Chapter 15
Seren
The heady flush of wine settled my queasy stomach and quieted the noise in my head, and I leaned back on the blanket, resting against Ciaran as I took in the sparkle of the stars. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of woodsmoke and the promise of frost.
“I used to love feasts so much,” I murmured, catching Amahle’s watchful glance across from me.
Ciaran set a steadying hand at my waist. “You’ll love them again someday. The last month has been a lot for your family.”
Yeah, that’s putting it mildly. Another day had passed with no word from Madoc or my father—one of the reasons I’d gratefully accepted wine tonight.
“You two are looking awfully cozy,” Amahle noted, sipping her wine. “Considering one of you is a newlywed … to someone else.” She arched a brow.
I rolled my eyes and scooted a smidge away from Ciaran, taking another swig from the bottle we’d been sharing. “So now I can’t have friends, either?”
“Calm down. You’re not offending me. I’m just saying you might want to tone it down.”
The redness in Ciaran’s face was visible in the yellow glow from the oil lamps set in the center of our blankets. “You don’t really consider that Lirien your husband, do you?” He rubbed the back of his neck stiffly.
“He has a name, you know.” Then I lowered my voice. “But no, I don’t. I didn’t know how else to save him, that’s all.”
Some of the tension in Ciaran’s shoulders eased.
I chewed on my lower lip. Rykr had mentioned that Ciaran had feelings for me.
If I was honest, I’d noticed it over the years, but always brushed those thoughts away.
Ciaran was a good friend, but I’d never seen him as anything more, even if I enjoyed the closeness of our friendship.
He filled most of the need I had for male companionship—though maybe not the one that made me the crankiest.
“You Pendarans have some interesting beliefs,” Amahle said. “Like that whole life debt thing.”
I sighed, taking another sip of wine. “It’s not just a belief, it’s a curse—a real one. A life debt is always paid with a life. That’s why I didn’t have a choice with Rykr.”
At Ciaran and Amahle’s questioning gazes, I continued, “It’s based on an old legend.
A man prayed to the goddess of war, Morrga, to save him when he was about to be killed.
She granted his wish by sending a soldier to slay his enemy.
But when the soldier asked for the man’s most beloved daughter as a reward, the man, furious, killed the soldier.
So Morrga cursed humankind, saying, the debt of a life is always paid with a life.
She struck the man dead and condemned his soul to be damned in Nyxva’s deepest pit for eternity. ”
Amahle squinted. “And what does that mean for you?”
“That means that Pendarans believe that if someone saves your life, you owe them a life debt. I couldn’t kill Rykr the way the Viori law dictates because he saved me from the vuk. And letting him die when I could save him could also damn my soul. So, I saved him.”
“Or maybe you spent too much time reading myths that made you superstitious.” Amahle ran her fingers through her curls. “Though clearly something happened when you made that blood oath.”
“Yes, but that was Ibarran spellcraft. They mix magic from all the realms.” Ciaran’s voice carried bitterness.
“I still think you should have let him die. It wasn’t your fault he was dying—the vuk did that, not you.
Rykr stalks around here with an attitude of superiority that makes me want to stab him myself. ”
“Is that why you want to stab him?” Amahle shot back with a smirk.
I didn’t want to go down that path. Sighing, I reached for an apple tart and took a bite. “Whether I should or shouldn’t have is irrelevant. I didn’t have time to ask for opinions and made the best choice I could. And now I need to find a way to undo it. Otherwise, I’m stuck with this bond to him.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I like him. He pissed Seth off and held his own at the council meeting and that’s not nothing.” Amahle leaned back on her hands. “If it wasn’t for the damned Skorn trial, I’d say this is one of the cleverest tricks you’ve pulled.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Ciaran muttered, staring gloomily into his mead. “Seth has blood in his eyes. If it wasn’t for Darya, I think he would have done more to push the Ragnalls out of the tribe.”
“I don’t trust that bitch.” Amahle frowned. “She’s the one who stole Seth away from Seren in the first place.”
I hid a smile. Amahle’s loyalty, as always, was unwavering. “Much as I wanted to blame her for that, I can’t. And really, she did me a favor. I don’t have a lot of regrets, but Seth is one of them.”
“She did you a favor at the council meeting, too,” Ciaran said.
“My father was talking about it last night. The council wasn’t going to interfere with Seth due to the seriousness of the law you broke, Seren.
Darya probably knew that, and she still spoke up on your behalf.
She may be more of an ally than you think. ”
“She’s Seth’s wife. She can get away—” Amahle trailed off as Alessia Bernardi approached our blanket.
“Have any of you seen Giulia? I’ve been looking for her all evening, but I haven’t found her.”
I exchanged a glance with Ciaran. I had seen Giulia but saying so risked the trust she’d placed in me when she’d lent me those books. Fortunately, Ciaran shook his head and said, “No. I saw her earlier, at the market, but not since then.”
Alessia frowned. “If you see her, let her know I retired for the evening.” She set her eyes on me. “Where’s that husband of yours tonight, Seren?”
“He was in too much pain to come,” I said, rolling my shoulders back. “Still recovering from the flogging.” Hopefully that would be an acceptable excuse—the whole tribe had seen him lashed.
She frowned, then glanced at Ciaran. “Maybe we’ll see him tomorrow. Goodnight, then.”
She wandered off to the next closest blanket. We’d set up farther out in the field for privacy, choosing the outskirts of the feast.
“Poor Giulia. Her mother watches her like a hawk,” Amahle said with a laugh. “She’s probably off in the woods somewhere, rutting around with Timor Ladette.”
“Do you blame her? Giulia is all she has,” Ciaran remarked dryly.
He was right. Giulia was her only daughter. Alessia’s husband had been killed over a decade ago, during a raid in Lirien. She had no other family.
“Maybe so, but she holds the reins so tightly that Guilia’s always sneaking off just to get a good lay,” Amahle said, then stretched. “Speaking of which, it’s a feast tonight and I’m not spending it with my newly wedded best friend and the one man in the Vangar who might still be a virgin.”
Ciaran shoved her, and I laughed. He didn’t even have to reach—his arms were that long.
Wow, it feels good to actually laugh with my friends.
Even though I’d been morose at the start of the evening, they’d calmed me enough to even enjoy myself. Forget the troubles awaiting in my tent—and elsewhere. I’d been doing a fair job of ignoring the fact that I needed to prepare for the Skorn.
But the thought of Rykr made my stomach twist. He must be hungry. He hadn’t eaten much during the market. Despite our rocky interactions, the least I could do was bring him food.
I hated him for making things so complicated. And yet, as I thought about him alone in that tent, or the way he’d taken lashes meant for me, my confusion toward him only grew.
The extra food on the blanket went into my pack. After helping Ciaran and me pick up, Amahle left in search of company for the night and I regretted seeing her go.
Ciaran watched as she disappeared into the merry crowd. “I’m not a virgin, you know,” he said in a low voice.
He still wasn’t looking at me. I bit down on the fleshy part inside my lower lip. “I never said you were.”
“I just didn’t want you to think—”
“It’s fine, Ciaran.” Truthfully, I didn’t spend much time thinking about Ciaran’s sex life, but I wasn’t about to point that out.
My relationship with Seth had always bothered him, and he’d been relieved when Seth had married Darya.
Not that he’d said as much. He’d comforted me, but we rarely talked about relationships or sex and even then, only vaguely.
“I just wanted you to know,” he said flatly.
I cleared my throat and took his hand. “You know I love you, Ciaran. I would never think less of you for something so trivial, even if it were true.”
He squeezed my hand, his eyes warming. “I’ll walk you back.”
I settled my pack on my shoulder. Much as I wanted to stroll with Ciaran and pretend I didn’t have to return to the thorn in my side, Amahle’s warning about watching eyes came back to me.
“It’s okay. A walk alone will help me clear my head.”
Ciaran’s expression was guarded. “Just be careful. Seth was threatening you yesterday, and if he felt that emboldened, it’s because he has the allies to back him.”
Seth’s threats were the least of my concerns right now.
“About Rykr …”
I nearly groaned, then quirked a brow.
Ciaran shifted, uncomfortably. “When I was putting the irons on him, I noticed he doesn’t have a Bloodbinding mark.”
My brow furrowed. “What … what do you mean?”
“On his left wrist. It’s not there. I’ve seen the ones your parents and any other Bound Liriens have. Just thought you should know.”
I crossed my arms, feeling strangely defensive. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t know, Seren. But something about Rykr doesn’t add up. A Sealed, Bound Pendaran should have a Bloodbinding mark. It’s strange. I don’t know what it means, but you of all people should be aware of it.”
I hated that he was right.
No Bloodbinding mark. How had I missed something so obvious? Every Pendaran bore the mark. Rykr kept his secrets close … but this? How was it even possible? The thought unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.
Nodding, I stepped toward Ciaran. “Thank you for telling me. Please don’t say anything to anyone else. I can’t afford any more eyes on me right now.”