40. 39 #3
I reached the table, and my hand moved. I grimaced and tried to do anything, anything at all.
I could sense the feeling of my body; I could feel the leather around my socked feet, the belt of my peplos around my waist. I could feel the wood of the handle of that knife as my fingers tensed around it. But I couldn’t do anything.
Trying to release the knife again only made my grip tighter.
I gasped as my body turned back to the circle. “Vasile, please.”
He flinched. Barely, but it was something. I knew he regretted telling me his true name, something of the real soul within the god. Another layer down, something a mortal like me definitely shouldn’t know. “Yes?”
“I will do it. I will do as you ask,” I said, even as my shoulders kept turning, moving me around to face Davian.
He had fallen to his knees, and held the hem of his shirt.
Turn your head, I told myself. Turn your head.
I took a deep breath, and managed to turn my neck enough to look upon the god. “But not now.”
Ragnifort pursed his lips and said nothing.
I prayed, then. To Ekris, to allow me to beg for love. To Samiscus, to spare him from death. Loosen my tongue, please. Let me ask. “Give us ten years together.” The words were heavy, but they sounded into the room. “Let us love, and experience life together.”
My hand clenched around the knife as Davian stilled. My left leg shifted forwards and my teeth ground together.
The god said nothing.
“You didn’t put a time limit on your favour,” I forced out, the words finding footing, my jaw working despite his meddling. “I know I have to do this. I feel it as firmly as my grip on this knife. But please, let us wait.”
Ragnifort narrowed his eyes. “Ten years is too long.”
“What is ten years in the life of a god?” I spat, as I took a step towards the one person I never wanted to hurt. “What is an entire mortal life span to you? We are nothing. We are cattle.”
Ragnifort only shrugged, and I couldn’t discern a hint of emotion. “An intriguing idea. Ten years may not be long for me. But ten years to those at the front, without my weapons and protection. How do you weigh those cattle, Annie?”
Another step. Another.
“I love him,” I said, only two steps from Davian’s kneeling form. “Let us drink. Feast. Enjoy this land, in case we never return.”
Ragnifort was as still as the grave. Davian trembled.
A final step. I stood behind Davian’s back now. My own hand trembled, the white-knuckled grip unyielding around its hilt. The traitorous hand began to rise.
“Please, Vasile,” I said, tears falling as I couldn’t raise my other hand to wipe them away. I could do nothing but raise the knife higher. “Not now.”
Davian leaned forwards, his fingers splaying as he steadied himself against the cold stone. I remembered finding him here, curled up into a ball. I remembered the relief I had felt to find him still alive. Now, I readied to plunge the blade through his ribs.
I screamed, then. Louder than I ever had. It didn’t help anything.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, movement through a blur of terror.
Ragnifort wafted a hand.
It all dropped away. That clawing thing dragging my hand up stopped. The iron will that had pulled my legs here and kept me locked in place disappeared.
I fell to my knees, and the knife clattered deathlessly to the floor, rolling away. The noise echoed through the room. I couldn’t breathe.
My head raised up to the god staring down at the pair of us. Some might see this as a portrait of worship. It was anything but.
Ragnifort studied me, and then he nodded. Only once, but it broke me nonetheless. “You have one year. Next year, when the leaves start to drop, I’ll meet you back here. I’m only granting you this because I don’t want you snivelling your way to the Gate. Snivelling women make for poor conversation.”
Then he left. His steps were quick, and sure, and the last I saw of him was his hood, pulling up over his hair.
Davian turned, the white of his eyes moonlike and haunting.
There was a space. A moment. A gasping breath. Then we were in each other's arms, clutching one another as we revelled in the shock of it all.
“What just happened?”
“I don’t know,” I said, my tears staining his shirt.
“What do we do now?” Davian said.
I pulled back and I stared at him. This lost man, so ready to die, who hadn’t even given himself a month to recover from tragedy.
I cupped his face, and pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth.
“We grieve,” I said, and his eyes clouded.
“We smile sometimes. We heal. We learn how to laugh again. We live for a while, before fire comes knocking.”
He inhaled firmly through his nostrils, blowing the air out through his mouth as he shook in my hands. His voice was strangled, his eyes starry. “Where will we go?”
I might not be a god, but I didn’t lie either. Maybe we would find another way. Maybe he would never catch us. For now, we had a year. Days and days and days. I wouldn’t waste another minute.
I leaned my forehead against his. “Everywhere.”