Silverlight (6 page)

Several heart-stopping moments later, I found Kymber
on the ground near a large rock, crying her heart out. I knelt near her.
“You’re safe now.”

“Don’t you understand?” Teeth clenched, she
glared at me. “I will
never
be safe. Men . . . want to . . . they want
to
take
what should be a woman’s to
give
. Brutish beasts who can
do nothing more than–”

I tipped her chin up until her eyes met mine.
“Is that what you think of me? Am I a brutish beast? I have never hurt you. I
would
never hurt you. I loved you, Kymber.” I stopped short of telling her I still loved
her. “Do not judge me by the actions of others.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” I extended a hand. “Come. I’ve
moved our camp away from the bodies so we can eat in peace.”

She huddled against the rock, her eyes closed.
“Leave me, Magnus. I am not whole. I can’t forget. Garai haunts me when I’m
awake and even into my sleep.”

“I will not abandon you again.”

“You did not abandon me the first time.”

“I wasn’t there when you needed me. I won’t
take you anywhere but Adamar. You may as well get it right in your mind that you’re
staying with me until you breathe your last. My compassion is given without
condition. You need not like me, Kymber, but it would mean a great deal if you
would accept my offer.”

“Do you understand I’m not the woman you
remember? If you only knew the things I’ve done, you’d want to cut my throat
too. I have terrible nightmares and . . .”

“I don’t care. I won’t leave you.”

Hiding her face in the crook of her arm, she
shook with sobs. I waited patiently for her to finish. She finally turned those
beautiful eyes up to me. “What choices do I have?”

A loaded question. I had to answer with care.
“If you truly want to go back to the caves, I’ll take you there, but you’ll be
in even more danger than you were before. You’re still sick and weak, whether
you want to admit it or not. Why would you turn your back on food, shelter, and
safety?” 

“Damn you.” A trembling sigh escaped her. “All
right then. I accept your offer. It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good
boar when we are both so hungry. Will you take me back to the fire?”

“Of course I will.” I extended my hand. She
took it and rose; we spent several long moments staring at one another.

Could I help her work through her memories? I
had no idea, but I knew there was still strength inside her even if she did
not.

T
he men arrived at our camp not long after
Magnus left to hunt. I didn’t need to understand their language to understand
their intent. The gleam in their eyes, the way they licked their lips, and the
fact that they’d moved to surround me spoke volumes.

I was entertainment for the evening.

A panicked wildness clawed at my ribs, so
strong my ears rang and the night sky whirled around me. Thankfully, I’d
remembered how to close myself off. When at the mercy of another, it was crucial
not to think or feel. A useful skill, and one that couldn’t be taken away, like
a sword.

Or a hand.

The men pushed me around between them for a few
tense moments, then forced me to sit by the fire. It had been agony, knowing
what they meant to do. Garai had given me away to two men several times. Never
three.

I’m not sure they knew I traveled with a
companion. There was only one horse, and they’d quickly taken possession of it.

 Part of me expected Magnus to give in to them.
To share me. I’d been amusement for Garai’s closest friends. Why should Magnus
be any different?

But he
was
different. He’d pulled his
sword in my defense. Even more surprising was the fact that a bit of my
warrior’s instinct remained. I’d ducked and made my escape as soon as I felt
the tribesmen loosen their grip on my arms.

Magnus had slaughtered them all for threatening
me.

 No one defended me during my captivity. No one
ever came forward and said to Garai, “I will not allow you to hurt her again.”

Magnus still loved me. Such a pity I couldn’t
return that love. I was hollow inside. There was just a weak sense of
self-preservation, and not even much of that anymore. The thought made me cry
so hard I could barely breathe.

Staying with him wouldn’t be the worst thing I
could do, though it felt as though I were whoring myself for food, clothing,
and a roof over my head.

What choice did I have if I expected to live
free? My hand was a mess; I couldn’t fight anymore. A crippled woman living
alone was an easy and tempting target.

 Then Magnus said, “My compassion is given
without condition.”

That was the man I remembered. I’d be safe with
him. He wouldn’t expect anything in return. I could live out my life in peace.

The truth was excruciatingly painful. I was a
pale imitation of my former self, and I wanted Magnus to know just how bad it
truly was. I didn’t ever want him to wish he’d walked away from me at the
caves.

Though not spoken as such, I gave him my terms:
“Do not look at me and think of the future. I make no promises.”

 He agreed to my terms without hesitation.

What else could I do but agree to his?

I
knew we were nearing Magnus’s home by the
smell of the salt air. I had only been near the sea two or three times, but I
remembered the fresh breeze and the incomparable feeling of freedom. I
remembered how endless and vast it seemed as the water rubbed against the
horizon and swallowed the sun. I thought for sure it spilled off the edge of
the world, but Magnus said you could ride the waves and never fall.

The wind carried the distant call of sea birds
to my ears. Their song was unfamiliar, but comforting. Could I make a new life
in Adamar?

A warrior’s existence seldom brought them to
such a place. Magnus told me that others may kill for land or treasure, but the
people who relied on the sea for sustenance rarely fought with one another. Those
who rode atop the blue-green waters knew better than to try and tame it.
Capable of both benevolence and death, the sea gave its abundance only to those
who showed respect. Since many hands harvested the bounty, each human life was
precious to those who lived at water’s edge.

If only everyone understood such basic truths.

Magnus’s villa soon came into view. He called
it Seacrest. I called it breathtaking. The outside walls were a combination of
large, dark wooden beams and tan stucco. The numerous windows actually had
glass in them; even from this distance, the panes glistened like jewels. His
house was three stories high, perched precariously on a basalt cliff
overlooking the Jahr Sea.

“Aren’t you afraid a storm will sweep your home
into the water?” I asked.

“No. Storms generally come from that
direction.” He pointed off to his right. “We’ve weathered our share of them
though. I guess you never know.”

“No. I guess you don’t.” I didn’t understand how
he could be so nonchalant about it.

“Do you like it?” He half-turned in the saddle
to ask.

“What I can see of it is beautiful.”

He guided the horse over and down a rolling
slope. A massive formal garden hid most of the front of the house. A line of
columnar pines marked the property’s borders; a tan, brick-lined walkway began
just outside a double gate forged of twisted black iron.

He stopped his horse. “Does it look like home
to you?”

“Yes.” I took a deep breath and allowed
cautious joy to ring in my words. “Yes, it does look like home.”

A
young groom met us in
front of the house to take the horse back to the stable. After tossing the
reins to the boy, Magnus took my arm and escorted me down the walkway. He
stopped for a moment to grin, then he pushed the front door open wide. “Welcome
home, Kymber.”

I stepped into a small, dark alcove. It was
cool, though the day was quite hot. Another wooden door, a twin to the first,
lay before us. Magnus reached around me to open it.

A tall man with wavy auburn hair stood stiffly
just beyond the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him. He was dressed in
red satin pants and an elaborately embroidered tunic of the same color. His
wide smile was for Magnus only, as it quickly disappeared when he laid eyes on
me.

“This is Tomas, my manservant.” Magnus gestured
at the man. “He has care of the house and grounds when I’m not in residence. If
you need anything, just ask him.”

“Hello, Tomas.” I extended my hand. The man
cast a wary glance at Magnus.

“Tomas, this is Kymber Oryx. She’ll be staying
with us permanently,” Magnus said. “I want you to put her in the east room so
she can see Seacrest’s glorious sunrises. I trust it’s in a habitable
condition?”

“Permanently?” The man coughed once and reached
for my hand.

“Permanently. As in forever. She’s going to
live here with me,” Magnus said. “I’ll explain everything to you and the staff
later. I had no idea I was going to run across her in my travels, but I’m not
letting her go now that I’ve found her.”

Tomas flushed red. An uneasy coldness suddenly
struck me. The man didn’t want me there.

“I don’t wish to cause trouble,” I said,
glancing between Tomas and Magnus. An odd tension hummed between them. “If that
room is not ready, I could stay in another.”

“Nonsense. The east room, Tomas. She has a few
clothes in this saddlebag.” Magnus dropped the leather bag from his shoulder to
the floor. “She’ll be decorating the room to her liking as well.”

“What?” I looked at Magnus. “Decorating?”

“I want you to love it here. You have an
unlimited amount to spend.” He took my hand and kissed it.

I nearly laughed aloud – after all, I’d been
living in a cave on the outskirts of civilization – but Tomas coughed again and
glared at me. Magnus didn’t seem to notice. The strain in the room was as thick
as the fog that hung over Shalvet Moor.

“I’m sure the room will be fine as it is, but
we can talk about that later. Why don’t you show me around? Tomas, I can take
my own things upstairs. No need to fuss over me.” I bent to pick up the leather
satchel at Magnus’s feet.

“I’ll take them, mistress. It’s my job.” Tomas
bowed, snatched the saddlebag off the floor, and marched toward the stairs
tucked into the corner of the room.

“You’ve upset him by bringing home a stray,” I
said as I watched him go. “One more person for him to look after.”

“And he’ll do it.” Magnus took my arm and led
me out of the alcove. “I pay him well enough. What do you think of the house so
far? This is the sitting room.”

The room was large and impressive, with couches
and divans set here and there to good effect. A massive stone fireplace
commanded the far corner. Made of small boulders piled from floor to ceiling,
it looked like a solid waterfall.

The tall, bare windows, an airy, high ceiling,
and the room’s earthy colors – ochre, brown, and gold with intermittent
splashes of olive green – gave me the impression I was still outside.

Cool tile floors, rounded archways. Dark wooden
beams crisscrossed the ceiling. Several brown carpets with fluffy gold tassels
were tossed upon the floor. Oil paintings of various sizes in gilt and mahogany
frames adorned the walls.

Magnus had obviously found something to do
after I was taken. Something that paid very well. I wanted to know what that
something was, but I was afraid to ask. All I could think was that he’d made a
life without me. I kept forgetting he thought I was dead.

“Beautiful.” I worked to quash the feelings of
betrayal and abandonment, but they lingered. He’d been living in luxury. There
were nights I’d slept naked and locked in a cage, lying in my own filth.

He held my hands, his brow creased. “Kymber,
what’s wrong?”

Gods, this hurt. I swallowed the lump in my
throat. “I’m not used to this . . . this luxury.”

“Well, get used to it.” Magnus leaned forward –
I thought he was going to kiss me – then rocked back on his heels. “Do you hear
me?”

“I hear you.”

The kitchen was equally spacious. I could
picture a dozen women gathered around the butcher block island in the center of
the room, kneading bread dough for supper. Cooking pots of every imaginable
size hung from twisted wrought iron hooks overhead. Bundles of basil, dill, and
peppermint dried on a table near the fireplace.

The fireplace! A cavernous marvel of
engineering, it could only have been the brainchild of Magnus Tyrix. It was a
small room, to put it plainly, built into one wall. It looked capable of
accommodating three or four fires as the cook walked between them to tend the
food. Pot cranes were bolted into the stones and pushed off to one side,
awaiting the black iron kettles they would soon hold.

I was astonished to see a narrow clay aqueduct
come through the wall and end in a rectangular glazed clay sink. 

“Running water?” I brushed my fingertips over
the open conduit. “Another of your inventions?”

“Of course.” Magnus smiled with pride. “It has
its flaws, but I’m working them out.”

A thin woman hurried through the back door and
grabbed the apron hanging there on a nail. She slipped it over her head and
tied it behind her, oblivious to us standing there.

“Mrs. Toolwin,” Magnus said softly. 

The woman gave a breathy gasp and jumped. “You
gave me a fright, Mr. Tyrix. I didn’t see you there.”

Her questioning gaze landed on me. The cook was
middling age with a careworn face and gray hair, but when she smiled, it was as
though an endless rainy day had finally seen the sun. “And who’s this? Did you
bring a guest home for supper tonight?”

“I’ve brought her home permanently. She’ll be
staying here with me. This is Kymber Oryx. Someone I knew from long ago.”

Mrs. Toolwin gripped my hands, her own small
and warm and welcoming. “Delighted, child. I’ll cook up something extra special
for you tonight.”

“Kymber, this is Hermosa Toolwin, the best cook
in Adamar.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I said, still holding
her delicate fingers in mine.

The cook blushed. “Ah, Mr Tyrix, you’re just
saying that because it’s true. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get right to
cooking. Danna and Cinthi should be here any moment.”

I turned to him as we walked away. “Why do you
employ so many women to cook when it’s just you?”

“I have them take most of what they make into
the slums of Adamar. To feed the hungry.” He steered me down a short hallway.

I stopped abruptly and caught him by the wrist.
“Magnus, that’s very generous of you.”

“Well, I have more than I need. I know what
it’s like to be hungry.”

I nodded. So did I.

He led me into a smaller room. My heart skipped
a beat. Natural oak cases filled with every imaginable type of weapon lined the
walls. Swords, pikes, maces. I saw several katanas.

We were required to know and identify every
sword ever made in Calari our second year of academy. Their origins, alloys,
strengths and weaknesses. A warrior had to know what type of weapon he or she
was facing in order to respond appropriately.

Unfortunately, I’d forgotten the names of most
of them. I’d had eyes for one sword, and one sword only: Silverlight. Pain
bloomed in my breast at the thought of my lost weapon.

“This room is . . . I have no words for this
room.” I stopped before a blade that reminded me of Silverlight. My hand itched
to wrap around the grip, but a sharp pain moved from my wrist into the center
of my palm, reminding me that I would never hold a sword again.

I will never hold a sword again.
It hadn’t bothered me
up to that point, because I was too busy surviving. Now it was a burning ache. If
I couldn’t hold a sword, couldn’t fight, would I still be Kymber Oryx?

Magnus stepped up behind me, as though he’d
heard my thoughts. “I’d like to have a look at that hand. I think my physician
friend can help you.”

I turned away. “No. Let it go. I can’t.”

“Has anyone ever examined it?”

“In Pentorus?” I laughed. “Someone would’ve had
to care first.”

In fact, someone
had
cared. Tavia
Thrallkeld, the healer’s assistant, had taken pity on me at first, until Garai
found out about our . . . relationship . . . and quickly put an end to it.

“Then you don’t know if treatment would help
you.”

“What type of treatment?”

“Warm water. Massage. Exercise. The muscles and
tendons of your fingers are frozen, but perhaps they can be loosened.”

I thought about it for a moment. “Suppose I let
your physician friend have a look at me. What if he can’t help me?”

“Then we’ll know, at least.” Magnus put one arm
around my shoulders. “Will you let me examine your hand later on, after supper?
I need to know the extent of the injury. I won’t do anything without your
consent though. This will be on your terms.”

I took a slow breath. What did I have to lose?
The worst the physician could say was that my hand would remain forever stiff
and useless. If there was a chance I could wield a sword again, shouldn’t I
take it?