Chapter 45 Evander
Chapter forty-five
Evander
Evander gasped, expecting the blade to pierce his lung, and for half a heartbeat, he thought, this is a stupid, humiliating way to die. But the knife glanced off his shirt. The material didn’t even snag.
His last thread of patience gone, Evander grabbed Samara’s wrist and twisted.
She screamed in pain, dropping the knife.
Haldir caught it up and slashed at Samara, but Evander caught Haldir’s arm while he was off-balance and executed a quick wrench.
The knife clattered to the floor, and Evander stomped his boot on the blade.
Unreasonable in his anger and fear, Haldir gripped Evander’s shoulder and wrenched.
There was a sickening pop, and Evander’s stomach pitched.
With his mind racing and his blood high, he didn’t register the pain.
Whirling on Haldir, he struck the bigger man in the throat with his elbow. Haldir stumbled into a table, choking.
“Everyone, clear out!” Evander shouted, straightening just in time to be clobbered by a clay pot. It shattered on his shoulder and knocked him sideways onto the floor.
Haldir recovered, and he and Samara both dashed for the knife, but Evander lunged out and grabbed it from under their fingers. With a growl, he pushed to his knees and slashed at their legs. They jumped away, Haldir scarlet with fury, Samara pallid with shock.
Hungry, tired, missing Valenna, and absolutely sick of every human being in the three kingdoms, Evander stood, trembling with constrained wrath, his mouth set into a hard line. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this angry. He had never been this angry.
For one blinding second, Evander considered walking away and letting the stubborn, belligerent Cobblepinions suffer the consequences of their own stupidity. They’d rid the world of Haldir, and he wouldn’t have to train them. A victory on two fronts.
But he couldn’t ignore the gnawing truth that they were here because of him.
With another growl—his third that evening—Evander lunged out, snatched the shotfire from Haldir’s belt, and fired it into the ceiling. The crowd ducked, covering their ears as plaster dust rained down on Evander’s hair.
“Everyone, sit!” he ordered.
No one moved.
“SIT! ON! THE! FLOOR!”
It was just one or two soldiers at first, then everyone lowered themselves to the tavern floor and sat, watching Evander tensely.
“Listen to me!” Unaccustomed to shouting, he found it hurt his throat. “I don’t know who started this …”
A murmur rippled over the crowd, growing to a rumble, but Evander yelled, “I DO NOT CARE!”
The voices died down, and all eyes fastened on him—the soldiers’ hopeful, the trainees’ furious.
“Colonel Bournemuth is going to overlook this,” Evander said, closing his hand over the back of Haldir’s neck. “He recognizes his misconduct and knows the king will be so displeased about his new conscripts having to be executed that he will most likely be executed along with them.”
Haldir let out a small chuff.
“Return to the barracks. If I see any one of you, Cobblepinion or Sennalaithic, within fifty strides of town tonight, I will shoot you myself.”
The tavern emptied, the crowd bending around Evander like river water flowing around a boulder. The Dread Five crew shot him reproachful looks as they passed.
Except Samara. She sat on the floor with her knees drawn up, her eyes shining.
In a matter of seconds, only Samara, Haldir, and Evander remained.
Evander shoved Haldir away.
“Listen to me, you sorry excuse for a man,” Evander hissed.
He was frightening when he shouted, terrifying when he whispered.
“These people want to see you dead for what you did to Lysander. And you deserve it, you piece of skat, but I will protect you from them as long as you keep your mouth shut about me and Valenna and keep your head down. One word to the king, or one more scene like this, and I’ll let them have their way with you, and you know that it’s customary in Cobblepine to feed wrongdoers to the dragons. ”
Haldir stared at Evander, trying to challenge him, but Evander was not intimidated, and he did not quail.
“I could have you hanged,” Haldir sneered. “I could have you tied to a post and whipped until you’re …”
Evander shoved the shotfire at Samara. “Here. Aim for his chest. You can’t miss.”
“ALRIGHT!” Haldir roared. “Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
Evander jerked his head toward the door. “Wise. Get out of my sight.”
Haldir stomped out of the tavern, leaving the door open behind him.
Evander stood a moment in the empty room, and as his anger drained, weariness took its place.
He almost resented this second life Valenna had bought for him.
He just wanted to lay his head on her knees while she stroked his hair.
He just wanted to sleep knowing she was safe.
Samara, still sitting on the floor, sniffled, and Evander looked down at her.
Samara shook her head, her upper lip curling with disgust. “How could you? How could you defend that murderer?”
Wrestling to hold back the geyser boiling inside him, Evander strode out of the tavern.
He didn’t have an answer for Samara. He only cared about Valenna. He only cared about their future. So why was he taking risks to keep this horde of idiots alive? What did he care if they were lined up against the wall and shot?
This was not how Evander lived his life. He didn’t get involved in other people’s troubles; he didn’t save people from their own stupidity.
Had being with Valenna pulled him out of his thicket of self-protection and not just softened him toward her but toward everything and everyone?
Evander staggered along the boardwalk to a dock that ended on an open expanse of marsh.
Crowds of tall grass stood out of the water, and a lilac-plumed bird, as tall as a man, stalked in the blue shallows, balancing on one yellow leg.
A little water dragon chased a school of fish into Evander’s shadow.
“Trevelyan!” Samara called, running after him.
It wasn’t dark yet, but the sky’s last blush before sunset. The water rippled in surreal pastels.
Samara clattered up to him. Before she could speak, Evander whirled on her.
“Do you realize what would have happened if I didn’t come to your rescue tonight?”
“I didn’t ask you to come rescue me,” Samara panted. “I had everything controlled.”
“Controlled?” Evander cried. “CONTROLLED? You were about to kill a Sennalaithic officer! If I hadn’t stopped you, you would be facing execution!”
“He murdered Lysander!”
“And you nearly got your entire crew killed, which makes you as bad as Haldir!”
Samara stumbled back. “What I did is not the same.”
“No,” he said darkly, “it’s worse.”
Samara covered her face with her hands, and Evander noticed her knuckles were scuffed and bleeding.
“If you hate someone long enough, you turn into them, Samara. It’s a terrible law of the universe. Haldir is loathsome, but he’s not worth dying for. Hell, I’m not certain you’re worth it either, but here I am!”
“Yes, Captain,” Samara said, lifting her head. “Why are you here? Why don’t you just run away? Isn’t that what you usually do, run away?”
All Evander’s disappointment and grief and rage crashed against him like a rogue wave.
“I DON’T KNOW WHY!” he shouted, running his left hand through his hair—he couldn’t lift his right arm; he couldn’t remember why.
“But I do know that my wife did not save my life so that I could be murdered in a bar brawl!” He turned toward Samara, his hand extended in desperate frustration.
“I’m supposed to go to battle, the one thing I swore I would never do again, because I can’t get my wife out of this, and I’ll be lucky if I survive to even attempt the invasion because of you! ”
“And do you think we want to be stuck with you?” Samara yelled, marching toward Evander, her cheeks burning scarlet.
“Do you think I want to be following a captain who hates me and a crew that doesn’t know a shotfire from a rolling pin?
You should have a scrap, a scrap of compassion for me. I lost my childhood!”
“HA!” Evander laughed bitterly. “You wouldn’t survive ten minutes where I spent my happy childhood. I clawed my way through hell to the life I had, but if you keep making rash, vengeful choices, none of us will live to get our old lives back!”
By now, Evander was aware that he couldn’t move his shoulder without searing pain. The whole right side of his body hurt, and he carried himself stiffly, trying not to jostle his arm.
He winced. “If you want to survive, do what I tell you and convince your friends to do it as well.”
“If you want us to survive, stop treating us like we’re idiots.”
“If you don’t want to be treated like idiots, stop doing idiotic things!
“People rise to their leader’s expectations!”
Evander glared at Samara until she wilted, a flower under an icy wind.
“Your shoulder is dislocated,” she sulked.
“I’m aware,” Evander said, walking past her down the dock.
“Who will tend it?”
“I’ll tend it myself,” Evander said.
Samara watched him go, looking uncertain.
His breath catching with each movement, Evander found a secluded place behind the dragon barn and knelt on the damp grass.
He grasped the corner of the building with his good hand, counted to three, and slammed his body into the wall.
The impact sent a shot of red-hot pain through him, and he screamed through his teeth.
The scream felt like lancing a blister or letting out a long-held breath.
Evander came undone.
Bending forward, he beat the ground with his good fist until sand spattered his face.
He was angry at everyone—Valenna for getting him into this mess, Samara for her stubbornness, Haldir for his brutal stupidity, and himself. Mostly himself. He couldn’t help his wife or Cobblepine. He couldn’t run. He was a rabbit in a thicket, the fox creeping ever closer.
Staggering to his feet, he cast around for something to break. An unlucky clay jar stood on a pile of discarded barrels, and he picked it up and flung it into the barn wall. It shattered, but the movement of throwing it jolted his shoulder, and he dropped to his knees, biting his shearling collar.
Shaking away the rising dizziness, he took two deep breaths, clutched the corner again, and was about to slam into the wall a second time when someone caught his jacket and yanked him off-balance. He fell on his rear with a yelp.
Samara stood over him, her mouth gaping. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Go away, Samara,” Evander said, struggling up again and squaring up to the corner.
“Stop that!” Samara cried, her voice cracking. “Are you insane?”
“I need to reset my shoulder,” Evander gritted.
“And you think this’ll work?”
Evander blinked at her, the world reeling.
Samara looked green. “I know how to set it.”
“Liar.”
“No, I really do. I worked at my father’s apothecary, and he taught us how to set dislocations. I’ve done it before.”
Evander hesitated. “I don’t think I trust you …”
“I’m a bleeding lot better than the blasted wall!” She held her hand out to him.
With a sigh, he took her hand and she hauled him to his feet, then led the way to the barn. Evander sat on a bench in the supply stall, and Samara offered him a shot of whisky. He took it gratefully and tossed it back, wincing as it burned down his throat.
The rest of the Dread Five crew were busy with their evening chores, but they gathered to watch, faces bright with morbid excitement. They leaned in, offering suggestions to Samara.
“Pull out, then down …” Elspeth said.
“Brace your foot against the bench first, then yank …” Rosemary suggested.
“No, no, you need to twist like this …” Ignatius insisted, making a horrifying motion with his hands like he was wringing a chicken’s neck.
Rosemary grinned. “I think Giles should do it.”
“NO!” Giles squeaked.
“Does everyone need to be here?” Evander asked.
Suddenly, Samara grabbed Evander’s elbow, yanked his arm up, and, with a twist, popped the joint into place. Evander was so startled, he came out of his seat with a shriek and landed on his knees on the dirt floor. The crew gasped, jumped, and let out cries of surprise.
But the pain faded, and the horrible, disjointed sensation was gone.
The Dread Five crew cheered.
“Get him a sling!” Ignatius ordered.
“Here.” Elspeth offered a grimy kerchief.
Giles snatched it away and tossed it aside. “That’s disgusting! Rosemary, go to the barracks and tear a bedsheet into strips.”
“Because the sheets we’ve been sleeping on are so, so much cleaner, Giles!” Elspeth snapped.
Giles threw up his hands and ran back through the barn.
Evander sat back on his heels, rolling his shoulder gingerly in its socket as Samara stood with her arms crossed over her chest and looked smug.
“All better?” Samara asked.
“As good as it’ll get, I suppose.”
Samara shook her head. “Don’t bother to thank me.”
“I wasn’t planning to, seeing as it’s your fault,” Evander replied.
Giles returned and held out a strip of cloth, which Evander pushed aside. Giles’ shoulders stooped.
“Thank you,” Evander said awkwardly. “I appreciate it. But I think I’m alright.”
Giles offered him a wan smile.
The show over, the crew ambled off to their duties, leaving Evander and Samara alone.
Samara chewed the inside of her cheek. “If you’re going to lead us into battle, we need you in one piece.”
Evander groaned.
“How did selling us out to Cadmus help you?” Samara asked quietly. “I understand that Valenna was unhappy with Ariadne about the powder, but why turn over Cobblepine when you’re here along with the rest of us?”
Evander let out a long breath and rumpled his hair with his hand. “I think Cadmus may have given her a caladrius bird in exchange for Hera. Valenna needed it to draw the poisonous magic out of me, so she offered him Hera, and she would have had to tell Cadmus the location of the sanctuary.”
Samara stared at the wall. Evander braced for an explosion, but she just stood in numb silence.
“She thought you would run, didn’t she?” Samara sounded melancholy. A hint of pity in her voice. “Valenna thought you would run and go somewhere safe.”
“I think so.”
“And why haven’t you?”
Evander gazed at her, and she frowned.
“We don’t need you.”
With a heavy sigh, Evander stood. “You’re a mess. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up before all that blood dries and we have to scrub it off with a wire brush.”