaking wet, her hair a mad tangle, covered in dirt, silt, and bleeding from countless cuts from head to foot, facing down at least eight other sorcerers and sorceresses.

Eight other spell weavers she had just overpowered. Six of them were men and likely not as well-taught, but still.

“Brynn,” her mother gasped. “How?” Selene watched her with a strange expression that was half fear, half anger.

The seafaring sorceress and her men edged back, but where could they go? Their ship had been destroyed and they were stranded.

“When Aelfwynn died, I was helpless,” Brynn croaked, voice shaky from the cold. “I will not be helpless again.”

Years of practice, of pushing herself, and using her magic every single day had made her stronger. Brynn’s discipline had matured. She might not be able to overpower Selene and the others outright, but if they wanted to keep throwing spells at her, she had the control to impose her will on their magic. Their killing spells were child’s play compared to the nuance and complexity of the healing spells she had worked almost daily for years.

“I wanted to be left alone.” Brynn’s voice came out as a rasp, a whine. “I only wanted to be left alone.”

Selene shook her head slightly. “Brynn…it doesn’t have to come to this.”

“You brought it to this.” Brynn’s words ended in a whimper.

“Brynn.” Selene shifted. Was she going to run? “Brynn, don’t. We can talk about this.” She spread her hands, releasing ka.

Brynn looked to the seafaring sorceress and her men. They didn’t attack, but they still held onto magic. The seafarer looked to Brynn’s mother, a question on her face, but Selene was looking to Brynn.

A hesitant smile shaped Selene’s lips, probably meant to be cajoling. “Trust me, child.”

Those words. The exact words her mother had spoken to Aelfwynn before sending her sister to an unmarked grave.

Brynn sent a lash of power straight for her mother. The spell struck Selene in her exposed neck, slicing through skin, cartilage, and bone.

Selene’s eyes locked with Brynn’s—shock, horror, and abject disbelief—before she crumpled to the ground.

One of Selene’s surviving thanes hurled a javelin. Brynn ducked and the missile struck one of the shields at her back.

That attack had been meant to strike her chest.

Brynn gathered power for a counterattack, but a hatchet struck the enemy thane in his temple, caving in his skull. The man toppled, and one of his fellows made to run.

In an instant, the remaining men tried to flee, but they were tangled in the rushes. The line of thanes at Brynn’s back rushed past her to fall on them, hacking, stabbing, and spearing at the men with ruthless ferocity.

Brynn watched the bloody work with a distant kind of horror. They were her enemies. This was the way of war, the way of the world.

The seafaring sorceress dropped to her knees, hands going up. She held no weapons, but Brynn could see she released ka, too. “Mercy, Lady Brynn.”

Brynn stared at the woman, feeling oddly numb. Should she let these people be killed?

“Mercy for me and my sailors.” The sorceress scrambled to Brynn, half-crawling as the fighting turned to butchery. “Mercy!” The seafarer bowed low at her feet.

Brynn clamped a hand down on top of the woman’s head, throwing up her arm to stop Edric from swinging a second hatchet. “Hold!” Brynn ordered.

The small thane scowled but blocked one of Olfirth’s men who tried to stab the woman with a spear. “Alas, Lady Brynn says no.”

Brynn was risking treachery from the woman, but both knew this stranger and her four surviving sailors were as good as dead without her protection. “What is your name?”

Panting, the seafarer kept her head bowed, shoulders relaxing just a little. “Keeva, daughter of Thesrin.”

Brynn’s thoughts snagged on the name. “Thesrin Green-Mantle?”

Thesrin Green-Mantle had been one of the sorceresses who had died alongside Aelfwynn. She had been a kind woman of middle years, but she had followed Aelfwynn to the end.

“Yes, lady.” Keeva remained bowed as her sailors came scrambling close behind her, hands in plain sight and heads likewise down. Brynn realized that one of the sailors was another woman, though she hadn’t noticed that before.

“Brynn!” Cenric grabbed Brynn, pulling her into his chest and covering her with his shield. “Brynn, are you alright? You’re bleeding. So much blood.”

“I granted them sanctuary,” Brynn mumbled between chattering teeth. “We’re letting these five go.”

“Whatever you want.” Cenric glared past her to the kneeling sorceress and her cohorts. “Get out of here.”

“If you haven’t noticed,” Keeva sounded almost annoyed as she rose to her feet, “our ship is in pieces.”

“Walk,” Cenric growled. “If you start south now and move through the night, you’ll be out of Ombra by sunup.”

“You expect us to walk through the night?” Keeva stood carefully, her sailors close at her heels.

“Be thankful you’re alive after you abducted my wife,” Cenric spat back. “Now get out of my lands.”

Keeva hesitated for just a moment, probably realizing she addressed Brynn’s husband and an alderman, not some random thane. “Apologies, lord, but I never agreed to abduct anyone. Selene misled me.”

Whatever explanation Keeva might have, no one else seemed interested in hearing it. Olfirth’s thanes had finished off what remained of Selene’s men and were picking over the bodies. Several glared in the direction of Keeva and her survivors, particularly at the gold temple rings she wore.

“Start moving,” Cenric ordered, jabbing his finger southward. “My wife may be in a merciful mood, but I am not.”

Brynn could have argued with him, but he was right. Just because she had decided to spare these people didn’t mean they wouldn’t head straight back to the Mothers with the tale of what had happened.

Keeva seemed to realize she and her sailors were still in danger. She motioned for them to follow. “We’ll be going, then.” She jerked her head and one of the sailors led the way, heading toward the south.

“Just follow the coastline,” Edric called out helpfully. “Can’t miss it. It’s got a whole bunch of water next to it.”

Keeva shot a glare toward him, but wisely didn’t snipe back.

Snapper trotted out of the trees, coming to stand hesitantly beside Cenric. The two of them shared a look and Brynn thought they must be speaking in their minds.

Brynn watched to make sure Olfirth’s thanes didn’t try to attack the survivors, then she let her eyes close.

She had killed her own mother.

“Brynn?” Cenric’s entire demeanor changed the moment he looked down to her. Everything about him softened, turning gentle in the space of a breath.

Brynn curled against the hard overlapping plates of his armor, wishing she could feel his chest. “It’s pointless. All pointless.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Cenric shifted, catching her as she slumped against him.

“This.” Brynn looked at the carnage scattered across the riverbank. “The Istovari won’t leave me out of their games. More will come.”

“Then we’ll kill them, too.” Cenric said it like a vow, like he was daring the Mothers to try it.

“For what?” Brynn shook her head, leaning against him.

Cenric was solid, steady as he dragged her closer, holding her up as her legs buckled. “For freedom. For peace.”

“And throw away all these lives?” Brynn stared down at her hands, stained with her own blood mingled with Neirin’s.

More would come. She was too valuable to be allowed to go free. If what her mother had said was true, and the Mothers had been planning this for generations, they would not allow her to escape even now. If not her, then perhaps her children—if she and Cenric had any.

“If they come against us, they throw away their own lives,” Cenric growled. “You owe nothing to the people who would enslave you.”

Those words seemed selfish, strange. Her whole life she had been told what she owed her family, her mother, her people, her kingdom. Cenric was the first person besides Aelfwynn to say the world owed her something, but perhaps it did. It at least owed her a choice. The right to choose her own destiny.

“Oh, love.” Cenric looked her over. “You’re shivering.”

“The water was cold.” And the fire of those spells had warmed her for only a moment.

“You’re covered in blood.”

“The cuts are mostly healed,” she mumbled. “I will be fine.”

“Brynn.” Cenric rubbed her back, tucking her against his shoulder. “We’ll get a fire going and get you into dry clothes. Then we’ll get you home and I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Brynn wanted him to take his armor off so she could feel his body heat better. She was cold, sore, and weary from using so much magic. Ka sped the body’s natural healing process and could grant extra strength, but it did not fix exhaustion.

She was numb. So much death. So much blood.

She’d killed Neirin and her mother and the riverbank was littered with corpses—all of the sorceresses and their men.

“Any more of them?” Edric sounded just a little too cheerful as he yanked his hatchet from the skull of a dead man. He pulled something shiny from the man’s belt pouch, inspecting the silver coins appreciatively.

“You said we could keep whatever treasure we found,” grumbled one of Olfirth’s thanes.

“Ho, friend. I killed this one,” Edric quipped.

“No fighting.” Olfirth lumbered up to the two men, glaring between them. He carried a bloody axe.

“Indeed.” Edric divided the coins he’d taken from the corpse. “What do you say we share?”

The strange thane snatched the offered half with a grumble, leaning over to rummage over other bodies.

“Esa.” Brynn pushed away from Cenric, alarm rocking through her at the memory.

“Esa?”

“They left her tied to a tree upriver.”

“I’ll look.” Edric gathered up his hatchets and looked to the thane he’d just shared silver with. “Care to help?”

The stranger looked to Olfirth, but the old man nodded.

Edric and Olfirth’s thane headed upriver at an easy jog. Esa had been left close to the river. It should be easy enough to find her and bring her back.

Brynn wasn’t sure she had the strength to heal the girl just yet, but she would as soon as she could. Brynn’s mind moved slowly. Perhaps she was in shock, but she turned to the old warrior a few paces away. “Olfirth?”

The old thane inclined his head in the ghost of a bow. “Lady Brynn. I’ve never seen a ship ripped apart before. Most impressive. I was looking forward to taking it, but that was impressive nonetheless”

Brynn looked to Cenric, confused.

Olfirth answered. “Your husband came to me this morning and all but begged me to help find you.”

“I did not beg,” Cenric countered.

Olfirth shrugged. “Might as well. Removed your helmet and dismounted your horse and everything. Even asked nicely.”

Brynn looked to Cenric.

Her husband’s jaw tightened, and she could tell he didn’t appreciate this spin on events. “The rest of my thanes were either injured or needed to gather the cattle,” Cenric argued. “I didn’t have much choice.”

“People were hurt?” If injuries were severe, she might not be able to help for a day or so and that could cost lives.

“Yes,” Cenric admitted. “No life-threatening injuries besides my four thanes who were watching the cattle pens last night.” Cenric glared at the partially beheaded body of Selene. “Their throats were cut.”

“Oh.” Her mother had been willing to kill four random men and seriously injure if not murder others.

“So, your husband asked me for help,” Olfirth repeated. He scratched at his beard, looking over the carnage on the beach. “We should probably burn these bodies.”

Brynn turned back into Cenric so that he filled her entire vision, hiding her from the corpses. “You asked Olfirth for help?”

Cenric’s throat bobbed. “I had to do something.” His anguished expression said what remained unspoken—his foretelling, the one that had warned of her death.

Cenric had gone to a man he despised, admitted his weakness, and asked for help. That would have been a blow to anyone’s pride, but to a young warrior constantly accused of being an unworthy upstart?

Brynn had known many warriors and many fighting men. Most of them would rather let their mistakes kill them than admit to being wrong. To them, meekness was worse than physical injury and humiliation was worse than death.

But Cenric had been willing to sacrifice his pride for her? Something caught in Brynn’s chest.

“You love me.” Embarrassment burned her face the next instant. She shouldn’t put words in his mouth. She shouldn’t expect—

“Yes.” Cenric’s answer cut off her doubts. “Yes, I love you, wife.”

Brynn’s throat tightened and she thought she might have tears left after all. “I love you,” she whispered, leaning in close, keeping the words for just the two of them. “I’ve never been in love before, but I’m in love with you.”

Cenric smiled, creasing the dirt smeared over his face. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, sweeping away the tears. They weren’t sad tears this time, but perhaps happy wasn’t the right word either.

Hopeful.

For the first time in a long time, Brynn had hope. The future, if still shrouded in mystery, did not seem quite so dark.

Cenric brushed her hair back from her face, gently, tenderly. “Let’s go home, love.”

At their feet, Snapper let off a happy woof.