Chapter 25 Syrus #2
His soldiers spread out, pursuing the raiders to their ships, but his eyes caught on one who hadn’t run.
A woman, her hair caught back in a long, tight braid, knelt on the ground, a small crate abandoned beside her.
Her back was to him, but he didn’t need to see her face to see why she hadn’t run.
A small puddle of blood had formed around her, and she had her hand clamped over her calf.
A jagged slice in her boot revealed a matching injury beneath, a deep cut that would make running difficult.
It looked like they’d make at least one arrest today, a rarity when it came to raiders.
Sword in hand, he closed on her, already deciding how best to detain her.
He didn’t see the second raider until it was too late.
Only a flicker of some instinct screaming a warning kept him from taking a dagger to the face.
As it was, it scored his arm, biting deeply into the flesh of his biceps as he turned.
The raider who’d thrown it wasn’t one he’d ever seen before.
He stood a few inches taller than Syrus, his eyes an unusually light shade for the Canjiri, as was his hair.
Like the others, he was slender, all lean muscle, but there was a lankiness about him that said he’d only recently started growing into his limbs.
“They’re bringing children on raids now?” he sneered, turning to face this new threat. The woman scrambled to her feet, only to go back down a moment later, a fresh slick of blood running down her leg.
“I’m old enough to know it’s dishonorable to attack someone with their back turned,” the raider shot back. “I shouldn’t be surprised, though. There is no honor in Vaetreas.”
The slight against his country had Syrus standing up straighter, bringing his sword up. “Says the man who came to steal from innocent merchants and traders.”
“Innocent.” The raider snorted his disgust, nose wrinkling. “You truly know nothing if you think any of them are innocent.”
The raider moved faster than Syrus could have anticipated, sweeping his leg out and catching Syrus’ knees, sending him to the ground before he could even think to react.
He kept his sword in hand, but only just. The raider glanced at the injured woman and murmured something in Canjiri.
She nodded, cautiously getting to her feet and managing to stay upright this time.
Whatever she said in response, it was clearly gratitude, then she turned and limped for the boats, leaving Syrus alone with the raider.
“Stand up and fight.” The raider arched an eyebrow in challenge, his eyes locked on Syrus. “Unless you are afraid to face me?”
“There’s no honor in fighting a child.” Syrus got to his feet anyway, hoping none of his troops had seen him get taken down so easily by this young raider.
“I assure you I’m not a child, and you know nothing of honor.”
His first strike met the Canjiri’s curved blade in a clash of metal.
Syrus knew he was stronger than the younger man, and the raider clearly knew it, too.
Rather than attempt to push Syrus back, he spun to the side, forcing Syrus to stumble forward a step to catch himself.
He got his weapon back up in time to block the raider’s blow, bracing himself and pushing out.
The other man fell back several steps but didn’t go down.
A wiser man would have run, but instead the young raider’s eyes lit up with an anticipation that matched Syrus’ own, the thrill of fighting a worthy opponent.
Neither of them knew it at the time, but it was the first battle of a war that would span over a decade.
“Syrus, please fight.”
Eiri’s voice again. A memory? Another dream?
The words whispered past his ear and he felt a cool hand on his forehead.
Where it touched him, the fire destroying him from the inside out receded.
Something pulled within him, the tide gentle but inexorable, waves of something that tugged at the poison coursing through his veins.
Another flash of memory.
He was thirty-five years old and had been married for two days.
For the first time in his life, he’d slept on the floor of his own bedroom, allowing Eiri to sleep on the massive bed alone.
It was necessary, if he wanted to get Eiri to trust him, to let down his guard so Syrus could start molding him into a proper Vaetrean.
His years as a soldier meant he was no stranger to uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, but it still rankled that he should live like this in his own quarters.
The rumble of thunder woke him from his slumber. He’d learned to lay still even after waking up, taking in his surroundings before opening his eyes. The room was quiet, but instinctively he knew Eiri was awake. He could feel the other man’s presence, like lightning crackling over his skin.
He cautiously opened his eyes and immediately spotted Eiri across the room in what seemed to be his favorite spot, perched on the sill of the broad window that overlooked the woods to the east of Lodie Palace.
Usually, Eiri had the same odd sense of Syrus and always seemed to know the instant Syrus awoke, but today, something else fully captured his attention.
A flash of lightning illuminated the dark room, and the look on Eiri’s face sent an odd pang through Syrus’ chest. The younger man stared out the window at the storm-battered trees with a look he could only describe as wonder.
It made no sense to Syrus. Storms rolled through Canjir just as often as they hit the continent, as far as he knew.
Why would Eiri be so enraptured by something he’d seen before?
The moment lingered, a rare moment of peace, until the pattering of rain lulled Syrus back to sleep.
The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was Eiri’s face lit up by another flicker of lightning, completely unguarded for the first time since they’d known each other.
An odd protectiveness clenched around Syrus’ heart at the gentle look, but sleep took him before he could examine that strange feeling.
By morning, the moment was forgotten.
“Come back to me, Syrus. Please.” The hand stroked down his cheek, coming to rest there. “Please don’t leave me.”