Chapter 19
I accompanied Rhyder into battle. Because of course I did. Congregation whores were
allowed to stay at camp for holy men to slake their lust before and after returning to battle. The first incursion was designed for where the Prophet’s reconnaissance had found a weakness in the powerful electric border gates.
There was another reason I had come with Rhyder. And I knew it was because he suspected someone of arranging to have me kidnapped six years ago.
The temporary camp was set in the shelter of a tall hill outside Ronan’s lands, guarded by several Congregants to protect their battle gear, drones, and supplies, and after Rhyder had left, I was sitting in a tent with the flap open when something flickered in the fog.
It was probably just a wild animal, maybe a deer. But I still sat curiously straighter, putting down the mug of mountain tea Rhyder had made for me even though he was preparing for a bloody slaughter, my eyes straining in the fog. But by the time the shadows had turned into the shape of a very tall man, it was too late.
The shriek was ripped from my throat as the camp guard finally turned around. Too late though. He had barely gotten his knife out when the other man attacked, an efficient brutal thrust into his gut.
I saw blood spurt from the guard’s chest as he fell in awful agony. The other two guards were on him with a roar, but the shadows had moved and I recognized the attacker now, because he was the man Rhyder had gone to kill, the only man I knew who had actually given Rhyder a scar.
Ronan
He was quicker than both of the guards, kicking one brutally away with his boots, and his hand moved like a flash over the other one, a vicious fast slice across the throat.
Then he bent forward and stabbed the first man in the heart, a quick cruel twist of his weapon.
I clutched the sides of the tent and tried to sink further back into the dark corner as he wrenched his knife out.
Other men materialized out of the fog now, and Ronan pointed to the temporary camp.
“Take what is valuable. Burn and destroy the rest.”
I wanted to disappear.
What if they found me? Would they recognize me as the woman who had been with Rhyder and kill me on sight?
I smelled fire. Should I make a run for it?
Suddenly, I felt the tent flap pulled back and I met the bright blue eyes of a man with shaggy brown hair.
Fuck. It was Edmund.
“Ooh, hello little one,” he said, stepping closer to me.
“Stay away from me,” I croaked.
My brother was three times the size of this man, and I suddenly realized what it was like to live in the world of the Congregations without Rhyder’s protection.
I didn’t want to do it anymore.
The world was cruel and harsh and I wanted my brother’s protection.
The smell of the fire as the other men burned our Congregation’s tents was sharp and acrid in the air.
“You’re a pretty little thing, too,” he said appreciatively. “And don’t I recognize you?”
He smiled at me, crooked and gleaming, then he put an arm on the tent flap and pulled it back.
“Ronan! I’ve found something I want.”
I heard a low curse, then their Prophet walked in the tent.
Fuck
Up close, he was even taller than I thought, and his face harsher, the splashes of blood only emphasizing the jagged planes of his face.
He looked at me without interest. “Leave her,” he said.
“This is Rhyder’s woman,” Edmund protested. “You know we’re entitled to the spoils of war. Isn’t it my right by the Allfather to take her as my concubine? Serve that asshole right for me to keep her.”
“You already have a godsdamn concubine,” Ronan said abruptly. “You’re not going to have another one. Put her in the back of the truck and let’s see if Rhyder comes looking for her. Besides, you need to be figuring out how their godsdamn machines work.”
Another man poked his head in the tent.
“O Prophet,” he said. “Look. We finally captured one without blowing it to smithereens.”
He was holding up one of the drones with a grin on his face. Edmund flashed me a regretful glance, then he took the drone in his hands.
“Let’s see what makes these little fuckers go. Then we can talk about taking her as my concubine again.”
“Don’t touch her and get the rest of the fucking things,” Ronan ordered, and Edmund complied.
Then he pointed to the back of a truck.
“Get in, wife of Rhyder.”
Sister of Rhyder! I wanted to scream, but I didn’t want to give them any other reason to execute us for depravity.
Then they drove back to their lands, dragging the few men they had captured alive behind the truck with rope.
The full beauty of their paradise opened before me, the long fallow fields, sparkling streams, neatly kept rows of animals.
I heard Ronan make a low noise in his throat as we drove into the settlement and I saw a woman running toward us.
Bright silvery eyes, plump pink lips, extraordinarily beautiful face with a bright smile for us.
The last time I’d seen her she’d been receiving her husband’s insistent pleasure, and I dropped my eyes in confusion.
He hopped out of the truck as soon as it had stopped and gathered her in his arms.
“It’s the woman the Oathbringer brought with him,” he said, indicating me.
His Helpmeet’s smile was warm as she drew me from the back of the truck. “I am Bee and you are safe here.”
“There is room in my home,” Edmund put in again, and Bee hissed in annoyance, waving him away. “She can stay with Aunt Piety.”
Then she took me around the settlement, although my stomach twisted with worry.
What had happened to the incursion? According to our Prophet we should have captured the land by now.
I did not have to wait long.
“Rhyder is at the gates demanding to speak to you,” one of the Congregants told Ronan as Bee sat next to me on a long bench.
“Oh, demanding is he?” Ronan asked dryly. “Fucking asshole, making me send men every godsdamn day to drag away the rocks he’s piled in my river. Bring him in, let’s see what he has to say.”
Rhyder’s eyes sparked fire, flicking rapidly around the clearing until he saw me sitting on a bench with Bee.
“What do you want?” Ronan asked, tipping his chair back and leaning long legs out in front of him. “That part of the border gate not as weak as you were hoping?”
Shit
Rhyder ignored this.
“I am going to take her home with me,” he said, pointing to me. “She is mine and belongs to me.”
“You should take better care of your concubine,” Ronan said, his voice bored, but I noticed his eyes were sharp as he looked at Rhyder. “Not leave her while you get your ass kicked and your men killed elsewhere.”
“She’s not a concubine,” Rhyder said, and I could tell he was very angry but trying to control himself. “She’s going to be my wife.”
“What’s got your shitty little Congregations all fucked up?” Ronan countered. “The peace treaties have stood for a decade. What happened?”
My brother clearly did not want to talk about this, and I could see his arms tensing as he judged the distance to me and if he’d be able to get to me before they hurt me.
“Our Prophet has judged you an Apostate,” he said. “Your immorality shall be wiped from the earth to cleanse it.”
Ronan laughed then, but there was little humor in it.
“Do it, then,” he said. “Wipe me from the face of the earth, Holy Warrior.”
He still had his legs up, and his whole pose was casual and relaxed. But I prayed Rhyder would be careful. There were Congregants all around, weapons within easy reach.
“I want to take Temperance away first,” he said. “That is of primary importance to me.”
“Maybe I’ll just give her to one of my men,” Ronan countered. “And order you torn apart by wild dogs.”
“I demand a Testing,” Rhyder said, and I felt my insides clench to see my brother standing there, fearless, ready to fight for me.
Ronan raised his eyebrows. “What is that?”
“12 minutes in the circle with me. If I win, your people will agree to let Temperance out safely.”
“And if I refuse?” Ronan asked.
My brother flicked his eyes up incredulously. “You cannot refuse. It would be dishonorable.”
“What the fuck do I care about that?” Ronan asked. “I’m an Apostate.”
The Prophet’s hand ran down his thigh and he darted a glance over at his wife.
“However,” he said. “I’ll accept your challenge. Take up a cudgel.”
Shit
How were we going to get out of here once my brother killed Ronan?
I wanted to warn him to be careful. There were warriors all around, strong and able men who could pick up a bow or spear to kill or injure Rhyder after the fight.
But there was no time. Ronan had stretched his long limbs and risen from his chair, instantly clearing the space in the center. Bee had taken my arm and guided me to the outer edge of the circle, as was proper for Helpmeets.
“Don’t be afraid,” she whispered in my ear.
I didn’t think the men of their Congregation would kill me. But there was no way they’d let Rhyder go.
The two men circled each other, and the fight began.
As usual, Rhyder was overpowering, his blows seeming to land with thundering, deadly accuracy.
My brother was in only a T-shirt, enormous shoulders and back, thick trunk legs. Ronan was in a light fleece, watching Rhyder with careful eyes.
This close you could see that although Ronan was bit taller, Rhyder was a better fighter.
A blow toward Ronan’s ribs, only knocked away at the last moment.
Then an elbow to Ronan’s face, landing with a solid strike.
My brother’s back looked slick with sweat.
Was it better to kill or maim Ronan quickly or slowly? What was more dangerous?
I began to worry about what would happen if Rhyder dragged out his death with slow, bloodthirsty violence.
His blows were so powerful that Ronan had barely been able to return them, just concentrating on blocking Rhyder.
Eventually he would get tired. Each time Ronan blocked Rhyder’s attack, it was only at the last second that the Prophet was able to escape, only the tiniest sliver of a second between the block and Rhyder caving his head in.
My whole body felt tensed with fear and agony.
I wanted to scream out to only injure him, not kill him, but of course women were not permitted to speak aloud at any time during Testings.
Their Congregation would hardly let the man go who had killed their Prophet and Rhyder had never been gentle in a fight. His only gentleness was all for me.
His knuckles connected with Ronan’s mouth, and suddenly there was a smear of blood across the Prophet’s face.
“Was he very cruel to you?” Bee whispered, and she touched my arm softly. “Don’t worry, it will be over soon now. I would’ve told him not to drag it out but he’s such a cocky bastard.”
I looked at her, astonished. Why, it was me who should be comforting her! Rhyder was going to kill Ronan.
“He was,” I said. Then I sighed. There was something about my childhood habit of honesty that I found hard to shake.
“But he thought he was helping me,” I added. “Rhyder is my twin brother.”
Bee’s eyes got wide, and suddenly her grip on my arm was so tight it was like the bite of a snake.
“Your brother ?” she hissed. “And do you love him?”
Her frightened eyes darted over at the fight.
“I don’t see why that matters,” I cried in a low voice, trying to pull away.
She gripped my chin with her hand.
“Answer me, Temperance,” she ground out. “Would you be very happy if he died?”
“No,” I whispered, through a parched throat. “I know what he is and I still love him.”
With a low oath, she dropped my arm.
There was a sickening crack from the arena and I looked around, my heart in my throat.
Had Rhyder killed Ronan?
But it was Rhyder who was bent over, clutching his ribs, then staggering sideways.
He recovered quickly.
But something had changed, a subtle, but perceptive shift in the fight.
Suddenly Rhyder wasn’t half a second faster, half a second stronger with each blow.
Ronan was.
It was Rhyder who was half a second slower, his blows not quite landing suddenly, missing entirely as Ronan moved fast. And this time he hit back.
The mood in the Congregation had changed, too.
Instead of calm respectful patience, the air suddenly tasted different.
They wanted blood.
They knew Rhyder was one of the Congregants sending the avenging angels, and they would have zero mercy.
Every move my brother made was just that bit slower, just that off. Ronan’s cudgel suddenly landed on Rhyder’s face, my twin’s head snapping back, and Ronan following it up with a vicious blow on Rhyder’s ribs, and then another, knocking my twin to his knees.
As I watched in horror, Ronan’s face split open in a bloody grin.
“What’s the Allfather telling you now?” he asked.
Ronan was toying with him
Holy fuck
It would make his triumph that much more glorious, his own Congregation that much more worshipful, to do it with blood on his face.
I wanted to scream . I now knew the horrible fucking truth.
I loved Rhyder, loved my obsessive, controlling brother with all my heart.
And now he was going to die.
I wanted to beg Bee for help, but what could she do?
Madness rose up in me, a terror to consume all others now that my brother was going to be killed in front of me. My hands clutched at air. Bee was bent over on the ground, and suddenly she rose. Then, without looking at me, she shoved something in my mouth, ramming it down my throat, something bitter and vile. Her fingers closed over my mouth, forcing me to swallow all of it as I started to struggle.
Then she whipped a knife out and turned her back to me, forcing the knife into my hand, and held it tight to her own throat.
“Help!” she cried in a shrill voice. “Help me!”
The entire clearing was bone-silent except for the low grunts and thick, nauseating blows of the fight, but my blood ran cold when I saw the Prophet turn around.
The look of chill, almost inhuman rage in his eyes as he saw me with the knife at Bee’s throat made my knees knock together and I almost lost control of my bladder.
My mouth was on fire with whatever Bee had forced me to eat, and I felt the strange, sticky white foam dribble out the side of my mouth.
Ronan instantly turned and started striding toward us.
“Demon possession!” Bee cried in her strong, carrying voice, holding me tightly so I couldn’t escape. “Heal her! A prayer, Ronan Demon-rebuker. Pray for her soul and save her.”
He stopped and I saw him turn those dark, slitted eyes over to her.
“ No . No mercy.”
“Stop!” she yelled.
And she took my hand and sliced her throat, my stomach lurching with fear and nausea.
Bright red blood spurted from between my fingers, dripping down Bee’s neck and my arm.
Rhyder stumbled over, still on his knees, and now threw himself between us.
“Do not punish her, Prophet. Kill me instead. It is not her fault.”
Ronan aimed a kick at Rhyder’s ribs, and I cringed as I heard them crack.
“ Out of my way .”
His eyes were still locked on his Helpmeet.
“Mercy,” Bee said, and there was a warning tone in her voice. “Mercy or she might kill me. I mean it.”
“No,” Rhyder cried again, getting up heavily. It looked like he had multiple broken ribs, and something seemed wrong with one of his legs.
There was something new and sharp in Ronan’s eyes again, jagged and dangerous.
“ Why ?” Ronan asked harshly, and I realized he knew now.
“It’s his sister,” Bee said.
“Put that knife down,” he ordered.
Wrenching it away from Bee, I dropped it with a clatter.
“ Pray, ” she said.
Everyone was watching as she dragged me out from behind her, the horrible bitter foam still spilling from my mouth.
The Prophet looked at his Helpmeet, the world hovering on the knife edge of what a hard, cruel man would give his wife, and then he did, raising his arms to the sky.
O Allfather
Hear my prayer
Give me power
I cast out demons in your name
I rebuke them in your name
They have no power here
With the force of my will, my piety, I call them out of this woman
Leave her now!
There was something getting forced into my mouth again, and I began to chew it. It was another leaf, and for a moment I thought nothing was going to happen and Rhyder and I were going to die here.
But then the soothing relief of the plant began to settle on my tongue and I spat on the ground as the foam began to dissolve.
“Demon-rebuker,” his people breathed.
“Forgive her,” Rhyder said, his big arms out in entreaty, “Kill me instead.”
“ Stay back ,” Ronan snapped.
“She would never—” Rhyder cried, looking over at me, his eyes shadowed over and sliced through with pain. “Temperance would never have put a knife to your Helpmeet. It must have been a devil.”
“I’m well aware of that, Holy Warrior,” Ronan said sharply. “Come here, Bee.”
I saw her bite her lip and hesitate a moment, and he held his hand out.
“Do not make me tell you again.”
“Please,” she said, taking a tentative step toward him, and I saw her tighten hands in her skirt. “Please.”
When she had taken two small steps toward him, Ronan grabbed her by the back of the throat and, as the thirsting Congregation stood waiting in a circle behind him, he swiped his finger across Bee’s neck.
I felt dizzy with panic.
A bit of blood sprang to the skin.
“Ronan—” she began.
“ Silence ,” he ordered.
He swiped his finger again and this time no blood sprang free.
“Please,” she repeated.
There was a moment of silence as he looked at her, those pitch-dark eyes boring dark and savage into his Helpmeet’s. Then he turned to the Congregation and picked up a machete leaning against a supply building.
“The one who sent the demon,” he called out, yanking one of the prisoner’s ropes and pitching the man’s body forward.
Ronan raised the machete high and brought it down, severing the man’s head from his neck with a sharp wet thwack .
“And thus ends everyone who dares to stand against our Congregation,” he called out, raising his arms. “Now take his body and let the birds feast on it.”
And the Congregants fell upon the prisoners in a frenzy, bearing them on their shoulders out to the flat plain outside the settlement, tearing the limbs from the dead man’s body even as his heart was still thudding to a stop.
The raw bloodlust terrified me, and then Ronan turned to the three of us.
His mouth was still bloody, the gore splattering his shirt.
“What would you give up to take her out of here safely?” Ronan asked, his fingers still wrapped snugly around his wife’s throat, making sure she stayed with him. I expected there would be more to this between them later. [1]
Without a second of hesitation, Rhyder ripped the Holy Relic from around his neck and threw it down on the ground with such force that it instantly shattered into a thousand shards of broken glass.
My heart hammered with fear, my breath a sob in my chest.
I had never seen my brother without it around his neck.
He fell to his knees on the ground then, baring his neck for the executioner.
“Take my life for hers,” Rhyder said. “I won’t fight you.”
I saw Bee look back at Ronan and something passed between them.
For a moment there was silence, only broken by the sounds of their Congregation ripping ours limb from limb outside in the rolling hills.
“It’s breeding season soon,” Ronan said, looking speculatively up at the bare trees and sleeping ground around us. Soon the buds would come out. Soon new little shoots of life and growth would spring from the ground.
“It is so,” Rhyder agreed.
He was still on his knees, and I felt his big hand wrap around my ankle, just a quick reassuring squeeze. Even when he was about to be killed he was thinking of me.
Ronan wasn’t looking at us, but his eyes scanned the skyline, looking at a distant flock of birds. Then they flicked to where Bee stood before him, his eyes dragging down her body. A muscle didn’t move in his face but there was something in that fixed attention on her.
Then he flicked his eyes back to Rhyder.
“If you renounce your Congregation and seek mercy at this one,” he said, “Temperance could be your wife. Not concubine.”
Rhyder stiffened beside me, and I had to repress a gasp. Ronan’s Congregation did not extend mercy; did not accept outsiders. And Rhyder was not just an outsider, but someone who had fought Holy War against Ronan.
“I am confident my Prophet will extend the rights of a wife to my sister,” Rhyder said after a moment.
“Are you?” asked Ronan.
There was a second of silence, and I knew Rhyder was too loyal to abandon his Prophet, but for a moment I had a foolish hope that we could stay there.
“Yes,” said Rhyder.
“Then get the fuck off my land,” said Ronan. “And tell the leader of your Congregation to stay the fuck away or I’ll bring Holy War to your fucking doorstep.”
He waved to Edmund, and I saw him bring the wagon full of the corpses Ronan and his men had killed in battle.
Rhyder nodded and took both rods of the wagon without complaint and began to drag the heavy unwieldy machine. It was so big, filled with dozens of the slain Congregants, but so great was Rhyder’s strength, that he was able to haul it by himself.
I felt someone beside me and Bee was there, pressing a heavy cloth bag into my hands. From the delicious smells, it seemed like it was full of food.
“Spring breeding season is almost here,” she said to me, but her eyes flicked to Rhyder too and I knew he had heard her.
“Think about it.”
Then she gave me a quick kiss on my cheek. “I hope to see you again,” she said.
“Please join me in the house, Wife,” I heard Ronan say as we left. “I have a few things I would like to say to you.”