Silverlight (19 page)

S
weet goddess, she was angry. Kymber unsheathed
her sword and headed straight for her brother.

Portis slipped in the loose stones, righted
himself, and flew like a harrier hawk toward the safety of the house. He
slammed the front door in her face; she buried Promise at least an inch deep in
the wood as it closed.

“I’m going to count to five, Portis. If the
door is not open by that time, it’s coming down.” Kymber took short, agitated
steps back and forth on the wrap-around porch. “One!”

I put my right foot up on the steps and retied
my boot as tightly as I could. Portis wasn’t about to open the door, not when
she’d drawn her weapon. I wouldn’t have either. She was as furious as I’d ever
seen her, that day by the fountain notwithstanding.

We would no doubt have to kick the door down.

“Two!”

There was no response from inside. If he wasn’t
in there searching for a way to escape his murderous sister, he was a damned
fool. Then again, I’d never thought much of Portis. He was a lazy, whining
slug, but I kept my thoughts to myself for Kymber’s sake. She’d loved them all
at one time.

“Three!” Cheeks flushed with righteous anger, Kymber
gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and glared at the door.

“Portis, if you know what’s good for you,
you’ll open the damned door,” I called out.

Kymber’s nostrils flared. “Four!” She
punctuated the count by slamming Promise into the wood again.

I moved up on the porch beside her. “We’ll go
on your word,” I said. She nodded.

I was surprised when the door opened. Portis
stood in the doorway clutching a young girl by the hand. She couldn’t have been
more than ten. Blond hair, sweet face, big brown eyes. He was hiding behind a
child.

“Will you kill me in front of my daughter?”
Portis lifted his chin in defiance.

“Why would you say that? Do I have a reason to
kill you?” Kymber mirrored his movement. “You have the look of a cornered
animal. A
guilty
animal. Have you done something unforgivable?”

I watched him carefully. She was right – he was
hiding something. He certainly didn’t look or act like a brother coming face to
face with a long lost sister.

Kymber stormed through the door and pursued
Portis and the girl, stalking them until the stone fireplace in the sitting
room brought them up short. I followed behind, but I’d made up my mind not to
get involved unless she asked. This was her fight.

“Why did you do that to me?” Kymber kept wary
eyes on her brother but spoke in a calm, even tone. I knew she wouldn’t want to
scare the child.

“It . . . I . . . it was a better option than
having you killed.”

“Selling me to Garai was better than having me
killed?” Kymber shook her left fist at her brother. “Do you have any idea what
I went through?”

Portis grimaced. “You weren’t supposed to go to
Garai. You were supposed to go –”

“Does it matter?” She took a breath. “Why? Why
did you do it?”

He stared at her for a long moment then licked
his lips. “I inadvertently found Father’s Last Will and Testament one day. He
left T’hath to you and Magnus.” He averted his eyes but kept the belligerent
tone. “Not to his three blood sons, mind you. He left the academy to the
unwanted waif he found on his doorstep and the man who was fucking her.”

Kymber hissed loudly. “Were Daxal and Juncor in
on it?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Just Tariq and me.
The fewer who knew what we’d done, the better.”

“What was Tariq’s problem?”

“Jealousy. He was tired of being bested by a
woman.”

“Is that right?” I could hear the incredulous
weariness in her voice. Though most of the T’hath students had respected her,
she’d fought this battle all her life.

Portis shrugged.

“Let me see if I understand.” Kymber pressed
two fingers to her forehead. “I suffered because you wanted T’hath for
yourself. Because Tariq was
envious
of me.” She glared at him. “I wish I
lived in a world where that made sense.”

“At least we didn’t kill you.”

“You say that as though there’s a difference.
Did you truly think selling me to Garai was the more compassionate option?”

I put a hand on Kymber’s shoulder, hoping to
settle her.

“We talked about having you killed, but we knew
Magnus wouldn’t rest until he found those responsible. Then we discussed having
you kidnapped, but the conversation was nearly the same. Magnus would look for
you, find you, and that would never do. Then we discussed having
both
of
you killed, but too many eyebrows would have been raised.” Portis smiled a
ghastly smile. “The battle at Marilian was a ruse. A setup. Tariq and Garai had
arranged to take you by that time, but we knew we had to get Magnus out of the
picture before we could put the rest of the plan into play. Garai arranged to
have a battalion of mercenaries from Pentorus descend on Marilian, knowing
T’hath would respond with warriors. Garai agreed we’d be allowed to turn their
flank on the left side. Tariq would then send Magnus to the right flank, so
there would be no witnesses when he disabled you and delivered you into Garai’s
hands. ”

“What were you going to do if it didn’t work?”
she asked.

“Keep trying until it did, of course. But it
worked beautifully the first time. Garai made sure the mercenaries on his right
flank fought a little harder, to keep Magnus engaged until you were safely on
your way to Pentorus.”

Kymber opened and closed her mouth several
times before she spoke. “Good men died on that field. Innocent men.”

“Of course. All part of the plan. The
gravediggers were fast and efficient, which is what we’d hoped for. Magnus had
to believe you were dead and buried so he wouldn’t search for you. Once the
grave was covered over, Tariq wounded himself and crawled toward it, smearing
blood along the ground. When Magnus showed up later, Tariq fed him a bellyful
of lies. Poor Magnus. He was grief-stricken and persistent, demanding that you
be dug up and retrieved.”

I shook with fury. I remembered that
conversation with my brother as though it had happened yesterday. I spoke up to
fill in the blanks: “Tariq said we couldn’t disturb the grave. That it would be
disrespectful to those buried with her. He said there were hundreds of bodies
in the grave, that she was on the bottom, and we’d never get to her. I slept on
that grave for
weeks
, wishing I’d been thrown in with her. Damn you both
for the lying, deceitful bastards you are.”

Portis pressed a hand to his chest and smiled.
“You wound me, Magnus.”

“You
should
be wounded.” Kymber was pale,
shaking as much as I was. “What did you tell Mother and Father?”

“The same thing Tariq told Magnus. It was a
good story.” Portis stiffened. “I won’t allow you to see them, Kymber.”

“Liar. I can’t see them because they’re
dead
.”

“Oh? And how would you know that?”

“I came here after I escaped from Garai. I hid
in the cemetery and watched you and Tariq shake hands.”

Portis did not appear ashamed to have been
caught in a lie. “He said you’d escaped. I told him I hadn’t seen you, but I’d
kill you if I did. I would’ve done it without a second thought. Everyone
thought you were dead anyway.”

“Were you always this heartless, or did I just
miss it?” she asked.

“You just missed it. I always hated you.”

Her sword hand twitched. “I won’t make that
mistake again.”

“I thought Kymber Oryx didn’t make mistakes.”

Portis was bold and foolish and staring into Death’s
eyes. If Kymber didn’t kill him, I would.

“I trust you won’t be too disturbed to learn
that Tariq is dead. I killed him in Adamar,” Kymber said quietly.

“One less mercenary in Calari.” Her brother shrugged.
“I cared even less about Tariq and Magnus Tyrix than I did about you.”

Kymber’s hand tightened around her sword.
Portis noticed. “So you
are
going to kill me in front of my daughter.”

 “Daxal has obviously fallen hard into his
cups. Where is Juncor?”

“Bedridden upstairs. He had a seizure several
years ago and hasn’t spoken since.”

“And without the other two-thirds of your brain
available to think for you, you allowed this place to slide into ruin. Am I
right?”

“Still so arrogant. I truly thought Garai would
fuck it out of you, but I guess not.” Portis’s eyes glittered with malice.

Oh, gods. Fighting words, if ever I’d heard
them. I expected Kymber to kill him right then and there, but she didn’t move.
I dropped my gaze to Portis’s daughter, but she stared back with a blank
expression, apparently used to such language from her father.

Several tense moments passed in silence. Kymber
finally sighed and squared her shoulders. “I won’t kill you today, Portis. I
want to, but I have more important things to do. Know this – I’m coming back.
I’ll have a knife at your throat when you least expect it, and I will show you
the same mercy you showed me. In the meantime, I condemn you to the knowledge
that you are a failure, both as a businessman and a human being.” She looked at
the girl by his side. “I feel sorry for your children.”

Kymber sheathed her sword, whirled on her
heels, and stormed out the door.

I was right behind her.

W
e left T’hath and headed west for a bit then
turned northward. Neither Magnus nor I had much to say. He was thinking about
his brother. I was thinking about mine. Somehow, between leaving the academy
and my onset of daydreaming, we’d allowed a barrier to grow between us.

I thought I understood. The need to place blame
is strong. Neither of us knew what to do with the anger we felt, so we were
tempted to aim it at each other.

I didn’t like it.

I wondered if you could ever truly trust someone.
I’d heard stories of women killed by husbands they loved simply to make room
for a new wife. Were there no signs? No warnings? It was so hard to believe you
could live with a person for years and years and never see the feral violence
lurking just below the surface.

If nothing else, I’d learned an inescapable
truth: we all carried darkness inside us. Some of us harbored monsters.

My darkness was darker than most. I could never
give voice to the thoughts that banged around inside my skull most days, but I
had never knowingly harmed an innocent. How could Tariq and Portis do that to
their own flesh and blood?

I was deep into my musings when Lady Grey came
to a halt, snorted, and stomped her foot. I grabbed at the reins, but my hands
closed on air. “What the . . . ?” I glanced up to see Magnus watching me with
amusement, holding the reins to my horse. “How long have you been leading me?”

“Long enough. You had such a faraway look on
your face, I was afraid you’d ride off the ridge.”

I shifted in the saddle. “I’m sorry. You
should’ve kicked me or something.”

“No. I want you to work through whatever it is
you’re working through. Tariq and Portis have dealt you quite a blow. Tear it
apart, take a good look at it, then throw it away. You need to have both feet
firmly on the ground when we face Garai.” Magnus tossed my reins back to me and
dismounted.

His tone annoyed me, but he was right. I took
note of the sun sinking into the horizon. Gods, I’d been deep in thought for
most of the day. I’d taken a good look at and discarded quite a few things. An
ongoing process, and not an easy one.

“Are we stopping here?” I asked.

He led Fitz to a nearby tree and secured him to
a low branch. “It’s as good a place as any. The highest ground I’ve seen,
surrounded by thick trees. We’ll be able to start a fire without attracting
attention.”

It
was
high ground, the top of the ridge
so sharp and narrow we’d have trouble finding a level spot to bed down. It was
slow going through the forest, but we’d wanted to stay hidden if possible.

 I peered over the embankment and saw a narrow trail
cut across the side of the mountain. Strange place for a road. There were fresh
wagon tracks pressed into the sandy soil. It still saw use, but by whom?

Magnus unbuckled his bow and quiver from the
saddle. “I’ll be back with something to eat.”

“You hope.” I smiled. He must’ve seen something
on my face that gave him pause. It took him a moment to return the smile.

I spanned the distance between us physically
with three steps. “Listen to me, we were both dealt a blow by family. That
betrayal hurts, and it may take some time to get over, but I don’t like this
coldness between us. It feels like we left what we were to each other back at
T’hath. It’s as though I don’t know you anymore. Maybe you didn’t notice, but
it’s you and me against the world now.”

“It’s always been you and me against the world,
love.” Magnus stared at me for a long moment. “I wouldn’t have it any other
way.”

I fell into his embrace and held on tight. Our
brothers had orchestrated our separation, but they’d failed.

Yes, I wished my abduction had never happened,
but all the pain I’d gone through, every scar I bore on my body, was a step
forward, toward this man. Everything before this moment was yesterday.

I was going to do my part to make sure we
squeezed every drop of good from tomorrow.

W
e roasted a hill hen
over the open fire, talked for a bit, and then we made love on the hard ground
under the endless sky. It felt like the old days.

Magnus fell asleep immediately, one arm thrown
over my waist, his warm breath light against my neck. I couldn’t seem to calm
my mind though. I lay awake, watching the shooting stars caress the sky and
keeping one eye on the fire. It had burned down to dull red embers by the time
my eyelids began to droop.

I had settled into a twilight sleep when I
first heard them. Voices. Female, and far away. I thought I was dreaming, so I
ignored them. Surely, no one else would be on this godsforsaken distant mountain.

 The voices soon grew nearer and louder. A
chorus of woeful female voices, mingled with the strident tones of aggravated
males. The first notes of panic and despair filtered through my drowsiness.

I sat up when I heard a man shout, “I’ll kill you!”

Magnus’s arm slid off me. He sucked air,
mumbled, and rolled over. Gods, the man slept like the dead.

I tipped my head to one side and trained my
ears. Not just voices now. Hooves against bare earth, wagon wheels, horses
snorting. Whoever was on this mountain with us was on the narrow road just
below the ridge.

“Get back in line, ya filthy bitch, or I’ll cut
yer throat right where you stand!”

I threw off the blanket, snatched Promise from
the ground, and strapped the baldric across my back. Crouching, I headed toward
the road. Torchlight spilled through the trees. Discordant noises came with it:
sobbing, desperate pleas to be returned home. More than a few young females, I
thought. 

What was going on down there?

I crawled on hands and knees through the trees
and peered down over the rocks to the road below. Everything in me went silent
and cold, as still as death.

It took me the span of a heartbeat to
understand what I saw. Five men, mounted on horses and armed to the teeth,
headed up a very sorry parade.

Behind them trailed a long line of girls. Some
of them just children, no more than eight or nine. Many of them grown, some barely
into womanhood.

How did I know?

All of them were as naked as the day they were
born, bound together by their wrists.

Blood roared in my ears as I fought for air.
Slaves. These women would end up on the auction block, sold as slaves to the
highest bidder. Sold to men who would beat them, use them, do unspeakable
things to them. Some of these poor girls would sink into madness.

A slow heat began to build inside me. No. Not
tonight, not if I had anything to say about it.

I had to be careful though. A half-dozen
mounted men brought up the rear, herding the women forward.

I smiled as my inner savage screamed inside my
skull.

Imagine that. I fought pretty well on
horseback.

I
waited
until the last slaver passed, then
slipped silently down the bank and onto the
road, following twenty paces behind. I stayed hidden in the shadows of the rocky
cut, walking as fast as I could without making a sound.

The men murmured to each other in a strange
tongue while they passed a wineskin between them. Probably half drunk, so I
wasn’t worried about taking them out.

No, I was more worried about spooking their
horses. The move I’d planned was spooky enough.

I kept one eye on the bank, searching for a low
branch or sapling that had taken a strong hold in the rocks. We had just
reached a bend in the road when I struck.

Running as fast as I could, I hit the bank,
boots flat and seeking purchase. I was a bird taking wing, my momentum carrying
me forward. More importantly, my right hand opened flawlessly as I reached. My
hand closed around the sturdy branch hanging over the trail and held. I pulled
my feet up and aimed the toes of my boots at the rump of the nearest horse.

 I let go of the branch, drew my sword, and
flew, my eyes fixed on a spot behind the saddle. Promise came around as though
she had a life of her own just as I landed behind my first victim.

I pulled the blade hard across the man’s
throat. Blood sprayed outward in an arc, all over the horse, the ground, my
arms, my hair. I threw the slaver from the saddle and spurred the horse hard,
forcing the animal to surge forward, even as it reared up on its hind legs.

 I held on and jerked the reins to one side, guiding
the horse’s solid body across the road, blocking the men from the girls ahead
of them. 

The slavers brought their horses to a skidding
halt and stared. I must’ve looked a sight with my wild eyes and fierce grin, my
hair soaked with the blood of their companion. “That’s right. This mistake will
be your last.”

I dug my heels into the horse’s bellowing
flanks and forced it down the center of the road, between the men. My sword
lived up to her name as I cut them all down on my first pass through. Not one
of them tried to pull a weapon.

The girls in the rear turned to watch. It
didn’t take them long to realize I was there to help. They wailed and cried
loudly to mask any noise I made. I appreciated the cover, but they needn’t have
worried. The cowardly slavers died without uttering a sound.

I pressed a bloody finger to my lips, beseeching
the girls not to reveal my presence to the other slavers. The darkness could
not hide the relief I saw on their faces. An older girl near me nodded and
pulled the others aside to let me pass.

I spun the horse around in a cloud of dust and
headed toward the front. None of those bastards knew retribution was coming up
fast behind them.