CHAPTER 40 #2
“Ow – hells!” Sebastian hissed, jerking back. His hand flew to his arm, and his fingers came away warm and red. She’d actually cut him. Drawn blood.
Not bad.
He started to grin at her but stopped when he saw her face. Kara looked horrified.
“I’m so sorry–” she began but he waved her apology away with a bloodied hand.
“Don’t be. It was good,” he assured her, smiling despite the sting. “Not many get a hit on me.”
“Let me heal you,” she insisted, taking a step towards him.
He chuckled. “I’ve got it,” he said. With a light wave of his hand, emerald shot out, controlled and effective.
The cut disappeared at once. The flow of blood stopped.
He realised he hadn’t thought twice about using the healing magic now at his command.
Thornes didn’t heal – they endured, fought through the pain.
Kara had changed that, changed him. Really, her way made a hell of a lot more sense.
Or maybe I’m going soft.
Kara eyed his freshly healed skin and rocked back on her heels. Something flared hot and sharp through their bond. Not relief... something similar to disappointment. He didn’t understand.
“What?” he asked, frowning.
“I like healing you,” she said sulkily.
Sebastian dropped his hand, caught off guard. Of all the things she could have said – she was actually upset that she’d missed a chance to fuss over him. To his own surprise, he laughed. A real, carefree laugh. Her cheeks reddened.
Typical healer.
“Fine then, Healer. Next time, I’ll let you. But you’ve got to land another one on me for that,” he smiled, raising his sword in challenge.
They spent the rest of the fading daylight sparring.
It was like being back home in Thorne. Blades clashing, sweat dripping, breath coming hard.
Except a lot more laughter broke through between strikes when he trained with Kara.
Despite everything, he found it fun. Mostly.
Much to his consternation, she managed to land another two hits – which dented his pride a little.
Still, he let her heal the small injuries without complaint.
Night fell quickly, and soon they were trudging back to their house, utterly exhausted.
Even Sebastian was aching in what felt like every muscle, which meant Kara must be hurting worse.
Their healing could help, but it wasn’t limitless, and they were both suffering the deep fatigue from overused magic and pushing limits they’d never tested before.
Kara was dead on her feet. But she never mentioned it. She took everything in her stride.
Dinner was waiting for them at the table, still warm. Sebastian practically inhaled his meat pie and thick bread. Kara’s eyelids drooped between bites as Sebastian watched her struggle through the last few mouthfuls. As soon as he was satisfied she’d eaten enough, he stood.
“Come on,” he said. He didn’t wait for her to argue – just lifted her into his arms.
“Sebastian, I can walk–” she protested feebly, her voice trailing off as she melted against his chest.
“Sure you can,” he chuckled, already halfway to the bed. She was asleep the second her head hit the pillow. He made quick work of unlacing her boots and tucked the blanket around her with care.
“Sleep now,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
He kicked off his own boots and collapsed beside her. Kara rolled towards him instantly, reaching for him even in sleep. He tugged her onto his chest, holding her close, and a small sigh slipped from her. Three weeks. Maybe less. But right now, she was here. Warm and safe in his arms.
If this is all I get, it’s enough.
Kara woke to a hawk scratching at the glass not long after dawn, its wings beating against the wood until Sebastian crossed the room and unlatched the window.
The bird hopped onto his outstretched wrist. She sat up groggily as he untied the parchment from its leg, his expression sharpening the instant he saw the Thorne seal.
He broke it open and read in silence, tension on every line of him. Kara rose and padded to his side, watching his frown deepen with every sentence.
“The Council has agreed,” he said shortly.
“Draknor are landing at the western shore. Between Hale and Caldris. The beach at Menslach Bay. Galen pulled it from the scout’s mind himself.
The Drakens have a weapon. They call it the Dracanth, but the Council don’t know what it can do.
The man died before they could get any more information. ”
“He died?” Kara asked, shocked.
“Forced mind interrogation is forbidden for a reason,” Sebastian said grimly. “Galen went deep.” He looked back to the parchment. “All Houses have been called to fight.”
His hand lowered slightly, but he didn’t continue. Kara frowned. “Sebastian. What else?”
He hesitated, and wouldn’t look at her. Apparently the Thorne seal had become very interesting to him. When she held her hand out for the letter, reluctantly, he passed it to her.
Kara’s gaze dropped to the neat black script. She read quickly, skimming – then stilled.
Lord Hale has refused to march. He will not stand where you do. Considers you both traitors still. His oath is broken.
Her breath left her sharply, the words a physical blow. She stared at them until they blurred.
No. That can’t be right.
“No,” she said, as her hand trembled. “He wouldn’t...”
But there was more to the letter.
Durent are angry. Asking Lord Hale why they should bleed whilst he hides. Sorrel have threatened to withhold grain shipments. I do not know if it will be enough. But the rest of the Council hope healers will come despite his wishes.
The bond filled with the raw ache tearing through her chest. Betrayal. Grief. Shame. She shook her head as if she could erase the words, but she would not cry. She wouldn’t.
“My own father... he would rather let Vallenna fall than fight beside me? He would throw away Hale’s oath for his pride?”
Sebastian’s hand found hers before she even realised she’d reached for him. “Kara–”
She choked out a laugh, a bitter humourless one. Some part of her brain thought errantly that she’d learnt that from Sebastian.
“I thought... I thought if he saw the truth, if he had to choose between me and the end of the world–” She broke off, anger warring with the sadness inside of her. “How can he hate me so much?”
Sebastian pulled her against him. “If Alaric Hale can’t see how brave you are, how incredible, then fuck him,” he said fiercely against her hair. “Let him rot in his manor whilst the rest of us save the realm.”
After a long moment she drew back and met Sebastian’s gaze. “Healers, though. Vallenna needs Healers. You and I can’t tend an army. We can’t hold a battlefield with only us two to mend the wounds. If Hale won’t come...”
The rest of the words were lost, the thought too awful to speak. She looked to the floor. Sebastian caught her face in his hands, forcing her gaze to his.
“Then we’ll fight harder. Train harder. I’ll stand between you and every blade if I have to. And the rest of Vallenna – the other Houses, they’ll stand too. We’ll make do without Hale.”
“But we shouldn’t have to.” She shook her head, the words too hollow, too reckless. “This is all my fault.”
“This is not your fault. Don’t ever think that. Your father made his choice, no one forced him. This lies at his door.”
I can’t let Father do this.
“I’ll go to him, to Hale. I’ll beg him if I have to.”
The bond jolted with his fury before he even spoke. “Absolutely not.” His grip on her was fierce. “You’re not stepping beyond this shield. Not for Hale, not for anyone.”
“Sebastian–”
“Write to him, if you must,” Sebastian snapped. “But you will not ride into that den alone.” His voice cracked despite his resolve. “If you go to Hale, Kara, I’ll follow you even if it kills me. And it may well do. Hale isn’t safe. For either of us–”
“But–”
“I have no intention of losing you to your father’s whims.”
“Fine,” she muttered, knowing there was little point in arguing, and frustratingly, he was right. “I’ll write.”
She pulled away from him and crossed the small room, snatching up fresh parchment and ink from the desk. Her quill scratched against the page, several times. She crossed out, rewrote, picked up more parchment, until finally:
Father,
No matter what you feel for me, Vallenna needs its healers now more than ever. I beg you, march to the border with the other Houses. You need not stand with me on the battlefield. We need not even speak.
But please, just come.
Our people will die if you don’t.
Your daughter,
Karalynna
She re-read it three times, doubted herself several more, but eventually folded it neatly and sealed it with plain wax that she pressed with her thumb.
Kara didn’t look at Sebastian, though she could feel the anger radiating from him.
She only tied the message to the waiting hawk’s leg and watched as the bird took flight into the pale morning sky, its wings carrying her plea to her father.
He’ll come. He has to.
Sebastian left hurriedly after that to borrow another bird from the Fatàn hawk master and write back to his father.
The days blurred after that, marked by hawk messages and training.
Tobias wrote back swiftly, his words brisk and sharp.
Thorne’s army was being marshalled, as well as axe men and archers from Durent and Sorrel.
Scouts had been sent. Navyrian ships had sailed.
Sebastian read the letters aloud, then scrawled answers late into the night.
Sorrel will take the mountain ridges. Their archers have the range to shoot Drakens before they reach the field.
Sebastian wrote his reply by candlelight, expression severe.
Station Durent behind them. If Draknor take the ridges, Sorrel will need Durent axes, not bows, to hold the line.
Another hawk came the next dawn.
Lyra sends their fearcasters. They will weaken the enemy ranks, scatter their resolve. But it will not stop them all. When the line breaks, you and Kara must be ready.