Chapter 2
Eldric
T he cleric’s voice carried such command that Fulke stopped, and Eldric couldn’t breathe. Not because of the weight of the guard’s hand upon his neck or the twisted rope biting into his skin, but from the last kind voice he thought he would ever hear saying the last thing he could have imagined. Words were muffled beneath the canvas hood, but he had heard two of them loud and clear: gallows marriage.
Something that only happened in fairytales or books of romance. They weren’t real—no cleric had ever made the offering in his lifetime. To enter a gallows marriage was to entrust your life to the one at the end of the rope. A promise before the gods to reform the person you saved, or forfeit your own life if you failed.
The noose loosened and the crowd roared—cheers and curses both filling the square as it slipped from his neck while the cleric and the guardsman argued. Fulke ripped the hood from his face and Eldric breathed in the crisp air, blinking into the bright, overcast sky. He couldn’t focus on their words, senses flooding back with overwhelming force. Knees buckling beneath him, Eldric toppled over. He couldn’t help but notice the swirling wood grain beneath him as he coughed, hands still bound behind his back.
“Do you accept?” the cleric questioned; frustration was clear in the way her brows creased together, as if she had asked the question more times than she cared to and was still waiting for an answer. Her small frame should have been dwarfed by the tall construct that was the gallows, but somehow, she stood tall. Occupying more space than she logically could have, even with her firm stance and fists placed upon her hips.
“Do I—”
“Accept the offer of a gallows bond, a chance at redemption for your crimes.”
Eldric had never been a man of faith; most of what he knew of the gods and goddesses was in the form of forgotten hymns and prayers learned in childhood. He glanced at the constellation of stars embroidered along the shoulders of her deep blue cloak and his stomach twisted into more knots than he could imagine. His tongue ran across his dry, cracked lips as he looked around him and weighed his options .
“Do I even have a choice?”
“Yes.” The cleric blinked up at him, unphased. “It’s this, or death. I assume you’d prefer the former.”
A half-choked laugh escaped him at her boldness, pulling his gaze back down to study her. So matter-of-fact, so calm, as if saving people from death’s door was a normal occurrence. Perhaps it was—the life of a cleric was unknown to him.
Eldric’s head tilted, watching the woman before him. He wondered if her heart was pounding as fast as his was now. “When you put it that way…” he hummed, feeling rage roiling off Fulke as he pretended to deliberate. “I accept.”
“Perfect,” she said, eyes narrowing in the guard’s direction with a wave of her hand. Free him , she commanded without a word. Eldric bit back a yelp of pain as the guard yanked the chains binding his shackles together and pulled him to stand.
“You’re lucky she has a bleeding heart,” Fulke hissed. The sound of the key sliding home into the shackles could be heard above his voice as it turned once, then twice. It was the sound of freedom that had Eldric breathing the smallest sigh of relief. His chest trembled as he glanced through the crowd, and scanned the tops of the surrounding buildings. Disappointment burned in the back of his throat as he failed to find his closest friend. He had thought that Daeson, before anyone else, would have saved him.
“Sorry to disappoint, Fulke. You’ll have to fantasize about someone else’s death now that I’m under the protection of the Order.” Eldric hoped his smirk didn’t falter as he rolled his wrist. His heart pounded, head rushing. Standing on the box and feeling the rope cut into his skin—death had been too close.
“I have no worries, Lorecaster. You’ll be back with that pretty little cleric at your side soon enough. Poor girl doesn’t know the mistake she’s made putting her faith in you. An oathbreaker like you will never change.”
Anger flashed through Eldric, his hands moving before his mind could register the fistful of Fulke’s shirt within them. Eyes blazing, magic sparking to life. The guard sneered, knowing he’d struck a nerve. Their voices raised, fighting for dominance over each other before the cleric’s commanding voice cut through them both, strong enough to make them freeze.
“ Enough! ”
He didn’t know how she managed to look down on them with disapproval when she was ten feet below them, but she did. It was the disapproval only a holy person could muster .
“Stop provoking him or I will have you taken to tribunal for obstruction of the Order,” she said, admonishing Fulke as if he were a child. Eldric couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him as he watched the vein running across the guard’s forehead bulge as he ground his teeth.
Protection , Eldric mouthed.
“And you—” she continued, turning on Eldric as he released the fistfuls of fabric. Her eyes simmered with uncertainty, lips pressing together as she searched for her words. “Get down here. Don’t make me regret this.”
Eldric’s palms faced outward as he stepped back toward the stairs, silently making his way down the scaffold. He didn’t want to tempt fate further, fearing she would change her mind and he would have to feel the weight of his body send him to his death.
“Our binding will be within the temple at first light,” the cleric declared as Eldric came to her side, Fulke following close at his heels. She sidestepped the thief, standing between him and his guard with her chin tilted upwards in defiance. “Bring your commander.”
Fulke fumed, pulling his shoulders back to appear larger—more intimidating. It made Eldric’s skin crawl, sitting wrong within his bones having another person defend him. He almost pushed her away, took his rightful place in the path of Fulke’s fury, but he saw the set of her jaw and knew she wouldn’t allow it.
“You will regret this,” the guardsman seethed. “If you were smart, this is the last man you would take in a gallows marriage. He will break his oath to you as well. Next time, you should research the man you’re saving before enacting your romantic fantasies. Not that there will be a next time.”
“Are you done?” she asked, crossing her arms.
A growl ripped itself from Fulke’s throat as he pushed forward, knocking the cleric’s shoulder as he stormed off.
Eldric could have sworn he heard her curse him beneath her breath as she shook her head. She gave a sigh, pinching between her brows as if he were the greatest headache she had ever encountered. Her clear grey eyes were scrunched as she shook her head with a muttered prayer, her light hair framing her face in delicate tendrils. He watched as she rolled her shoulders back, standing tall as she extended her hand. Even with the braided coronet woven across her head, she didn’t come to his chin.
“Lorali Wynmar, High Cleric of Ostara,” she said. Her small frame looked as if he could toss her over his shoulder with ease, or that a strong wind might take her. But the steel bracers he had noticed when their blood-soaked hands were clasped said this was a woman formidable in her own right. That if the Order had not claimed her, she would have been a force for change in the world.
“My... wife?” Eldric hesitated on the word, watching the way color rose high in her freckle-smattered cheeks as the wind blew stray hairs into her face.
“Not yet, but soon to be,” she said, brushing the hairs away when he didn’t take her hand. Lorali took his forearm instead and pulled him behind her. “Follow me. We have much to discuss.”
It was not a question.
She wove through the crowd with expert ease, dragging him behind, and leaving Eldric to apologize in her wake. They quickly made their way out of the crowded square and through the back alley. Neither of them said anything to break the silence as they continued to walk toward the edge of the city. He said nothing, instead monitoring his surroundings closely. Looking for any sign that they were being followed by Fulke or someone else deciding to take what they believed to be justice into their own hands. His hopeful gaze mistaking every set of inky hair and dark eyes amongst the crowd for Daeson.
The scent of herb-crusted meats and root vegetables wafted through the air, and when the cleric’s stomach growled so loud it caught even his attention, he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “You sound hungrier than me, and I haven’t eaten in days.”
“Days?” she asked.
“Why waste food on those you’re planning to execute?” he responded, voice grim.
Her pale lips tipped downward, eyes scanning every vendor along the road until she found one that caught her attention.
“We should eat,” she said, inclining her head toward a rough lean-to propped against a wall. Eldric’s mouth watered at the thought of food, but he froze as she ordered two roasted potatoes spiraled onto a stick. It was a questionable place to eat at best, a place he would get a bad case of food sickness from at the worst. Compared to the other overwhelming and savory smells filling the crowded streets, the meager lean-to was the least impressive stall.
When Lorali held out one of the spiraled vegetables to him, it took everything within him not to immediately grab it.
“I don’t have money,” he said, unable to help the way his mouth watered as the smell of butter and spring onions from the neighboring flatbread stall made his own stomach growl in response. He doubted he should start off whatever their little agreement was with stealing his own food, but he was close to doing just that if he wasn’t removed from the temptation.
“I didn’t ask if you had money to pay.” She shook her head, holding out the skewer towards him. “I said we should eat. Now take it.”
Eldric blinked, looking to the questionable vendor behind her, then back to the food before him. He would gladly take anything, even poorly seasoned, if it meant satisfying the pit within his stomach. He took a bite, a groan escaping as he savored the subtle flavor of dried herbs mixed with the crisp roasted potato. Then again, who was he to judge a man’s cooking capabilities based on his facilities? He was a convict, a crook.
Oathbreaker , Fulke had called him.
That word pierced his heart. Burned like acid and he tried to shove it down with every bite as they walked in relative silence, filled only by the sounds of their footsteps and the crunch of food.
“A thank you would be nice,” Lorali finally said, breaking their silence.
“For this?” He waved the half-eaten potato in his hand.
“Yes, the potato. Of course.” Sarcasm dripped from every word. “I saved you.”
“I never asked you to.”
“You were going to die. ”
Eldric shrugged, taking another bite. “And what if I was okay with that?”
Lorali did not falter in her questioning. “Did you want to die?”
“Does it matter now?”
He continued to eat his potato in blessed silence when she didn’t respond, following her wherever she was leading him. He could run, damning her to deal with the consequences for letting him escape. But what Fulke said was stuck beneath his skin, a splinter wedging itself deeper until it was all he could feel. Unable to move forward until it was removed.
“What if your soul would not have been granted passage?” she asked.
“I didn’t choose to have you petition Athanasios due to his sunny disposition.” Eldric snorted, shaking his head. He looked to the woman at his side as they ascended the stone stairs up the hillside. “This seems like an unfair amount of one-sided questioning.”
“I don’t hear you asking any questions, now do I?” She picked a spiral of potato and tore it off the skewer instead of biting straight into it as he had.
“Why?”
“Why what? Why am I eating my potato like this?” she hedged. Eldric snorted .
“Yes, that is certainly a curiosity of mine.”
“I look like less of a fool when eating,” she said, placing a finger between her lips and savoring the residual spices.
They walked in silence again, Lorali picking at her potato and Eldric having long since discarded his empty skewer in the nearest bin. Neither of them discussed the question sitting heavy within his chest as the houses became sparse and trees began to rise from the ground, blocking the sunlight and casting shadows that grew long as the sun continued to sink low in the sky.
Lorali fished a set of keys out from beneath her robes as they neared the end of the street. They entered a yard with its small, lush garden just beginning to grow on either side. Ivy climbed high across the stucco and stone, growing wild and embedding itself into the chimney. As she unlocked the door, lights began to flicker on within the home. He stood, rooted to the spot. Could not take another step without knowing.
“Why did you save me?”
Her shoulders tensed as she turned to face him.
“That—” her voice wavered for the first time since he had met her. She pressed her lips together, standing in the large maple doorway that towered above her.
“That is something we talk about over drinks.”