Chapter 16 James
James
James slammed his shoulder against the door to the cabin, the force ripping the latch out of the old wood. He saw Ahnna’s wide eyes only for a second before the edge of the door struck her.
She stumbled back, ankle catching in a blanket, and then she was falling.
The sound of her head hitting the table sent a jolt through him, and James stood frozen, staring down at the woman who’d torn his world apart. She lay unmoving, and the sudden certainty that she was dead almost brought him to his knees.
It was over. It was done.
Yet rather than elation, James swallowed bile as the interior of the cabin spun around him.
This was what you came to do, he screamed at himself. This is what she deserves.
Yet his heart screamed a silent plea to the stars to undo this moment, because Ahnna was dead. She was dead, and he’d been the one to kill her. A howl started to rise in his throat, but he clenched his teeth. She deserved it. She deserved it.
She didn’t deserve this.
James grabbed hold of the doorframe to steady himself, but then Ahnna’s boot moved.
A sickening mix of relief and panic surged through him.
Kill her! a voice that sounded distinctly like Lestara screamed in his skull. Prove your loyalty!
Instead he flung himself down on Ahnna, catching hold of her wrists.
There was twine on the floor next to her belongings, and he used it to bind her arms tight.
James told himself it was because honor wouldn’t allow him to cut her throat while she was defenseless on the floor.
That he’d do it after she roused. After he said his piece.
He looked up from her bound wrists to find Ahnna watching him, clearly disoriented. “James?” she murmured. “You’re alive?”
“Disappointed?” The word came out as a snarl.
Twin tears dripped from her eyes, one catching on the rapidly swelling bruise on her cheek. “No. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You didn’t want to hurt me?” He repeated the words as if doing so would cause them to make sense. Trying to kill him was the least of the hurt she’d caused him, and anger boiled up to chase away all other emotions. Grabbing the blanket, he tore off a strip and shoved it between her teeth.
“I don’t want to hear another fucking word from you,” he hissed.
“You murdered my father and tore my family to shreds, and if that is not enough justice for your execution, know that your actions have caused Ithicana and Harendell to move toward war. If you have any goddamned decency in your black heart, confess and accept punishment, because it is the only way to avoid the destruction of your entire people.”
Her already pale face drained entirely of color, but Ahnna slowly shook her head.
James jerked a knife from the sheath in his boot, then pinned her to the ground, his knees to either side of her. “Confess.”
Her voice was garbled and muffled by the gag. “No.”
The blade of his knife kissed her throat, a line of blood appearing. “Confess, and I’ll make it quick.”
Her hazel eyes had regained their sharp focus, and she glared at him with utter defiance. “No.”
The knife in his hand quivered as he warred with himself. As his desire for vengeance for his father and absolution from the hurt he’d caused his family fought against an inner force that refused to do harm to the woman beneath him.
James dropped the knife and closed his fingers around her throat.
“Why won’t you confess?” he whispered, his fingers tightening enough that she struggled to breathe.
“I saw you, Ahnna. Saw you holding the bloody knife with my own eyes. Saw the ruin you made of my father with the same blade. Your guilt is certain. All you need to do is confess and we can end this painlessly.”
Ahnna only stared him in the eye and jerked her head from side to side.
Kill her, Lestara ordered from his thoughts. Give your father justice. Prove your loyalty to your brother.
But his hands refused to tighten. Refused to cut off her breath entirely, because it would mean watching the life disappear from those eyes.
With a scream of frustration, James flung himself away from her.
He leaned against the wall of the cabin, head in his hands, raging at his inability to do what needed to be done.
Lowering his hands, he stared at her. “I hate you, Ahnna Kertell. I hate you more than I believed was possible. You deserve death, and it will come for you, even if I’m too much of a coward to do it. ”
“James,” she said around the gag. “I didn’t—”
“Shut up!” he screamed. “I don’t want to hear any of your poison. Don’t say another fucking word.”
“Please—”
He snatched up the blanket and tore off another strip.
Thicker this time, and he shoved it in with the first gag, silencing her.
Yet Ahnna still watched him, her gaze making his skin burn, so he threw the blanket over her face.
He didn’t want to hear her, didn’t want to look at her, in case whatever power she had over him took control of his mind and caused him to go back on his oath to his family entirely.
Kicking open the door, James strode out into the snow to where Maven waited, her coat crusted with blood in several places after their near escape from the avalanche.
He stroked her neck, losing himself to the memory of how she’d leapt forward, just barely clearing the slide as it swept across the trail.
Small rocks and shards of ice had struck them as they galloped on, and only when the roar ceased did he rein the mare in and look back.
The path had disappeared.
The slope was a carnage of torn-up trees, rocks, and snow, with the faint haze of smoke hanging over all of it. To cross it on foot would be a challenge. No horse could make it across without breaking a leg.
On the far side of the avalanche, his men gaped at him from atop their horses.
“Major General, are you all right?” Arthur shouted. “Are you hurt?”
Blood ran down James’s cheek from where a rock had struck him, and Maven had several small wounds, but James shouted back, “I’m fine!”
“Easy, girl,” he’d murmured as he dismounted. Maven was snorting wildly, her sides soaked with sweat. Pulling off his greatcoat, he draped it over her neck and shoulders, walking her back and forth until her sides ceased heaving. Rubbing her forehead, he said, “I’m sorry for doing that to you.”
James wished he could promise it would never happen again.
Arthur was slowly picking his way across the debris. Leaving Maven to rest, James ventured onto the mess of rock, broken trees, and snow, eventually meeting the other man in the middle.
“With the utmost respect, are you mad?” Arthur demanded. “If your mare was a fraction of a second slower, you’d both be pulp at the bottom of this mountain.” He gestured downslope, where rocks and debris were still bouncing down and down.
“It would be impossible to catch her on foot, so I had no other choice.” James wiped away the melting snow. The droplets that struck the ground were stained pink from a cut on his face. “To backtrack to another pass would put us days behind, and she’d reach the border long before us.”
Despite the logic of the argument, Arthur stared at him as though he spoke gibberish.
Sighing, James said, “I’ll take all the supplies you can spare and pursue her while you backtrack. Do you have a map?”
Arthur silently retrieved a creased map from the inner pocket of his greatcoat and handed it over.
James spread it on a rock. “Resupply and get more reinforcements, then come up this trail here.” He traced a route to the north of their current position.
“Once I have her, I’ll return via the same route and meet you. ”
Arthur frowned. “To do that will take you right to the border, sir.”
James shrugged. “The Amaridians don’t patrol deep into the Blackreaches this time of year, and besides, it’s hardly the first time I’ve ventured onto their soil. I’ll be in and out before they notice.”
“Alone?”
“I can handle Ahnna Kertell.” James shoved the map into his pocket. “She believes her avalanche cut us off and that we can’t pursue. She’ll lower her guard, and I’ll catch her unaware. Bring her back for execution.”
At the time, it had been a lie, because he had fully intended to cut her throat himself. Fully intended to prove to his family that they had his loyalty, no matter his past mistakes.
Except he hadn’t been able to do it.
He led Maven back to the cabin, then took the rope fastened to her saddles and used it to bind Ahnna tightly.
He desperately wanted to fling her over Dippy’s back and lead her straight back to Harendell, but the snow was falling heavily and Maven was exhausted.
James was exhausted, too, and if he didn’t get some rest and food in his stomach, he might make a mistake.
He led Maven into the space at the rear, Dippy whinnying happily at the sight of his stablemate.
Maven pinned her ears and snapped at the gelding, in no mood for his cheerful demeanor, although she calmed as James untacked her and brushed the sweat marks from her coat.
Feeding and watering both animals, he left them to rest and returned to the living quarters.
Ahnna remained trussed on the floor, her only motion the slight rise and fall of her chest. He said nothing to her as he added wood to the fire, and then sat on the single chair while he ate and drank.
Why couldn’t he do it? Why couldn’t he put down the woman who’d ruthlessly butchered his father?
What is wrong with me?
It was exhaustion, he told himself. James couldn’t remember the last time he’d really slept, and that’s what was weakening his resolve. A few hours of rest would put steel back into his spine, and he’d do what needed to be done.
Triple-checking that Ahnna’s bindings and gag were secure, James sat with his back against the wall and his sword across his legs.
He stared at the crackling fire, but against his will, his eyes tracked to Ahnna’s still form.
Her wrists were bound, as were her ankles, and he’d strung a rope between them to reduce her mobility even more.
Though she could probably have removed the blanket covering her face, she hadn’t tried, and a sudden unease filled him that she’d hit her head harder than he’d thought.
That she’d been slowly dying beneath a rough woolen blanket while he’d eaten a meal.
Let her die! his anger demanded. If her skull is cracked, you can’t save her anyway.
James tightened his grip on his sword hilt and clenched his teeth, fighting the urge to get up. His heart thundered faster and faster, his eyes fixed on Ahnna’s chest, which still rose and fell.
Maybe she was just asleep.
Or maybe her brain was bleeding, and the next heartbeat would be her last.
Cursing, James twisted onto his knees and yanked the blanket off her face. Ahnna glared back at him, the firelight gleaming off her eyes. Unblinking, she slowly shook her head.
“Your stubbornness will not save you.”
Using her limited range of motion, Ahnna lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and with a snarl of frustration that was more at himself than her, James threw the blanket back over her head.
He returned to his place at the wall.
Sleep, he ordered himself. Rest.
And though it seemed impossible given the way his heart thrummed, his eyelids slowly drifted shut as exhaustion claimed him.