Silverlight (15 page)

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Authors: S.L. Jesberger

BOOK: Silverlight
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“I love you,” he whispered, his voice cracking
with emotion.

I let his admission hang in the air for a
moment before I answered, shocked at the venom in my voice. “If you truly loved
me – if you’d truly been
listening
– you wouldn’t have done this.”

32:
MAGNUS

 

“T
omas! Are you out there?”

I stared at the back of the heavy dresser
through the open privy door. Evidently, Kymber was much stronger than she
looked.

My stomach churned. Making a bad situation
worse had always been my special talent. I’d just found her. I didn’t want her
to go.

Begging, pleading, I’d followed her upstairs.
As she silently gathered her things with brutal efficiency, I again made the
colossal mistake of telling her I’d set up the confrontation with the false
slaver for her own good.

I’d gotten away with saying it once. I was not
so lucky twice.

I had no weapon. Swearing through clenched
teeth, she’d forced me into the privy at sword point, slammed the door shut,
and dragged every dresser and bureau in the room across the entrance. The
furniture was at least three layers deep out there. I could’ve lowered myself
out the window, but I knew better than to attempt an escape while she was
packing.

After a few tense moments of muffled bangs and
slams, it went quiet.

I scrubbed my face with both hands and dropped
to my knees. “You idiot. You’ve lost her. The love of your life. Idiot!”

I knew very well Garai hadn’t composed sonnets
or brought her flowers. The scars, the hand, the cage. I’d watched her struggle
with her memories. She was sleeping in my bed because of the nightmares. Why
was I so damned blind?

Her experiences had honestly felt abstract to
me, as though they’d happened to someone else. I was just so grateful she was
here, alive and talking, that I didn’t
listen
. Why didn’t I
listen
?

I pounded my fists against the side of my head,
the agony of loss devouring me.

I was sure a young girl in trouble would light
a fire inside her. And it had, but I’d hit her hard – betrayed her – by using
her experiences against her. Gods, I was no better than my lying brother.

I sat back and stared at the wall, my chest in
knots. I had no right to go after her. Perhaps she’d calm down and come back.
Mere words wouldn’t be enough, but I’d be waiting with a sincere apology if she
did.

I just had to get out of the damned privy
first.

33:
KYMBER

 

A
fter securing Magnus in the privy, I grabbed my
things and stalked down the stairs.

Yes, I knew Magnus had procured my clothing and
sword for me. Perhaps I should’ve left them there, but I needed them. I wasn’t
feeling particularly reasonable or magnanimous at the moment.

I chose a gray mare from the stable, tacked her
up with reins and a bit, and threw a sheepskin over her back. I preferred to
ride that way anyway. I’d always thought saddles were pretentious.

I led her out of the barn and ran straight into
Tomas.

“Here now! Where are you going with that
horse?” he shouted, waving his finger in the air, though he made no move to
come closer.

“I’m leaving.” I pulled my sword. “Stand
aside.”

“I will not.” He stiffened. “Where is Magnus?
Does he know you’re stealing his horse?”

I didn’t want to explain what I’d done. It was
none of his business anyway. I leapt onto the mare and headed toward Adamar at
a full gallop, Tomas’s indignant shouts ringing in my ears.

I stopped after a while and dismounted. I’d
been in such a hurry to leave that I hadn’t thought of taking food from the
kitchen. Nor did I have money. I didn’t care so much about the food but being
without coin complicated the situation.

No matter. I’d sell the horse when I got to
Adamar if I had to. I didn’t owe Magnus a damned thing.

I sighed and sat down beside a rock along the
road. That was anger talking. I owed Magnus my life. 

I understood why he’d done it. That training
method was often used on the students at T’hath with glorious results. I truly
did respond to provocation by hitting back hard. Nothing was off limits,
including family, but it hadn’t felt cruel or hurtful then. It made me strong,
ready for anything. I enjoyed digging deep for that extra spark of strength.

Why did this hurt so much?

His little ruse truly had forced me up to the
next level. I fought as though I were the one bound and kneeling on the ground.
Isn’t that what we’d both wanted? Well, it was what
he
wanted, but I was
happy just swinging a sword on his beautiful beach or up behind the house. I
never intended to fight again.

Maybe that was the difference. Training was one
thing, but I had fought, really
fought
, for the young girl by the
fountain. I was eighteen summers when Garai took me. She was no older than
fourteen – too damned young to be abused the way I was.

I didn’t want to be the defender of kidnapped
girls. I didn’t want to be anyone’s defender but my own, but…

What if everyone looked the other way when evil
reared its ugly head? If I didn’t fight for the defenseless, who would?

Damn you, Magnus.
I was not quite as
angry with him as I had been, but I still didn’t want to go back to Seacrest.
Perhaps I’d just ride into Adamar and have a look around. I hoped Jarl Aldi
wouldn’t mind playing host to my new friend, Lady Gray, and me.

I mounted the mare again, wondering if I’d
found a purpose.

Were there other captive women locked away in
Calari?

Could I help them?

 

 

T
he city of Adamar lay
before me, a thin line of dark buildings against a gold and violet sky. The
night was humid and warm; stars had begun to flicker in the twilight. Lady Gray
neighed a question at me when I dismounted.

“We’re going to walk the rest of the way,” I
said in response. “It will be good for both of us. You’ll get me off your back,
and I can use the time to think about how I feel.”

The horse nickered and tossed her head. It
sounded as though she were scolding me.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think he means to be
an ass. At least not all the time, but you’re right.” I sighed. “He meant well,
but he should’ve known better.” I lifted a tearful gaze to the stars overhead.

My life had certainly followed a twisted path. I
began life unwanted, but fate had placed me as an infant on the doorstep of
T’hath, the best possible place to grow up.

It had been enough then. Why did I feel so
restless now?

Perhaps it was because I’d never been this far
south. Perhaps it was because I’d come to the conclusion that I was just a
small drop of water in a very large ocean.

The continent of Calari had been the subject of
many long and boring lectures in T’hath classrooms, but I never realized how
vast this land was. A map in a book was one thing. Seeing it for oneself was
quite another.

I’d rarely been outside the borders of
Aestakor, preferring to stay near Jalartha and T’hath and everything I held
dear. I hadn’t realized just how deep my roots were, how much I’d loved the
place. Perhaps that’s why I’d headed for home after I’d escaped, though I knew
it would be the first place Garai and Tariq looked for me. They didn’t
disappoint.

I suppose it was the sense of belonging, of
working toward a greater good. I was, after all, the only female to ever part
the mysterious curtains of the T’hath Academy, once Calari’s training ground
for excellence.

 Our students came from every corner of the
land to study with us: green recruits, misfits, men the size of small bulls. We
sent them home as skilled fighters. Some of the men went on to be mercenaries,
though no one truly knew how many. Most of the graduates went home to train
militias in their own kingdoms.

My parents tried to keep me away from the men
and the fighting. They might as well have tried to stop the sun from rising.
There was just something about a gleaming sword that spoke to me.

 Swords were off limits, of course, but I
finally stole one from my oldest brother Portis and went to work inside my
family’s horse barn. It was a ceremonial blade – too large and too heavy – but
I had a more potent weapon.

 Sheer force of will.

My brother Daxal noticed all the deep cuts on
the barn’s wooden beams and hid inside one of the stalls, hoping to catch the
person doing the damage. He’d had no idea his little sister was responsible.

The day he caught me was the turning point for
my six-year-old self. Daxal grabbed me by the scruff of my tunic and quickly
disarmed me, then dragged me back to my parents.

Every person in my family took a turn at
scolding me, but I wasn’t about to give up once I’d held a blade in my hand. I
gave free rein to defiance, clinging to the fence surrounding the training
yard, screaming at the top of my lungs every time my brothers tried to pull me
off.

My exasperated father allowed me to train
outside the fence with a wooden practice sword when I turned eight, certain it
would be too strenuous for me. The instructors were soon chiding him to allow
me inside. I was as good as any of the students, they said, and Father
reluctantly agreed.

Some of the recruits didn’t take it well, of
course. I suppose no man enjoys being bested by a woman. Most of the men were
able to look past my gender, but Magnus . . . that cocky bastard had looked
straight into my heart.

I still don’t know what it was about him. About
us. He was so damned sure I’d fall for him. I was just as arrogant, playing the
game by his twisted rules for the sole purpose of crushing his heart beneath my
boot.

We were nothing but children then. Innocents. There
were so many hard miles under our feet now. We’d been chewed up and spit out by
life.

What would I find in Adamar? Perhaps the better
question was
whom
would I find? I stared at the distant town and
fingered the leather reins as apprehension whispered in my ear.

Magnus and I weren’t done yet. Not as a couple,
nor as a team. Fate had brought us together for a reason. This battle wasn’t
over. Somehow, our enemies knew we’d found each other.

They’d be coming for us.

Magnus’s slaver trick was cruel and uncalled
for and . . . Well, I’d right that wrong some other time. Now, I stared at the
lights of Adamar and sensed danger. If I’d had any brains, I would’ve turned
right around and gone back to Seacrest. Alone, I was vulnerable.

Still, I had an uncanny sense of destiny.
Adamar pulled me, wanting me to take possession of something, but what? My
life? The future?

Too many questions, and I was exhausted. Jarl
would open his door to me. He’d lend me a sympathetic ear, and that’s just what
I needed. I might yet find that elusive perspective.

 “Let’s go, Lady Gray.” I tugged on the reins.
The horse nickered softly, reluctant to move. “I know. I sense it too. There’s
something out there, but I don’t have time to ponder it. We have to hurry. The
sun will be down by the time we get to Jarl’s place, and I don’t want to be caught
out in the dark.”

34:
KYMBER

 

I
t was still light enough to see when I finally
got to Jarl Aldi’s front door and knocked. “Jarl, are you up there? It’s
Kymber.”

A candle floated to the window; I saw his
concerned face reflected in the light. The door cracked open a few moments
later. “Kymber? What are you doing in Adamar at this hour?” Jarl set his jaw
and swung the door wide. “And whose horse is that?”

“She belongs to Magnus. Is there somewhere I
can put her for the night?”

“There’s a stable out back.”

I gave him my best orphan-waif look. “Do you
have room for me inside, or should I stay in the stable too? I’d appreciate a
blanket or two if I have to sleep outside.”

Jarl sighed. “I wouldn’t make you sleep in the
stable. Come upstairs when you get her settled.”

I nodded and towed Lady Gray into the narrow
alley between his office and the next building.

 

 

I
climbed the stairs up
to Jarl’s rooms, wondering what I should tell him about Magnus and me. There
was no point in trying to hide what happened. Jarl knew both of us too well.

I opened the door to his reading room and
peered in. He was sitting in an overstuffed chair in the corner with a book in
his lap, his glasses perched low on his nose. The look he gave me was typical
Jarl Aldi: stern and sympathetic all at the same time. I stepped the rest of
the way inside and closed the door behind me.

“What are you doing here?” He turned the oil
lamp beside him up a notch, bathing the room in a warm golden light. “And with
Little Doll, one of Magnus’s best horses. Does he know you have her?”

“No, but Tomas does. He’ll tell him, I’m sure.”
I sat on the divan across from him and folded my hands between my knees.

“I see disappointment.” Jarl removed his
glasses and placed them on the book he’d laid on the table. “And a smidgen of
anger. What happened?”

“Magnus crossed a line today.” An
understatement of the highest order. The memory of that poor girl on her knees
still gave me chills.

“Does he know that?”

“He does now.”

Jarl scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his
hands. “Start at the beginning, if you please.”

“I’m not sure I can discuss it yet. Maybe
tomorrow. I just need a place to stay tonight, and…and I wanted to tell you
goodbye. Will you return the horse to Magnus?”

Jarl’s eyes widened a bit. “Where are you
going?” He asked softly, as though I were a wayward daughter making a questionable
decision.

“Back to Jalartha.”

“Why? What’s there for you? Magnus said you
were living in a cave. He said thieves were about kill you–”

“All right!” I waved my hands to silence him.
“Maybe not Jalartha. I have plenty of time to think about where I’m going as
I’m walking.”

Jarl leaned forward, his forearms resting on
his knees, and shook his head. “I don’t know what happened, but you may want to
give this some thought before you go running off.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been with Magnus all these years. I
helped move him to Seacrest once it was built.” Jarl pierced me with one of his
fatherly looks. “That man grieved for you, Kymber. It nearly killed him. He
made an extraordinary effort to drag himself back to the land of the living
when he lost you. Whatever he did to hurt you today . . . well, I feel
comfortable speaking for him – he’s sorry for it. If you leave, it’ll kill him
for sure.” A slight smile played over his lips. “And I don’t think you want
that.”

“No.” I squirmed in the chair. “I don’t.”

“So. What did Magnus do to upset you?”

“Something that reminded me of the time I spent
in captivity.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He . . .” I threaded my fingers together. “He
was trying to motivate me. To fight better, smarter. Nothing else had worked,
and damn him, Jarl, but I don’t
need
to fight like I did before. Why
can’t I make him understand that I enjoy the training, but I’m not the warrior
he remembers? I will
never
be what I was.”

I hung my head. Hearing the truth come out of
my own mouth devastated me, but I was of two minds about it. Perhaps I
was
giving up too easily. I’d tapped into something fierce when I went after
Magnus’s friend. If I did it once, I could do it again. The question was, did I
want to?

What was the last piece of that puzzle? What
was holding me back? It didn’t matter on one hand. I was unlikely to face an
enemy in southern Calari. On the other hand, the ability
was clearly
there. Why couldn’t I raise it to the surface permanently?

My physician friend rose and placed a
comforting hand on my shoulder. “Tell me what he did.”

“Magnus hired people to pose as a slaver and the
girl he’d captured. Gods help me, I was practically frothing at the mouth when
the man challenged me to fight for the girl’s freedom. I went after him with
everything I had in me.” I loosed a breath. “The slaver ended up being a friend
of Magnus’s. The girl I was fighting for was his daughter. I would’ve killed the
man if Magnus hadn’t stopped me.”

“So his little ruse worked?”

“You could say that. Too well, in fact.” Tears
stung my eyes. “Gods, Jarl, I felt like an eagle soaring into the sky when I
pulled my sword. No one saved me, but I was damn sure going to save her. Then
Tyrix snatched me right out of the air and told me what he’d done. I felt sick
and betrayed. I wanted to kill
him
instead.” I slumped, drained by the
incongruous emotions coursing through me. “How is it possible to go from fury
to disappointment so damned fast?”

Jarl sat beside me on the divan. “I don’t
approve of Magnus’s tactics, but he apparently coaxed a bit of the warrior out
of you. Isn’t that worth something?”

“Why do I need to be that woman? Why must I
fight as if my life depends on it? Why does he feel as though he needs to push,
push, push all the time? ‘You give up too easily, Kymber. You don’t want this
badly enough, Kymber.’ Why can’t he just be happy we’re together again?”

“Well, Calari is still a dangerous place.” He
leaned back and smiled. “Magnus pushes you out of fear. Tariq and Garai are out
there somewhere. You may need to call upon your abilities someday.” He took my
face in both hands. “Forgive him. I say this as the friend who watched him
grieve for much longer than he should have. No man has ever loved a woman as
much as Magnus loves you.”

I was silent for a long time. Perhaps Jarl was
right, but I wasn’t going to let that jackass get away with what he’d done. If –
and it was a big
if
– I went back to Seacrest, we were going to have a
long discussion about his “motivation.”

“Can I still stay the night?” I asked. “Or
should I head back?”

“It’s much too late to start for Seacrest now.
Stay the night. Letting Magnus cool his heels and think for a day or two isn’t
going to kill him. I’d be delighted if you’d accompany me to Adamar’s market in
the morning.”

I smiled. “I’m glad I came to see you, Jarl.”

“Me too. Come now, I’ll show you to your room.”

 

 

J
arl and I had just
finished breakfast when a knock came to the door downstairs, followed by the
sound of piteous howling.

“Oh, dear. Someone needs my attention,” said
Jarl. “Come and assist me. Hopefully, it’s not serious.”

It turned out to be Jorge the blacksmith with a
badly burned little finger. The big man moaned and groaned as Jarl guided him
into the back room for an examination.

“This will probably take a while. Here.” Jarl
threw a pouch at me. It jingled when I caught it. “I won’t need you after all,
but I would like a fresh chicken for supper tonight. Are you staying?”

I stared at the blue velvet pouch nestled in my
palm. I didn’t know. My ire had cooled, but I still felt betrayed. Wounded. I
was not yet ready to face Magnus. “I guess so. I’m not sure. We can talk more
tonight.”

Jorge hooted with pain behind the closed door.
Jarl smiled. “Over a bottle of wine. Or several. I think it’s going to be a
long day.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Jarl.” Though it was warm
outside, I grabbed my hooded cloak – no sense borrowing trouble – and off I
went to Adamar’s market.

 

 

T
he smells alone made
coming to market a pleasure. Spits packed with pork, lamb, and beef twirled
over open fires everywhere. The sound of sizzling meat could be heard above the
shouts and haggling.

Smoke smelling of apple wood and savory spices
rolled across my path, causing my mouth to water. I pushed the hood back a
little and used some of the coin to buy ribs from a burly man with the bushiest
mustache I’d ever seen.

 “Marinated two days in the best wine in the
land,” he repeated several times as he wrapped it up in parchment and handed it
to me. “You’ll like this, girly.”

And I did like it. It was some of the best beef
I’d ever eaten.

I dropped off to one side of the street, leaned
against the wall to finish my meal, and studied my surroundings. Adamar was a
city of many colors. Skin tones ranged from pale pink to the darkest brown.
Tall and short, thin and stout. I saw men and women dressed head to toe in
colorful, scarf-like robes. Others were nearly bare, their bodies covered with
dark blue tattoos in strategic places.

No blue eyes though, which didn’t surprise me.
My ear was quick to pick up haggling in other languages, but the common tongue
of Calari drove most of the negotiations in this market.

Food vendors lined both sides of the widest
street in Adamar, most of them directly in front of their inns and eateries. That
made it easy to replenish supplies, as fast as sending a tavern wench to cold
storage or the pantry.

To my right, the street narrowed even more,
channeling patrons past a rich variety of goods. From my vantage point against
the wall, I saw clothing, jewelry, saddles, reins and other leather goods, and
several tables full of fresh produce. Crates of chickens and ducks were stacked
three high near the end of the street.

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