Cursed by Ice (11 page)

Gods, what was he thinking? He was cursed. Cursed to his very soul. He had nothing to offer her. He had come to conquer her city, not to conquer her.

And yet he longed to do just that, he confessed to himself. He had kissed her, but now that he had, he wanted more. So much more. And she, poor little thing, was out of her depth with him. She was innocent and lost. She had no idea what it meant to be wanted by a man. Not really. He had no right, no right at all, to be laying a claim for her in any way. He was simply complicating the matter, making things more difficult than they had to be.

Weysa had brought him from torment for a specific purpose and he must never lose sight of that purpose,
must never forget that his brothers were still suffering wherever they were. He must stay focused on his reasons for being out here.

Simply, he did not want her to die. It shouldn’t be so important to him, the life of one woman. He killed hundreds of men and women every time he laid siege to a city. He had probably even killed young children like her little sisters.

It was why he had never undertaken his brothers’ way of life in the past. He had chosen a nobler path, taking on quests of honor, being the arm of the weak, bringing justice to those who had no other way to find it. He had thrived in that kind of life and he sorely wished he could be doing that now. He could have come to this city on different terms. Freed the enslaved Kithians another way. A way that would not have harmed this innocent woman.

But that was not to be. He had sold his soul at the fountain on Mount Airidara, and now he must pay the price.

But who knew the costs could be so very high? Not he. Certainly not his brothers. But they were all paying for their hubris, and perhaps it was right that they should. They had been selfish, foolish men. Arrogant and conceited.

They deserved nothing less.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

Sarielle could not awaken no matter how bright the daylight around her. Garreth had mounted with her still sleeping and they had ridden with her in blissful unconsciousness. Now she was in a state somewhere between the waking world and the sleeping one. She felt hot and uncomfortable, and the pain she endured was relentless.

“Sarielle. Are we close yet?” Garreth asked her for what she thought might’ve been the third time in as many minutes.

“Hmm?” she said groggily.

“Sarielle!” He reached down and pinched her thigh. She barely registered the new pain while swimming in the miasma of the old. He gave her cheek a short slap and it brought her closer to the surface. She numbly looked around. Then up.

“They’re here,” she whispered as she saw, way up in the sky, the reeling and drifting bodies of the wyverns as they flew and played.

“I know. We’ve been seeing them for a couple of hours now. But you have to tell us where Koro is if we’re to help him.”

She came awake a little bit more, trying to sense Koro
with that part of herself that was connected to him. But when she did, the pain became excruciating and she cried out. She had not realized just how much she had been trying to distance herself from him until just then.

“Easy,” Garreth soothed her. “Tell us where he is.”

“He is close. I can feel his pain.” Tears seeped into her eyes as she found Garreth’s compassionate and troubled gaze. “There’s so much pain.”

“I know, fira,” he said gently. “But you have to bring him to us. I can’t get you any closer to him without us climbing upward, and you simply do not have the strength.”

“No, I don’t,” she agreed weakly.

“So call him to us, fira. Come on. Your body is weak right now, but your soul is one of fire. Call him to us. Make him come. Make him understand that we can help him.”

“I will try,” she said softly.

She closed her eyes and tried once more to focus on her connection with Koro. She cried out again, but this time she held on to the pain, dove into it rather than away from it. Pressed until she broke into a sweat.

Koro, my love … Koro … you must come to me, Koro. I need you to come
.

She panted for breath as she connected with Koro.

“He is weak. He is confused and in such terrible pain.” She groaned. “He is afraid.”

“It is such a strange concept to me that something so big can be afraid of anything,” Garreth said with a shake of his head.

“He can fear
you
,” she said sharply. “And rightly so, considering what you have done to him.”

“I do not disagree with that. I am merely looking at it from the perspective of a small and insignificant man, versus a great and powerful creature.”

She nodded, closed her eyes, and focused on her connection with Koro again.

Koro, do not be afraid. I will not let anything happen to you. We will heal you. We can make the pain go away
.

She sighed at last. “He is coming.” And then her head lolled back, her eyes shuttering closed.

Concerned, worried that Koro could not sense her if she was unconscious, Garreth tried to reawaken her. He dismounted with her and tried again.

“Fetch me cold water!” he commanded of Tonkin. Tonkin hastened to obey. The other men stood nervously about, their eyes on the sky. The other wyverns were flying so high up that they probably could not even see their group, but the men were not going to rest on that supposition.

Tonkin returned with a flask full of cold water from a nearby stream and Garreth immediately upended it on Sarielle’s face. She came to with a gasp of breath, sitting up in his arms too quickly. Pain lanced through her.

“Easy, fira,” he soothed her. “He is coming. Hold on to that knowing. He is coming.”

“Yes,” she breathed, looking up to the sky.

Then, from a point along the stony mountainside, a huge body leapt into the air above them. It reeled and then began to fall. Its movements were awkward, flailing. He was too weak to carry the weight of his own body.

“No!” she cried as she saw Koro plummeting toward the ground.

“Easy. He can make it. Watch,” Garreth said, grasping her hand and holding her close to his body for support.

And sure enough, at the last minute, Koro got his wings under him and broke almost all of his descent. He still hit the ground thunderously hard, the impact
and slide of his monstrous body kicking up stones and dust all around them.

Sarielle tried to push her way free of Garreth’s hold, but she was far too weak to do anything but bat at his hands ineffectually. He gingerly laid her back on the rocks, and grabbing the intimidated mem by the hand, he hurried over to the wyvern. Its body was laboring for breath, each one chuffing out hard. And there, in its belly, were the two festering wounds made by Dethan’s sword in Garreth’s hands.

The great beast groaned and growled, and Garreth heard Sarielle cry out, “It’s all right, my love! He will not hurt you this time.”

There was another loud protest, and a talon-tipped wing whipped sharply past Garreth’s face. If he hadn’t jumped back so quickly, the talon would have opened up his throat.

“Enough!” Sarielle scolded sharply, clearly using the last of her strength. “Please, Koro. Let him help us.”

The wyvern settled down, breathing hard, its shiny black eye watching as Garreth moved closer, dragging the frightened mem with him.

“She’ll help heal you,” he said to the wyvern, hoping it understood since Sarielle had slumped over, her eyes rolling back in her head. The wyvern followed her into unconsciousness shortly after, and the mem was finally persuaded to move up to the large reptilian body. She examined the wound closely.

“It festers like hers does,” she said in her high, scratchy voice. “But I believe I can help.”

“Then do so. Quickly,” Garreth urged her.

It took time for the mem to heal. And during that time Garreth paced the rocky landscape, one hand gripping his sword’s pommel and the other on his hip. He kept one eye on the mem and the beast and the other on Sarielle. He was like a man waiting on his wife to give
birth. Powerless to do anything but wait and see what the goddess of fate had planned for them. But Hella was a capricious goddess and, it was said, she was a little bit insane. There was never any telling which way she would play her cards.

Nearly three hours went by before he could see anything resembling a good sign. Then he looked at the wyvern and saw that the scales of its hide were now clean, free of the taint of infection … although still far from being healed entirely. The iridescent scales shone in the sunlight, and every so often he saw something glittering in them. Gemstones, he realized. The wyvern had gemstones stuck between its scales. It was something he had seen before. On dragons. They often slept upon their hoarded treasures, all things shiny and glittering attracting their attention and making it onto the pile. As they slept, things like coins and gems would work their way in between the scales and make the beast appear to be jewel encrusted.

There seemed to be a lot of red gems in this one’s hide. There must be a rich store of the ruby substance somewhere close by.

Garreth stopped his pacing and moved to Sarielle’s side. He gently tried to rouse her as he untied the closure of her robe and exposed the wounds on her belly.

Better. They looked better. Much better, he thought with relief.

“Sarielle?” he called to her. But she did not respond until he said, “Fira, your wyvern is healing.”

Her lashes fluttered up, her eyes opening.

“Good,” she said on an exhalation. “Thank you. So much. I know you didn’t have to do this.”

“Of course I had to do this,” he said. “I wasn’t about to let you die. You are innocent in all of this.”

“Not so innocent. I made him attack you in the first place.”

“As I said, you had little choice in the matter. Now rest and heal. We will be able to go home soon.”

She gave him an odd look. “Home? I have no home, now that the bennesah is dead. I do not know what will become of me and my sisters.”

“You do have a home. Your sisters too. You will stay in the keep for all your days, if you so wish it. You will have a privileged place as the city’s wrena. You will be its protector, if you and Koro wish to do so. But you are free to make that choice at any time.”

“Free.” She smiled as she said the word. “I am free.”

“Yes. You are.” He smiled down at her. He understood the value of freedom. He had been a captive on the mountain for hundreds of turnings. He was still a prisoner to it from dusk to juquil’s hour, but the rest of the time he was free … and he enjoyed that freedom to the fullest he could while also maintaining his agreement with Weysa.

What that meant for him now was that as soon as Kith was fully under their sway, he would move on and leave Sarielle behind. They would leave trusted lieutenants behind to run the city in their and Weysa’s names. It would take some time before all that happened of course, but eventually he would move on.

Why was it that the idea of it sat so ill with him? It wasn’t that he didn’t want to fight. This task of conquering cities wasn’t his favorite thing in the world to do, but he would do it as agreed. His freedom for his sword arm. That had been the bargain struck.

So, what was bothering him, he wondered as he watched her drift off to sleep. Something wasn’t quite right. He was certain he would figure it out eventually, but for the moment, it was eluding him.

He moved away and let Sarielle sleep.

CHAPTER
NINE

Sarielle awoke to the sensation of a light, drifting touch on her belly. It reminded her of the delicate caresses Garreth had given to her and she opened her eyes expecting … no … hoping to see him there. But it was the ancient mem who had her hand on Sarielle’s belly.

“Well, you look fine, I say.” Her old voice sounded more weary than usual and her eyes looked worn and dull. She was exhausted. The mem had used every ounce of skill and strength she had to save Sarielle’s Koro. It was a gift Sarielle would never forget.

She took hold of the woman’s gnarled hand and squeezed it tightly as she met her eyes. “Thank you,” she said with all the sincerity in her heart. “Ask anything of me you will and I will gladly do it in repayment.”