Chapter 14 #2
I knew I looked worse for wear, and I didn’t care.
As Otho turned back to his task of packing the tent, I slipped behind the nearest tree, downing the last potion before I replaced the empty vial in my brassiere.
Though it was uncomfortable, I knew I would need them as soon as I was able to find a poisonous plant I could use.
The group of them worked quickly, and by the time I stepped back into the clearing, the camp was reduced to several large traveling sacks, each of the men reaching for one as they exited the camp.
We climbed the mountain in silence, Otho choosing to walk by my side even though we didn’t speak a word to each other. I knew we would need to talk eventually, but with the climb as steep as it was and my anger still at a boil, now wasn’t the time.
I also needed time to sort my emotions. To decide which ones I would disclose to Otho, and which I would keep for myself. I knew it was likely better to tell him everything, but I couldn’t bring myself to divulge the pain I felt at losing Leif just yet.
He wouldn’t understand.
Askel and Karl climbed on either side of us, with the other three men taking the lead. Ena trailed behind, often stopping to poke in various bushes.
I tried to visually search for my belladonna, but every time I paused or leaned down to look for a certain plant, Otho was right there, his gaze asking questions I couldn’t answer.
Although my body was still comfortable around Otho, noticeably relaxing in his presence, my mind was in stark contrast. I didn’t know what to say to him after so many fortnights of being apart.
A season of living one of my worst nightmares.
Though, if I were honest with myself, the only reason I wasn’t a crumpled mess on the forest floor was because I had adapted to having my freedom and choices taken from me.
Even though I’d sworn, on the day Hansen and Adis died, that they never would be again.
With a gulp, I cumulated my thoughts into one, finally understanding why I was so angry at Otho . . . and at myself.
When we stopped midday for lunch, Otho must’ve realized what I needed, as he excused himself to hunt as we all took a seat and Karl passed out food. We were all tired, sweat dripping down our foreheads, and we’d barely covered any distance.
“Runa, you missed the introductions last night, but this is Nel, Jase, and Ryle.” Karl motioned last to the man who’d handed me the bread that morning, my eyebrows shooting to my hairline.
Now that it was light outside, I could finally evaluate him.
He was tall, probably the same height as Otho, but not nearly as broad, his frame muscled but thin.
He had dark hair, but it was cut much shorter than Otho’s.
His pale blue eyes glinted in a way that made me shiver.
My eyes widened as my brain finally processed his name.
He appraised me, probably spotting the questions in my eyes. “I was never on Malheim’s side.”
I dipped my chin, the silence taught between us as I realized the general Leif had relied on had betrayed him in the end.
Though the lie hadn’t affected me, I still didn’t like the way my chest pinched at his admission.
Ena elbowed me, and I returned to the strip of jerky and slice of cheese in my hands, no longer hungry as I pulled the details of the deception together in my head.
We all finished eating, the rations providing a nice change from Ena’s and my poor foraging. Otho still hadn’t returned, so we all remained seated, except Ena, who moved from her place next to me to wander into the trees.
“You should forgive Otho.” Askel sat down next to me in the place vacated by Ena. “He did his best. Every day he didn’t come for you, it broke him. But he knew we needed to wait until the right moment—”
I shook my head. “I was there for eight fortnights, Askel.” My stint with Leif had far exceeded any of my previous imprisonments, and for some reason, it cleaved my soul in a different way. I wasn’t the Runa Otho saved on the fateful night two seasons before.
“Did he—”
I held up my wrist, displaying the mess it’d become with the two brands imposed on top of one another.
He grimaced. “But—”
“You don’t want to know, Askel.” I rose from my seated position, the conversation over. I would never be able to formulate words on how the imprisonment had broken me. I hadn’t been there to save anyone, like all of my previous imprisonments. I merely sat there, useless, for days on end.
And I’d made my life into an even more complicated mess.
At least I’d managed to burn some of the books—something Askel wouldn’t approve of.
Though I was no longer certain I’d made the right choice that day.
I moved to wait on the edge of the clearing, my back to the group as we waited for Otho and Ena to return. Ena returned first, a smirk on her face, but she said nothing as she came to stand next to me.
Otho wasn’t far behind, his lips pressed into a thin line, a dead rabbit over his shoulder. He handed it to Jase before motioning me over.
I shook my head and crossed my arms.
He scowled, but said nothing, taking off in the direction we’d been headed in all morning, his head down as he chose a path for us.
I wanted to ask if he’d had anything to eat, but I smashed that thought down, trying and failing to suppress what my body felt for him—the urge to ensure he was taking care of himself.
I knew we would get over this, the magic of our weighted relationship already overpowering my anger. But I wanted him to know how angry I was at him.
As we climbed, I fell behind, unused to the physical strain of climbing.
I hadn’t realized how much Ena had slowed for me the previous days, and though Otho glanced over his shoulder, his ache to help me brushing my muted empathy gift, he whistled, and it was Ryle who slowed down until his pace matched mine.
I didn’t really want to speak with Leif’s former general, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I did—until I solved the puzzle.
“Why?” The word was a gasp, and at first, I thought he hadn’t heard me.
But then he spoke. “It was a position to me, nothing more. Hansen appointed me, and when he died, I kept the position. Otho approached me and well . . .” He trailed off.
I bit my lip. I knew that anyone who flipped sides once would certainly do so again. Something Otho had overlooked when he brought him along on this little expedition.
I wouldn’t be making the same mistake. “That doesn’t answer my question,” I replied.
I could feel his confusion, then his resolve. “A war is a war. Everyone loses. I fight for whoever pays me the most.”
My teeth bit clean through my lip, and I sucked it into my mouth before the blood could run down my chin. I glared at Otho’s back. “But what about fighting for what you believe in? What you believe to be right?”
He shrugged. “Right to me is money. Otherwise, I’m happy to do whatever others ask of me.”
I swallowed, unhappy with the mental picture those words invoked in my mind—the version of myself that Ryle suddenly reminded me of.
Angry, I increased my pace, even as my lungs burned, so that I was in between Karl and Otho. I tried to keep my mind off of the anger bubbling beneath my skin by watching Ena, but my mind kept returning to how Otho apparently thought he could win this war with coin.
Which reminded me of something else. If Otho was here, who was the current Viscount of Ralheim?
With a grumble, I knew this meant Otho and I would be speaking sooner rather than later.
It was time to find out what really happened the fateful night I left Malheim.
It was already dark when we finally stopped for the night, the men moving with practiced precision as they set up camp, a fire, and Ryle skinned and roasted the rabbit over the flames.
Ena continued poking in the bushes, and I wondered where she found the energy. My legs and arms ached from the hike, and the moment I sank down onto a rock near the fire Ryle was using, I felt other muscles in my core also protesting the strenuous activity.
Dinner was silent, all of us enjoying the roasted rabbit along with a small potato that Ena had scavenged during the day. They were both delicious, and I craved more even when there was nothing but bones left.
Once Askel collected the bones into a pile, I motioned to Otho, whose gray eyes were already fixed on me. Without explaining, I stepped into the trees, waiting for him to join me.
I only knew he’d followed thanks to the sound of his boots as they crushed the underbrush with each step.
The moment we were out of earshot, I started, not wanting to lose the nerve I’d spent all day fortifying. “You can’t win a war with coin.”
Several emotions floated through his eyes before they darkened in anger. He huffed. “That’s what you called me out here to talk about?”
I glanced over my shoulder to find Otho leaning against a tree, running his hand through his dark hair. He looked exhausted, the dark circles beneath his eyes appearing even darker than they had in the dream space.
I raised my eyebrows instead of answering.
“You’re not a general,” he said at last. “I have to make some tough decisions. I did what I thought was right and I stand by those decisions.”
Which apparently didn’t include rescuing me, but I didn’t voice that part. I didn’t want to appear needy. “Who’s the viscount of Ralheim while we’re here?”
“Cal,” he replied quickly. “He’s going back and forth between Ralheim and Salheim until I’m able to return.”
“And Malheim?”
“Friar.”
My jaw dropped, my brain struggling to match the healer I’d known with the viciousness I’d experienced from three viscounts now.