Chapter 9
Roark
Crouched in a row of hedges, I waited in the distance. Nivek was far enough he looked small on the shore, but his hand stretched out to the burly tide wanderer who sailed the ship. My brother was paying the sod to keep watch over my melder girl, and I wasn’t certain I trusted the plan.
What if the tide wanderer lied?
What if he gave her over to the Stav?
One palm ran over my heart, soothing the ache that kept growing. My brother insisted there was a chance we might find each other again. Perhaps when the fighting ended, Nivek would take me on one of his trade journeys to the Night Ledges. He went there often.
I could search for my melder girl again.
When the small skiff sailed into the fog on the fjord, I peeled away from my position in the hedges. I’d plan how I’d find her again soon enough. Right now, Jorvans were in Dravenmoor. I needed to meet Nivek and get back to the palace.
Halfway to our designated meeting point, low voices drew nearer.
Stav Guard?
I made quick work of lungeing behind a tall stone to hide. Gods, how would I signal to Nivek? He might walk straight into them? No. No. My brother was a Dark Watcher, he could find his way. He had to find his way.
Back to the chilled stone, my breaths were sharp and swift. I strained to hear as the voices drew nearer.
Then, I heard Nivek’s voice over the others. “What are you doing here?”
With care, I peered over the top of the stone. Nivek was there, one hand on the pommel of his blade, facing a figure I could not make out in the darkness. Too many damn trees blocked my view.
“Better question is what are you doing here?” The voice sounded like it spoke from beneath a thick cloth, muffled and low.
“Defending the borders of Dravenmoor.”
A low, muted chuckle followed. “No. I don’t think that is true. I think you betrayed your clan tonight.”
My brother sneered. “Well, you would know all about that.”
It happened swiftly. Steel sliced free of leather. Nivek made a move for his blade, but he was not fast enough.
I must’ve screamed when the blade from the shadowed stranger rammed through my brother’s middle, my throat was raw and sore, but I did not hear a word. It was lost to the agony clouding my thoughts.
The stranger ripped the sword back. Nivek staggered for a moment, then slumped to his knees.
“No!” I sobbed. My heart was no longer in my chest. It felt as though my ribs had cracked and I stomped over the last hope anything would go right.
Nivek’s eyes found mine in the darkness. His lips twitched like he might smile, but Salur was cruel and robbed him away before he could.
I scrambled to scale over the rock, watching my brother, my truest friend, my damn hero, fall backward onto the cold soil. Eyes pointed at the stars.
Dead.
“Nivek! No. No, come back.” I wailed and sprinted forward.
I did not make it another two paces before something heavy struck the side of my head, and I didn’t feel the anguish of losing my brother anymore.
Light burned when I cracked my eyes. My body swayed. Overhead was an arched ceiling, dark iron chandeliers hung low. I knew this place…the council room. By the gods, why was I going to the úlfur council room?
Dark Watchers stood on all sides, holding me on a long board. My tunic had been stripped and runes were written down my chest. Panic took hold, tight and sharp, choking air from my lungs.
My melder. The girl. Had they found her? I tried to sit up, but a gentle hand pressed against my heart.
“Lie back, Roark.” Yanson. Gunter’s father looked down at me from beneath his cowl, a wash of something shadowed in his pale eyes. Something was wrong. “It’ll be all right.”
All right? What happened to my melder? Then, like a fist struck me in the side of my head, I remembered. No. No. No.
Nivek.
My brother was gone. No. It had to be a wretched sort of dream.
Tears burned. My body trembled. Blood stained my hands. It festered there like a poison in my soul.
I’d done this, I’d opened my stupid mouth and pleaded to save my melder girl. Nivek was just … he was just trying to be a good brother. Now…now he was dead. I closed my eyes and felt the hot stream of tears slide out of the corners of my eyes.
I hated Salur for taking him. They couldn’t have him. I needed Nivek. I needed my brother.
Unbidden, a sob broke out. I didn’t even care enough to know the Dark Watchers would hear.
Once more, Yanson’s hand fell to my shoulder. I wish he’d look away. There was fear in his eyes and I could not help but think something even more horrid was going to happen.
Torches burned, poisonous flames soaked the stone cavern in wicked shadows that danced like the haunts of the wood. I didn’t know who killed my brother, but it looked like they were going to kill me too for asking him to save my melder girl.
Perhaps I deserved it.
I let my head roll to the side when the board was placed on the ground.
Dark boots and long legs surrounded me, but through the gaps I found her.
My heart rammed against my chest. There, sitting on the ground, her back against the door that led to my father’s private chamber was my mother.
Her hair was down and tangled, her eyes red and wet.
In the hand that hung limp at her side was a knife.
There was blood on the blade. Why was there blood on the blade?
I wanted to scream for her, wanted to know what was happening. Like a whimpering child I wanted to run into her arms and tell her I was sorry, to plead for her forgiveness for slipping out tonight. If I’d stayed put my brother would be alive…but maybe my melder girl would be dead.
The queen looked nowhere but the distant shadows. I was not even certain she knew I’d been brought to the room. One of the cowled Dark Watchers crouched in front of her and spoke something I could not hear.
Light was gone from my mother’s eyes, but she nodded and used the back of her hand to wipe beneath her nose. With the help of the Watcher, the queen was led through the circle of the council.
She knelt beside the board. This near I could see the agony in her eyes, the tears. Still, as my mother always did, she smiled through the pain. With care, she leaned over me and pressed a kiss to my brow.
“My boy.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Hush.” She stroked my hair out of my face, still smiling, but new tears carved down her cheeks.
“Remember this before it is taken from you, this night is not your fault.” She kissed me again, and blew out a rough breath.
“A decision has been made, my boy. One that will take you from me for a time. You will not recall this night, this time. Only your new duty.”
“Will I go to Salur?”
“No. No, but you understand that the power of the soul can be dark and wondrous? You’ve seen it as much as I, yes?”
After a moment, I nodded. I thought she might’ve been speaking of my father and his craft of soul. The darkness that took him. It was mesmerizing and dangerous and powerful. But that was my father. Not me.
“A bond was formed tonight, Roark.” The queen brushed her knuckles down my cheek. “One that is forbidden.”
“I didn’t mean to.” My voice cracked. “I didn’t know, but I couldn’t…I felt it.”
“I know.” The queen lowered her tone when some of the Dark Watchers murmured briskly. “I know how strong it can take hold, my boy. So, the council believes it is time to rid you of that pain. For such a bond cannot be.”
Soul bonds. That is what she meant. A power that seemed to coil around every piece of bone when I saw my melder girl.
But how could a bond fade? I’d always been taught there was no stopping a soul bond should it form.
It did not force itself, but it would always be there, a heat in the heart, a fire in the blood.
A connection that not even Salur could sever.
The Dark Watch nudged my mother away, insisting she step back so they could prepare. Prepare for what? Blood thudded in my head. I made a frantic reach for my mother, but my arms were pinned to my sides.
Two Watchers held me down. I didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to scream like a sod, but I could not stop. I wanted to flee, I wanted my brother!
“My prince, stop. Stop.” Yanson sat at my head, his gaze locked with mine. “Roark, I’m … I’m sorry this… this must be. I will be here at your side through it all.”
In a frenzy, my gaze bounced between the faces of those standing around me. My folk. They were going to do something to me.
Rough ropes were secured to my wrists and ankles, keeping my arms open and feet parted. A soft cloth was wrapped around my mouth, sliding between my lips. Breaths quickened, sharp and jagged. They were trying to muffle screams that were sure to come.
All down my front, bruises from boots and lashes from willow switches while traipsing through the wood cut across my skin in pulpy shades of red and blue. Marks I thought made me part of the Dark Watch.
Now they were about to destroy me.
In ten, maybe fifteen heartbeats, heavy steps thudded into the cavern. One of my father’s inner guards crouched in front of my mother, whispering something I could not make out and cupping the side of her face.
Her darkly painted lips tightened in a thin line, and she nodded.
What? Gods, I wanted to scream at her to take me, to forgive me. I wanted to know she did not hate me.
Shadows brushed past the torches. From the mouth of the bulbous room, men approached, clad in fara wolf heads and pelts. More úlfur. I could not make out who was beneath the mask of the first wolf when he knelt beside me.
“Prince Roark, before we begin with the deledan rite, do you recall where Nivek planned to take the melder?”
My teeth clenched at the mention of Nivek and my melder girl. A tide wanderer. I recalled Nivek shadowing her soul. She’d forget me, no mistake, but she’d live. I needed my melder girl to live.
Someone had stolen my brother, but I would not let them take her.
For the second time in my life, I betrayed my clan.
I shook my head and lied. There would be no mention of the tide wanderer or where my brother sent the girl.
I’d never speak of it. Not even if they sent me to Salur.
Perhaps when I met the hall of the gods, I could tell Nivek all that had happened.
Perhaps I could see my melder girl through the realm of souls.
My mother returned to my side, but now her eyes were different. Strange and foggy, like a storm brewed within.
“Tonight our folk have suffered a fierce betrayal.” A deep, raspy voice bellowed through the chamber.
One I recognized. My uncle’s voice. Virki stood at the foot of the table, a slender knife made of bone in his grip.
“Blood of our royal house allowed a weapon to escape. The risk is now our enemies might find the melder first. We say this with pain in our hearts, but we must prepare to defend our lands now that the melder is once more missing.”
Grunts and shouts and mumbled words rattled in my head.
Virki never looked at me. In truth, I was glad. I’d never admit it to Gunter or Auki, but Virki frightened me. He wasn’t gentle like my father. He was brisk and always spoke like he wanted to kill anyone outside of Dravenmoor.
Even if he had no good reason.
My uncle lifted his voice again. “Do not fear. As a council we have decided to place one of our own in the house of our enemies. Should the melder be found, we will be there to send her to the hall of the gods. This choice is made to give us eyes behind enemy walls.”
My mind raced. Were they…sending me to the Jorvans?
They’d slit my throat. Why would they do this? My father had taken great pains to keep his second son hidden from the other kingdoms, always stating the less Jorvans and Myrdans knew about Dravens the better.
Why reveal the truth now?
At long last, my uncle peered down at me through the eyes of his wolf mask. “To repay what was lost by the hands of the royal house, it will be the royal house who is tasked with this burden. Payment will be made through blood and soul.”
The crowd tightened around me again. My mother pressed one palm over my chest. Her fingers were warm, gentle. Her eyes remained lost to the hazy storm. I knew my mother’s craft was dangerous, but I’d never seen her use it.
Yanson’s fingers dug into my shoulders, he leaned closer, whispering, “Survive this, and it is proof the Norns of fate desire more of you, Roark Ashwood. Survive this, boy. There is more for you to do here.”
The final words came out like a command, sharp and brisk.
Something cold seemed to flow in my veins when old language chants filled the room, a curse I’d heard once before. More chaos spun in my head. Why were they doing this to me? How was it possible?
I tried to swallow the boiling heat rising in the back of my throat, but I shouted around the cloth in my mouth instead. Fire lived under my flesh and I could not stomach it another moment.
Cries of agony rose over the chants. Mine or others, I didn’t know. Somewhere in the murky sounds, I thought I heard my mother’s voice break, wet and thick.
In the next breath, it was as though a molten sword carved through my middle, as though pieces of bone and flesh spilled out of every pore. My thoughts grew hazy. Doubtless, the gates of Salur were opening, drawing me forward.
My spine arched off the board, then…it stopped. I felt as though I hovered over the floor, like I was not entirely present in the room any longer. Shadows blotted out the corners of my eyes, slow and creeping like a haunt in the night.
I rolled my head to one side. For a moment, I thought I saw Nivek there, smiling that sly grin.
I swore I could almost make out the form of my melder girl.
Somewhere in my chest the corded heat that fastened me to her burned to the point of pain.
Like something tugged against it, trying to snap the rope.
Something dark and vicious took hold in my chest. She was mine.
There was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her breathing.
Even if it meant burning it all. Even if it meant betraying my clan again should I survive whatever was carving me to pieces now.
For the silver-eyed melder girl, I’d do every cruel act to keep her.
Before I could reach out to the figure of her standing in the chamber, the hot strike of a blade leveled over my throat. Pain ripped through my flesh. I screamed but no sound came out.
Blood coated my tongue, agony boiled through my veins.
I was at an end. Soon I would meet Salur. In my head, I made a vow to the melder girl wherever she was, I would look out for her. With the aid of the gods in their great hall, I’d see to it no cruel kings and kingdoms ever found my melder.