Chapter 6 #2
One hand over my middle, I coughed and slumped forward.
“Leave…leave the young ones. Harm them, and you bring even more war to Ivar and Britta from two kingdoms. She is a Night Folk princess.” I gestured at Laila.
“The others, your enemies will have nothing stopping them from slaughtering all of you as revenge. You’ve seen what they can do.
Harm their children, and I do not want to think of how painfully you will greet the Otherworld. ”
The guard knew the truth of it, and it did not take much time before he called off his men.
“Final night here, fae,” he said, one finger shoved in my face. “Maybe they’ll keep breathing, but on the morrow, you’ll be separated. Mark me.”
The echo of the door filled the room for half a dozen breaths.
It was Ash who broke the silence. “They can’t take me from Hanna.”
I closed my eyes. “If they do, I need you all to remember we will get free of this. We don’t leave each other behind, understand? But we will get free of this damn room.” I clutched my injured arm against my middle and turned. “Ash, will you help settle them? I need to see to Erik.”
It was too much to ask a boy of only thirteen, but Ash did not hesitate. He gathered the littles and whispered softly under his breath. Slowly, sobs faded to hiccups, tears faded to sniffles.
“Erik.” I limped over to where the young sea fae curled on the stones. He wouldn’t look at me. “Boy, let me wrap those wounds.”
He shook his head, and buried his face in his palms, like he was ashamed to look my way.
I did not press him, merely took time finding another scrap of linen to slow the bleeding on his neck and carefully peel off the tunic to dry. Most nights Erik removed his top so any damp blood would not infect me as he slept.
I inspected his leg. Hastily wrapped, but straighter than I’d expect after a recent fracture. I needed to know if they’d set the bone or if I’d have the unpleasant task of doing it. “Erik, did the guards do something to your leg after it broke?”
The boy split his fingers over his face and peered at me through the gaps, nose wrinkled. “Bad water.”
Ah. Likely an elixir from a Black Palace Elixist. I knew enough alvers to understand they had tonics for bone healing. But if the leg had not been set properly first…damn them all. We’d need to re-break the bones to fix it again or his leg would not be the same.
“There.” I finished securing a cloth around his skinny neck to stop the bleeding. Days since arriving and the little was coated in wounds. No mistake, the rest of his days those marks would be visible.
A rush of affection choked the back of my throat. Tortured at such a young age, and this boy had not broken. Not really. He hardly knew how to even bleeding cry.
“You’re a damn warrior, Erik Bloodsinger,” I whispered, one palm resting on the top of his head. “Did they break your leg to get you to sing?”
He shook his head and covered his face with his palms again. Where he might’ve gone quiet days earlier, now the boy had enough trust for me to speak. They’d taken him to Ivar’s room. He’d seen an open window. Erik jumped after hearing they planned to take his heart if he did not sing.
There was a wet gash down the center of his chest to prove their threats.
Gingerly, I scooped my arms under his body, ignoring the sharp bite of pain scorching over my shoulder. Erik whimpered, never uncovering his face, but allowed me to cradle him on my lap. He sank against my chest, a small shudder rolling through his shoulders. Tears he was fighting to keep in.
I let my lips drop to his messy hair and whispered, “I mean what I say, and you are stronger than any warrior I know. But you must hear me, you may scream if you wish, cry, shout, I will never say a word.”
Erik shook his head vigorously, as though horrified I’d even suggest it.
“All right.” I tightened the hold of my uninjured arm around his body. “If you choose too, you may cry against me. It will muffle the sound and it will remain between the two of us.”
The boy gripped my tunic and buried his face against my heart. In truth, I thought he might’ve been biting my sweaty top all to keep sounds of pain from spilling out.
The child feared revealing weakness and I hated he had to learn such a thing at such a young age.
I did not know what his life was like in his strange seas, but I could not deny that whenever my folk came—and they would—I would not relish the thought of parting with Erik Bloodsinger.
“When this is all over,” I whispered. “You’re going to play like other littles. No more fears like this.”
I paused, waiting. Erik’s shoulders relaxed a little more. He was silent, but listening.
“It’s true. You can come stay with us Night Folk. Littles in our kingdom play all types of games. They’re sturdy and work hard, but play even harder.”
Now, I saw a peek of crimson when Erik pulled down one of his palms from his face.
I gave him a sly sort of grin. “I am what you might call the second in command of our warriors. There is the First Knight, then me. So, I do not say this to boast, but my longhouse is rather large. Plenty of room for you, boy.”
His second hand pulled away.
“Ah, see, we’d make the grandest room in the loft. A big bed with heavy furs and quilts, for it does get rather cold. My house is even near the fjord, plenty of water. Good swimming. You’d best us all, wouldn’t you?”
A small flicker of a grin played at Erik’s mouth.
“You would. I’m piss-poor at swimming. No match for a sea fae. You’d get to play, Erik. You deserve to play, all littles do.”
His eyes grew heavy. I tucked his head back against my chest. “Get some sleep now. We’ll talk more of that big loft room and games we’ll play come morning.”
The boy complied and let his eyes close. In his dreams he only released a few whimpers, a few silent tears.
I spoke such a grand tale, convincing a young sea fae he’d want for nothing. But when my folk broke us free the next day—as promised—only then did I learn I’d spent the night boasting of a humble warrior’s life to a bleeding prince.