Chapter 5
It was the eve of the tournament, and almost all the new orders had left the shop with satisfied customers. After weeks of armour, swords and helmets stacked high in every available space, the shop looked empty.
‘A set of armour hasn’t been collected,’ Cillian mumbled as he looked through the order sheets to see who hadn’t returned for it.
‘I’m sure they’ll come, and if not, you can put it in your shop,’ I replied, laying a carefully wrapped sword on the table.
It was Lord Warwick’s sword, ready to be collected. Would Torgrin think it was good enough for his lord? It was the finest sword I had ever made, but I was from Red River. My work might not measure up to the blacksmiths of Capita.
Cillian gave up looking at the orders and came to stand at my side in the doorway. I sighed, and he put his arm around my shoulders.
‘The sword is magnificent, so stop worrying.’
‘How did you … ?’
‘How often have you polished, wrapped and rewrapped that sword today?’
I scowled at him, and he chuckled, then frowned.
‘Something else is bothering you as well, but I’m not sure what it is.’
Should I tell him that no customer is coming to pick up the last set of armour because it’s for me? I added it to the orders weeks ago.
‘Is it Millie?’ Cillian squeezed my shoulders.
The sight of Millie being dragged down the street by those two men flashed through my mind. ‘Do you think they will hang her after the tournament?’
Cillian sighed. ‘I don’t know.’
I rested my head on his shoulder.
‘Do you regret last night?’ Cillian murmured into my hair.
I lifted my head to see his face.
‘I shouldn’t have kissed you last night. We had been drinking …’ He frowned. ‘I’d been thinking about kissing you for weeks. You are the most extraordinary woman, and your lips …’ His eyes lowered to my mouth, then he shook his head. ‘I was wrong to –’
I cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips. ‘It was a perfect first kiss. I would never have imagined a kiss could make me feel so much.’
Cillian’s frown disappeared and his face lit up with a cocky grin. I elbowed him, but he only pulled me closer as we looked out at the narrow street together.
Lord Warwick’s tournament had brought prosperity to the inhabitants of Murus. The deliveries to Warwick Fortress had been non-stop all week, and a great deal of coin was being spent on this event.
Two horses were pulling a man and his cart up the hill towards the fortress gates, and I noticed a couple of the large barrels piled onto the cart were coming loose from their bindings.
Before I could shout a warning, both barrels crashed to the street.
They rolled down the hill, picking up speed.
Walking up the hill were the mother and daughter who sold honey cakes at the market.
The little girl saw us and waved with a bright smile.
There was no time for them to move out of the way.
‘Caris! NO!’ Cillian yelled as I broke away to stand in the path of the barrels.
The mother screamed, shielding her child behind her skirts.
I cast my hands in front of me and focused on the barrels, willing the Darkness building inside me to intercept them.
A wind rose, whipping my braid across my face. My fingers tingled, and dark, shadowy ropes seeped from my gloved hands, swirling around the barrels. Everything grew still and quiet as the barrels wrapped in shadows hovered in the air before me.
The Darkness triggered an urge in my trembling arms, and I brought my hands together. With a clap, both barrels disintegrated into ash. Then, I was struggling for air – my arms falling listlessly to my sides as I breathed heavily.
Barrel ash rained down around me. It had all happened so fast that I almost wouldn’t have believed it had it not been for the sting of the ash in my eyes.
Cillian ran over to help the terrified mother and child, who were on their knees, clinging to each other. The wind whipped up, dispersing what was left of the ash.
The man driving the cart jumped down and walked to the back of his wagon, searching for the missing barrels.
‘Go inside, Caris!’ Cillian shouted.
The man scratched his head in confusion before returning to his wagon.
A young soldier stood a few feet outside the fortress gates, staring at me with wide eyes.
‘Caris, go inside, please!’ Cillian stopped at the forge to take a hammer from the wall, then began to walk towards the young soldier.
‘I’ll take care of it. Just get off the street,’ Cillian murmured out of the corner of his mouth.
I was vibrating from head to toe. I had let the Darkness out again, and now Cillian would have to kill a soldier to keep my secret.
Stumbling into the shop, I felt painful memories claw to the surface, dragging me back to that day.
I stood in the tiny two-room cottage, shaken with all the feelings I could no longer contain. My mother, small and beautiful, lay curled up next to my father, holding his hand, sobbing quietly against his broad shoulder.
My father, who could carry entire trees across his massive shoulders, had died from a cut on his leg.
He had been our world, and now he was another casualty of the poverty and sickness that plagued Red River.
He once told me it was iron in the dirt that made the river run red, but I knew better. It was death that made it bloody.
The scream came from deep inside, where all my bitterness and anger had been hidden for as long as I could remember. I had always felt the Darkness inside me. I hid it from my parents because I wanted to be good and worthy of their love.
The cottage walls trembled around me. Timber creaked in protest, and a loud crack came from the large beam above us. My parents’ bed shook, forcing my mother to emerge from her grief.
I couldn’t see or hear her cries of alarm; all I saw was my father’s lifeless body.
A small table and chair lifted into the air and circled the room, hitting each other and crashing into the groaning walls like a tornado had entered the room.
My hair whipped against my face as I focused all my senses on the ball of Darkness and power that was building deep inside my chest. It was like a crack had opened something that had been lying in wait for me my whole life.
The rough stone under my cheek was wet with my tears. My arms trembled as I pushed myself into a sitting position and wiped my eyes with my sleeve.
I had brought the ceiling of our cottage down on our heads with the Darkness.
My mother had only escaped being crushed by crouching beside the bed where the largest beam fell, pinning my father’s corpse.
The same beam caught the back of my head, but my mother had found a way to drag my unconscious body out of the ruins.
My head injury was severe enough that she had thought I would die, but the wound knitted itself back together at an astonishing rate.
When I awoke and saw the destruction I had caused, I vowed never to lose control of the Darkness again.
Unable to free my father’s body, we’d had to make the house he built for my mother his final resting place.
I remembered my mother taking a torch to our cottage and everything we owned – even now, guilt wrapped around my heart like a thorn-covered vine.
She might not have insisted we find my people to ask for their help if I had not destroyed our home.
We would never have met the man with icy blue eyes if I had not done what I had done. Maybe she would still be alive.
Letting the Darkness out had consequences.
‘Caris?’ Cillian’s panicked voice cut through my inner torment.
He appeared around the counter, and his frown softened when he saw me on the floor. I gripped the carved white rabbit my father had turned into a necklace when I had grown too old to play with toys.
Cillian gently reached out, pulling me up under the armpits like a child, and then wrapped his arms around my quivering body.
He buried his face in my hair. ‘You smell like lavender and ash.’ He stroked my head soothingly, and we stood wrapped in each other’s arms until someone behind us cleared their throat.
I jumped, my heart lurching out of my chest. Had someone come to take me away already?
I was surprised when I twisted to see it was the young soldier from outside.
Cillian hadn’t hurt him.
The soldier was fidgeting nervously with his sword at his waist.
‘What do you want?’ Cillian growled, making both me and the soldier flinch. I had never heard Cillian sound so … dangerous.
‘I’m here on behalf of Captain Torgrin to collect Lord Warwick’s sword,’ the young soldier declared uneasily.
The nervous request was unexpected, and I watched Cillian’s face go blank.
I didn’t know whether the soldier was stupid or if he was simply more afraid of not following Captain Torgrin’s command than he was afraid of a Cursed woman.
I moved to retrieve the sword from across the room, and the soldier sprang back with a yelp.
I froze.
Poor man. He really was scared of me.
‘Hellfire.’ Cillian snarled and went to fetch the sword.
The soldier took the sword and thrust a bag of coins at Cillian. Then he hurried out of the shop as if the underworld was opening beneath his boots.
Cillian turned to me. ‘You must leave. Now.’
Hurt pierced my heart at his words.
‘Don’t look at me like that, Caris!’ He pushed his unbound hair back from his forehead with a shaky hand. ‘They will come for you, and they will call you Cursed. I have been through this before, and I cannot see another woman I care for die at the hands of frightened men!’
I took in a sharp breath. ‘Your wife was like me?’
‘I don’t know if there is anyone like you, Caris, but yes – she could do things. She could heal wounds and make sick people well.’
‘Is that why you had to come here?’
His face crumpled. ‘They took her before I could bring her here. I should never have left her,’ he choked out.
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ I reached out to touch his arm.
Cillian stepped back, and something shrivelled inside me.
‘You need to go. One word from that soldier and they will come for you.’ His words were rushed.
‘No. I don’t want to leave.’
‘I couldn’t live with myself if you were taken too.’ His hands wrapped around my upper arms as he looked at me pleadingly. ‘If you care for me at all, you will leave and never return. Please.’
I didn’t want to cause him more pain, but the tournament was tomorrow, and this could be my only chance to find the revenge I had been seeking for ten winters. My eyes burned as I fought back tears. Cillian deserved better than me.
The sun was setting, giving me an excuse to stay a little longer. ‘I’ll go,’ I lied. ‘In the morning, when it’s light.’
‘What if they come at night?’ he asked, shaking his head.
‘I’ll sleep with the horses. If they come, I will jump on Nightmare and leave before they can catch me.’
I held my breath, waiting.
He looked out the shop window at the fading light. ‘Fine,’ he said on a rough exhale. ‘But I’ll stay in the barn with you.’
‘There’s not enough room for both of us with the horses. Wouldn’t it be better if you were in the forge where you can see the street? That way, there will be time for you to warn me.’
He was silent for so long that I thought he would still insist I leave tonight.
Thankfully, he nodded and insisted on helping me pack my things so I would be ready to leave at daybreak. I grabbed my weapons while he packed provisions.
Lying to him made me despise myself, and losing him would hurt, but I owed my mother justice.
We packed everything I needed into my saddlebags and readied Nightmare for travel. Cillian’s eyes widened when I grabbed his hand without warning.
His broad palm was rough with calluses from swinging hammers all day. I brought his hand up to my cheek and stared into his warm brown eyes, hoping never to forget them. His lips parted as I turned my head and gently pressed a kiss to his palm.
‘Thank you,’ I choked out through rising tears.
Please don’t hate me for doing this.
‘Goodnight, Caris,’ he whispered. Then he walked away, holding my kiss in his clenched fist.