Chapter 51
Fifty-One
A muted sunrise peeks in as a scream of agony comes from the manor’s kitchen.
Thrak grips the edges of the wooden table with his white fingertips while Verity sews a bloody gash along his ribs.
The needle shines in the morning rays from the window before it again plunges into his green skin.
He squirms and moans for his mother, causing Verity to pull the thread taut.
She barks, “Hold him down! Don’t let him move! ”
Rett braces him on one side while I do the same on the other. Our eyes meet in the middle, but we refrain from interrupting the work. The soldiers’ severe wounds have stopped us from leaving as planned—two battles in such a short amount of time have been devastating to the orc warriors.
Verity finishes as he lies limply on the table. I imagine the pain is too great for him to talk. All I can do is thank the Spirit Goddess that he’s still alive.
As she stows her tools away, she orders, “Take him into the parlor and lay him down with the others.”
Rett heaves him upward, bracing him to prevent further damage to his wound. Verity shoves a wad of linens at my chest, and I follow Rett with a nauseated, sinking feeling in my stomach.
Once pristine, the beautiful mahogany parlor is now covered with bandaged orcs sprawled out anywhere they can find space. Rett eases Thrak down onto a pallet of wool blankets by the paneled wall.
The elderly cook wipes her hands on her apron. “If they don’t stay and tend to their wounds, half of them will be dead before they reach the border.” Yellow and orange eyes shoot worried glances around the room at Verity’s words.
“You heard the woman. Everyone is to remain here. Heal—and protect your hosts from future attacks if it comes to it.” He nods to me. “I’ll take Queen Tabitha to the Beast Realm as planned. Once we’re there, we’ll bring back more horses and aid.”
Gorrash and the others give their agreement while Verity douses wounds in a salve that emits an atrocious stench.
* * *
While everyone is grateful that I’ve killed Metalla’s soldiers, there is a rippling fear they can’t hide. It’s a tangible unease hanging in the air when they see me. It suffocates me, pressing down on my conscience.
I try not to focus on the sounds of the girls scrubbing the walls of the hallway as I bathe. My water turns a filthy, reddish-brown color, resembling mud.
The scrub, scrub, scrubbing grows louder and louder until I plunge under. Sooner or later, I’ll have to accept the fact that I’m responsible for more deaths.
That a pattern is starting to form.
After dressing in a new instructor gown, I leave the manor and step into the yard to finish loading the horses with provisions. Across the lawn, Alisse helps Robert bury the dead soldier’s bones under the wilting rosebushes. Their foreheads glisten with beads of sweat with each shovelful of soil.
Alisse’s glow dims, flickering with the stress from last night. Dropping to my knees, I try to help dig the hole, dirtying my freshly cleaned hands. She elbows me out of the way, sharp and hard, before curling her lip and muttering under her breath, “I reckon you’ve done enough, don’t you think?”
Wincing, I back away. “I kept them from stealing more girls—from stealing you. I’m not sure what else you want from me.”
“Do you plan on stopping General Metalla’s revenge when he finds out his missing soldiers were last seen here? When he sends new soldiers to replace these?” She gestures toward the scattered bones piled behind her.
“Should I let them have their way next time?” I rub my temples, my headache pounding into my eardrums. Every muscle in my body hurts, especially my arms, thighs, and back.
“I didn’t say that. But—but your witchcraft will haunt this place; mark my words.” She lowers her voice so only I can hear her. “You might have everyone else fooled, but Vennisa warned me about what you did.” Her eyes glare at me accusingly. “And now you leave us to clean your mess!”
I stumble further away, tripping on a fallen branch, not knowing how to defend myself.
Near the packed horses, Rett gives Beatrix the Achlys Dagger. With a glance and a quick nod of thanks, she tucks it into her apron pocket and puts a supportive hand on his red-armored shoulder.
With tears welling in my eyes, I reach to hug Beatrix, but she flinches as she embraces me—something I’ll never forget for as long as I live.
It leaves me speechless and wounded. She turns quickly, hiding her face.
I’m only left with the waves of honey hair and amethyst skirts as she returns to the shadowed front door.
We mount our horses, and they take us away, the manor growing smaller and smaller until it’s only a little pinprick in the hilly distance.
My spotted mare trots behind Rett’s charcoal-gray stallion. Relieved he’s ahead, I let the tears fall free as shame floods my heart.
I’m a killer.
They deserved it—the reasoning pounds through my mind over and over again until my jaw aches from grinding my teeth.
I remember the girl with corn-yellow hair on the prison wagon.
A racking sob shakes my ribs. Rett twists his head and looks over his shoulder. He leaps from atop his horse in an instant, vanishes, and reappears at my side.
He pulls me gently from the saddle and into the open field.
The tall grass hides us from the world while I cry and gasp until I think I’ll throw up, but Rett wraps his arms tightly around me. His warm hands run over my braided hair and down the back of my wool cloak.
He straightens my circlet and soothes, “It’s okay. It’s okay. And even if it doesn’t seem like it, it will still be okay. You will survive. You will get through this.”
“But the way they looked at me—the way they feared me,” I choke out, chest heaving.
“I’m used to people’s judgments, but this is different.
This makes me feel monstrous.” He withdraws a handkerchief from his satchel and hands it over.
Between blowing my nose and gasping for air, I whisper, “I’m never going to be able to control this power.
It’s either too weak or too strong. What if I hurt someone innocent next time? ”
“First of all, being a monster isn’t so bad,” he says gently. “Second, you did the right thing. You saved those girls. It’s not like you have a habit of killing for fun. You aren’t a murderess.”
My eyes go wide, and I blubber, “You don’t understand what I’ve—” I wonder if he can comprehend me through my thick and garbled emotions, my voice unintelligible.
He holds me again until my breathing slows down.
“None of us can predict the consequences of taking action. You did something most people can’t do.
You fought back. Some go their entire lives without the courage to act.
” He pulls me to my feet so I can look into his concerned face.
“And you conquered your enemies, even if you had to unleash a terrible power to do it.”
“But—but—why do I have this inside of me? Where did it come from?” He wipes away the tears from my swollen eyes.
“I don’t have that answer, and you may never learn why. All you can do is wield it with a good heart and pure intention.”
“How? If I am unable to control it?” I remember my words of encouragement to Elodie, and my cheeks burn with more shame. I can’t even take my own advice—I’m a fraud. A fake. A pretender.
“You will have to train yourself. Start by stilling and quieting your mind and then branch out from there.”
I wipe the dirt and grass off my skirts. “Calming my mind isn’t realistic right now.”
He laughs, and the sound brings me a small, hesitant smile. “Try it. You’ll get the hang of it.”
“Rett—why do you continue to help me when I refuse to marry you? Most men would have left already.”
He looks at the sky for a long moment. “Because you’re going to be a great ruler one day.
You may not believe it, but I do—and I want to be a part of that future.
” Rett leads my mare over and grabs my hand to assist me into the saddle.
“Besides, once we’re in the Beast Realm, you’ll happily change your mind about marriage when you see what I can offer and all we will accomplish together. ”
I purse my lips but don’t say anything—not wanting to bring the mood down further. Spurring the mare forward, I lean into her mane and let her gallop on.
* * *
The endless road spares too much free time.
Too much solitude.
The silence is as vast as the endless blue sky above or the relentless wind whipping my back. My thoughts wander restlessly like a lost dog.
At Rett’s suggestion, I attempt to still my mind, wanting to wipe it clean of the fearful, bloody memories creeping in, but my determination proves as weak as my skill.
Over the long journey, we bypass and avoid villages, not taking the main road.
True to our plan, we cross fields and creeks and climb hillsides until the weather gradually warms despite the beginnings of winter.
We sleep on the ground, and every night, Rett insists I use his arm as a pillow before he begins to snore gently next to me.
I initially hesitate because of the memory of our heated encounter after my coronation, but nothing happens between us again. His mood is subdued for the most part, and I believe the grief of losing Drakka and even more of his horde weighs heavily on him.
Although I’m grateful for our simple friendship, knowing that he’ll eventually want more never leaves the back of my mind, like a woodpecker announcing ownership of a tree.
The bland rations of dried meat and foraged onions grow tiresome, but I don’t complain. I refuse to become more of a burden. So we eat, we travel, and I keep quiet, letting the road take over my thoughts and letting Rett silently grieve.
When we approach the outskirts of a particularly empty settlement, dread spreads across my chest as I take note of its state.
The gardens are overgrown, and roofs have caved in on blackened cottage walls.
Debris litters the streets. I slow my horse on top of the hill and study it from afar.
Rett stops beside me and says in a hollow voice, “It’s abandoned. ”
“How do you know?” I ask, squinting and surveying for any signs of life.
“The farther south we go, the sparser it’ll become.” He gives me a dark look. “The situation is dire. People are growing scared and moving into the cities.”
My knuckles tighten over the reins.
It seems Robert and his family aren’t the only ones leaving.
“Come on,” he urges his horse. “We have more ground to cover before nightfall. We’re almost to the Border Forest.”