CHAPTER 41 #3
She moved without another word to the seat Tobias had gestured to.
Sebastian sat beside her, hand on his sword.
The threat clear. Pure hate emanated from him.
Kaelen and Serena stayed standing, apparently perfectly comfortable.
The conversation began again, stilted at first, edged, the undercurrent of tension too strong for anything else.
Cups of mead were placed in front of them that neither touched.
But soon, Tobias and Galen managed to pull Sebastian into their conversation – Caldris were excellent strategists.
Kara listened attentively as they talked of formations, where best to hold ground, what this Dracanth could be capable of, how they might be able to counter it.
Sebastian told them, briefly, what he had seen in his vision.
What might be coming. Henry did not speak once, didn’t even meet her eye, and Kara was glad of it.
On the other side of the table, Kara could hear Simone speaking quietly with Evelyn about supply for her ships as a Navyrian messenger slipped into the tent, whispering low.
Simone raised her voice, it carrying over the table.
“Word from one of my scouts,” she announced gravely. “They’ll land the day after tomorrow. The tide slowed them.”
“That’s good news, Simone,” Galen blustered. “We have more arriving tomorrow. We’ll have the numbers.”
Kara wished she could feel as confident, but her fear of Sebastian falling–
No.
They had each other. Had given themselves the best chance. She had to hold onto that.
A servant slipped between them, kneeling by the brazier in the centre of the tent. “Shall I bring more logs, my lords?”
Merrick leaned back, red-faced, his mug sloshing in his hand. His mouth twisted into a sneer. “No need. Lady Hale could do it. She knows all about firewood.”
Silence fell.
“W–What?” Kara stuttered.
Merrick grinned, mean-spirited. “Or perhaps not. She is known to run from the flames.”
The words landed like ice over her. One of Merrick’s sons gave an ugly guffaw.
The pyre, the smoke, the rope – all flashed violently in her mind before the bond flooded with Sebastian’s rage, the fierceness of it pulling her back before she lost herself.
The casual cruelty of it had her frozen in place – she couldn’t bring herself to move, or speak.
Galen shifted uncomfortably as Evelyn stared at Merrick, and Elias looked horrified. But none of them said anything.
Sebastian stood slowly, towering over them, crimson spilling over his hands. “If anyone speaks to my bondmate like that again,” he snarled, low and terrible, “I will kill them where they sit.”
Merrick’s sons sobered instantly, their smirks vanishing. Even Merrick himself blanched, but he forced a brittle laugh, lifting his hands as though to wave it away.
“Gods, Thorne, it was only a jest. Poorly chosen, perhaps–”
A jest?
“It was a disgrace,” Tobias interrupted angrily. “You ought to hold your tongue.”
“This was my fault,” Sebastian said, fury rolling off him in waves. “I started this. The Arcanth called and I answered. I took the Shards. Navyrians dead by my hand. Thorne soldiers killed by my blade. All of it on me.”
No. Don’t say that. You did it to save us all.
Merrick’s voice shook when he spoke. “Exactly. Dead by your hand. And we–” his chin lifted stubbornly, “–we allow you here.”
Sebastian barked a humourless laugh. Crimson flared more violently across his skin. “Allow me?” he repeated, his voice deadly. “I do not care what you allow. Without us, you would be ash under Draknor’s fire.”
Kara put a hand on Sebastian’s arm, her body finally moving at her command. He gazed down at her, and she felt his rage cool, just a little.
He took a breath. “Kara only ever wished to serve Vallenna. To heal. To protect every one of you. She told you the truth, and for that you’d have tied her to a pyre.
” He broke off, and the memory flared vivid in her mind.
“And now she sits in your company – still willing to stand beside you – and you mock her? Tell me, Merrick. What kind of man does that make you?”
As Merrick stumbled over what might have been an apology, Kara found her voice. “I would ask respectfully,” she said, “that no one else mentions it in our presence.”
Elias inclined his head. “You have my word.”
Galen gave a grunt that sounded like agreement. Even Simone nodded seriously. Acknowledgment at least. Others followed – awkward, but polite enough. Merrick didn’t. He just stared at his wine. One of his sons turned his face away, refusing to meet their eyes.
“Are we finished here?” Sebastian asked coldly.
No one spoke. But Tobias’s sharp nod was all the permission they needed.
Sebastian pulled Kara to her feet and together they walked out into the cool evening air, Kaelen and Serena close behind.
As they ducked under the tent flap, Kara heard Simone say disapprovingly, “I tolerated them at this table, Merrick. You should have too.”
Veyra was waiting for them by their valmares and nodded her head towards the east side of the camp, furthest away from the others, where Fatàn had nearly finished pitching their tents.
It shimmered slightly with an arc of ruby light, a protective shield already laced into its perimeter.
Just like the one that appeared around them as they walked, Serena’s palms glowing ruby.
Sebastian’s hand found the small of Kara’s back.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied shakily, even as the stares followed them. She kept her head down, refusing to look.
The word traitor clung to them.
“You shouldn’t have to bear this–” Sebastian began, as his arm tightened around her waist.
A breathless voice sounded behind them. “Kara–”
Henry.
He spoke before she’d even opened her mouth, the words coming out in a rush.
“I wanted to say – needed to say – the magic I used on you–” he stopped at the look on Sebastian’s face.
“I shouldn’t have. And I shouldn’t have spoken against you.
At your trial. I should have trusted you,” he said too quickly. “I’m really sorry.”
Kara glanced at Sebastian’s expression. He looked like he’d happily kill Henry just for speaking to her.
“Thank you,” she said. “Let’s just all stay alive, Henry. That will be enough.”
He nodded, looking like he wanted to say more, but instead he turned and walked back to the Council tent.
“Fucking Caldris,” Sebastian growled.
“At least he apologised,” Kara said, and she glanced over her shoulder to where Henry had been stood. Sebastian only glared. She sighed inwardly. “It can’t hurt to have allies, Sebastian.”
His crimson crackled angrily at her words as they kept moving towards the Fatàn encampment. “I hate that you have to be here, amongst them,” he said fiercely. “What your father said, what Merrick said–”
“We’ve lived through worse,” Kara pointed out.
“I know you pretend their words don’t touch you, but I felt it–”
“I know,” she interrupted gently. “But they don’t deserve our attention.”
Sebastian fell quiet, clearly brooding. The moment they crossed into Fatàn’s camp, the air shifted, the shimmer of the large ruby shield wrapping them in its safety.
The sounds of the wider camp muted and their smaller personal shield dissolved.
Already, Veyra’s people had raised a large tent at the eastern edge – set apart, guarded, prepared especially for them.
“You must rest,” Veyra said, gesturing to it.
“Thank you,” Sebastian said as he held the tent flap open for Kara.
She ducked under it quickly.
One more day.