Chapter 49
Forty-Nine
Sabina
There’s shouting and torchlight glows from somewhere in the hall, making it so I can finally see that there’s several men in our room. Anya is cornered by two, and near the door, Caiden is rising from the ground, a bloody knife in his hand and a dead man at his feet.
I charge toward Anya, then launch myself onto of one of her attackers. He staggers back, nearly falling, but I hold tight. The other man near Anya screams, then the sound turns to a gurgling and I hear a thump.
The man I’m holding twists and swings at me, cursing at me in Iskvalandian. I spit insults back at him as I reach for the knife strapped to his chest.
Over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Anya right before she stabs him. The man’s arms go slack and I lower my legs and release him, managing to jump away just as he collapses to the ground.
Anya stands over the fallen body, panting and covered in blood. The mostly healed scratches across her face are bleeding again and her right eye is already swollen shut.
“Stay here,” Caiden demands.
I reach for Anya and pull her toward me. She steps over the body, then leans on me as she works to catch her breath. We both stare toward the jagged remains of the door as if expecting to see someone else burst through.
There’s commotion in the hall and I lean down to pick up one of the knives dropped by an attacker. Anya still has her knife in her hand.
I give her free hand a quick squeeze, then walk toward the entry. When I peer through the man-sized hole in the door, the only thing I see is the remains of the fight. “There’s a few more dead out there. None of them look like ours.”
She limps toward me and my brow furrows. “You’re really hurt.”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” she says.
“This can’t keep happening,” I tell her. “This is my fault.”
“You didn’t attack me,” she points out.
Footsteps pound and we both tense, weapons at the ready. When Caiden comes into view, my shoulders ease. Stanley walks behind him, both men covered in blood that, from the look of their easy strides, isn’t theirs.
I duck so I can walk through the hole in the door, Anya right behind me. When Caiden reaches us, then blows out a relieved breath. “You’re alright?”
I nod while he scans me for injury, then pulls me into an impossibly tight hug. I hate that I feel better in his arms and I don’t let myself linger. I step away from his embrace. “Anya was hurt, she needs a doctor or matron.”
“I’ll be fine,” she says. “Who were those people? Bandits? Rebels?”
“They were Iskvalandian,” I say.
“Where the fuck is Ludis?” Caiden asks.
“I didn’t see him,” Stanley says. “All the rooms were empty and the tavern cleared out during the attack.”
“He must have fled,” I say. “Do you think he went back to the camp or was he in on this?”
“I don’t know,” Caiden says. “I should have known better than to trust he’d wait until we met with his parents to betray me.”
“You knew he’d do something like this?” I demand.
“Not this, exactly, he really does need you to help secure his position,” Caiden says. “But I suspected he’d try to kill me and put someone else in my place to rule Pendralia after he was on the throne. Keep you there as his puppet.”
“This would have been helpful information,” I say.
“That injury is too close to your eye,” Stanley says, changing the topic. “If it doesn’t heal properly, you could lose it.”
“It’s nothing. Just tore open my old wound,” she argues.
“No, there’s a new one. You really should have it checked,” Stanley insists.
“We can’t stay here.” I grab Anya’s hand. “Come on, we’ll find you a doctor. There has to be someone in town who can help.”
“We have one at camp. He’ll be better with an injury like this than a town healer,” Caiden says. “Can you ride? It’ll be faster than the carriage.”
“I can ride,” she says.
“You’ll ride with Stanley, he’s a better rider. Faster, too,” Caiden explains. “Taylan, you’re with me.”
Anya gives me a look with her good eye that seems to ask if she really heard what he just said. I shrug in response.
Caiden takes my hand in his and starts leading us over the corpses. That’s when I realize that they’re all silent. Not a single one of them speaks to me. Did they all pass in peace? Was I blocking them out? Whatever the reason, I was grateful.
“Where are the rest of the legionaries who came with us?” I ask, seconds too soon.
I hear them seconds before I see them. Agonized voices full of regret and anger.
Some are begging, others praying to gods who aren’t listening.
There’s a few who are confessing. Sharing secrets about lovers and murders and betrayal.
But I can’t make out most of the details as they all talk over each other.
My pulse races and I’m fighting against the onslaught. It’s too many at once. Too much death. All of them seem to be fighting to speak over one another and I don’t know if it’s because they know I can hear them or if that’s just how the dead are.
There’s bodies on the stairs, and more in the hall that leads to the tavern. As we walk past the tables toward the front door, I see a few faces I recognize.
The voices grow louder and I whimper without realizing it. My body tenses and my head throbs. It’s too much. I feel like they’re in my head, vying for dominance over me. The pressure intensifies and I worry my brain might just explode.
Caiden lifts me and I realize I’d stopped moving. He carries me like a bride through the tavern and down the street. As we continue, the voices subside and I regain control of my breathing. My eyes flutter open. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them.
“You can put me down, now,” I say.
He does without a word.
“Are you alright?” Anya asks me.
Her injuries look even worse yet I’m the one who was carried like a helpless child. “Don’t worry about me, please.”
“Here,” Stanley says, pointing to the stables. He hurries over, then calls out orders to a boy who was brushing one of the horses. He drops the brush and begins to prepare Stanley’s horse, the two of them working quickly.
Caiden gets to work preparing his horse and I stand by feeling useless. We never could afford a horse. The carriage ride to the castle was the first time I’d ever even come close to riding one.
Once they’re ready, Stanley helps Anya into the saddle, then climbs on behind her. “We’ll meet you there.”
Caiden nods, then tosses a bag of coins to the boy. His whole face lights up when he catches it. Based on the jingling, it was a generous payment.
“Climb on up,” Caiden says, holding out his hand.
I take a tentative step onto the stool as I’d seen Anya do, then pull myself on to the horse with Caiden’s help. It’s not graceful, but I make it. I’m a little in awe of the beautiful creature and I gently stroke her neck while Caiden climbs on behind me.
“Hold on,” he says as he wraps one arm around me, pulling me against him.
I wish I could enjoy the ride, but I’m so worried about Anya I’m struggling to pay attention to anything else. My hair whips around my face and the wind burns my cheeks.
We’re getting closer to where I think camp is but I still can’t see any fires or torches to identify it.
Then the voices start again. I grip Caiden’s arm as I suck in a breath. There’s so many of them. “Caiden…” Fear tinges the word and he tightens his arm around me.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Hurry.”
He doesn’t hesitate to push our horse faster.
I fight against the onslaught, these voices are pained, tormented. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. And there’s so, so many of them.
“What are we riding into, Tay?” he asks.
“Death, I say. Lots, and lots of death.” I squeeze my eyes shut and beg for silence but there’s no reprieve. I think everyone is dead. All of them. I think we’re riding into a camp full of corpses.
Brevan. Oh, gods. My chest tightens. The thought of his voice being one of those that’s screaming at me is too much.
As we get closer, I see the flickering flames of the torches, burning as if they have no concern over the fact that the people who lit them are gone.
I feel it, the death calling to me. It’s a swirl of desperation and fear. There’s anger laced in there, too, but mostly, it’s despair.
There’s dead legionaries littering the ground, some of them with their own swords sticking out of their chests. I can tell that some of the deceased weren’t with us. Aside from the blond hair that gives them away, their clothing, though not military, isn’t like what we see in Pendralia.
I don’t know how I get off the horse and I think Caiden is speaking to me but I can’t hear him over the din of the dead.
I’m fighting them, though, shoving them away as I scan the bodies with a single-minded focus.
Where is he?
Anya approaches from near where our tent was, her face even more swollen than it was before. Her expression is one of defeat, but there’s not an identifiable sorrow in it. “He’s not here.”
I know who she’s referring to and I nod, agreeing. I can’t feel him here. I don’t hear him and I can’t sense him. It’s insane to think I would, but I know that if he were dead, his voice would be the loudest.
And if he was dead, there’d be nothing I could do, anyway.
Bringing back his corpse wouldn’t be the same as saving him.
The woman standing in front of me needs my help.
I shove away the voices, forcing them back until they’re a quiet roar in my skull.
“We have to get you to a doctor, and we can’t stay here. They could return for us.”
“The winter estate is probably the closest if we don’t find a doctor along the route,” Stanley says.
Caiden makes his way over to us, scanning the surroundings as he walks. I call to him, “Anya needs to return to the winter estate.”
He closes the distance between us. “That’s a good idea. You should go with her, you’ll be safer.” He’s talking to me, but he’s looking at something beyond me.