Chapter 43
43
Roark
I caught Lyra riffling through the pile of our discarded clothes before the sun rose. Mists of gray morning cast her bare skin in soft light. She was stunning and I could not look away. I knocked my knuckles against the post of my bed, halting her movements.
Hair draped wild over her brow, shielding the pretty flush to her cheeks.
What are you doing?
Lyra hugged her discarded dress to her breasts and tucked a lock of her hair behind one ear. “Protecting your upstanding reputation.”
I snorted. Let talk spread if it brings you back to my bed .
Lyra let her dress fall back to the floor. She crept over the furs and quilts, leveraging her naked thighs in a straddle over my hips. On instinct, my palms went to her waist, as though not touching her would bring physical pain.
Do you hurt at all?
She grinned. “A little. Very worth it, though.”
I curled the end of her hair around one finger and spoke with the other hand. You planned to leave without a word?
Lyra’s smile faded. “You were injured in battle. I wanted you to rest.”
I slept better than I have in seasons. Rest can wait.
“This won’t be accepted, Roark. You know it. Damir will consider it a distraction from your protection of the prince, and my duty as his melder.”
A king’s word will not stop me wanting you .
Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip, the corners tilted in a small grin. “Treasonous talk, Sentry Ashwood.”
I kissed her, my fingers tangled in the hair at the base of her head. A dozen words I wanted to whisper against her lips danced in my mind—she brightened my heart, my damn soul. I wanted her to know now that I’d had her taste, no one would satisfy but her. Her touch was still burned on me like it had burrowed into my skin and would never leave.
I didn’t want it to.
“I truly must go,” Lyra whispered against my mouth. “But I truly want to stay.”
It was a cruel reality. We had our duties, and I had strayed from my purpose here. There’d be no returning. From the moment I met the fiery gaze of Lyra in the jarl’s house, what I thought I knew of my life, of my existence, had unraveled.
One thread at a time.
After Lyra left, escorted by a young Stav to the palace, I managed to slip on a clean tunic by the time a heavy-handed knock pounded on my door with a summons to the great hall.
A smaller crowd had gathered than expected. The prince without his bride. Edvin, his hands on the shoulders of a small mousy boy. I did not know why the bone crafter was in the hall; he mattered little to the king.
Damir and Ingir were both seated on the dais, and Hundur had taken his place, but Yrsa’s mother was absent.
The Myrdan king kept rubbing his melded claws, a feral gleam in his gaze. Baldur stood in the center of the hall, reporting on his unit’s actions last night. Tension was palpable and sour on the tongue.
No one knew who’d welcomed the ravagers into our gates. I felt the same, but for reasons different from the king’s. He wanted his posterity and power protected. For me, I wanted to pluck out the bones of the traitor for the risk they put on Lyra’s head.
“Good morning. Enjoyable evening?” Emi’s voice came from behind.
I spun around. Emi and Darkwin, two wraiths in the corner, stood side by side. Both were pressed and clad in their Stav uniforms. Kael in his black tunic with the white wolf head, Emi in a crimson cloak she’d worn in Skalfirth.
My cousin wore a cunning sort of grin. Kael appeared to be made of stone; only his shadowed gaze followed me.
I settled next to Emi, unnoticed for a moment. Were you injured?
“Darkwin made it out with shallow cuts, but I nearly met Salur. It is good bone tonics favor crafter blood and worked swiftly.”
Damn the gods. I was an ass. While she’d suffered last night, I’d hardly had a fear for her. I’d tangled myself up, thought of my wants, my heart, of Lyra, and no one else. You are well?
Emi smiled softly. “I’m all right.” My cousin looked me up and down, settling her attention to the side of my neck. “And you? You seemed to have had an…enjoyable night after ravagers were chased away.”
Darkwin faced forward, the muscles in his neck pulsed.
The night was fine . I schooled my expression into something flat.
Emi clicked her tongue. “Disappointing. Sounds utterly adequate and dull. I expected more.”
I pierced my cousin in a cutting glare, then faced the dais as Baldur stepped aside for Edvin and his son.
“Darkwin.” King Damir waved his fingers, summoning Kael forward. “I understand you were in the market.”
Kael dipped his chin. “A few scattered ravagers managed to slip past the line. They were set on breaching the palace. My fellow Stav, myself, and Mikkal Jakobson caught them.”
“Yes. I heard the Jakobson heir was wounded.” Damir rubbed his chin and looked to Edvin’s son. “And you, boy. You are here since I understand you were present when my Berserkir was slaughtered.”
With a gentle nudge, Edvin urged his boy forward. Next to Damir, the child looked thin and fragile. “There were monsters.”
“Boy’s first encounter with a true warrior.” Damir chuckled and bent forward. “Sometimes, while in the throes of battle, a warrior may seem monstrous.”
“He went for Súlka Bien and the other monster helped save her.”
King Damir looked to Edvin for clarification.
“My son believes he saw the Draven assassin who leads the ravagers, sire.”
“Skul Drek. The wraith of Dravenmoor.” Damir’s movements were stiff as he descended the steps of the dais. “And why, exactly, was my melder near a Draven assassin?”
“Bad seed, that one,” King Hundur grumbled. “Talented, but bad seed, Damir.”
I curled a fist around the hilt of my blade.
“Easy, cousin.” Emi spoke from the corner of her mouth. “No need to have everyone question your loyalties.”
“You consider my melder your kin, Darkwin.” The king clasped his hands behind his back and squared his shoulders to Kael. “What do you know of it?”
“I spoke with Lyra in the healer’s wing,” Kael said. “She was unharmed, but from what I understand, Berserkir Ake had succumbed to the berserksgangur. However, instead of the strength of his melded bones guiding him toward ravagers, the bloodlust was aimed at the boy and the melder.”
The king hummed, a cruel sneer on his mouth. “And why was my melder beyond the palace gates?”
Kael hesitated. “She admitted it was foolish. The Sentry saw her safely in her chamber, but she left shortly after. She told me the thought of…those she cared for being at risk spurred her to act, my king.”
King Damir huffed. “Foolish indeed. What do you know of her interactions with the assassin?”
“Marvel that she came out alive,” Queen Ingir muttered with a touch of disappointment.
Perhaps the queen lived for a good tale; perhaps she despised soul bones as much as the ravagers.
“I do not know much, sire,” Kael said. “From what young Krisjan has said, it seems the Berserkir was entangled with the assassin, and both the boy and melder used it as an opportunity to escape.”
“Father.” Thane stepped beside Kael. He walked with a limp, but no visible wounds were on his skin. “This is not a council to question the melder’s motives. Every soul she values was fighting, and she believed she could protect them. Simple as that. What we ought to be asking is, Who betrayed us and opened the gates for ravagers?”
“The Berserkir no longer had the melded bone,” said Hundur. “You think such a thing could be done by anyone but a melder? She is not to be trusted.”
Emi’s touch was the only hint that I’d shifted at all. One step had been taken toward the dais. Gods, what was I planning to do? Attack a king?
“Keep your head,” Emi said through her teeth.
“You are still angry over your dead seneschal’s son, Hundur,” Thane shot back to the Myrdan king. “But if we’re going to continue leveling accusations, all right, let us make accusations. Strange how the gates opened after your arrival. Could it be you are displeased with your daughter’s betrothal?”
“Enough.” Damir held up a hand, stalling the arguments. “Myrda and Jorvandal will be united as bonded allies sooner rather than later. By tomorrow’s moon you will wed the princess, Thane.”
Thane shifted, uneasy, but gave a nod.
“But”—Damir’s lip curled into something vicious—“to see the ceremony safely concluded, I am instating mandatory rank melding come morning. Every Stav.”
My blood went cold. Baldur’s eyes gleamed with delight, but Emi shrunk back.
King Damir lifted his gaze to me. “Including you, Sentry.”
“Father. Ashwood answers to me.”
“And you answer to me!” King Damir roared. “If he serves Jorvandal, then he serves me. My Stav Guard will be melded with every last soul bone. We will show the Dravens what becomes of fierce warriors when they are made fiercer. We will take the power of the gods until the ravines of Dravenmoor run with blood.”
“You plan to empty your stores of soul bones?” Ingir said, a quiver to her voice.
Damir looked back at her. “All of our forages will be melded before the vows. Not a single Stav Guard will go without.”
“That could kill Lyra,” Thane shouted. “One meld nearly brings her to her knees.”
“Then I will see to it she is well rested.” Damir plucked a horn of honey ale off the table and sloppily drank before tossing it aside with a clatter.
“You believe her to be this strong?” Ingir asked.
“She has abilities not even Fadey could match.”
The queen rubbed a green pearl in one of her rings. “Well, I stand by your choice, husband. The gods have provided us with a way to restore the kingdoms to what they once were.”
With open arms, Damir spun around. “Blessings of the gods must truly be upon us, my wife and I see eye to eye.”
Chuckles filtered through the hall. I heard nothing but the blood pounding in my skull.
The stores of soul bones were kept under guard, and not even I knew how many had been gathered over the years. Lyra wouldn’t survive it. Craft would devour her, and every Stav, every good soul I knew, would be corrupted.
“Now, on the matter of who unlocked our gates,” Damir went on. “Captain Baldur, you will investigate. Begin with any who might have a distaste for my son’s upcoming vows or our new melder.”
Baldur pressed a fist to the wolf emblem on his tunic.
“I will need the melder under vigilant watch.” The king snapped at Kael, “Darkwin, an obvious choice as her brother, you will assist the Sentry in ensuring the woman is never alone. I don’t care if you stand watch as she takes a piss, you are there.”
The same as Baldur, Kael pounded his chest. We’d gotten on fine enough, me and Darkwin, but when he returned to my side, he said nothing. He did not even look my way.
When the king dismissed us, the three of us followed Thane. The prince asked Emi to be the one to inform his bride of the change to their vows, no one the wiser of his ulterior reasons. In truth, he was offering a final evening between two hearts before life changed for good.
Thane was a greater man than me. His selflessness held no bounds, he sacrificed for others, and did what was best for the kingdom.
I would burn the whole of this land to keep one heart beating.
“Sentry Ashwood.” Kael kept his gaze trained on the floor. “A word.”
There wasn’t time. I needed to see to Lyra. I needed to find a way to keep her from the damn soul bones. No time, but I had the dignity to look the man in the eye.
Thane gestured he would return to the hall. Hopefully he’d be bold like his namesake and kill his father before the power-mad king killed Lyra.
Kael kept one hand on the hilt of his blade. “I need to know that Lyra is not a conquest to you. I live in the Stav Wing. I know what it is like.”
Gods. I had no time for his misplaced speeches about Lyra’s honor. A cruel sort of grin split my mouth. Kael understood some of my hand speak, but not enough. I pulled out a strip of parchment and wrote my reply.
Lyra is the one who lives through this. That is my only conquest. Keeping her alive.
When he looked at me again, his eyes were less hardened. “Do that, Ashwood,” he said in a grit-rough rasp. “And there will be no troubles between us.”
I could respect the man for his defensiveness toward Lyra. It would be needed now.
We took the staircase to the upper floors in silence that danced across the skin in a discomfiting tension.
Emi waited for us there, twisting her fingers nervously.
You should go to Yrsa , I gestured quickly.
“I will. But first, how do you plan to keep her from the bones?”
I shook my head. I’d think of something. There was no choice.
“What are you talking about?” Kael’s face tightened again.
Emi glanced at me. I waved my hand, a lazy gesture to give her freedom to speak what she wished.
“You heard Thane. Lyra will not survive melding so many bones, Kael.”
“But King Damir—”
“Is obsessed with power.” Emi kept our pace of two stairs at a time. “He grows in might and viciousness the more bones he uses. This attack was an insult on his fortress, so he will prove his strength without considering what will happen to Lyra when he does.”
I gestured wildly. Soul bones always fuel the Dravens to act. They will come against Stonegate with their Dark Watch. Not only ravagers .
“Why?” Kael quickened his steps to meet my pace. “Do they want to use the bones for their armies, like Damir?”
I shook my head. Lyra knew the king was searching for the Wanderer’s bones. Lyra had only just learned the truth, but I had known it all my life.
The soul of the man who once commanded all craft was the prize of Jorvandal, and always had been, since Damir’s grandfather melded his father’s bone to his chest. It’d be wise to give up the truth to Darkwin. The more he knew of the risks, the more his own devotion for Lyra’s safety would take hold.
I glanced at Emi. Tell him .
She gave a swift explanation of foraging the burial grounds of the Wanderer’s armies. Fallen crafters of old. But Kael came to a halt when she told the rest.
“The Wanderer was…real?”
Emi shook her hands, as though sloughing off a swell of nerves. “We believe he was. Damir wants to meld the soul of the Wanderer to his own, but the bones are scattered. Soul bones don’t merely strengthen a body, Kael, they bring a soul damn close to immortality. But they can also corrupt. That was why Ake could not escape the lust for death. He was a vicious man before, and his bones made him crueler.”
“I don’t feel a great change after taking the soul bone.”
“You just nearly threatened the Sentry,” Emi said, grinning. “The man I met during frost trainings would not have dared meet Roark’s gaze out of turn.”
“So I’m damned to become a brute?”
“No.” Emi snickered softly. “I truly think that came from your love for Lyra. You would’ve been much crueler if the bone in your chest was one wrapped in darkness. Roark chose it carefully.”
“You’re plotting against the king.” Kael raked his fingers through his hair. “Aren’t you?”
What did I say? Damn them all if they threaten her , I told him without looking away.
“Lyra will not survive, Kael,” Emi said. “But more than that, if Damir uses so many soul bones, Dravenmoor will be ready for war as much as Stonegate.”
“Godsdammit. Then what do we do?” Kael finally asked the question for which I had no answer.
I shook my head and rounded the corner to the corridor that would lead to Lyra’s chamber.
There was a frenzy in my blood, something desperate and chaotic. I’d been controlled and collected most of my life. Now I could scarcely form a thought beyond finding some way to get Lyra free of these walls.
Free of it all.
Emi went on in a tone laced with bitterness. “Someone let the ravagers in, and I would gamble on my life that it was for Lyra more than disrupting the vows.”
“Then enemies are already here,” Kael insisted.
“Closer than you think,” another voice answered. Yrsa stepped from one of the alcove windows, head shrouded in a dark cloak.
Emi rushed to her side and took her hand. “I was coming for you. They’ve…your father and Damir have moved your vows to tomorrow.”
Yrsa dropped her gaze to their entangled hands. “My mother told me it was a possibility.”
I knew this night was trying for them, for Thane, for most in Stonegate, but I could not waste time.
I pounded a fist against the wall, drawing the princess’s attention. What have you learned?
The princess knew of our familial bond. She cared for Emi and in turn, during the lonely months spent in her own kingdom, she’d practiced enough she was nearly fluent in my hand speak.
“I’m not certain. Just talk of enemies in the gates,” Yrsa said, voice low. She took hold of my hand. “We ought to be wary, the lot of us.”
When she stepped back, the princess returned my glare with a gentle smile.
Darkwin and Emi insisted the princess return to the protection of her guards. I turned and unraveled the crushed strip of parchment Yrsa had deftly placed in my hand.
I read the name she’d written in the center. A name of whom she believed to be responsible for opening the gates. It was an accusation she would not want to make openly, but knew if she told me, the Death Bringer would make good on such a reputation.
My blood burned in my veins. Darker edges of my soul sliced to the surface like jagged bits of stone. I was going to do horrid things.
Vicious things.
I could hardly stand the wait.