3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Gerta
K ay casually sheathes the sword he had aimed in my direction without a word from me.
“I’m so pleased we could resolve this peacefully,” Kay says in a monotone tone not equipped for expressing pleasure. “I shall now surrender on my sister’s behalf and call for a full retreat for the rest of my men. I do not wish to lose anyone my first mission; that is poor form.”
Crossing my arms, I frown at him, since I now know better than to look away. “What makes you think I’ll let them go?”
“Are you capable of meeting the expenses of seven prisoners?”
We can barely meet the expenses of the five of us between Smalls’ and Wolf’s appetites. “What makes you think we won’t slaughter you all?” I glance toward where Wolf has thrown off both the other men and is about to eat her victim’s face off. I tug her tail.
Snarling, she whirls to face me and pants menacingly.
But she knows my scent in this form, so I turn back to Kay, unconcerned.
He is watching us like a casual observer. “Because you haven’t taken a life yet, and it would be illogical for you to begin now. You have displayed great skill in protesting without bloodshed.”
Is that . . . admiration in his voice? “I thought this was your first mission. ”
“It is, but I read debriefs about every mission in this region for the past year to prepare. Not that it helped me.” He stuffs his gloved hands into his trouser pockets in a way that I think is meant to look sheepish. But since his posture is still perfect and his expression is blank, the gesture makes him look like an unusually posed ice statue. “I’ll admit that while I fancied the notion of having the chance to meet and possibly reason with a rebel, I did not expect one to fall into my lap. It has put me quite out of sorts.”
I’m not sure this man has been out of sorts a day in his life. Or maybe this is him being out of sorts and he actually operates like a normal mortal when he’s in sorts.
“If only you would tell me your name . . .”
I narrow my eyes. “Call your retreat.”
Kay turns from me immediately and bellows loudly enough that I fear an avalanche. “Take the horses and return to Ewigkeit Proper.” He turns to me. “You don’t mind if we keep the horses, do you?”
Not sure what to do with such a compliant enemy, I just shake my head. “Go ahead.”
The men who faced Wolf help each other to their feet and hurry to join their comrades in gathering the horses that did not spook.
Kay remains by my side, removing his steel helmet. Strangely enough, his hair beneath, though a military cut, is Gaelic blond— it’s just a shade or two darker than mine. “I may not be of much value yet to the Constantinium with this being only my first mission since I joined the ranks, but I can assure you that I am of great value to you alive.”
I point to where his men are untying the horses from the wagon. “As you have said, I have no need for pris—”
“My father is a wealthy man,” Kay continues like he can’t hear me. “He will pay a king’s ransom for my return. ”
My mouth closes. When I open it again, I point at his sword. “I will have to confiscate your weapons.”
“Of course.” He unclasps his belt, and the sheathed sword he almost used against me clatters to the snow.
His men who were not nearly mauled by a werwolfe — those are already galloping back the way they came— glance back at their captain in concern.
Kay nods to them. “Retreat and send word to my father. Tell of what has come to pass and ask that he prepare a ransom.”
The men salute. Then they ride between Prince and Biggs, who glance at each other in confusion and then turn to me.
At least Smalls isn’t down here to barrage me with questions I’d rather not answer in front of the prisoner.
Kay’s gaze moves beyond me to Wolf, who is staring at him like she is considering pouncing on him next. She doesn’t know his scent, after all.
I whistle at her and gesture away from us.
Wolf lowers her tail. Then she sulks back toward her bushes by the curve in the road, where she stashed a fresh change of garments for when she morphs back.
Kay exhales when she leaves— his first sign of being unnerved by this situation in any way. Then he turns to me. “I also have a knife in my left boot.”
“What?”
“If you wish to fully disarm me, I have a knife in my left boot.”
If there were any doubt in my mind that this man was lying about his father being wealthy, it’s gone now. There’s no way he took the rank of captain without his father paying for that right.
I turn to Prince and Biggs, who are comparing injuries. Then I gesture for them to come forward.
“What’s going on, Gerta?” Biggs asks, pulling his fur cap down over his pointed ears .
“Gerta?” Kay asks, turning to me like he somehow recognizes me with that name.
I glare at Biggs. Since he’s half-elf, stealth is one of the core tenants of his life. Unfortunately, that doesn’t include keeping his big mouth closed.
“Restrain our prisoner,” I snap. I already don’t like the way Kay seems to take in every detail with just a glance. Now he’ll be able to report my name to his superior officers.
Though, I suppose that doesn’t matter. I’m just another Gaelic orphan.
Prince and Biggs share a glance again before they each grab one of Kay’s hands.
Only then do I kneel and reach into Kay’s boot. I pull out a blade just as promised. This one has ornate woodwork, but it isn’t Constantinium issued.
“My mother gave it to me,” Kay offers. “She wanted to ensure I could make it back to her.”
Prince snorts. “How’s that working out for you?”
Kay ignores him, his warm blue gaze focused on me. “I also have a blade beneath my shirt.”
“Beneath your shirt?”
“Yes. I should have thought to put it between my tunic and my shirt to be considerate, but I’m afraid I did not take this situation into consideration when I dressed this morn.”
I blow a golden strand of hair that escaped my fur cap out of my face. Then I glance between my men who are holding Kay’s arms. For a moment, I consider telling them to free a hand, but that would be folly. He doesn’t need any chance at grasping a weapon. This could all be a ruse, after all, for Kay to fight his way to freedom. I’m not worried that he would be successful, but that he won’t survive. I don’t care to sully my hands with his blood— especially since his father is likely powerful enough to retaliate .
Since there’s no other option, I grasp his tunic myself and push it up. Because Kay already undid his belt, I have no trouble lifting either his tunic or his shirt.
Goosebumps prickle on Kay’s hairless skin that is wholly impractical for the climate. He possesses far more defined muscles than I was anticipating for a wealthy heir. But he is in the military, and Constantinium likely has standards even men with rich fathers need to meet.
“The blade is on a chain around my neck,” Kay offers, and I realize too late I’ve been staring at his bare torso for far longer than necessary.
I quickly locate the sheathed blade hanging against his chest, just as he said. Then I grasp it, brushing my fingers over bare skin before pulling it free. Then I quickly drop his shirt.
Prince arches his brow at me, and I have a bad feeling my face is redder than the wind normally makes it which is foolhardy, because it’s not like I’m a stranger to man flesh. After all, Prince likes to wander around without a tunic or shirt for as long as he can bear in vain attempts to convince the Snow Queen to come down from her high mountain and take him as her next bridegroom.
We’re all fairly certain that Prince must be under some kind of curse, because his level of infatuation with a legend simply isn’t natural.
Wolf jogs over, a woman again with thick black hair attesting to the fact that she is an Ehyptian rather than Gaelic despite the furs that she wears. But she is as invested in helping us free our homeland from our southern neighbors, as we are —if only because Constantinium and Ehyptio are ancient enemies. “We have a prisoner?”
Smalls jogs over a moment later. “Forget the prisoner— we have fresh supplies!” He caresses the broken-down wagon I crashed through .
“Too bad we no longer have any horses,” Biggs mutters.
“Yes, too bad.” I take Kay’s arm away from him. “Which is why you get to help Smalls pull it.”
Kay glances at my oldest friend at my use of his name.
Smalls stares back at Kay, frowning like he recognizes Kay from somewhere.
Biggs doesn’t notice any of this exchange, though, as he processes my words. “ Me ?” He frowns. “But I’m just an elf.”
“ Half -elf,” I correct, nodding toward the chariot.
He groans but cheers up significantly when Wolf joins him to help push.
I turn to Kay, who is behaving a lot more compliantly than my own men and just studying me wordlessly. “Well, I suppose it’s time for you to see how the other side lives, Captain.”