Chapter 43
HONOR
Though the wind bit at me, forming tears at my lashes, I wouldn’t allow myself to cry. My body ached and my cheeks were wind-chapped, but what good would weeping do? Even as a child, I’d rarely cried despite everything which had happened to me.
The sun was about to set, and I wasn’t headed west like I ought to have been. With the way Petunia ran, screaming in pain every few minutes, I was lucky I had managed to hold on at all. Clinging to her, I used her neck as a shield from the worst of the wind. I could barely see, snow billowing across the plains as it whipped into the air. I’d tried to grip the reins and direct the horse westward like Dewalt had instructed, but she’d nearly thrown me off. I didn’t know what to do. Any idea I came up with seemed likely to end with me on the ground and my neck broken. So, I held fast.
I wouldn’t let myself consider what would happen if I were separated from both the horse and my belongings. On foot, I wouldn’t survive the night. As it was, I’d be lucky to see another sunrise.
And yet, I worried more about Dewalt. I’d seen him fight before—those throwing knives were a force to be reckoned with—but there were so many of the miners and so few of his soldiers. I couldn’t imagine why they would wait to attack us on the road after we’d stayed in the tavern the night before. Every time I chanced a look behind me, I was both relieved and heartbroken no one followed. I was safe from attack, but where was Dewalt? I didn’t know what I would do if something happened to him. It was there, on my fleeing horse in the middle of snow-swept plains, that I realized I couldn’t think of anyone more essential to me. I’d lost so many people, never having many to start with, and the thought of losing him made my blood run cold.
Shallow breaths puffed from my lips in a visible cloud, and I didn’t know how much longer I could continue like this. The expanse in front of me seemed even flatter than the rest, not a single rolling hill to be seen. There was nowhere to seek shelter. When the mare finally slowed her pace, I tried soothing her further by petting her and speaking quietly. I tried gently redirecting her once more, hoping to turn her more toward the west, but she nickered and pulled back—hard. At the same time, I thought I heard a shout, but when I looked behind me, there was nothing but swirling snow.
“Skies above,” I said, and for the first time in quite a few weeks, I considered praying to Rhia. For healing or strength, I wasn’t sure, but unlike the last months, I held no disgust when I thought of her. She wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t help me, but the idea of speaking to the goddess still gave me comfort.
I promise I’ll renew my faith and become a novice again, if only you would heal my horse and protect Dewalt , I thought. I’ll never doubt you again as long as you keep him safe.
I’d bartered through my prayers my whole life, despite many a master reproaching those who spoke to the gods that way. I would promise to be better at something, to be kinder, if only my prayers were answered. Guilt seared my stomach, and I wondered if I’d only been better, would they have listened without a bargain from me? There were so many times in the past when I’d promised something and failed to keep my word after everything had worked out in my favor.
For Dewalt, though, I’d have promised Rhia the impossible, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
“Sweet girl,” I cooed at the horse, patting the left side of her head forcefully, hoping she’d turn away from it, and thus away from the south. “We need to go west, Petunia.” I adjusted in the saddle, and my breath blew out of me as she jolted forward, whinnying in pain. Scrambling for purchase, I realized I must have disturbed the arrow piercing her rump. Perhaps my saddle or pack had moved just enough to irritate it. When her ears went flat and she took off running faster than before, it didn’t really matter why. When her hooves hit wood, I didn’t have time to realize what the noise meant.
One moment, I was gripping the mare’s mane in one hand and the reins in the other, squeezing my thighs as tight as I could to hold on to her. And in the next, there was a brief, loud, cracking sound, before we plunged into ice cold water. I didn’t even have time to scream as I fell from the horse. The water hit my chest, and it felt like a vise—squeezing and squeezing and forcing out any air I held within my lungs. A quick gasp was all I could manage before I went under.
It was dark—so dark and cold.
Thrashing, I managed to get my mouth above water for one last deep lungful of air before I slipped below the frigid water once more. Inanely, even as I fought for the surface, I grew angry at myself. Horses could swim, and I let go when it counted. A weakened human, muscles fatigued, could have stood a chance—if they knew how to swim. A strange calm took over me, and I was certain this would be the way I died.
Opening my eyes beneath the water, I glimpsed Petunia’s large body above me, and I wished she would’ve just kicked me in the head and made it quick.
But I didn’t want to die.
I fought, doing everything I could think of to push my way to the surface. It only made me sink faster. I could barely feel my limbs for the temperature, and my cloak billowed upward, making it so I couldn’t see.
My lungs were burning, and every instinct told me to gasp, to breathe deep.
I almost listened when something grabbed my wrist.
Someone .
Another hand slid beneath my arm, and, though I couldn’t see past the fabric lifting and floating around my face, a vision of Dewalt broke into my mind. It was reminiscent of the moment before he’d kissed me, forehead pressed to mine. I felt the ghost of his fingertips on my face as he spoke, his divinity a mere echo of his touch. If he was afraid, I couldn’t tell.
“I’ve got you. Can you kick your feet for me?”
I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right, my movements stunted by the numbness in my legs, but I attempted to do as he asked. My chest was aching, the last bit of air in my lungs unable to sustain me.
“ Can’t breathe ,” I said in his mind, my terror ebbing into the words.
He tried pushing at my cloak, tugging it down as he pulled me, but it just lifted and swirled around us, making it nearly impossible to move. He started fumbling at my throat, trying to unclasp it with one hand as he held onto me. Blackness pushed at the edges of my vision, but I wouldn’t let him drown too.
“ Let me go ,” I said, not about to let him die alongside me.
He ignored me, continuing to claw at my cloak. With fumbling fingertips, I reached for the clasp, pulling with the last of my strength. When it broke free, the cloak was still floating around us, and I wondered just how bad it would be—to give up. He’d have to let me go, wouldn’t he?
His hand slashed through the fabric, grabbing my neck and guiding my face to his.
Dewalt pressed his mouth over mine and blew. My lips popped open, and I inhaled on instinct as the air went into my lungs. It made me dizzy, but it bought me time.
I was so tired.
He wrapped my arms around his neck, and then he moved. Using his strong muscles, his hands cut through the water, reaching for the surface. I held on the best I could, not wanting him to stop his ascent because I’d failed him.
When we broke through, I gasped, taking in as much air as I could. Heaving breaths sawed in and out of me, bright spots flashing on the edge of my vision. My hair was wet and wild in my face, and Dewalt did his best, trying to brush it off my nose and out of the way. I choked, water splashing into my mouth as he kept us afloat.
“I’ve got you, songbird,” Dewalt said, rough and raw. He hauled me closer, grabbing my face with his hand. “I’ve got you, Nor. Breathe, love.” Even as I sputtered and coughed, he pressed a kiss to my temple. A soft sigh fell from his lips, and I wrapped my legs around him, his body pressed flush against me.
He’d saved me.
Dewalt adjusted my arm around him, tenderly, and yet I cried out in pain. My shoulder was so sore, and, in a panic, I searched for Petunia with wild eyes. “My pack,” I croaked. “The salve.” And when I didn’t see her, I started to cry. Great heaving sobs poured out of me, and I burrowed my face into Dewalt’s neck. I’d nearly died, and I wasn’t truly safe yet, but the loss of the only thing which brought any ease to my pain was what made me break.
“I’ve got it, Nor. Your pack is in the wagon, remember? But I put the salve in mine. I’ve got it,” he said against my ear as he pulled us through the water. Something like a moan ripped from my lungs—relief, hot and visceral. I tried to calm down after that, but by then it was too late. I couldn’t stop. I sniffled, holding onto him as tightly as I could until he gently detached my arms from his neck.
“Can you lift her?” Dickey’s voice made me choke on my tears, and my crying renewed. Between the two of them, I was out of the water within a moment. Hands braced on the ground, I coughed hard enough I was afraid I was going to vomit. When Dewalt hauled himself onto the ground beside me, a dull thunk made me realize we were on a wooden dock. I was furious; that wretched horse had jumped right off it into a frozen lake. But could I blame her? If I couldn’t tell it was water, neither could she.
“Come on. We have to get—” Dewalt’s voice cracked as his teeth began to chatter. “We have to get warm.” Hot tears rolled down my face, and they stung, making me whimper. When I didn’t move, Dewalt crouched in front of me, lifting a hand to my chin. “Did you know actual pigeons can’t swim either?”
I barked out a laugh of surprise, groaning over his joke and my pain and everything that had happened. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, and drops of water trickled down his nose, but he grinned at me, and I smiled back. Both of us were alive and whole, and he’d saved me.
That sweet honeysuckle feeling which had taken root in my chest nearly spilled over, with words I couldn’t say blooming on my tongue.
“I-I don’t know if I can stand,” I said instead.
Dickey walked past us, following what I now knew to be a shoreline. When I realized he was trying to lure my injured, panicked mare to the water’s edge, a surprised chuckle knocked loose from me. “She’s a b-better s-swimmer than me.” A strong gust of wind tore over us, and my shaking grew more forceful. Dewalt seemed to move on instinct, adjusting to the wind to shelter me.
“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s get somewhere warm.”
And then he was gathering me up in his arms, so deliberate and careful in his motions that I swallowed hard, affection rolling hot and heavy up my throat. I forced myself to stifle it. He placed me atop his horse before wrapping a dry cloak around my shoulders—Dickey’s I supposed.
“Where are the others?”
“Fletcher, ah, Fletcher needed tending. They’re in a cave near the road,” he answered.
“W-will he be all right?” I asked, and it took him a moment to weigh his words before Dewalt nodded, his mouth a grim line. The hesitation tainted his answer. “Why did they attack us?” I asked.
“Penellion’s men liked to talk when they drank,” he explained, and if I wasn’t so tired, I would have wept. We kept paying for my mistake.
There was a loud thrashing as Petunia clambered out of the lake, and I gasped when her front legs splayed out as she was unable to find purchase.
“Fuck,” Dewalt murmured.
“What? She’ll be fine, r-right?” I asked, even as I watched her struggle to gather her limbs beneath her, favoring her front right leg. He didn’t answer me, picking up his sword from the ground where he must have discarded it to jump in after me. “Is she lame? Are you g-going to k-k—are you going to kill her?” My whole body shook.
“She took an arrow and r-ran for the b-better part of an hour before f-falling into f-frigid water. I’d be surprised if she w-wasn’t.” Dewalt’s body shuddered. His hair was sopping, just as mine was, but his dripped right into his collar. He looked older than usual, staring at the horse with a deep frown. My useless mind wandered, fuzzy curiosity about what he might look like as he aged, before I realized what he meant to do. The grip on his sword tightened as he took a step forward, and I couldn’t let that happen.
“B-but she survived!” I argued. “She’s resilient. You c-cannot kill her.” I struggled to dismount, but Dewalt put his free hand on my leg, stopping me.
“Nor, I’m n-not going to k-kill us while we argue over it.” He tilted his head as he looked up at me, and there was a plea behind his dark eyes. He didn’t want to put her down either. I nodded, chest tight, giving him permission. When he turned away from me, walking toward the mare, I felt my indignance melt away. It wasn’t as if he wanted to do it. We weren’t capable of caring for her, and this would be a mercy. Hidden by his jokes and his intimidating strength, he had a soft heart—I knew that now.
Instead of arguing, I murmured a prayer to Rhia, asking her to look after Petunia on her journey to the eternal lands. Perhaps it was my exhaustion, but speaking to the goddess felt natural. I frowned, irritated with myself for how much I missed that ease. Despite my anger with the gods, my whole identity had been built on service to them. Without that, part of me had been missing. Did I still need them? I decided I would think about it later, when I wasn’t struggling to stay awake. While waiting, my eyelids grew heavy, and I watched Dewalt through narrowed eyes as he pointed toward the darkening sky.