by Hanna Dare
They reached the stable. As soon as Tris opened doors, the horses started making a racket, neighing and tossing their heads.
“Shh,” Tris pleaded with the panicking horses, worried that Yonah wasn’t drunk enough to sleep through this. “What’s got into them?”
“Leave it,” Ormur whispered urgently. “We’ll go on foot.”
“But then Marius can ride us down as soon as he realizes we’re gone.”
Ormur stalked into the stable and chased the horses out, waving his arms. They fled from him, with Tris barely jumping out of the way in time.
“There,” Ormur said, as the horses disappeared among the trees, their tails streaming behind them. “Now no one can ride. Let’s go already.”
Tris hoisted his bag and made sure the sword was secure at his waist. His plan had been threadbare to begin with, but now it was fraying. They would need to walk all night to reach Rivermouth, but he had to hope that once there they could quickly book passage on a ship and escape any pursuit. As to what would happen then, or where they would go, was something he hadn’t worked out yet. The important thing was making sure Ormur was safe.
They set out on the narrow road. It was risky, keeping to the road, but Tris could easily see them getting lost in the unfamiliar woods in the dark. Pine needles and twigs crunched loudly beneath their feet, adding to Tris’s anxiety with every step.
“Stop looking back every few seconds,” Ormur said, his own eyes fixed on his feet and the path in front of him. “You’re going to trip.”
Ormur was being very careful with his steps. Tris expected the borrowed slippers fit badly. In fact, Ormur wasn’t moving with anything resembling haste.
“We need to go faster,” Tris urged.
“I know that,” Ormur said through gritted teeth.
But he didn’t quicken his pace, if anything he was going slightly slower. Tris wondered if the weeks spent as a prisoner had weakened him.
“Can I take your arm?” Tris asked. “Would that help?”
“No, it would not.”
They still hadn’t touched, not even a casual brush of hands. Tris didn’t want to admit that some part of him had hoped that when he opened the cell door Ormur would rush into his arms. It was foolishness, of course. Ormur didn’t owe him anything. Just the opposite.
“Thanks for that, back there in the house.”
Ormur seemed distracted. “What?”
“Not shutting the cell door in my face and leaving me behind.”
He did look at Tris then, a sidelong glance over a sharp cheekbone. “I considered it.”
“I know you did.”
Ormur’s lips parted to speak, but then he shook his head. “Well, you might still be useful.”
Tris smiled a little. If that was as close to a thank you as Ormur could give him, he’d take it. He shortened his stride to match Ormur’s pace and told himself that the tension in his shoulders was easing with every step away from the house. He could almost feel it, even if the steps weren’t as quick as he’d like.
“Slow and steady,” he murmured to himself.
They hadn’t been walking for an hour before Ormur came to a stop.
Tris turned to look back at him. Even in the dim light he could see that Ormur was trembling where he stood.
“What is it?” Tris was already reaching for the waterskin he carried. “Do you need a drink?”
“I cannot go any farther.”
“I know you’re tired, but we really need to get some more distance between us and the house before we have a rest.”
Ormur stared down at his feet. “It’s not that. I’m not tired.”
“Then what? We need to move, Ormur,”
Ormur looked up. He had a look of great concentration on his face. “Tris, I have to tell you—” Then his head jerked to the side. “I hear something.”
Tris listened, but there were only the night sounds of the forest. “What is it?
“Hoofbeats.”
Tris swore under his breath. “Off the road. Get behind a tree.”
He could hear it now too. Coming from the direction of the house and coming fast. Tris scrambled behind a tree trunk. Next to him, Ormur had his back against another tree. Tris crouched lower. With some luck the rider would keep going past them.
The hoofbeats slowed as they drew near. Tris bent close to the ground and peered out from between some bushes.
Marius rode up on his gray mare, his eyes on the moonlit road, searching for tracks Tris couldn’t see but were apparent enough for the hunter to draw up on his reins.
“Tris,” he called as he dismounted. “Come out now. Don’t make me flush you out of the bushes like a rabbit.”
Tris glanced over, Ormur faintly shook his head, but there really wasn’t a decision to make.
“Run,” Tris mouthed. “I’ll buy you some time.”
He stood up and stepped out from behind the tree.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Tris asked conversationally as he moved back onto the road. “Nice night for a walk. Or a ride.”
Marius matched his pleasant tone, but Tris could see his eyes moving around, searching the woods behind Tris. He also took in the sword at Tris’s hip with a quirk of his eyebrow. “I’m just here for the brat.”
“I don’t know—”
“Spare me. Helda’s yelling to wake the house about missing keys, the cell door’s wide open and the horses gone. Let’s not play this.”
“Your horse came back,” Tris pointed out.
“My horse knows her business. She’s trained not to let anyone else ride her and to come back to me.” Marius took a step toward Tris and the trees he stood blocking. “He better come out now or this is going to get messy.”
Tris figured he needed to provide enough of a distraction for Ormur to get away, so he pulled out his sword.
Marius eyed Tris’s drawn sword with amusement. “Really? You think you can fight me with my third-best sword after a handful of lessons?”
Tris gripped the short sword with both hands, hoping that he wouldn’t drop it. His palms already felt sweaty. “Maybe I’m better than you think.”
Marius made a face. “No, you’re really not.”
“I could’ve been holding back during those lessons, you know.”
“You weren’t.”
“Marius, listen—” Tris yanked at the ties of his shirt to reveal the amulet on his chest. “The Earl was going to give this to the king. It’s important to him. I’ll give it to you and you go back to the mansion now. Just forget you saw me here.”
Marius looked mildly impressed. “You sneaky little thief. How about this instead? I take that necklace and the brat, and you can fuck off. It’s the best offer you’re going to get.”
“Ormur’s gone. Long gone. I was just waiting here to slow you down.”
“We’ve played cards before, kid. I know what your face looks like when you’re bluffing.” He shook his head. He looked almost regretful. “Ah well, I gave you a chance.”
He drew his own sword and Tris tried not to gulp at how long and sharp it looked.
“Marius,” Tris began, trying to stall as the other man advanced, “I know you’re not a bad person.”
“See? That’s your first mistake.”
He lunged and Tris barely managed to get his sword up in time to block the sword stroke. The shock of the blow shook his whole body and he nearly lost his grip on his sword.
Tris jumped back out of Marius’s reach just in time to miss the next swing. Marius didn’t chase him, but advanced steadily — the tip of his sword flashing in the moonlight.
Tris kept his own sword up and his eyes on Marius. “Holding Ormur like that was wrong, you must know that. He’s a person, not a dragon.”
Marius shook his head. “Oh, Tris. You still don’t get it. I don’t care.”
“Just… let us go. Please.”
Marius set the blade of his sword against his leather-clad shoulder and stroked his mustache. “S
ince you asked so nicely.”
Tris didn’t back away. He didn’t rush Marius either. Instead, he kicked hard at the ground, sending pebbles toward the other man’s face, and darted to the side. He swung his sword low, thinking to catch Marius in the legs with the flat of the blade and knock him off his feet, but he stopped abruptly.
Tris looked down. Marius’s sword was buried in his stomach.
There was no pain, just confusion. Marius had moved so fast.
Marius’s hand was on his shoulder, a helpful grasp to hold him up. Tris met his eyes — they were almost fond as they looked back at him. Maybe — maybe there had been some kind of mistake. Marius smiled.
He pulled the sword back in a swift motion and Tris dropped to the ground. Now there was pain, so much, a mountain of it pressing down on his belly. There was no getting out from under that weight.
Marius stood above him, the blood on his sword looking black in the moonlight. “Do you get it now, kid? I kill dragons. I kill people. It’s who I am. And you’re just a farm boy who wandered into the real world.”
He raised the sword and all Tris could do was stare up, his mouth opening and closing in a soundless gasp.
There was a sudden loud crack and Marius staggered and fell to the side. Ormur stood behind him, holding a thick branch.
Ormur bent over Tris. It was hard to focus but he could see Ormur’s eyes. Brown. Hints of gold.
“Tris?”
There were so many things Tris wanted to say, but darkness swept over him and there was nothing.
Something was being ripped apart.
The sound pushed into Tris’s awareness before anything else. Tris opened his eyes to see Ormur, bare-chested in the moonlight, tearing a shirt into strips.
“Aren’t you cold?” Tris asked.
Because Tris was cold, a coldness beyond shivering, like falling into a glacier-fed lake and losing the sense of his body.
Ormur didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed some of the torn shirt against Tris’s stomach. Hard.
“Ow,” Tris protested feebly, trying to push the hand away. But it stayed in place, as unyielding as stone.
“Hush,” Ormur said, but his voice was soft. “If you want to do something useful, you might want to stop bleeding.”
Tris found he couldn’t lift his head to look down at his body, but he assumed it was bad. The mountain of pain was more of a dim shadow now — Tris was grateful for that, but he realized it was because he was dying. He wasn’t sure what to do with that sudden certainty. He felt bad for his parents and Lily. Would they ever know what had happened to him? It was a sad way to die, on a lonely road far from home, but he found he didn’t mind so much. At least he had gone out doing something right.
“Ormur,” he said. It was hard to get the words out, but it was important to try. “Worth it.”
“I told you to hush.” Ormur put his other hand to Tris’s chest. It was wet and Tris wondered vaguely if that was from his blood. Ormur’s hand tangled a bit with the amulet before resting above Tris’s heart. “Please, Tris. I— I would prefer it very much if you did not die tonight. Please.”
Ormur’s hand was warm and it seemed Tris could feel warmth spreading out from where it touched his chest and throughout his body.
“That’s nice,” he murmured.
“What is?”
“You. You’ve never been so nice to me before.”
“You’ve never bled so much before.” The nice warm hand moved from his chest to his shoulder and shook him a bit. “Tris. Don’t fall asleep.”
His eyelids were impossibly heavy, but he struggled to open them for Ormur’s sake since he seemed so insistent. “I always wondered what you smelled like. ’S nice. Like a tree.”
“There are pine needles all over the ground. You’re covered in them.”
“So I smell like a tree,” Tris said. He felt like he’d had too much wine.
“It’s hard to smell anything but blood.” Ormur sounded snappish but then he stopped, pressing his lips together. Tris watched his sharp face soften. “You usually smell of wool and sun-warmed meadows and honesty. But yes, right now you also smell like a pine tree.”
“Do you like that?”
“I like it very much. In fact—”
There was a low groan. It took a moment, but Tris realized it wasn’t coming from him. He turned his head to see Marius lying crumpled on the ground nearby.
Ormur’s face twisted with anger. “I was hoping I’d killed him.”
Though Ormur hadn’t moved, Tris clutched at him. “Don’t.”
“He was going to kill you. He may have yet killed you.”
“Still.” Tris managed to lift his head and Ormur met his eyes reluctantly. “It’s different when he’s just lying there.”
Ormur shook his head, but he stayed where he was, pressing against Tris’s chest and stomach. The weight of Ormur’s hands kept Tris from drifting away, reminding him that there were solid, true things to hold onto. Tris felt like they could stay like that forever, just the two of them, joined together. It seemed that his heart was beating stronger beneath Ormur’s hand. Or maybe it was that he could feel Ormur’s heart beating and was mistaking it for his own.
Ormur glanced down. “The bleeding’s stopped. That’s something at least.”
Then Ormur’s hands were removed and Tris wanted to protest. He bandaged Tris’s stomach, turning his body with easy strength to pass the strips of the shirt around him. The bandages were tight enough that the pain made itself known again to Tris. This time the groan came from him.
“We need to get off the road,” Ormur said. “Somewhere— Well, nowhere is safe, but a place to build a fire and clean your wound properly.
Tris thought all of that sounded like it would hurt even more. “‘M fine. Really.” To prove his point, he pushed himself up. He got halfway to sitting before everything went dark again.
Things were upside down.
Tris opened his eyes to see trees growing downwards and the world bouncing around jarringly. He realized that he was being carried across Ormur’s shoulders.
“Would you stop wriggling?”
Tris was eased onto the ground near a fallen tree and he clutched at his bandaged stomach, grateful not to be moving anymore. Ormur knelt at his side and held the waterskin to his mouth. Tris drank thirstily and almost immediately felt more clear-headed.
Ormur turned away to open Tris’s bag that he’d managed to carry along with Tris. “Do you have anything to start a fire? I find myself at a loss.”
“There should be flint and steel in there.”
Ormur had put Tris’s sweater back on and he somehow looked impossibly graceful in the oversized garment as he swiftly moved about, gathering fallen branches.
The pine trees were so tall around them that Tris could barely glimpse the night sky. He wondered if he was allowed to sleep now.
Steel struck flint and Ormur cursed.
Tris turned his head to watch Ormur crouch over his pile of broken sticks. Sparks flew but failed to catch.
“You need tinder, dry moss or grass,” Tris said. “Dried leaves maybe?”
Ormur looked a bit put out, but he got up again and found a handful of dried pine needles. “Will this do?” Tris tried to shrug, but the movement hurt his stomach. Ormur scowled. “Stop moving. And helping.”
Tris didn’t point out that Ormur had asked. He took up the metal striker and the flint again. There was a flare of warm light.
“Blow on it,” Tris said, risking another glare.
Ormur bent lower over the tiny flame, breathing over it until it caught and began to burn. At Tris’s urging, he fed it twigs until there was a small but cheerful blaze. Ormur finally raised his head from his crouch and looked almost wonderingly at the flint and steel in his hands.
“I didn’t think that would actually work. It’s like magic.” He reached for the bag again. “Now what about a needle and thread?”
Tris started to lift his arm to
point but stopped as Ormur gave him a warning look. “There’s a little pouch in there. A blue one with a flap.”
Ormur drew out the mending kit. Tris didn’t like the way Ormur took the needle and held it over the fire. At first, Tris was worried that Ormur would burn himself, then he began to worry what Ormur was going to do with the needle.
“I need to stitch up that wound,” Ormur said firmly.
“Have you, uh, ever done that before?”
“I have seen other people do it.” He looked at Tris with great seriousness. “I will not hurt you unnecessarily, Tris, I promise.”
Tris nodded and set his jaw. The dull ache in his stomach was about to get much sharper. Ormur unwrapped the bloody bandages. That hurt, but not as much as he’d feared.
Ormur seemed to be hesitating and Tris opened eyes he’d squeezed shut in anticipation. “Go ahead, I can take it.”
Ormur was staring down. “Your wound.”
Tris raised his head expecting to see some ghastly mess on his belly. Instead, there was a gash in his stomach — the width of a blade — swollen and red, but with the edges firmly knitted together, like it was a day or two old.
“Huh,” Tris said for want of anything better. “I guess it wasn’t so bad after all.”
Ormur touched Tris’s stomach with careful fingers. “It was very bad.” His voice sounded strange. “It was as bad as anything I have ever seen. You should be dead, Tris.”
“Well,” Tris said uncertainly, “I guess I got lucky.”
Ormur suddenly gripped the sides of Tris’s face and stared down at him fiercely. “You should have stayed hidden. You almost threw your life away.”
Tris reached up and covered one of Ormur’s hands with his own. “I told you. It was worth it. All of it.”
Ormur’s lips parted. He looked so angry and wild that Tris almost felt afraid. But he was also so beautiful that he couldn’t stop staring.
“Your life has more value than… I do not know what, but it is beyond measure. So you need to be careful with it. Do you understand?”
Tris didn’t exactly follow, but he felt it best to agree with Ormur at the moment. “All right.”
Ormur released his grip. “I’m going to wash away the dried blood at least and see about fresh bandages so hopefully it won’t fester.”
