Chapter 36 Waiting
Waiting
As far as Ayla could learn from the men, the Queen’s army was constructing something that might pose a problem.
Niel had returned from a parley with his brother, met her eyes for a moment across the yard as he removed his helmet, and then walked off with Kerr.
He hadn’t been in his room after, nor the kitchen or the sentry-wall, and when one of the soldiers had finally asked her if he could be of some assistance, she’d blushed and pretended she was merely stretching her legs.
The idea of the man telling Niel she’d been all over the castle looking for him like a lost duckling made her wish to climb into the smallest hole she could find.
She helped cook that night, working in companionable near-silence with a soldier who hummed softly to himself while chopping bowl after bowl of winter vegetables. When the smell of cooking brought groups of men into the warm kitchen, Niel followed on their heels.
The knight’s expression looked solemn as ever.
His dark hair was pulled severely back, gathered low at the base of his neck.
He scanned the room for a moment as Ayla made a point of looking busy at the fire.
She wondered when she’d gotten so self-conscious around him, when every day of the last week had seen her more and more comfortable in his presence.
But she could not forget the way his mouth had felt on hers, and his arm around her waist, holding her close against him.
She had thought, during her marriage to Ditmar, that she was no longer capable of feelings like longing or arousal.
But it seemed Niel was perfectly able to make her feel all that and more.
Her hand settled against the cooking pot for a moment as she bit her lip, remembering the way he’d pulled her so tightly against him.
Then she jerked back with a quiet hiss and shook her hand cool.
The men began to get their food. She helped ladle bowls, passing out meals as the soldiers crushed into the kitchen.
When Niel approached, she offered him a weak smile and his food, and he offered back a nod of thanks, his mouth grim.
The sounds of chatter were soon replaced by chewing and scraping spoons.
Ayla dished herself up, leaning against the counter beside the cooking fire and picking at her food.
“Before anyone leaves,” Niel said, as the other men abruptly quieted.
She looked up to find the doorways were crowded with soldiers, who’d eaten standing instead of retreating to other rooms, all focused on Niel.
“I know it’s an odd way to make an announcement, but you ought to hear it now. Kerr’s telling the men on the wall.”
Ayla gripped the spoon in her hand and watched the way he met each of the men’s eyes.
“We don’t know if they’re building a siege engine, but they could be. And if they aren’t, they’ll get the idea soon enough. And if they don’t, we only have as long as our supplies. You all know my father sent a messenger, but he… well, we can no longer count on help coming from Mount Eyron.”
The men couldn’t stay silent at that. The crowd shifted, whispering and looking at each other.
“They’re leaving us here?” one of the men nearest her asked.
“Did Eyron fall?” another asked, terror in his voice. “My wife and—”
“Eyron stands. But I gave the Queen’s army terms for a surrender today,” Niel said, raising a hand to quiet the men again. “They have until tomorrow morning to respond. If they say no, well, we’ll figure something out. Mayhap we can make our own tunnel out of the castle, or…” he trailed off.
“What terms?” a man called.
“That none of you would face execution or hard labor. That if you are made prisoner, it would not last past the end of the war. It may sound like a bitter deal, but it is the best I think we could get.”
“Rather go out fighting than rot in a cell,” one of the men said, across the room. She heard a chorus of ‘aye’ from some of the men, though others just looked uncomfortable.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Niel answered. “I have learned that no matter how grim or pointless life comes to seem, you never know what may happen after that. It is better to live than to die pointlessly.”
This was met with silence. Ayla’s throat was so tight it was all she could do to remind herself to breathe.
“And you?” one of the men called.
“We will see. But I…” Niel frowned more deeply for a moment, and Ayla watched him wet his lips.
“It was by my leadership that we did not make it home to Eyron. For my part, I am sorry I failed you. But I would rather we reach a favorable surrender than see the walls stormed and you men slaughtered because I did not know when to admit defeat. Make your peace tonight, but do not be wasteful with the supplies. This may all end tomorrow, or we could be here months yet.”
He caught Ayla’s eye and nodded his head towards the hallway.
She set her nearly-empty bowl down on the counter and hurried to make her way through the press of men in the kitchen.
The temperature dropped as she left the crowd for the dark hallway, but Niel was there.
He’d been waiting for her, but as soon as he saw her following he turned and walked again.
Ayla trailed behind him until they were around the corner.
“Niel,” she said as he reached the stairwell.
It was dim in the hallway, the lanterns sparsely lit only so that someone without a light could make it from one area to the next. She could tell he had stopped, and was looking her way, but she couldn’t make out the expression on his face.
“You said months,” she told him. There was an ache in her chest. “Just last night. You said we could last months.”
“I know.” Niel’s voice sounded tired. “I wanted it to be true. But the odds that my brother is up to something are… I can’t put everyone here at risk simply because I don’t want this to end.”
“But I don’t want it to end either,” Ayla whispered, feeling foolish and selfish for saying such things.
It wasn’t just the uncertainty with Ditmar, and what it would mean to leave the castle, though somehow the place of her torment had instead become a place of safety and refuge.
It was Niel, and her fear for him. She did not think the Queen would look at a traitor with any kindness, even if she was Niel’s aunt.
His hand reached for her in the dark. She let her eyes fall closed as Niel’s fingers found her chin. His touch was light as he ran the pads of his fingers up the side of her face. Ayla shivered. Love was supposed to feel good, and beautiful. Not like somebody was ripping a hole in her chest.
“Niel, what will happen to you?” she asked.
“There was talk of exile,” he said. She felt herself relax slightly.
Exile was not such a terrible fate. It was better than a noose.
“But my brother thinks too highly of the Queen. I doubt she will allow that,” he continued.
“She may demand a public execution. We will see. But you’ll be free of Blackfell, either way. I swore that, and I meant it.”
“Then you should not surrender,” she whispered. “Please, Niel. There must be another way.”
“Spend the night with me?” Niel whispered. “We have that, at least.”
He had not agreed. Was he not willing to?
Ayla felt like she couldn’t breathe, but she took his hand from her face and nodded. Niel turned and led her up the stairs. Every step felt heavy.
He let go of her when they reached his room, and she stood just behind him as Niel crouched to stir the embers back into flame.
She watched him settle the logs in place, unclasp his cloak, and stand, turning to face her.
With a muffled sob Ayla stepped up against him, her cheek to the cold metal of his plate armor.
Niel, seeming surprised, put his arms around her, but Ayla pulled back a moment.
“Take this off. Please?” she asked, a hand to the metal over his chest. Niel nodded.
He removed his sword belt and freed the clasps of his armor, his hands practiced and fast, reminding her how clumsily she’d tried to disharness him in his illness.
The cuirass clanked loudly as he dropped it on the floor behind him.
And then Ayla was back in his arms, her cheek pressed against his heart and his hands tight on her back.
She shuddered against him as the fire warmed their sides, and tried to make sense of a world that would not stop spinning terribly.
She knew Niel had always expected the war to be his end, but she could not find peace in that.
Even Ditmar had not made her feel so powerless as the army outside did. She wanted Niel to live. She wanted to wash the army outside the castle away with nothing more than a sweep of her hand; wanted to spirit Niel away to some safe land, where he could finally live in peace.
But she did not have the power to do anything at all.
“Last night, you said there was no sense worrying about problems that were months away,” Niel said. She could feel the rumble of his words in his chest as he held her. “Tonight, can we…”
“You do not wish to think of tomorrow,” she suggested, her voice cracking.
“No,” Niel agreed. “But I do wish to kiss you again, if you will let me.”
She tilted her chin up to him. Niel made a soft sound, in the back of his throat, and let go of her with one hand so that he could gently wipe the tears from her cheeks with his thumb.
“You’re crying?” he whispered.
“Please, do not try to comfort me,” she whispered back. “Not right now.”
“Ayla.” His hand cupped her face. “You won’t go back to him. It is a condition of the surrender that I duel him.”
After all this, did he really think she was more worried about her own safety than she was about Niel’s life?
Oh, true, she still feared Ditmar, and he would probably try to kill her for what she’d said in front of the crowd, but she would fight back now without hesitation.
Niel had monsters of his own, and she was not the one surrendering.
She drew a shaky breath and shook her head, but Niel continued before she could find her voice.
“I never told you this, but I have a cloak made of unicorn’s hide. It can turn its wearer invisible. Kerr used it to draw Blackfell away from the castle. If I somehow fail to kill him, or it goes wrong some other way, you can use it to travel unseen.”
She remembered the strange white leather one of his men had returned to him after leading Ditmar away. Unicorn. She’d be disgusted at the thought if she were any less worried for Niel. Ayla was shaking her head at him, but Niel just kept going.
“It’ll be hard traveling in winter. You’ll want to go west, or south. Avoid the Hulder wood. Unicorns have strong magic, but there are things there powerful enough to see right through—”
“Niel,” she begged, grabbing him by the tunic, and he paused. “You can use it to escape.”
“No. If I don’t take responsibility for this, they will be harder on my men.”
“But you can’t just let them kill you.”
His jaw was set stubbornly.
“It will be what it will be. I swore you’d be safe from him. With the cloak, you…”
“I’m not crying over him,” Ayla said fiercely. “Do you really think that’s the only thing on my mind?”
“I’d understand if it were,” Niel admitted, frowning down at her.
“Please say you’ll use it to escape,” she said. “You must.”
Niel stared down at her for a long moment, and she saw him swallow.
“We don’t know yet what my brother will say. Perhaps he will reject the terms altogether. There is nothing to do tonight. Please, Ayla…”
He was begging her to not press the matter. She wasn’t going to forget and let him throw himself into danger just to give her a protection she might not even need, but he wanted tonight, and she could not deny him that.
Ayla drew a deep breath and nodded reluctantly.