Battles of Salt and Sighs (Rise of the Death Fae Book 1)

by Val Saintcrowe

  “I seem to have accomplished that,” he muttered darkly.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice bitter. “You’ve used me rather thoroughly, haven’t you?”

  He found he couldn’t look at her.

  “Anyway, you don’t need me anymore. I’ll be in your way, and if the Night King is Duranth and Duranth is in my sister’s bed, it will take more than my being near her to rescue her. So, let me go to Albus, and I’ll… I’ll make him take me to the capital and leave you be.”

  “You’ll make him?”

  “I think I could,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “I don’t,” said Larent.

  “Why not?”

  “There’s a reason he’s coming through the snow, domina, and it’s not because of his fierce loyalty to the empire. He does hate the fae, but I’d wager he hates me the most. He’s never going to leave me be.”

  “Who is he to you?”

  Larent only shook his head. It seemed so complicated to explain. Perhaps it wasn’t. Maybe he could even sum it all up in one word, but that word… that word would never be used by either of them for the other.

  She sighed. “You could let me try, couldn’t you? I could even tell him that you’d left, that you’d already gone to the capital.”

  “Oh, you’d lie for me, domina?”

  “Well, it serves both of our purposes.”

  “It doesn’t serve my purpose to send Naxus Albus to the capital,” said Larent. “It doesn’t serve the fae’s purpose.”

  “You’re frightened he might conquer your rebellion.” Her eyes flashed.

  “Not frightened,” he snapped.

  She cast her gaze downward. “Forgive me, that was quite foolish of me.”

  “Antagonizing me is not the way to convince me.”

  “Well, how should I convince you?” she said. “Perhaps we could bargain. What do you want of me that you haven’t already had? My arse?”

  “Stop,” he said softly.

  “Oh, too cold for that, as you said,” she said sharply. “I shouldn’t worry about your taking me against my will in the frigid conditions?”

  It had not all been against her will.

  Or had it?

  He wasn’t so stupid as to think that what had happened in his bed the other morning was real, but it had felt… He hunched his shoulders. “You can’t convince me at all. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “You don’t really own me, you know,” she breathed furiously.

  “I know,” he said.

  “So—”

  “It’s also too cold to talk, domina,” he said and got up to go and sharpen his dagger again, pointedly ignoring her.

  She said his name several times, but he didn’t respond, so she gave up, huddling closer to the stove.

  Time passed.

  And then there was the sound of someone outside his tent, and Larent heard Maven’s voice calling out for him.

  Larent went for the flap of the tent and moved it aside.

  “It’s Akiel,” said Maven. “He’s coming to speak to you.”

  “Why?” said Larent.

  “I couldn’t say, centurion, but I think the other officers are not pleased at the idea of meeting Naxus on the battlefield without your centuria. I think he may be coming to try to make peace with you.”

  Larent chuckled. “Oh, of course the officers aren’t pleased. But Akiel would never back down.”

  Maven didn’t answer.

  “Thank you,” said Larent.

  “Of course,” said Maven. “Should I stay, centurion? Do you think you’ll have need of someone to back you up?”

  “You think he’s coming to fight me?”

  “I…” Maven shook his head. “I have no idea, centurion.”

  “No, I can handle Akiel,” said Larent in a low voice.

  Maven left.

  Onivia was on her feet behind him, in the tent, and he waited for her to call out to him. He knew she’d overheard. But she didn’t say anything, and he didn’t turn to look at her. He simply stood at the flaps of the tent, feeling the chill air from the outside come through the places where the flaps parted.

  Akiel appeared, wading through the snow. It was drifted deeply here and there, and it was up past his waist, even though Akiel was tall.

  Larent stepped out of the tent. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have a proposition for you,” said Akiel.

  “What is it?”

  “Invite me into your tent.”

  Larent hesitated. “Perhaps I should come inside the villa and we can discuss it there.”

  “No, you don’t come back in until we come to an agreement.”

  “But you do wish to come to an agreement?”

  “I do,” said Akiel. “I was angry before, hasty, and I know that I do value your prowess on the battlefield. So, let’s talk.”

  Larent let him in.

  Onivia hovered near the stove, but behind it, putting it between herself and the two men.

  Akiel looked her over with a leer. “Well, there she is.”

  “What’s this proposition?”

  “I just want her once,” said Akiel.

  “What?” said Larent, wedging himself in front of Akiel, blocking the princep’s view of the girl. “We agreed it really isn’t about her.”

  “But it’s best if it seems about her, best for both of us,” said Akiel. “And I do want her. So, you just let me fuck her once. You can be there. You can watch.”

  “Oh, ancestors save us.” Larent ran a hand through his hair.

  “It doesn’t even have to be her cunny.”

  “No.” Larent snarled it.

  Akiel rolled his eyes. “Her mouth, then. She just sucks me off, and you can even do her at the same time, both of us. We just share her, and then you come back, and all is forgiven, and we don’t speak of it anymore. I will swear off her afterwards.”

  “I don’t see what the point of—”

  “Because it means you admit that she’s a whore, and that she doesn’t matter,” said Akiel.

  “She doesn’t matter.”

  “That’s why you’re freezing your balls off out here.”

  “No, it’s not about her ancestors-blessed cunt.” He advanced on Akiel, forcing the other man to step back. “Or her mouth. Or her arse. It’s about you.”

  “So, then let me have her.” Akiel planted his feet on the ground, refusing to move.

  “No,” said Larent.

  “Listen, maybe I’ve overstepped.” Akiel shrugged. “Some of the officers enjoy themselves when they dine with me. But perhaps, for men like you, squeamish—”

  “I’m not squeamish.”

  “Whatever.” Akiel rolled his eyes again. “I can be sure to make it clear, it’s an optional activity, and that no one has to indulge. And as for you, you can keep this whore forever for all I care. You can fuck her sideways, marry her, get her with triplets. Or you can just go back to your celibate existence. I’ll shut my mouth about it, all right? I could not give one fuck about anything except your battle strategy, all right? That’s really all that matters.”

  “If that was all that mattered, you wouldn’t be demanding this of me. She is mine, and I don’t want to watch you fuck her.”

  “So, don’t watch.”

  “I don’t want you to fuck her at all.”

  “But you say she doesn’t matter.”

  Larent threw up both of his hands and turned. He stalked to the other side of the tent, too angry to think.

  “It’s all right that you’re soft on her, I suppose,” said Akiel in a wheedling voice. “I don’t hold it against you, not really. You have weak blood. You can’t help it.”

  Larent let out a barking laugh.

  “But they are the enemy, Larent. She is the enemy.”

  “I know what she is.” He turned to look at Akiel.

  “What if it’s someone else, then,” said Akiel. “Not me. You give her to someone else—”

  “No oth
er man in this entire cohort is forced to give up his girl for other men’s use.”

  “Yes, but you…. You prattled on about being better than them and not stooping to their level about how we must be good to their women and children, to prove we weren’t animals, and everyone heard.”

  Larent’s shoulders slumped.

  “You called the fae animals.”

  “I didn’t,” he said. “That’s not exactly what I—”

  “Most men have needs, Larent,” said Akiel. “We’re asking them to die for this cause, and they have been held captive on villae their entire lives—”

  “We’ve all been held captive—”

  “This is their only taste of freedom, and you want them to deny themselves use of human cunny because you think it’s some moral line in the sand?” Akiel spread his hands. “You are living in a dream world. Anyway, you seem to have thoroughly debauched this one.”

  Larent knew he was right. He wasn’t any better than the others, and he had betrayed all his ideals. He scratched the back of his head. “Maven. I’ll give her to Maven.”

  “Maven likes men. No, I pick who we give her to.”

  “I’m never going to agree to—” But he never finished the sentence, because Onivia streaked across the tent and leaped onto Akiel’s back.

  She wrapped her arm around Akiel’s neck, tightening it, just the way he’d taught her.

  Larent was too stunned to react to this. He simply gaped at them.

  Akiel reached up and tried to dislodge her, but she’d done a very good job and she had a nice, tight grip on him. He was already fading.

  Akiel stumbled.

  She held on tight, gritting her teeth in concentration, her face ferocious. Ancestors save him, she was sort of beautiful like that.

  Akiel fell onto his knees.

  She went with him.

  Akiel struggled, but his struggles were less, were muted. He pawed ineffectively at her hands, his eyes wide.

  Still Onivia held on.

  Larent took a lurching step forward. “Domina.”

  Akiel went limp against her.

  She didn’t let go.

  “Domina.” His voice was stronger. He came closer. “What do you think to accomplish?”

  Her voice was strained with the effort of continuing to put pressure on him. “You were wavering. You were going to give me to him, or to someone else, and I won’t be traded about like… like…”

  “Like a slave?” He pulled her off Akiel, and it didn’t take much effort. Not because she wasn’t holding as tight as she could. Just because he was stronger than her.

  She let out a cry of strangled rage, slamming her fists into his chest.

  “I wasn’t going to give you to him or anyone.”

  “You said Maven.”

  “Because I knew he wouldn’t—”

  “Fuck you.” She backed away and looked about.

  Akiel was reviving. He coughed.

  She dove across the tent and snatched up Larent’s dagger.

  “Domina!” he cried out.

  She hurled herself at Akiel, slashing with the dagger.

  A line of red opened up under Akiel’s chin. He gagged on his blood, hands flailing out, trying to grasp at anything, and then he went still and fell back to the floor of the tent. He lay there, bleeding out onto the carpets that were spread over the ground.

  “Fuck,” said Larent.

  She turned the dagger on him. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to Albus. You can say whatever you like. Say I did it while you were both sleeping after you’d shared me as he suggested.”

  “Oh,” he said. “I see. So, why didn’t you slit my throat?”

  “I don’t know. I would if I could. I suppose you woke up and stopped me.”

  “And then you still got away from me? No, I’ll tell them you’re dead. You killed Akiel, but not before he managed to stab you, and you bled out.”

  “Fine,” she said. “But I can go?”

  He drew in a breath, looking down at Akiel and then up at her, at her nose reddened in the cold. Sacred magics. He nodded. “Yes, you can go.”

  She gave him a fierce, triumphant smile.

  He passed a hand over his face. “Otherwise I must take the blame for this, and I… I can’t have killed him, not another fae, not for a human woman.”

  She pointed the bloody dagger at him. “Then it is a bargain.”

  He eyed her, hesitating. She was so eager to leave him. Of course she was. Why would he think anything else? “I’ll carry your body out myself, wrapped up, blankets over your head.”

  “No,” she said.

  “Yes,” he said. “But I must see to Akiel first, and you will stay in here, quiet, and wait.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll deliver you to Naxus’s doorstep, domina. You don’t even know where his camp is. You can’t get through the snow on your own.”

  She drew back. “Oh, careful, centurion, one might think you were concerned about my safety.”

  “Of course I am,” he whispered.

  Her face twisted. “Don’t.”

  “Domina—”

  “Don’t.” She pointed the dagger at him, and her lower lip trembled. “You said it before. None of that was real.”

  He hung his head.

  She drew in a noisy breath.

  “Fine, then,” he said, his voice harsh. “Then I’ll take you to him, because I want you to tell him that it was me who took your virtue. I’d like to imagine his face when he hears that.”

  She recoiled.

  He let out an ugly laugh. “Wait here, domina. I need to see to the body.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  FAE CAME INTO Magdalia’s chambers and began packing her trunk full of clothes. They did not speak to her. They never did.

  They took the trunks out and they dressed her, all wordlessly, barely acknowledging her.

  Then they came and took her by the arms to escort her out of her chambers.

  She refused to go. She sat down on the floor and squealed like a child. “I will not go anywhere unless someone explains to me what is happening.”

  It took two of the men to pick her up.

  They carried her out of the room and down the stairs, and all the while she shrieked and struggled.

  Outside the palace, the sky was white with the promise of snow. She was tossed into a chariot. She would have fought the driver, but it was cold, and the freezing air stole her fight from her.

  The chariot stopped at the train station.

  They put her in a compartment like the one she’d traveled in before—plush and lavish. Still a prison. She could not open the door.

  She was in the compartment alone for hours as the train made its way through the countryside before Duranth arrived.

  “Why can’t you tell me anything?” she demanded of him. “Why must the fae who serve me refuse to speak to me?”

  “You want to be told things? You want them to talk to you?” He smiled. “Well, cooperate, then, Magda.”

  She glowered at him. “Never.”

  He shrugged. “I hope it won’t matter. You were… quite overtaken by the magic when I came to your bed.”

  “We both were.”

  “Yes,” he said. “We were. I lost control, but so did you.” He smiled. “I’m going to use that.”

  “No,” she said.

  “Yes,” he said, and then he kissed her.

  She shoved him off of her, putting magic into it, magic she pulled from his body.

  He collided with the opposite side of the compartment and he laughed. “Isn’t it just too bad you can only do that if I’m around? Wouldn’t it be easier if you had some magic with some bite to it?”

  “I hate you.”

  “Oh, that’s the thing. You really don’t.” He yawned. “Well, it’s going to be several more hours’ journey. Might as well take a nap.” He stretched out on the seat opposite her and he really did fall asleep.

  She wen
t to him, pulling magic out of him, trying to make it work on the doors of the train, but they were all made of metals and the magic wouldn’t do anything to them.

  Why wasn’t Duranth affected by the metals as he should be? Why were the fae so strong now? Why didn’t she hate him?

  Finally, she did nothing, defeated. She stared out the window at the countryside moving past them. She watched as the sun set, as the sky turned orange, and then red, and then violet. Finally, it was dark.

  He awoke again, and though he spoke to her, she refused to speak to him for the last leg of the journey.

  Eventually, the train stopped.

  They disembarked onto a train station out in the midst of the woods, somewhere to the south. It had snowed here recently, and everything was covered in a layer of sparkling white. It gleamed in the moonlight, and he led her down a trail through tall evergreen trees, their boughs coated in snow.

  It was cold.

  As they walked, Duranth spoke to her. “The legions are coming back, as I told you. There are several legions advancing, getting into skirmishes here and there with my forces. Some haven’t seen any action yet. There’s a legion lead by Naxus Albus, for instance, further south, close to your sister. Isn’t that a funny coincidence?”

  She furrowed her brow.

  “Oh, yes, Magda, yes, I know all about you. Anyway, never mind that. We’re much closer to a human encampment, and there was a battle here, only two days ago.”

  And then they broke through the trees into a clearing.

  The moonlight spilled down on a wide open field full of bodies.

  The air smelled of rot and copper and she whimpered at the carnage.

  He took her hand, pumping his magic out—some of it into her, some of it out into the dead bodies.

  “No,” she said, trying to pull her hand out of his.

  He tightened his grip, pulling her close. “Yes,” he hissed.

  She tried to struggle, and he abruptly let go of her. She was momentarily too stunned to do anything at all.

  Then he had his arm around her waist, the one that ended in his artificial hand. He pinned her against him, holding her fast. His good hand crawled over her clothes to close over her breast.

  She gasped.

  Her magic surged.