Chapter 14
Iran through all of my training from my brief stint in the army, but nothing came to mind.
We hadn’t trained for mountains, just the small hills that rose from the prairie at the frontlines.
And I’d never learned how to take on more than one foe at a time. My training had been solely for nonviolent spy work.
“We need to do what they would least expect,” I said in a low voice, directly in Ena’s ear. “We can’t take them all with a single sword. I vote we roll down the hill directly at them and hope the element of surprise has them jumping out of the way.”
Ena gulped audibly, probably thinking of how it would feel with all the twigs and pine needles poking our skin. “I can’t think of anything better. Let’s do it.”
“On two . . . one . . . two!” I pushed off the incline, pulling the sword and waterskin into my chest before crossing my arms and diving into a roll down the hill. I realized my mistake immediately.
I was rolling too fast to know whether or not the ambushers were moving out of the way.
In fact, I couldn’t distinguish anything and grew dizzy with each additional turn in the dirt.
Not to mention, the path wasn’t smooth—rocks slowing my roll immensely as the sticks from our failed fire jabbed into my sides, legs, and neck.
Then, I smacked into something hard.
“Fucking tree,” I hissed, grabbing my side in pain. I really hadn’t thought this plan through, as there was blood dripping down my arm. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, though.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” The voice came from above. The voice I would recognize anywhere.
He hadn’t listened to me. He hadn’t given me space.
I opened my mouth to utter a smart remark, but all that emerged was a groan.
“I told you I would find you anywhere, Runa.” Otho breathed as he leaned down to pick me up. One of his arms was beneath my knees, the other behind my back as he lifted me and pulled me to his chest.
I hated how my body relaxed in his embrace. The traitor.
My mind wasn’t so simple, though, and I dug in my mental heels as he began to move. He was still the man who had left me behind enemy lines…for several fortnights.
“I’ve got Ena!” a voice I vaguely recognized as Askel’s called from the side.
“Otho,” I breathed. “What are you doing here?” There was no damn way he scaled a mountain just to find me.
“I told you; I can’t stay away from you.” I felt movement, and I assumed he was carrying me down the mountain.
Away from where I knew I needed to be.
Ena’s and my plan flashed behind my eyelids. “But we need to go to Shianp.” I immediately regretted divulging the information to Otho, especially with my recent realization that he wouldn’t respect my wishes.
“Then we go together,” he promised as his movements paused, and I felt warmth.
“But . . . I need space,” I pleaded, my dream of finally living life for myself crushed before my eyes.
“You’ll have space,” he promised, my magic picking up on his despair at my words.
Guilt rolled through me, even as I fought to shove it down.
I opened my eyes to find a small camp with four tents surrounding a campfire, none other than Karl using a stick to stir the flames back to life.
I did a double take. I hadn’t seen Karl since the barracks in Ralheim, the night I was brought there as punishment for my betrayal of Adis.
The tents in the clearing were similar to the ones we’d once used on the frontlines.
Nothing fancy, but the thick beige fabric was durable and large enough to house two soldiers, though I’d always had my own.
When things had grown more complicated, I’d heard from Leif that three or four men to a tent wasn’t uncommon, but if they had four with them here . . .
“Who’s on the frontlines?” I breathed, so many questions floating in my mind.
“No one. The war is over.” Otho used his fingers to turn my chin, his gray eyes scouring my face with concern in their depths. There was a flicker of something else there too, but I couldn’t place it.
I knew what he wasn’t saying though. War didn’t just end. Not without death or one side giving in. Something was still going on, something he was unwilling to divulge.
My mind moved forward, the thoughts painting a gruesome picture as I realized what Otho meant by over.
Leif would never give in.
Not willingly.
I struggled out of his grasp, barely able to draw in a breath. I nearly stumbled on the rocky terrain as I stood, but I held out a hand as Otho reached out his to steady me. “Don’t touch me,” I snapped, even as I nearly toppled into a pile, only righting myself at the last moment.
His hand dropped back down, and I could feel his sadness at being rejected—though far less than normal considering I’d taken a double dose of the poison that morning. “I’m sorry, Runa,” he pleaded, but I didn’t feel any regret coming from him.
My mind spun. Although I’d never loved Leif—never truly—I felt a tear in my chest knowing that someone who had been there for me, someone I had once considered to be a friend, would never speak to me again.
I felt guilt knowing that someone’s life had been ended over me.
I glanced around like a rabbit caught in a trap. I wanted to run. From my emotions, from having to tell Otho I was angry at him . . . from everything.
I could feel Otho’s gray eyes on me, judging me for caring about the death of a man who had hurt me, and I couldn’t handle it. My gaze began to dart, searching for a way out of this camp. It was too oppressive here; there were too many eyes fixed on me.
Too many people were disappointed that I was reacting this way. My chest burned with their combined emotions.
“Don’t run. Here.” Otho lifted the flap of the nearest tent, and I didn’t even look before I dove in.
The flap closed behind me, cutting off the light of the two moons, saving me from kicking Otho out.
It was his tent—I could tell by the vague woodsy smell I’d come to associate with him.
The tent was set up with only two bedrolls rolled out next to one another, leaving a small space in the corner for bags.
He’d known he would find me tonight.
I smelled nothing but Otho as I buried my face in the pillow, relief flowing through my shoulders. I hated that his smell alone relaxed my body. While I was grieving the death of a man who, though misguided, likely didn’t deserve the gruesome end he’d received because of me.
And I knew no matter what Otho thought, the death and killing was not over. Something was still amiss in Heimland.
My hand brushed my palm, feeling the raised scar there.
I was no longer a bonded woman.
It felt like my chest had been torn open, the very essence spilling onto the bedroll below me. I wasn’t crying for Leif alone, but for everyone who once been a part of my life who was no longer there—their lives stolen from them by a war they didn’t consent to.
I must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, someone was shaking my shoulder. I jolted awake, breathing hard as I returned to consciousness.
“It’s me.” The voice was Ena’s, and my shoulders relaxed even though I secretly couldn’t wait to see Otho again, as much as I lied to myself and said I didn’t.
We would fix things between us, that was inevitable, but I wanted to hold on to my anger for as long as possible.
I wanted him to admit he’d been wrong when he’d gone against my wishes.
I wanted to feel in control of what was to come in my life.
Something Otho hadn’t honored when he’d come for me against my wishes.
I realized Ena was still looking at me expectantly. I scrubbed the sleep from my eyes. “What happened?”
“It’s morning, and we need to move.”
It was a struggle to draw breath into my lungs, my body still aching from the night before. “You really think we should go with them?”
Ena tilted her ear to the cloth ceiling, and I understood then that we couldn’t discuss what she really wanted to say here.
“I think it is better if we are in a large group.” Her words were practiced, measured, and again, I was impressed by how much she inherently knew how to act when it came to keeping her motives secret. She was a natural spy.
I rose from the bedroll, grimacing at the state of my clothing.
It had already been dirty when I’d chosen the outfit days before, but the roll down the hill had made it worse for wear.
The shirt was torn now, barely covering my brassiere, and the breeches, though they didn’t have holes, would soon be threadbare where they wrapped around my thighs.
Still, there was no other option. Ena held open the tent flap as I climbed out into the early morning air.
The fire was embers, and Askel and Karl moved around the camp, packing. There were a few more men I didn’t recognize helping, one of whom noticed our emergence and held out two rolls of bread in our direction.
Starving, I grabbed the bread, consuming it in a few bites.
I felt his gray gaze long before my eyes connected with his where he leaned against a tree on the opposite edge of camp.
I wondered where he’d spent the night, if not in the tent I’d commandeered, but I didn’t feel like asking.
He no longer wore his uniform, dressed instead in a plain white shirt and breeches.
It was the most informal outfit I’d ever seen him wear.
“You two were on the right track. We will continue the hike north. There’s a small village I hope to reach within a few days.” Otho stepped into the clearing, kneeling to pack up the tent I’d just emerged from.
“Supplies?” I asked. “Ena and I only have a waterskin and the sword.” And the vials of poison between my breasts, but I kept that information to myself.
“We will forage as we go, but we have enough for now,” Otho replied, frowning.