Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
C osmo and Leofric sat bound, back-to-back, stripped of clothing and armor. He could feel the sweat of Leofric’s skin, dripping between his own shoulder blades. The outlaws had left them in nothing but their subligaria to keep their modesty whilst they picked over their clothing. Cosmo’s jewelry had the men arguing, heated, over which pieces they would keep.
“What sort of man wears this much gold?” One asked, throwing Cosmo a weird look.
“They have some sick shit going on between them, I do not doubt,” said another, the one who had found them…arguing.
Leofric seethed where he sat behind Cosmo; he could feel it. The tension in his muscled back vibrating, setting Cosmo’s own teeth on edge. Cosmo felt guilty for goading him and elated in equal measures. He had seen it in Leofric’s eyes; he’d been about three heartbeats away from spinning Cosmo against the tree and having him then and there.
But of course, their new friends had had to interrupt. Naturally. And why couldn’t Leofric…do what he wished? What wasn’t Leofric telling him?
Cosmo eyed the outlaws. Perhaps they had more pressing concerns. He wasn’t truly afraid; he was confident that with the power of his grace he could send them scurrying like mice. But Leofric had not wished to expose what he called Cosmo’s “sorcery.” Tensions between Papia and órnio were mounting, to hear Leofric tell it. He’d complained at length about the órnian king, its armies, and the devious tactics of both. If Leofric were to be believed, the kingdom of órnio was singularly populated by villains and scoundrels. Cosmo had never been there, and could not verify Leofric’s claim, but based upon his current situation he had to admit he was willing to believe it.
One of the men had been most interested in Leofric’s armor. “Sokolian, or I’m the bloody queen,” he said, eyeing Leofric with suspicion. “What is a Sokolian legionary doing this deep in Papia?”
Leofric did not answer, but Cosmo could feel the tension shifting in his back. He’d summoned that eerie calm he had, the stony demeanor that made it seem as though his body were merely an empty shell.
“No answer, eh?” said one of the others. “Take an ear, he’ll tell you then.”
Cosmo trembled. He did not wish to see Leofric maimed—but the only way to prevent it would be for Cosmo to unleash his grace to break their bonds, and he’d be maimed then in any case. With so much of their skin touching the resulting burns would be excruciating. Luckily, the man picking over Leofric’s armor said, “Not worth dulling your blade,” he said, disgusted. “I’ve known such shits to bite their own tongue off when put to the question, rather then betray any paltry secret they might carry.” The man frowned, digging beneath the steel of one of Leofric’s bracers. “What’s this?”
From within a secret compartment, he drew a folded parchment.
At that, Leofric stirred, twisting against the rough ropes that bound them back-to-back, but he did not speak.
“Give it here,” said one of the others—and Cosmo saw he was the man with the ring of black feathers tattooed about his neck like a collar. Perhaps as a sergeant, he was the only one amongst them who could read.
He paced around, out of Cosmo’s line of sight, but Cosmo could hear his footsteps circling closer, and Cosmo craned his neck to make attempt to see him.
“This letter,” said the sergeant loudly, so all his men could hear, “Says that this man here is about His Highness’s business. Important mission for the crown, it says.”
The mood around the campfire changed instantly. Cosmo felt it, and he was certain Leofric did too. Where before they had been simple travelers, of no consequence to be robbed blind and left to wander naked back to town, now he and Leofric were dangerous. He knew then that these men would not allow them to leave the fireside alive.
“What else does it say?” one of the other men asked.
“A load of nonsense,” the sergeant said, scanning the paper. “It makes mention of a deception, a mission beyond Papian borders, and a great sum of gold.”
“Beyond Papian borders?”
“Aye,” said the sergeant. “That’s what it says here.”
“That could mean anything,” said one of the others, the one who’d first held the paper.
“Or nothing,” said yet another. The men began muttering amongst themselves. Cosmo could discern anger, greed, and a bit of fear.
The sergeant drew his dagger and pointed it at Leofric. “Tell us the meaning of this,” he said, “And we’ll consider letting you live.”
Leofric remained mute, so Cosmo took his cue from him and held his tongue as well.
The sergeant scanned the paper again. “It seems this missive holds great value to you,” he said. “You would be nothing but a discharged and shamed soldier without it, yes?”
Still, Leofric did not speak.
“You will tell us of your mission,” he said, his voice ringing with authority.
Leofric was not moved. He could have been carved of stone, unconcerned, almost bored to look at him. Cosmo could not help but admire his composure.
“Alright,” said the man, after staring at Leofric long and hard. “We will get nothing from him. He was trained with the other savage Sokolians. Most like he cannot even read this missive, but is meant to deliver it to better men.”
He stood, and held the parchment in one hand, dangling it precariously over the cookfire.
“No!” Leofric cried, startling Cosmo, who truly expected him to remain silent until these men slit his throat.
“No?” the órnian sergeant lowered the paper, closer and closer to the tongues of flame.
Leofric twisted frantically against the ropes, but it served him nothing except to dig the bindings deep into the muscles of his arms.
Cosmo had to act swiftly. He reached out with his grace toward the kernels of heat at the heart of the fire, and pulled. Fire did not like to travel through the earth, without the air to strengthen it. He pulled again, harder, coaxing it. It bent to his will, as did all things of light and flame, and the fire dimmed.
The sergeant did not notice, so intent on trying to part Leofric from his secrets.
Cosmo pulled again, and again, the fire slowly retreating, diminishing, its heat traveling down into the earth until it was entirely extinguished and the entire campsite thrown into darkness.
“What on earth?—”
Three of the men crouched beside the fire, poking amongst the embers that had, to their eyes, suddenly stopped working. Fires did not often dwindle absent cause, so they leaned in closer to have a look. The sergeant looked toward Leofric and Cosmo, a strange look on his face. He tucked the parchment into his belt. “We will bring them to the Imperator,” the Sergeant decided. “He will want to question them himself, to learn what mission the kingdom of Papia is perpetrating beyond its own borders. If they are moving with Sokol against us, he will want to know immediately.”
Cosmo twisted his head, to see the shadows that meant several of the men still fussed with the dead, smoking remains of their fire. The Sergeant had moved away, barking orders to get it relit, and to prepare the prisoners for transport.
“ Do it, ” Leofric muttered.
“Do—do what?”
“You can free us, can you not?”
“With my grace?”
“Yes,” said Leofric. “Quickly. We must escape.”
Cosmo frowned. “You will be burned.”
“And I expect it will hurt a great deal,” Leofric agreed, “but we are short of time. Do it. ”
“I am working another notion,” Cosmo said.
“Then work it, ” hissed Leofric. “And see us freed.”
Cosmo waited until several of the men had leaned in to inspect the fire, waiting, waiting, and then—the fire burst forth in a terrible conflagration from the dormant embers, and the night air was suddenly filled with screams and the smell of burning flesh. With another surge of his power, Cosmo summoned his grace to the surface of his skin, letting it grow hot enough that the ropes that bound himself and Leofric took flame at once. They struggled against one another, waiting for the ropes to give, and Cosmo could feel the heat against his arms, his chest. His grace was proof against burns, but he understood that Leofric’s pain would be terrible.
Finally, the ropes snapped, and Leofric didn’t let the burns slow him down. He lurched to his feet and bowled over the sergeant. Cosmo rolled to the side, scrabbling on the ground for a weapon and coming up with a stick. As soon as his hand closed around it, the wood caught fire and he swung it with all his strength into the face of their nearest captor. The man screamed, clawing at his burning face, and Cosmo collided with him, shoving his shoulder into the man’s gut to send him sprawling on the ground.
He whirled to see Leofric standing over the gutted órnian sergeant, a bloodstained blade in one hand and his parchment from Prince Alexios in the other. In the chaos, Cosmo ran to the horse lines, cutting all but his own. The fire, the screaming, the blood, it had the outlaws’ horses going mad with fear, and as soon as they realized they were free they took off into the trees. Most of the men still standing ran after their mounts, and Cosmo was able to grab his pack. Leofric joined him, and swiftly they sorted through the Outlaws’ stolen goods, searching for Leofric’s gold and the rest of their effects. “Cover me,” Cosmo said, tossing Leofric the sword he’d only just reclaimed. “I’ll find your coin.”
Most of the outlaws were injured, dead, or fled, but there were four men still trying to beat the flames off their compatriots. Leofric caught the hilt one handed and charged off without a word, a sword in each hand, and with the men otherwise occupied, Cosmo wasn’t worried.
About Leofric, anyway.
Ignoring the sounds of violence behind him, Cosmo dug through the bags until he found several leather bags stuffed fat with coins. One of the outlaw’s saddlebags lay open in the pile, so Cosmo filled it as fast as he could, and then mounted Hestia, who mercifully was still saddled. They’d hobbled Lyra half a mile off from where they’d been spying on the camp; hopefully she was still there. Leofric hammered away at one of the last few soldiers, and as Cosmo galloped across to meet him, two of the other men made move to flank him. Cosmo rode one down and Leofric spun and took the sword arm off the other. When Cosmo extended a hand to pull Leofric up into the saddle behind him, he grabbed it without hesitation, his hand warm and slick with blood.
Cosmo gave Hestia his heels and they took off from the outlaws’ camp at a wild gallop, charging heedlessly into the night.
When they reached the place they’d tied Lyra’s lead, they paused only long enough for Leofric to switch mounts and took off again. Cosmo thought it unlikely that the outlaws would form up and chase after them, but he supposed it didn’t hurt to be cautious. They rode through the night, hard and fast, until the pink light of dawn began to bleed through the trees. Now that he could see somewhat, Cosmo found himself staring at Leofric’s back as he rode ahead, blistered and burned from its contact with Cosmo’s flesh. From here, he could not see the wounds the ropes had left, but he knew they would be ghastly as well.
The sun had well and truly risen before Cosmo found the courage to suggest a halt. The cast to Leofric’s face was grim and drawn, and he gave a terse nod. They found a place where a little river fed a pond, a cluster of rocks providing good shelter to the north.
“We need to rest the horses,” Leofric agreed, “And examine what we were able to escape with.”
“I believe I got all of your coin,” said Cosmo. “Unless His Highness drastically overpaid you for the service of escorting me to Mount Hiru.”
Leofric looked at him, and for a second Cosmo was afraid Leofric was going to start shouting at him, but instead, he burst out laughing. It was a wonderful sound, and despite everything Cosmo found himself matching it. They laughed themselves breathless, and Cosmo nearly fell from the saddle as he tried to dismount. Leofric’s laughter guttered out as he swung down from his horse as well, and a grimace ripped across his face, the pain of his wounds finally catching up with him. His chest was awash in horrific blisters, and charred skin the pattern of them continued around his upper arms like toques.
Their bags and belongings were in complete disarray, so Cosmo simply dumped everything out in front of them, searching for something he could use to bind Leofric’s wounds. He heard a stifled groan behind him and whipped around to see Leofric attempting to set up a camp, and with every movement blood and pus oozed from the burns on his chest.
“Will you just sit? ” Cosmo snapped.
Leofric huffed, hesitated, and then—to Cosmo’s amazement—sat heavily with a grunt.
Finally, Cosmo found what he was looking for, a salve made from tea tree oil would help stave off infection, and hopefully provide something of a cooling sensation. It would sting, but with that sting would come healing. Accidental burns had been fairly common around Cosmo during his adolescence, and he’d learned of almost every possible cure under the sun.
They waded into the water. In the center of the lake, it came up to Leofric’s hips. It was a bit deeper for Cosmo, who was shorter, but still shallow enough that he could stand. They stripped their sooty, bloody subligaria off and tossed them aside. Mutely, Cosmo used a square of clean linen to clean Leofric’s back, and the sides of his arms. “I have hurt you yet again,” said Cosmo, almost to himself.
“I asked you to,” said Leofric. His muscles trembled at even the gentlest touch, but he raised no word of complaint. “You saved us.”
“I suppose,” said Cosmo. He kept his eyes downcast, avoiding Leofric’s gaze as he was forced to step in closer to cleanse the torn skin upon his bare chest.
But Leofric stooped, seizing Cosmo’s wrists. “No,” he said. “You did. The trick with their cookfire was a clever one, and I wouldn’t have been able to defeat so many without your help.”
The sincerity in his words, the intensity in his eyes, made Cosmo uncomfortable. “Plainly this pain is making you delirious,” he said, trying to make light.
“No,” Leofric said again. “You saved that coin. You could have run off. You could have left it.”
Cosmo shrugged. “It was important to you,” he said.
Leofric studied Cosmo as if seeing him for the very first time. “Your jewels,” he said suddenly.
“What?”
“All of your golden trinkets,” he said. “You left them all behind.”
Cosmo looked down at himself. “I suppose I did,” he said. “They didn’t really matter to me. Only…”
“Only what?”
“There was one ring, a gift from my brother. It was his, and he gave it to me.”
“Auro’s?”
Cosmo looked away. “Kryos.”
“You kept your bother’s ring? The man who tried to kill you?”
“He’s still my brother,” Cosmo said. “Was. Is. I don’t know. Regardless, it held meaning to me. Now hush. Your back is a horror and I need to make sure it heals properly, or I’m certain I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Leofric smiled softly, and Cosmo had to look away. He suddenly felt aware of how close they were standing, and how naked they were. Very naked. When he tried to push the thought away, washing the blood from Leofric’s skin, he recalled something. He let his hands linger on the skin below Leofric’s ribs, mercifully unmarred by fire, and said quietly, “Why couldn’t you…”
“Why couldn’t I what?”
“Do…do what you wanted. Those things you wanted. That you said, before. Before the men attacked. The outlaws. Why?—”
“Because…I’m married.”