Chapter 18
T here was a direct correlation between the level of animation in Emer’s storytelling and the amount of mead consumed. Calder watched in unabashed amusement, due partially to the outlandish stories, but more by how Emer told them.
The nature of the conversation varied between tales of the Morvran’s brutality—something he had both earned and inherited from his father—and more debaucherous themes. While Calder had not offered further comment on the latter, he did correct several details for the former. One such correction was that he did not, in fact, have a pet firedrake, to which Emer pouted for what seemed like a reasonable amount of time.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” she wondered aloud.
“What good would that have done?” he argued.
“I probably would have realized I didn’t stand a chance when I tried to run the first time,” she grumbled.
“See, no good would have come from it.”
After the rain darkened the skies on and off throughout the day, the sun finally set, and the pair rested on their respective bedrolls .
“You never told me how you found yourself here?” It was not the first time Calder had asked the question, but it was the first time it seemed out of genuine curiosity rather than suspicion.
For a moment, Emer looked aghast. “Are you telling me you no longer believe that I swam? Here I thought that it was such a convincing lie,” she said with a smirk.
He let out a deep chuckle before allowing the cottage to fall into a companionable silence. In the quiet, Emer’s nervous tapping was a soft whisper of the secrets she kept and the turmoil they caused.
Calder waited.
“I was on a ship manned by a small crew and we were attacked in the middle of the night. One of my father’s men is a friend of mine and he threw me overboard during the attack to protect me.”
Calder snorted and she narrowed her eyes at him.
“I’m sorry, did you say someone threw you overboard to ‘protect’ you?” His eyebrow raised as he stared back at her.
“Well, yes… obviously, there was a lot happening. And you just had to be there. Lachlan didn’t want me to be captured and one of us needed to get to shore,” she explained.
Calder released a low whistle.
“Anyway.” She continued glaring at him. “We were supposed to sail much further north. I was never supposed to be here.”
He shook his head, laughing ruefully. “Based on yours and this Lachlan ’ s questionable decision-making, I am surprised you made it off your isle.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
His expression lit up at the way she growled the curse. “Such language. You’ve clearly been in my company too long as it is, but I feel I should keep you a little longer and teach you how to sail since, clearly, no man in your life has done so properly,” he remarked, his eyes full of a delighted heat.
“Firstly, we were attacked. We didn’t sink. Secondly, I don’t need your help getting to Lunochy.” She was so angry that she did not realize how easily she let slip everything she tried to keep hidden.
“Lunochy!” he exclaimed. “Merrow, you aren’t even on the correct side of the Bleeding Trees. Do you even know where Lunochy is? Or how much shit lies between you and there?” he asked, genuinely shocked to learn of her destination.
As her eyes began to grow glassy, he realized he had not considered why she would be traveling to that particular place.
“The Well?” he asked sorrowfully.
She swallowed hard. “I will lose my father if I don’t.” Her voice grew thin and her words seemed to get lost in the darkness of the cottage. “We’ve tried everything else. You may think I am naive for having hope or incapable of succeeding, but I would go to the ends of the realm to protect my family regardless of the personal risk or less than favorable odds.” Taking another deep breath and lifting her chin higher, she added, “I would rather die chasing after hope than submit to hopelessness in safety.”
The corner of his lips turned up, “She would have liked you.”
At her clear confusion, he clarified, “My mother. She would have liked you.”
Now it was Emer’s turn to be silent.
They remained in the quiet until it slowly slipped into sleep. It was the first time Emer had slept soundly in recent memory.
When Emer woke the next morning, it was to chilled air and the scent of sea water filling her lungs. The fire had been smothered, and if it was not for the two cloaks that covered her, Emer’s bones would have been far stiffer than they were.
The space Calder occupied the evening before was vacant, but the watchful bird perched on the back of the nearby chair meant that he had not gone far.
She found him a short time later just outside the cottage and standing beside two striking horses. They were black as night and intimidatingly large. Horses fit for a Raven.
“Do you ride?” he asked without turning to greet her.
“I don’t leave my village, so no,” she answered.
“Then this will be far more entertaining than I previously anticipated,” he mused.
“W-why entertaining?” she asked, not doing a compelling job of hiding her concern.
“Because it’s gonna be a long ride,” he said with a chuckle as he stepped away from the horses and into the cottage to retrieve their things.
When he returned, he secured the remaining items to the horses and then led them to Emer, introducing them as Danu and Aven before dropping the reins of the latter into her hand.
Emer stared down at the strips of leather and then back up at the beast, her features pinched with contemplation.
“You can’t mount him, can you?” he observed.
She shook her head and Calder hummed.
Dropping to one knee, he smacked the thigh of his bent leg and offered her his hand.
Emer, for the first time, stared down at him.
“Don’t look so surprised. I am actually quite charming,” he said.
Emer hesitated, reassessing the horse and the likelihood that she could climb the creature unassisted.
“You will stab me but you hesitate to step on me?” he said with a bored expression, wiggling the fingers of the hand that remained suspended between them.
“You were trying to hold me against my will! I think I was entitled to my reactions. Besides, I saw you fighting at the keep, I am surprised you didn’t enjoy being stabbed!”
A wicked grin appeared on his face. “I never said I didn’t, I was simply drawing a comparison for your benefit,” he cooed. “Which reminds me. ”
He removed Dempsey’s knife from the sheath at his hip and tapped it against her calf, urging her to bring her boot to his thigh. When she obeyed the silent command, he cast his gaze down, still smiling, and slipped the knife into her boot.
“To the victor,” he said quietly and then brought his hand out to her once more. When he met her gaze, there was a slight glint. “Also, if my chivalry is particularly moving to you, I would happily accept any gratitude you see fit,” he said with a wink.
Grinding her boot into his leg, she stepped up, gripped the saddle’s pommel, and drew herself onto the horse. All without taking his hand.
Calder stared at her, hand still raised. After a moment, he cleared his throat, rising to his feet and dusting off his breeches.
Standing at his full height, Calder put into perspective just how large the beast beneath Emer was and knots quickly formed in her stomach as a result. As he mounted his own and strode forward, Emer could not quiet the yelps that escaped her as she swayed.
Calder slowed, allowing her to come beside him.
“Emer, you are making him nervous.” His voice hinted at concern rather than reproach.
Her eyes were fixed on Aven’s body beneath her, her jaw clenched tightly.
“May I?” he asked, moving in closer when she gave a tight nod.
Leaning from Danu, Calder placed his hand over Emer’s. “Hold the reins loosely, just in front of the saddle until you need to direct his change in course.”
She eased her grip.
“Let your legs do most of the work,” he explained.
When her legs immediately tensed, he tapped her thigh. “Relax, Merrow.”
Following his direction, Aven began to move forward. Emer turned to Calder excitedly, the pride in her expression mirrored in his own. She tensed briefly at the feel of his hand pressing against her lower back. The ease with which he managed to slip it beneath her cloak did little to discredit the tales of the ‘debaucherous and whoring pirate king.’
“Relax,” he repeated.
Her body began to rock along with Aven’s strides.
“Good.”
The knots in her stomach were replaced by an unfamiliar heat, one she thought might have seeped into her cheeks. She looked at Calder again, awaiting further instruction, but his gaze was still fixed on her lower body. It was her turn to clear her throat.
Eyes snapping away he said, “To stop, sink your weight down, and lean back. As you do, pull back gently.”
When Aven obeyed, Emer let out a triumphant squeak.
The thought of whether Calder, clearly well-versed in training the mechanics of riding, had ever been this distracted while doing so brought Emer an inappropriate sense of satisfaction.
“Don’t look down unless I tell you. While we are alone, you can keep your gaze between the horse’s ears,” he said curtly before pulling ahead.
Emer could not help but notice that despite his own advice, he looked rather stiff.
Out of the woods and back on the main road, Emer found the concern she felt about taking this route before had vanished. It was hard to imagine anyone more threatening than the Morvran at her side. Even if those they passed did not know him by name, there was little about him that invited opposition. As long as he was there, she was safe.
Finally free of the ever-present foreboding that had loomed over her since her arrival, Emer was able to appreciate the landscape for more than the threats it posed to her journey. The greens were greener, the mountains more prominent, and the sky was harsher. It was unlike the scenery she had come to know from home, where soft fields blurred into rolling hills beneath timid skies. This Isle was all dark shades and sharp lines. It was beautiful .
“How did your parents meet?” she asked absentmindedly, wondering how his mother acclimated to this new world, knowing it was a stark contrast to theirs.
It took Calder a moment to answer, like he needed to dust off the words, and when he spoke, they were brittle from disuse.
“They met on Rest. Do you know the Ash Wood?”
Emer nodded excitedly at the mention of the forest on the eastern shore of her Isle.
“My father had been sent during the war. He was too young to be afraid of the fight and too proud to think they might lose. My mother was a midwife by trade, and despite the danger, volunteered to travel between towns. When she found him in the Ash Wood, he was barely clinging to life and she saved him. Even though he was her enemy.”
“I’ve been there once,” she admitted.
Calder gave her a smile that was more sorrowful than sweet. “Will you tell me about it?” he asked.
And so Emer recalled the day shortly before a winter solstice that had long since passed where she walked through the woods. The leaves had already fallen, painting the woods in vibrant yellows, deep reds, and bruised purples. She spoke of the creek through the center of it, the smooth stones that caused the water to rush through the land in a rippled and melodic stream.
When she finished, he simply nodded as if working to commit each word to memory. There was an equal measure of fondness and sadness when he spoke of his parents—although he had not said it, she was certain his father had joined his mother across the Array.
“How furious was your clan when your father went to war and returned with your mother?” she asked.
He huffed a breathy laugh and explained how his father had smuggled her back on one of his ships, knowing he would not have gotten permission to bring her back and not caring whether he would be forgiven for doing so. When his parents returned, the war had already ended, but there was still a fair amount of strife. To his father’s dismay, his mother was not safe. The clan initially did not accept her and urged him to send her back. That was when he announced that they had already married—a significant break from tradition. Over time, they saw the way he loved her and how deeply she loved him in return and, eventually, they accepted her.
“My clan can be brutal, but what you likely are unaware of is that we fiercely protect what is ours. We believe that blood does not determine family, but rather who you would shed blood for. My father would burn entire villages to the ground for my mother. She loved her home and leaving it to come here was a great loss to her, but there was nothing she loved more than my father,” he explained.
Emer had heard many tales of the Sea Ravens but never considered that their unstoppable nature and bloodthirsty character was driven by something as pure as the protection of others.
“If your mother found safety here, why do you insist I remain hidden?” she wondered.
The muscles in his jaw stiffened.
“You are not my wife and we are not in my village. Dempsey’s response to you should be sufficient evidence that you would not be safe. I told you my father would burn villages to the ground to protect her; the reason she was safe was because he did .”
Emer’s breath caught. A love worth burning the realm down for sounded dangerous, but she could not help the envy she felt at the idea of being considered so precious. She would blame the romanticizing of violence on her recent trauma, physical and otherwise, because there was no denying that was exactly what she was doing.
“He sounds frightening,” she confessed.
“A Morvran driven by anger will send many to their death, but a Morvran driven by love will become Death,” he recited the words that had once been a promise but now felt like a tragic prophecy come to pass in the wake of his parents passing .
“Lina was put in charge of the village and I was sent to the ships to ensure that the Morvrans had a presence on the land and sea at all times,” he explained.
Emer choked on her next breath.
Elders ’ tits. Lina!
How had she forgotten about Lina? About the letter. The discomfort at the recollection of their time together coupled with the thought that he might be promised to another was written across her features.
Calder caught the pinch in her expression and smirked. “Oh, I am sure I mentioned Lina. At the very least, you know about her from the letters you read.”
“I do. She seems to worry about you.” She swallowed hard.
He nodded, but this time, there was no smile. “Lina is…” his voice trailed off. “Lina likes to fix things. She always has. She deserves far more than a life of broken things,” he continued.
“Perhaps it brings her joy to mend the things she cares for,” Emer remarked. “Where is Lina now?” she asked, closing her eyes and cursing herself for continuing a conversation that was making her so uncomfortable that she practically itched.
“At home in our village.”
Our village.
“I have never liked her to spend much time at the keep. As you can attest, the men do not have the best manners and I would rather not have to murder them for speaking to or laying a finger on my sister. It would be frowned upon, you see?”
“Your sister,” Emer repeated and Calder didn’t bother to hide his amusement as he nodded in confirmation.
“You would be terrible at dice,” was all he said in return.
Emer knew her relief was painfully evident, but the way he smiled at her made it hard for her to care. It was a relief he did not mention and she thanked the Elders because she had no desire to study it any further .
Emer’s mind drifted to Finn, the topic of siblings an acute reminder of his absence.
“I think the Elders must weave a special bond into the hearts of brothers and sisters. If you were to cut us open, you would find a matching thread that connects us. That is why we fret. Because if their hearts break, ours will follow,” she observed, lost in thought and rambling for longer than she intended.
Rather than teasing her for her sentimental musing, Calder asked, “Is he who taught you to fight?”
“Yes. Finn is not a fighter by trade but he has a warrior’s spirit. He is in charge of the village now. For now, I mean. Until our father recovers.” She paused. “I know you don’t particularly like anyone, but I think you would like him,” she said with a smile.
Calder gave a noncommittal shrug.
“Do you cheat when you fight him too?” he challenged, pointing to the healing split in his brow.
“He taught me to not underestimate my enemy, so maybe you should take notes from him,” she teased.
“Is that what we are, Emer? Enemies?” he asked.
“Once upon a time we were, but now I’m not so sure,” she said thoughtfully because while Calder no longer felt like her enemy, lack of malice did not necessarily make one a friend either.
“Then what are we?” he questioned.
“Strangers,” she replied.
Calder’s brow furrowed and then his gaze swept over her face. It was clear that while he had not known the answer to his own question, hers was not one he expected. “Tell me something I don’t know then… perhaps by the time we reach our destination, your answer will have changed.”
To Emer’s surprise, when she did, Calder offered her something about himself. They traded details back and forth, offering pieces of themselves equal to what the other had shared and removing their armor without leaving themselves unnecessarily bare .
Emer took each new thing she learned about Calder and wove it into the once bleak mental picture she had of him. A tapestry that was growing more colorful and complex. He was twenty-four, two years older than Emer, but his stories made it seem like he had lived multiple lifetimes. His sister was even younger still, only twenty, and he had been fiercely protective of her as they grew up. Emer hoped to learn more about his parents and their love story, but he was careful to avoid the topic. Their deaths still weighed on him heavily, and although fighting against that weight appeared to have become second nature, she wondered how long he had been carrying it.
By the time the town came into view, they approached it as acquaintances rather than strangers.