Chapter 3 #2
The Princepes of the other Territories…they could be brutal terrorists like Koerlyn.
Harthon of Fourth, a mercenary who’d killed the previous Princeps to take his place, was said to be a particularly skilled butcher who slayed men for sport.
I knew little about Fifth, Sixth, and First, but life there could be just as agonizing as the life outside this tent.
For the hundredth time, an ache filled my chest.
I just wanted to go home. I would never again complain or groan about my boring life. I would never again call it dreadful. I would find joy in the mundane, laborious tasks. And I would celebrate when Princeps Theo came to rob us of all we had but didn’t slit our throats.
Eerie silence pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. The fabric of the tent parted at the entrance. One of Koerlyn’s men appeared and stalked toward me.
My spine straightened. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed my arm and jerked me to my feet.
He smelled of urine, gore, and sweat. I hadn’t bathed since I left my village, but I also didn’t go around covering myself in others’ flesh and blood.
Compared to him, I smelled like a perfumed Princeps’ Lady.
I kept my eyes on my feet as I was marched out of the tent, not wanting to see the carnage. It was important that I held this morning’s bread and cheese in my stomach. My strength was my only asset.
He dumped me by the horses with another blood-covered man and left to help the others pack.
A short time later, the horses and single wagon were loaded, and I was hoisted onto the first man’s horse.
Disgust rolled through me as I slid backward into his soiled lap.
Trying to maintain a distance was futile when my thighs were too tender to hold me in place.
My chafed legs were a constant reminder that I’d never ridden a horse until now.
At least my restrained hands and the thick roping around them separated my body from his.
Koerlyn sat on his horse ahead of us. As the convoy began to move, he turned to face me.
Though far away, those icy eyes cut through the distance like spears.
Thin lips tilted into a smile. “Only three more stops, darling. Then we can begin to put those eyes to use,” he said, delight dancing in his words.
I swallowed but didn’t respond, though I had no idea which uses he referred to.
I hadn’t spoken since he had struck me with the whip, and I wouldn’t start now.
Koerlyn was the kind of man who created reasons to inflict pain.
I’d be stupid to encourage him again. And breaking the rules and traveling far away from my village five days ago was enough stupidity to last me my lifetime.
My very short lifetime, considering how things were currently going.
As we moved to the next village—the next massacre—the land grew hilly.
Until now, the land we’d crossed had been similar to Second Territory: flat, repetitive, speckled with dry trees and tangled briars.
Here, though, the earth was textured, small inclines and deep, rock-covered hollows and divots forcing us to slow.
The naked trees and brush grew denser as we traversed the rugged terrain, skirting around imposing boulders that were sometimes as tall as the saddle.
Hiding here would be easy.
The men must have known that, because they’d been stiff in their seats since we left hours ago.
A meaty hand snaked around my belly to keep me in place as we descended a particularly steep drop. It began to slide up toward my chest, taking new liberties—
A puff of air. The hand dropped. I spun around to watch as surprise gave way to emptiness on his ugly face. He fell. My blood quickened as I stared at the…the arrow in his side.
Shouts erupted as three wet, fleshy thumps sounded in succession. Three riders in front of me dropped from their saddles, and chaos broke loose.
Figures emerged from everywhere, shooting toward us in blurs of tan and black. Koerlyn’s men leapt to the ground, freeing their weapons, but not before some were cut down with savage swipes by men who roared.
Shock froze my limbs.
Everything was moving so fast. Too fast.
The attackers moved with savage efficiency, cutting down Koerlyn’s men with terrifying synchrony.
Some used knives, others axes, and a few swords.
All sprayed blood, working in time with the others, setting traps for each other to finish.
Koerlyn’s men took swipes of their own. They’d manage two, maybe three blocks, and then one attacker would slice their leg while another tore into their neck, and the same cycle would repeat with a new man.
The group was overwhelmed by speed and skill, and there was no way Koerlyn’s men could claw themselves out of that.
A growl broke through my reverie. I traced the sound, finding a…
a beast. It wasn’t his clothing, which was the same as the others’, or his size, which was as huge as the tree men’s.
It was the utter ferocity etched on his face as he spun and struck and moved with unmatched grace.
It was pure, raw power. Not the kind that Koerlyn held in his voice, but the kind you created with your own body.
His victim fell, and dark eyes slid to me.
Finally, finally, I was propelled into action.
My hands tied behind my back, there was little I could do but slide from the horse and prepare for the landing…
Which was directly on my rider’s bloated body.
It was gross, but it was helpful.
I rolled to my knees, stumbled to my feet, and took off.
Fear of that man lit a fire within my veins. With my arms restrained, I was awkward and unbalanced, and any speed I normally had was stunted. I stumbled over roots and rocks, unused to the bumpy terrain. The only destination I knew was away from him, and I would keep going until I got there.
Something told me that was a man I could not survive.
The sounds of battle faded, but panic ran strong. My toe rammed a rock, and I lurched forward, barely catching myself just as the air seemed to fill with electricity.
I stole a desperate glance behind me.
My lungs seized.
He was ten paces away. Feet soundless. Muscles flexing. Shadowed eyes set on me. A monster bearing down on his prey.
I was so screwed.
And I also watched my hunter for too long because the same foot rammed into another rock, and I turned my head forward in time to watch myself dive face-first down a slope. Rocks and roots passed beneath me as I sailed. The ground sped toward my face. I couldn’t break this fall with my hands.
Instinct moved me at the last second. Head tucked, shoulder forward, I crashed into the dirt. The force of the impact snapped my head back, and my body rolled twice before sliding to a stop on my bound hands.
There was no air. I couldn’t take a breath. My throat wouldn’t inhale, but I needed to breathe. I was suffocating. I’d been impaled in the chest. I was drowning out of water because I couldn’t breathe.
I tried to make my muscles work, but only a strained choke came from my open mouth.
“You can breathe. Your body knows how.” The low timbre waded through my panic, sounding fuzzy as the words registered.
I can breathe. I know how. I can breathe. I know how.
For a second, my lungs opened. A whisper of air came in. I put all my might into pushing it out. Air came in again, and I shoved it out, shaking with the effort. It wasn’t working right. It wasn’t working at all.
I became vaguely aware of a warm weight on my arm. “In for two seconds, out for two seconds. Force it,” that voice ordered.
I didn’t like the imperious tone, but I did what it said. The first breath didn’t work, and the second was stuttered, but the next one was two seconds long. Each one after that got easier, and then I was just breathing.
I registered the demanding pain sprouting from every point of my body. Everything would be purple tomorrow. There couldn’t be an inch of me that had made it unscathed. The pulsing ache in my shoulder was the worst, followed by the hot burn of angry scrapes on my back and legs.
My eyes closed, then half opened before closing again.
A low moan floated to my ears, and I belatedly realized it was mine.
That weight on my arm disappeared, and fingertips found the side of my face. The skin was rough, but the touch was light. That warmth was there again. It would be comforting if it didn’t belong to him.
“Open those eyes for me.” The request was soft, coaxing even. It didn’t sound right coming from that deep, commanding voice.
Opening them would reveal their damned color. I didn’t know what the hues would mean to him.
Those fingers traced my eyebrow, still gentle in their pressure. I wished they weren’t. I wished he would just strike me or stab me and get it over with.
“You can’t lie here forever with your eyes closed,” he said with an air of amusement. Then hot air tickled my ear, and he whispered, “And we both know I already saw them.”
My eyes snapped open, and he pulled away, bringing those irritating fingers with him. I shifted until I sat on my hip, swallowing a groan as I gave him the most savage glare I could. How I wished I’d gotten the woman’s terrifying voice with her eyes. I would wield it as a weapon against him.
If weapons could even hurt him.
He sat on his heels beside me, a hulking mass covered in light brown leathers.
Black straps crossed his torso, holstering an unreasonable number of wicked-looking knives.
Really—who needed that many knives? The hilt of a sword protruded from his back.
Studded leather braces wrapped thick forearms, but the rest of his arms were uncovered, revealing sinewed, shaped muscles scored by jagged scars.
I must have hit my head when I landed because I spent a moment thinking that I’d never seen muscles carved so precisely.
The top of his dark brown hair was pulled away into a knot, leaving the rest to hang in soft waves that just brushed those rounded shoulders.