Sacrati

Chapter Twenty-Four

Finnvid’s skin crawled as he stood in line with his family and they greeted friends and relatives in the Great Hall.

No traces of blood left, not there or in the entry, and yet Finnvid was sure he could still smell it.

Would he ever again be in the room and not be reminded of the carnage and his own guilt?

But he made himself smile, and he ate and drank and after dinner, he danced with some of the eligible daughters paraded by him.

It felt like different worlds were brushing far too near to each other. He wondered whether the sounds of their music and laughter reached Theos in the basement. Did Theos know the fate of the other Sacrati? What was he thinking? Did he feel abandoned and alone?

Finnvid had no answers, and as the questions kept piling up in his mind, he found it more and more difficult to keep his attention on the small talk and dance steps.

How was he supposed to care about any of this with so many more important things going on?

How was Alrik able to smile and chat when he was responsible for an entire valley, and when he’d given the order to have men killed just days before?

It was getting hard to breathe. The air felt too warm, too moist, as if it had been inside of everyone’s lungs already, breathed in and out of this entire incestuous mass of sycophants, all of them playing games when they should be fighting for people’s lives.

The faces before him seemed unfamiliar, and he fought to control himself.

He heard someone say his name and spun one direction, then another, not knowing who had spoken, or why.

And then a firm hand clapped onto his forearm and he looked down to see a familiar, totally human face.

Short and plump and redheaded, with bright blue eyes that danced at the slightest provocation. “Gaiera,” he whispered.

“I’m feeling faint, my lord. Will you walk me outside?”

“It’s winter . . .”

“Just into the entry hall, then—” She stopped when he jerked his arm away, and turned to peer at him more closely.

Gaiera had always been friendly, and now she seemed truly concerned.

It made him want to cry. “The library, perhaps?” She reached out her hand again, and he managed to crook his elbow and make a somewhat respectable show of escorting her out of the Great Hall.

They walked down the side corridor in silence, and when they paused in front of the library doors, a servant stepped from a nearby alcove and pulled the doors open for them. As if they didn’t have hands of their own.

Finnvid didn’t object. The lamps in the room were turned down low, yet Gaiera waved the servant away and didn’t bother to adjust the lamps herself.

Instead, she slipped her fingers from his forearm to his hand and tugged him gently toward the leather chairs by the fire.

“You’ve had a rough time lately,” she said as she guided him into a seat.

“You looked like you needed a break. I hope you don’t mind my interference. ”

“You rescued me,” he confessed, letting his eyes close as he leaned back into the upholstery. “How long do you think we have until they come looking for us?”

“I think we have as long as we want,” she said, and as the meaning of the words became clear he opened his eyes to stare at her.

She nodded. “They want us to marry. If you’re absolutely against the idea, I should go back soon so my reputation won’t be spoiled.

But if you’re willing to consider it— Well, no.

If you’re willing to commit to it, they won’t disturb us. ”

“How do you know this?”

“Our mothers have been at work.”

“I only got home a few days ago!”

“They’ve been contemplating it for a while, as I understand.

But something happened since your return, I think, to make your mother keen to move things along.

” Gaiera’s eyes were too bright, making him feel like she saw too much.

“We’ve always been friends, Finnvid. If you don’t want to tell me what’s going on, I won’t make a fuss, but I will go back to the Great Hall.

I won’t marry a man who won’t share things with me. ”

He closed his eyes again, fighting for control as questions began to rise and take over his mind.

They had always been friendly. Yet never friends, really.

That wouldn’t have been proper. He might have been friends with a girl who was completely unmarriable, but Gaiera was no such thing.

Her father was a loyal supporter of Finnvid’s family and a member of the King’s Council, and her mother was a member of the royal family from two valleys over.

Gaiera was so suitable she’d been considered as a candidate to become Alrik’s wife and produce heirs to the throne.

“My mother is worried about me,” he allowed. It wasn’t safe to tell her much more. He opened his eyes. “Why did you and Alrik not marry?”

Her grin made it clear that she wasn’t grieving the lost connection. And he could imagine seeing that grin more often, maybe every day. For the rest of his life? Yes, if she smiled like that, maybe he could stand it.

“I believe they decided it would be better to have someone more pliable in the role,” she said.

“Are you unpliable?”

“Horribly so, yes.”

“Well, now I’m intrigued.” Could he do this? It would certainly calm his mother down if he became engaged. “Was there a specific incident that earned you the label, or was it an ongoing situation?”

“Ongoing.” Another smile, this one more thoughtful.

Then she leaned forward as if she had made up her mind to speak.

“But after that . . . after they decided to look elsewhere for a bride . . . there was a specific incident. Hushed up, of course, but I believe it may be why our mothers are eager to see me married. And I wonder if it may be similar to the reason they’d like to see you married. ”

Had she been captured and enslaved by Torians, only to find herself falling in love with one of them and having passionate near-sex in a forest during a blizzard? He was tempted to ask the question out loud. “How do you mean?” he said instead, and he was proud of his control.

“I . . . formed an unsuitable attachment,” she said carefully.

He supposed that was similar to his mother’s reasons for wanting him married. Good to discover that he hadn’t put her mind totally at ease yet. “With a commoner?” he asked politely.

“No. Well, yes, she—” Gaiera broke off, then raised her chin and stared him down.

“She was a commoner, yes, but I don’t believe that was their chief objection.

And when I protested at their sending her away, and announced my intention to seek similar companionship in the future .

. . I believe they decided it was best I was married as soon as possible. ”

He shouldn’t be surprised, not after months in Windthorn, knowing how their women carried on.

But here, in Elkat? Unheard-of, but he was clear proof that unheard-of attractions were possible, even in the best of families.

It was also possible that this was a trap.

If he confessed to his own weakness, would she report back to his mother?

He stood somewhat abruptly. “I think we should return to the Great Hall,” he said. “I don’t think it’s been too long yet.”

The emotions chased across her face. Anger, fear, disappointment, pride . . . and hurt. No one was a good enough liar to put on such a performance. He stretched a hand down to her, and waited while she stared at him cautiously before lifting her own hand and placing it lightly on his.

“We have always been friendly,” he said.

“And during my time in Windthorn I came to realize that there are more ways to feel and express love than we contemplate here in Elkat. But . . . if I am to marry, I would like to marry someone who wants me, and loves me. Not someone who thinks I will be a convenient curtain behind which she may carry on as she likes.”

“You, a prince of Elkat, believe you will be allowed to marry for love?” She sounded amazed, but not scornful.

“I expect not. But I believe there are still vows to be made before one is married, and I believe myself capable of refusing to make them.” He shrugged. “If I find myself unable to refrain, I will certainly seek you out.”

She stood gracefully without putting any extra weight on his hand, and nodded. “I wish you luck, Prince Finnvid.”

“And I you.” He led her back to the Great Hall and saw his mother frown at their quick reentry. He turned to Gaiera then, facing away from the crowd, and said, “While I may not be interested in marriage at this time, it might be useful for both of us if we appeared to be contemplating it?”

“Are you asking permission to court me?”

“To a certain point, yes. If that would be agreeable to you.”

She smiled up at him. “It would be lovely,” she said with a charming curtsy. “And very convenient. I wonder how long we can put them off for that way?”

“As long as possible.” He saw movement in a group of older women and whirled so his back was toward them.

“They’re coming over,” he said, and almost cackled when he saw the expression on her face; it matched his own dread so completely, and it felt good to have an ally.

“Do you think it would be too scandalous if we ducked out again?”

“I think it would be the perfect degree of scandalous,” she said, already moving toward the nearest doorway.

He followed her, both of them holding hands and laughing like naughty children. The weight of everything would return, of course, but for that one moment, he felt light. They practically skipped along the hallway toward the kitchen: kindred spirits bonded by general disapproval.

And that was when the Sacrati appeared. Not Theos, but Andros.

Andros, wearing a rough Elkati cloak, the hood up over his head with snow still on it.

And there was someone with him. Someone smaller.

They both spun, perhaps because they heard the small noise of surprise that rose from Finnvid’s throat, and they both stared.

Andros and Gunnald. The fugitive Sacrati and the loyal Elkat soldier, together.

And stealing toward the door to the cellars.

All three of them stared, frozen in place. Gaiera was the only one who moved, staring first at Finnvid, then at the others, then back at Finnvid.

He forced himself to act, nodding to the men and then turning to Gaiera, trying to seem normal despite the queasy apprehension roiling his stomach. “Maybe we should go back to the library.”

She didn’t argue. But as they started walking she hissed, “What’s going on?”

Finnvid froze again, then looked at Gunnald rather than Andros. “They’re protecting Elkati honor,” he said, ostensibly to her yet loud enough to be sure Gunnald would hear.

The old soldier nodded, just once, and then prodded Andros into motion.

They disappeared down the stairs and Finnvid spun away, hoping desperately that they had a plan for disabling the guards rather than killing them.

Theos needed to be rescued, and Finnvid would accept responsibility for whatever the outcome was; still, he didn’t want any more blood on his hands.

He briefly contemplated going down the stairs and ordering the men to surrender Theos, but it was already too late. Andros was Sacrati, and that meant he was quick and thorough. By the time Finnvid caught up, any damage would have been done.

“So we didn’t see any of that?” Gaiera said. She sounded willing to follow Finnvid’s lead.

That was the end of it. At least, it should have been the end.

Gaiera would cover for Finnvid while Theos and Andros escaped.

The Sacrati would return to Windthorn, and Finnvid would go back to his old life in Elkat, without the dreadful tension of worrying about Theos all the time.

He’d have to fret about a Torian invasion, he supposed, but that wouldn’t happen for a while, if ever.

He could step away from it all and let Alrik make the decisions. Maybe he would marry Gaiera.

He frowned down into her kind, confused face, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I need to do something. Can you—would you mind—could you stay in the library? For as long as possible, before going back and telling them you were alone?”

“Alone? Where are you going to be?”

“I have business.”

She frowned, but then said, “You’ll tell me about it someday?”

“If I can,” he promised, and he kissed her quickly on the forehead.

Her eyes were bright and interested as she nodded. “Go. I’ll hold off the families.”

He ran. Up the stairs to his brother’s study, then down the hall to his own set of rooms. Then back to the kitchen, where he hovered indecisively at the top of the stairs. Would they still be down there, or gone already?

Finnvid pushed open the door to the courtyard and the footprints in the snow told the tale, although with the way the wind was blowing the trail wouldn’t be visible for long.

So they didn’t have much of a lead on him.

He jogged out into the snowy night, through the walled service yard, and yanked the wooden gate open.

A sleigh was right in front of him, two dark horses hitched and ready, blankets piled in the back as if waiting for passengers .

. . but no Sacrati in sight. How had he missed them?

He turned, saw a shadow change near the wall, and realized he hadn’t missed them at all.

The shadow came closer, big and bulky, the movement rougher than he’d expected, and then he saw the man’s face.

It was covered with dark bruises, cuts and scabs, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. “Theos,” Finnvid breathed.

Then Theos acted, far too quickly for someone so battered. An uncovered fist, headed straight for Finnvid’s face. His head rocked back, an explosion of pain and pressure across his jaw. And then darkness closed in from the sides, and Finnvid felt himself falling to the cold white snow.