The Dark Throne (39 page)

“Is there any skill that involves killing things that you haven’t mastered?” I asked, only partially teasing. Luca only grinned in reply. I rolled my shoulders and stretched a little, feeling the balance and weight of the bow in my hand as I envisioned my next arrow flying smoothly into the target. I adjusted my stance to account for the slightly heavier feel of the unfamiliar weapon, drew back my next arrow, exhaled and let it fly. Despite my visualization, it veered wide, striking the target low and to the right.

“Vell was right when she said you were better with a sword,” Luca commented.

“If I need to shoot something with a bow I’ll shoot it,” I replied firmly. “I’m definitely not as good as you or Vell, but I’m guessing you were given a bow and arrow before you could even walk.”

Luca smiled and made a noncommittal sound. “We are warriors.”

“How about I just let you do the shooting for both of us,” I replied, surveying his now decidedly crooked target, knocked askew from the force of his arrows—which still clustered neatly around the bulls-eye. Luca didn’t reply, turning his focus to the target again as he nocked an arrow.

“What do you think we’ll encounter, on these scouting missions?” I asked as I counted the arrows left in my quiver with my fingertips.

“Dark creatures,” said the
ulfdrengr
, his hair shining golden even in the dimming light of dusk. “Malravenar will know, as Arcana said. There’s no element of surprise left to us in this war. There’s only good planning and then…” He shot two arrows at once into the target as I watched enviously. “Pristine execution of that plan. I don’t believe we outnumber the Dark creatures that Malravenar has created, or those he has tempted into his thrall with promises of power once the shadows reign.”

I thought of the sirens in the Darinwel. “Do you think there’s many creatures who were once free and now bend the knee to Malravenar?”

Luca shrugged. “I do not pretend to know.” He pressed his lips together. “But what I do know is that I will kill every creature that stands in my way until I no longer have breath in my body.”

We shot a few more arrows in thoughtful silence. Then I said, “You know, I’ve been thinking. I don’t know whether Malravenar wants to close the Gate. That’s the opinion of most in the Unseelie Court, and I think in the
vyldgard
. I understand that severing the ties between Faeortalam and the mortal world would be somewhat satisfying, assuming that Malravenar holds dominion over this world.” I nocked another arrow, drew it back, and sent it wide of the bulls-eye. “Damn. But what I mean is that….from what I’ve heard, I’d think Malravenar would want to
open
the gate, send his creatures through, try to gain a foothold in the mortal world.”

Luca tilted his head to the side as he considered my statement. “I see your point.” His quiver empty, he lowered his bow and turned to face me. “But I would ask you to consider this: does it really matter? Does it matter whether Malravenar wants to open the Gate or close it forever? Either he seeks dominion over our world, or he seeks dominion over our world
and
the mortal world.” He spat to the side. “It makes no difference to me.”

“I see your point.” I had two arrows left. I tossed one to Luca and nocked the other. Watching him in my peripheral vision, I waited until the moment he released his arrow and then I shifted my aim, shooting at his target. His arrow planted solidly in the ring just outside the bulls-eye, and my arrow hit the outer edge of the bulls-eye. I raised my bow in triumph, grinning impishly at him until he laughed.

The only other archer left on the line had taken a target at the opposite end of the line. We caught his eye and he nodded at our raised bows, signaling that he understood we were going forward of the line to retrieve our arrows from the targets. Though Luca’s arrows were buried almost half their length in the target, he slid them out easily, whereas I had to tug on my arrows a bit. I inspected each arrow before depositing it in my quiver, looking for any damage to the arrowhead or the fletching, feeling the shaft with my fingertips for any cracks. My batch of twenty arrows all survived the target practice, but Luca found two broken arrow-shafts in his target.

“I think that means you need to shoot from farther back,” I said with a laugh in the back of my voice. “Or maybe just, you know, stop being so freakishly strong.”

Luca pointed at me with one of the broken arrows. “My freakish strength serves me well, so I think I’ll just shoot from the farthest line tomorrow.”

I smiled and slung my bow over my shoulder as we began walking back toward camp. In the flickering light of the torches by the practice lines, I glimpsed a
vyldgard
warrior, half hidden in the shadows, his back to camp as he watched the shadows intently for any sign of an attack.

The camp was not as raucous as the night before, but the strains of a wild tune floated through the air, twining about the leaping flames of the main fire. The warrior playing the tune had a sort of wooden pipe, simple but true in tone; she nodded to use as we passed, grinning around the mouthpiece of her instrument. Another warrior had produced a drum, and voices made up the rest of the accompaniment. The piper motioned to an empty space in the circle, clearly inviting us to join. I smiled and shook my head, but then Luca glanced down at me.

“Come now, give the warriors a glimpse of the fabled Bearer,” he said with a grin, his voice pitched for my ears alone.

I scowled half-heartedly at him but then relented. “Only if you stay with me,” I told him, raising my eyebrows.

“Of course! I wouldn’t abandon you to merriment alone,” he replied.

So we set down our bows and quivers and joined the Sidhe sitting in a circle near the fire. The song was a call-and-response in the Sidhe tongue. A bright-haired Seelie that I recognized as one of the Firstscore sang the male part, and the female singer, to my surprise, was the shorthaired woman working the forge with Chael. The woman looked at me and then raised an eyebrow at her singing partner, who nodded, and they switched seamlessly into Common Tongue. They alternated singing each verse, and I listened, fascinated and impressed by both the clarity of their voices and their ease at translating the song. The song spoke of two lovers heading to battle; at first both man and woman reassured the other that they would survive in triumph, but as the song went on, each of the pair told the other that if only one of them could survive, they hoped it would be the other. And by the end, the woman, singing sadly but fiercely, spoke of her fallen love, asking him to wait for her in the halls of the gods as she washed his body and touched his face for the last time. Tears prickled my eyes and I swallowed against the tightness in my throat as the gamine Seelie sang the last verses, which was the warrior’s last love song to her beloved as she stood by the pyre and watched the smoke rise into the sky. The drums had stopped, and the piper let her melodic accompaniment fade into silence. The singer continued alone until she sang the last lingering note, her voice subsiding until it was just the crackling of the fire and the sighs of those listening.

I surreptitiously swiped at my eyes and then murmured to Luca, “Damn, I thought this was going to be a
fun
sing-along.”

In the silence, my voice sounded much louder than I’d intended, and my face heated as my words carried over the circle. But to my relief, the gathered warriors seemed to think my comment was amusing. A few even chuckled out loud. The shorthaired singer raised an eyebrow at me, letting me think for a moment that she was offended; but then she grinned and called out, “Let’s give the Bearer what she asked for, eh?”

The warriors responded with a rousing cheer of approval as the piper launched into a decidedly upbeat song, and the drummer grinned as he kept pace, his hands moving over the taut drumskin at staggering speeds.

“This song is in Sidhe, Lady Tess, but you can learn one line!” the singer called teasingly to me, eliciting another round of yells and laughter from the rest of the warriors. I grinned and they began the song, which had us all clapping our hands to keep the beat. After a few rounds, I learned the line we called back and sang it with gusto, much to the delight of the others in the singing-circle. Even Luca sang, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. These warriors seemed so young, I thought as we continued through the rollicking melody. They were eager to prove themselves, but how many of them would lay cold on a pyre in the coming days, just like at the end of the previous song? How many friends would they mourn? How many lovers would
they
lose?

While my thoughts ran rampant, I tried to keep a happy face as we sang. At the end of the song, I felt a strange sense of relief as I smiled and stood, thanking the singer.

“Thea, my lady,” she introduced herself with a grin. “Apprentice of both swords and songs.”

My smile widened. “Seems like you have an accurate assessment of your skills and passions.”

Thea dipped her head. “Hope to see you again at the circle, my lady.”

I found myself too tired to correct her. Keeping the mask of light-hearted enjoyment was incredibly taxing. So instead I dredged up another smile and picked up my bow and quiver, wanting nothing more than the privacy of my little sleeping quarters in the tent. There, no one would see my exhaustion and sadness. But I found I wasn’t walking alone as I headed for the great tent.

“The sadness will come and go,” said Luca. “Sometimes it is anger, sometimes it is sadness. Sometimes it is just feeling nothing at all.”

I swallowed. “Feeling empty.”

He nodded, his handsome face in shadow. We passed by the Queen’s tent; light flickered from within, illuminating silhouettes gathered near the table. I sighed as we continued walking.

“It just seems so sudden. I was really
enjoying
the first song, even when it turned sad, but then I started looking at the other warriors in the circle, and thinking about which of them would end up on a pyre soon. I couldn’t stop thinking about that. They all look so….
young
,” I said, knowing full well that all of the warriors in the camp were at least a hundred years older than me.

“Age in years doesn’t always equal experience,” said Luca as though he could read my thoughts. “But many of these warriors have seen their share of battle. They know what peril lies ahead.” We reached the great tent, its gray fabric shimmering slightly even in the darkness.

“I understand,” I replied. I stared into the darkness, letting my mind travel through its morose thoughts again.

“Tess.” Luca’s voice was as gentle as the hand he laid on my shoulder. “You cannot let these thoughts consume you. The warrior’s sadness, it is something I have seen among the
ulfdrengr
.”

“So what do I do?” I looked up at him earnestly, hoping that he’d tell me of an herb to take or a rune to sketch on my skin, even as I knew that wasn’t the solution.

“Keep busy,” he said, eyes glimmering. “Train hard, push your body to exhaustion. It will help you sleep. Don’t turn to liquor, though getting your hands on enough might be difficult here and I don’t see you as the type to do that.” He looked seriously down at me. “I think the best medicine, Tess, is to have a person who will listen when you feel this way. It isn’t weakness to speak of it with another warrior.”

“Are you volunteering for the job?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

“Of course. I am your friend, and I am a fellow warrior.” He smiled faintly. “And I’ve seen much of what you have battled, and more; so I think I will be able to understand your feelings.”

Gratefulness at Luca’s unwavering loyalty and unflinching friendship rose up within me like a tide, washing away the deep sadness lingering in my chest. On impulse, I leaned forward and hugged the big
ulfdrengr
. After a heartbeat of hesitation, his muscular arms closed about my shoulders. I laid my head against his chest and let the warmth of his body comfort me. He held me closely but not too tightly, letting me decide when to pull away.

“Thanks,” I said as I stepped back. “It’s been a long day.”

He smiled wordlessly.

“Swords tomorrow morning?” I asked brightly.

He nodded, and I smiled. I slipped through the entrance of the tent and then paused. Only then did Luca let out the breath he’d been holding. I turned and watched him surreptitiously through the sliver of visibility between the tent and the entrance curtain. Kianryk appeared as Luca ran one hand through his hair and scrubbed his face with the other; the great golden wolf whined low in his throat.

“You can say that again,” Luca said under his breath to the wolf. “Gods above, that woman will be the death of me.”

Kianryk huffed a clearly annoyed breath, and Luca chuckled, one large hand rubbing the wolf behind his ears.

“You just wait til you find a lady wolf that turns
you
inside out,” he said, and I watched until the
ulfdrengr
and wolf disappeared into the shadows, melting away like beautiful ghosts into the darkness.

Chapter 21

T
rue to Luca’s word, I slept soundly after the day’s physical training. I found the compartment with the emerald curtain and slipped inside, finding Calliea already asleep. She didn’t stir as I stealthily stowed my weapons and laid the Sword by my bed of furs. I shed my shirt and breeches and wiped my face and body with a cloth dampened in that mysteriously steaming silver bowl; then I pulled on a new shirt and curled up on my furs, dimming the light overhead with a flick of my fingers. I dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep, exhaustion dark and velvety about my body. I woke when Calliea twisted the little globe of light into existence again. She paused guiltily in her preparations for her shift in the healing ward as I stirred.

“You can go back to sleep,” she said. “It’s only just after dawn. I’m sure the
vyldretning
will send for you if she needs you.”

“I’m sure she will,” I said, my voice crackling with sleep. I yawned and then found myself to be actually awake. I stretched experimentally and found a few sore spots, but nothing unexpected.