Chapter Eight
THEA
F eeling as bruised on the inside as she did on the outside, that evening Thea found Cal and Kipp in the armoury, arguing over the merits of cavalry versus archery units.
Thea lingered in the doorway, watching their heated debate, already feeling a smile tug at the corner of her mouth and a familiar warmth spread in her chest.
‘It entirely depends!’ Kipp waved his hands passionately. ‘Is it a siege? An open battle on a field? Are there watchtowers? What about archers on horseback? Honestly, Callahan, I’m questioning my middling opinion of you.’
‘I was only saying that archers can —’
‘It’s like asking me what’s better: a beautiful naked woman on her back or on her knees?’
In spite of the day she’d had, Thea snorted. ‘What is better, Kristopher?’
Kipp leapt a foot in the air, clapping a hand to his heart. ‘Furies save me, Thea, I nearly shat my pants.’
‘Then I’d hope the Furies would save Cal and me first.’
Cal shook his head and shoved their friend aside, slinging an arm around Thea and giving her a squeeze. ‘Where have you been? We’ve hardly seen you lately.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I was hoping you’d have some time tonight? For a drink?’ She lifted the ceramic jug she’d brought from the cabin. ‘Perhaps some sour mead from the Laughing Fox, courtesy of Wilder Hawthorne?’
She’d found it hidden at the back of the pantry. Hopefully the hard bastard wouldn’t notice it missing, at least for a long while yet. She figured her friends deserved a little something extra for withstanding her recent moods.
Kipp’s eyes lit up. ‘You wouldn’t tease me, would you?’
‘Not about sour mead,’ Thea replied, smiling. ‘I wouldn’t want to be placed in a shit unit during the next battle.’
Kipp swiped the growler from her and cradled it like a swaddled infant. ‘Good to know someone sees the value in my esteemed position.’
‘Oh, sure, “unofficial apprentice” to Esyllt was a much sought-after post,’ Cal scoffed.
‘I’ll have you know there was nearly a full-blown riot over who would take the role,’ Kipp said.
‘I’m sure,’ Thea replied, hiding her grin.
‘But enough about me – for now. There are more important matters at hand.’ Kipp linked an arm through Thea’s. ‘Where shall we drink?’
‘One of your rooms?’ Thea suggested.
The young men exchanged baffled looks before bursting out in incredulous laughter.
‘Rooms?’ Cal wheezed. ‘You think lowly apprentices get rooms of their own?’
Thea was taken aback. ‘When you moved from the dormitories, I just assumed…’
Kipp chuckled. ‘We’ve got little cots, like dog beds. In fact, I think mine was a dog bed, judging by the smell.’
‘Oh,’ Thea managed. ‘I thought that was just me.’
‘Hate to break it to you…’ Kipp elbowed her, in a particularly tender spot. ‘But you’re not that special.’
So… Hawthorne had been treating her just like all the other apprentices. She shrugged off the thought. ‘Bloodwoods?’
Kipp looked horrified. ‘We love you, Thea, but I’m not freezing my bollocks off in the dark for you.’
‘Because in the light would be so much better?’ She laughed. ‘Where, then?’
Kipp tapped his chin thoughtfully. ‘I know a place,’ he said, making for the door.
Cal gave a long-suffering sigh. ‘Of course you do.’
Unsure what to expect, but feeling lighter than she had in weeks, Thea followed her friends just beyond the stables to an abandoned courtyard, where Kipp paced, scuffing the dirt with his boots. ‘It’s somewhere here,’ he muttered, more to himself than to the others.
‘What are you looking for?’
Kipp was quiet, still pacing, still kicking at the ground. ‘This!’ he said victoriously, reaching down and pulling on the handle to an iron hatch.
‘What is that?’ Cal asked, his voice laced with scepticism.
‘Shut up and help me with this, would you?’ Kipp retorted, motioning to the heavy trap door.
Thea watched on, fascinated. She’d never noticed the hatch before, but why would she? The small courtyard was hardly used but for readying horses and unloading supplies.
With a series of grunts, the young men pulled the door free, revealing a ladder down into a cellar. Thea’s skin prickled in recognition. But it wasn’t until she had climbed down and Kipp had lit a torch that she truly knew it for what it was.
Though it was full to the brim with kegs and barrels now, it was undeniably the same room where she and the other children had been hidden two decades before, during the attack on Thezmarr.
As she wandered its perimeter, she even spotted the grate from which she’d spied upon the women surrendering their weapons in the main courtyard, the smell of burnt hair and heather drifting through the grate.
‘Thea?’ Kipp was saying. ‘How about that mead?’
She nodded, passing it to him. ‘What is this place? How do you know about it?’
Kipp looked around as though checking to make sure no one else could hear as Cal closed the door above and slid down the ladder, dropping down beside them.
‘It’s the masters’ cellar. I discovered it a long time ago,’ he explained, pointing to a locked door. ‘That there is the main fortress larder.’
Cal motioned to a door on the opposite side. ‘What about that one?’
‘That? Oh… That’s nothing.’
‘Nothing? It’s never nothing with you.’
Kipp gave a conspirator’s grin at that and tugged a kerchief from his pocket. He waved it at them, a bushy fox’s tail embroidered in the corner. ‘The Son of the Fox has his secrets, my friends. A man of mystery.’
Thea rolled her eyes. ‘You just going to cradle that mead all night, man of mystery, or are we gonna drink it?’
Kipp laughed and took a swig straight from the jug, passing it to her. He went about examining the stores, as though taking stock of what might come in handy later, ever the strategist.
Thea drank from the growler, the sour mead washing over her tongue, nearly moaning at the crisp taste. She hadn’t indulged in a long time, not when training was so brutal and she was up before dawn every morning. Making herself comfortable atop one of the barrels, she held the jug out to Cal.
He jumped up onto the drum beside hers and accepted gratefully, drinking deep. ‘This a reward for all the ruthless drills you’ve been doing?’
The mead nearly came out of Thea’s nose. ‘Reward? You’re joking.’
Cal frowned. ‘No?’
Kipp returned to them, a few of his pockets bulging, but his face was serious as he surveyed her, his eyes lingering on her splinted fingers and bruises. ‘You’ve been training hard…’
‘That’s my job,’ Thea replied, a little defensively.
‘You need to be in one piece for the Great Rite,’ Cal said carefully, passing the jug to Kipp.
‘I know that.’
‘Do you?’ Kipp pressed. ‘We’re worried —’
‘Don’t be.’
‘Oh, it’s that simple, is it?’ Cal’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Thea sighed. ‘Let’s talk about something else.’
‘Like?’
‘Like…’ She cleared her throat. ‘Have you ever heard of fallen Warswords?’
‘No…’ Cal said slowly. ‘No one in particular, in any case. I know it’s possible, though. The power can become too great for a warrior…’
‘So you don’t think someone like… someone like Vernich… could be one?’
Kipp’s nose wrinkled at the Bloodletter’s name. ‘You know I’d be the first person to think that after what he did.’
The image of Kipp’s face caving beneath the fists of the older Warsword swam in Thea’s vision. It was one of her worst memories of Thezmarr. Cal shuddered as well.
‘But I don’t think he’s anything more than a cruel bastard,’ Kipp finished. ‘Why do you ask?’
Thea tried to give a casual shrug. ‘I followed him and Seb the other night.’
‘And?’
‘And I heard them talking about the Daughter of Darkness from the prophecy… Saying she has risen. And that she’s after something. A weapon of sorts, it sounded like.’
Both Cal and Kipp were staring at her.
‘Vernich said he’s going to get it…’
Her friends exchanged sceptical looks. ‘You should ask Hawthorne about it,’ Cal suggested.
‘That’s like trying to get blood from a stone.’
Cal shrugged. ‘I don’t know about this thing with Vernich… But Hawthorne has done it before – hunted down a fallen Warsword, I mean. He would know the signs. There were stories going round a few years back.’
Of course Hawthorne knew about it. That didn’t help her one bit, though. She sighed. ‘Forget it. I don’t want to think about it anymore. I want to talk, to have fun.’
‘You missed us, huh?’ Kipp said with a wink.
‘I wouldn’t go that far.’
‘Horseshit. It pains you to be without us.’ He raised the jug in salute. ‘Well, never fear, wraith slayer, we’re here to stay.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ Cal sniffed. ‘I can think of better places to be than this damp shithole.’
‘There’s always a booth for us at the Laughing Fox!’
Cal threw his hands up. ‘Great, I’ll just forfeit my hard-won apprenticeship and pop over to Hailford, shall I?’
Thea felt the smile tugging at her mouth as she listened. However idiotic they were, her friends were good for her soul. They soothed the ache in her chest, a loneliness that had yawned wide open since Wren, since Hawthorne…
It must have shown on her face, because Kipp’s gaze slid to hers. ‘You know you can talk to us, right?’
‘I know.’
‘Do you? Because you’ve hardly said more than a handful of words to us since the initiation,’ Kipp ventured. ‘I thought we were closer than that, after everything we’ve been through.’
Thea didn’t miss the note of hurt in his voice. Fuck, she’d messed it up with everyone, hadn’t she?
Cal’s knee nudged hers. ‘What happened with you and the Warsword?’
The breath Thea exhaled was shaky. ‘We…’
‘Slept together?’ Kipp finished matter-of-factly.
Thea cringed, feeling her ears grow hot before she managed to compose herself.
They’d kept their questions and suspicions to themselves for a long while already, well aware that things were far from simple between her and her mentor.
Realistically, it had only been a matter of time before they found out. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call it that.’
‘What would you call it?’ Kipp asked.