The Book of Never: The Complete Series

by Ashley Capes

  “We?”

  “Since when did you care about things like war and invasions?”

  “Truly spoken. But what I was really asking is ‘why’ Sacha? What do you care about the size of Vadiya’s borders?”

  “Oh, Never.” She moved closer, then placed a foot on his chest. Impossible not to see how shapely her leg was. She gave him a push and he fell back. She loomed over him. “Somehow there’s still something naive about you, beneath all that cockiness.”

  “It’s not charming?”

  “Never, you might have been my father’s prisoner for months but so was I, only all my life,” she said, her brow furrowing and her blue eyes flashing. “Maybe I didn’t run when you did but I soon found the courage to leave. And see now, I’ve already become everything he said I could never become.”

  “Yes, you have.” He met her gaze. “But you had help.”

  “Of course. I’ll spare you too many details but Prince Tendov transformed me from a spirited, angry young woman into a First Hawk. A leader of men.”

  “You were already a brilliant soldier when we met.”

  “True. And now I am more.” She pulled her cloak around her shoulders and strode to the exit. “Stay put, Never. My guards have orders to kill you if you run, and I wouldn’t want that.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To check on your friends – and when I return, we’ll talk some more and you can convince me that you’re useful. How does that sound?”

  He closed his eyes, in fear or anticipation? “Like old times.”

  Sacha chuckled and the rustle of the tent flap followed.

  Chapter 14.

  Never twisted his legs out from under his body and stretched as he rolled onto his side. With his arms still bound behind his back, he didn’t relish the idea of being the only Marlosi man in Vadiya armour running through a camp of three hundred men.

  Their voices washed over the pavilion, loud in the night, yet it was only those nearest he could make out; Sacha’s guards, both of whom appeared concerned about Prince Tendov’s impending visit.

  “Word is he’ll be here tomorrow,” one said.

  A grunt. “I heard. And knowing him, he’ll appear tonight, just to keep everyone on edge.”

  “She’ll keep him busy though.”

  “Yeah, well – not long enough, Stasn. He’ll be stalking about the place looking for faults to point out before we know it. And guess who he’ll scrutinise first?”

  “You’re right about that,” Stasn said with a sigh.

  A moment of silence passed between them.

  “Think he’ll have us move on Jenisan soon?” Stasn said.

  “Only if that fool Floriak has done as he claimed. The Prince won’t want to lose the advantage of the twin strike, right?”

  “Right.”

  Another pause, then, “How long you think she’ll be?” Stasn again.

  “Why?”

  “I need to visit the latrines.”

  A snort from the first guard. “You’ve got time, she took her kit and her bodyguards with her. She’s going to be thorough.”

  Never shifted. Powerless. Sacha wouldn’t need to torture them; Luis would know they had nothing to gain by hiding anything. He had to. He had to. Come on, Luis, don’t be a fool. “And Tsolde, you better keep your temper under control,” he murmured.

  “Think they’re spies?” Stasn asked.

  “Who knows.”

  “And the one inside? What did you make of him?”

  “Now that’s curious – maybe she just wants some sport but they seemed to know each other. Had a lot to talk about.”

  “Right. And you know what Prince Tendov will think of that,” Stasn laughed and his fellow joined in. Footsteps receded.

  Never rolled onto his other side with a soft groan. Wonderful. On top of everything else, a jealous boyfriend to contend with. Sacha had better return before Tendov dropped in. Especially if the man was likely to surprise the troops. More, Tendov seemed entirely lacking tolerance, not the kind of fellow who would respond well to finding a man bound in his lover’s tent.

  While he waited, Never rotated his position, sometimes on his side, or his knees, or pacing the tent as the night wore on, he spent a good deal of time glancing over the maps on the table where he noted several planned invasion routes in Hanik. Shading indicated conquered territory in Marlosa, most of the central but little in the north, where the Empress would hopefully still hold out. The imperial city was shaded too, but the southern reaches had little to reveal of Vadiya movement.

  Quisa.

  Home? Perhaps, but only slightly more so than Marlosa itself. The Quisoan would not have fought long, being a smaller collection of villages and nomadic tribes, rather than a single force. And they possessed no resource the Vadiya would want – except for, perhaps their horses. Quisoan horses were prized.

  A woman’s voice.

  He turned as the tent flap opened. Sacha strode inside, then leant back to speak to her guards, voice lowered. She smiled at Never as she unclasped her cloak and threw it in a corner, her sword belt following. No trace of blood on her body or hands. Either she cleaned up or she didn’t actually hurt them.

  Some of the tension in his body eased. Some.

  Sacha approached and placed her hand on his cheek. “I’m surprised – it seems you really were just caught in the wrong place.”

  “My friends?”

  “Relax, Never. I barely threw a punch – they were very forthcoming, and concerned for you. Which I found touching.”

  “Then they’re alive?”

  “Of course, which is how they’ll stay as long as I will it. Understood?”

  He nodded. It was too soon to smile, to allow relief in, but at least they were alive. “And now?”

  She pushed him toward the bed. “No more talking.”

  Never stumbled, but kept his feet. She grinned and pushed him harder. He crashed into the pillows. Sacha was moments behind, straddling him and pressing her lips against his. He kissed her back, blood surging and his body responding to hers.

  She broke the kiss, pausing to draw a thin knife free from where it had been concealed in the small of her back. “Don’t think this means I’m untying you – try something foolish and I will kill you, Never. Your blood isn’t faster than my knife.”

  “You’re in charge.”

  Her eyes were hard. “I am.”

  She kept the knife in hand but leant in close, her free hand gripping his tunic. She cut through the fabric, exposing his chest and running her lips across his skin, up to his neck where the heat of her breath caused him to shiver.

  He felt her lips change shape, as though she smiled.

  ***

  Never lay in the cool dark of the tent, Sacha’s breathing washing over him where she lay across his chest.

  The brazier had died down and shadows pressed in around the red glow, as if suppressing the very embers. Beyond the canvas walls the camp lay quiet, awaiting dawn with only soft sounds, a gentle wind stirring a tent flap or a distant bird waking somewhere high above.

  He shifted his arm slightly and Sacha stirred. She had untied him after a time, thankfully, though his wrists were still a little raw. Would it have been easier to tell himself she’d given him no choice? She had been in control, any attempt at resistance would have been pointless, considering where he was.

  Yet he always had a choice – he could have fought and she would have killed him.

  But that was no choice at all, surely?

  No, the real problem was simple enough. He’d enjoyed it. Every moment was a moment of bliss. The memories of the firmness of her body, her scent, the lightness of her touch, her forcefulness, all were naught but shades compared to actually sharing her bed once more.

  And even though the last time had been years in the past now – the night before he’d taken his chance to escape her father’s keep in fact – it seemed he’d forgotten nothing by the way his senses were overwhelmed durin
g the night, the way every emotion flooded back.

  Vivid, yet tinted with the desperation of youth.

  Things were different now.

  And what sort of night had Luis and Tsolde spent? He had to find them; there was a way out of the camp if he took the time to find it.

  “I can hear you thinking. Stop it,” she said.

  He laughed softly. “And what am I thinking about?”

  “Running away – what you always think about,” Sacha said. She rolled away from him, reaching for water. Her back was smooth in the faint light and he reached out to stroke it.

  “Are you going to try and stop me again?”

  She lay back, pulling the blanket up to cover her breasts. “I can’t let you simply walk out of my camp, Never. You know that.”

  “Then let me sneak out. Pretend you killed me, I’ll figure something out.”

  She appraised him a moment. “No. Nothing like that. Things have changed.”

  Even Sacha was echoing his thoughts. “I know you don’t plan on keeping me in your tent forever.”

  She glanced away. “No, I do not.”

  “And I assume you don’t want me to meet him, either.”

  Now she smiled. “I doubt you two would enjoy each other’s company – you’re too alike.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’m like Prince Tendov?”

  “You’re both driven by something... and neither of you give up,” she said, then stood and began to dress. “Otherwise you might be opposites.”

  “Well let’s hurry. He’ll be here soon, won’t he?”

  She glanced at him, hands busy with the laces on her shirt.

  “Your guards were obviously feeling chatty while you were gone; I heard enough to know they’re afraid of him.”

  “As they should be.”

  Never stood, reaching for his own clothing. “Why don’t you have me transferred to the mines as a prisoner – it’s close to where I’m going. You can save face and I can escape – leave me one of my knives.”

  “You still wish to cross the border?”

  “Yes. There is something there, Sacha, something that will give me another clue as to my true name.”

  “You still believe that? What if you don’t ever find anything, Never – what then?”

  “I die searching.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll arrange the transfer. Dress quickly. Take my knife, hide it well because you’ll need it. I’ll be sending you to the cells bound. It won’t be a picnic.”

  “Life has never been a picnic,” he said, “though last night was pleasant enough.”

  “So it was.” She’d finished with her boots and strode out of the tent.

  Never leapt into the rest of his clothing, that which remained in one piece, and slipped the thin knife within the seam of his pants. Then he drank from her water and searched for food – how long since he’d eaten now? His hunger roared back. There was a hessian bag of apples beside her travelling chest, he took one out and bit into it.

  “What are you doing, jenaek?”

  One of her bodyguards, Fernov, stood in the entryway, a regular Vadiya soldier joining him.

  Never swallowed his mouthful. “Eating an apple.”

  The Steelhawk frowned as he strode over and held up a length of rope. “Hands.”

  After another bite, Never tossed the apple to the soldier, possibly Stasn – who caught it with a blink – then held out his hands to be bound. The Steelhawk was hardly gentle, but he didn’t take the opportunity to lay into Never out of sight of his mistress either.

  He caught Never by the shoulder. “You might not be a spy but you are a fool. Now march.”

  Never left the pavilion, the steely light of dawn covering the rows of tents. Smoke from new fires added to the grey of the world. Sacha was nowhere to be seen and a jerk on the arm from his guard didn’t give him time to look.

  He was herded to the Giant’s Bridge and then escorted across it at such a pace that he was climbing the trail beyond before he’d had a chance to adjust to the rising sun. At the top of the ridge his guards paused while one shook a stone out of his boot, tossing it into one of the wagon-ridges in the road.

  Below spread the entrance to the silver mine, bustling with activity despite the early hour. Campfires burned clean, spread around tents and wooden buildings. Dozens of Steelhawks walked the length of the mine, hands on their weapons. Hanik men in plain clothing, their faces almost black with dirt, pushed empty carts along steel rails into a gaping maw in the rock face. Lanterns disappeared within the dark slope.

  Other men pushed carts laden with grey rock onto nearby platforms where the contents were lifted by a series of ropes and pulleys and cursing men. The cart was then pushed along a constructed rail that ranged over the heads of the workers, to be tipped into something of a quarry, where men with hammers and shackles shattered the stone.

  Somewhere out of sight, the crushed rock was obviously fed into a sluice or perhaps directly into a furnace. The furnace wasn’t visible from his position, but its smoke stained the sky. Even from some distance the scent was noxious; the sooner the wind changed the better.

  “Get going,” one of his guards said.

  At the bottom of the gentle slope Never was met by a heavyset man with a large hammer swinging from his belt, a set of keys on the opposite hip. He grunted as he accepted Never, hauling him around one of the buildings and through a heavy door into a long corridor. Miner’s barracks, converted into a prison – fresh bolts and brackets affixed to each door.

  Two pair of guards stood at either end of the prison.

  “Soup, bread and water twice a day,” the jailor said when he stopped at one of the makeshift cells. He frowned when Never didn’t respond, then held up two fingers and repeated the information in broken Marlosi.

  “I speak Vadiyem,” Never said.

  “Then answer me next time – else I’ll break a leg with my hammer, got it?”

  “Yes.”

  The man grunted again, then unhooked his keys, opening the door and shoving Never into a tiny room with a cot, a bucket and nothing else.

  The door slammed shut and then the lock clicked. The heavy clank of the bolt sliding home followed.

  Trapped.

  Chapter 15.

  Two days had already passed and while he still had his knife; he’d accomplished little else. He’d only seen Luis twice and Tsolde once. Luis had been pressed into service in the mine; Never caught a glimpse of him while being allowed to walk about in chains one noon.

  The treasure-hunter had emerged from the mine’s dark mouth, pushing a cart with another man. Never caught Luis’ eye – and hope sparkled – before Luis lowered his head as his cart passed a Steelhawk.

  Never would be heading for the mines himself soon, once he’d finished digging the new latrine behind the barracks. And less pleasant work he could not think of off-hand. Tsolde had been pressed into service as some manner of bookkeeper, it seemed from a conversation he overheard between guards. She’d held her composure when they saw each other, revealing nothing, but as she followed Bendlav the jailor back to his office, taking down the figures he barked, her shoulders had straightened.

  At least she appeared unharmed.

  “Such confidence,” he said to himself, laying atop the blankets of his cot, arms and back aching from the day’s digging. “Nice to know they believe in me.” But escape was proving tediously difficult. Opportunities were scant, and with two friends in two separate places, a clean escape was looking doubtful.

  Sacha hadn’t lied.

  She hadn’t made it easy on him. The knife was a gift but what he really needed was a thousand Marlosi Calvary. Or a precision avalanche.

  Instead, he left his empty bowl by the door and sought some rest.

  Tomorrow, he’d have a chance to plan – to get a good look at the mine, see what holes would be possible to slip through.

  When dawn came it was to the rattling of steel in adjacent cells. Luis was in on
e of them but Never hadn’t been able to figure out which one yet. The other prisoners were miners and a single Vadiya, a soldier who’d obviously upset his superiors in some way. The fellow had been digging latrines and was due to return to duty.

  Which was useful – it left no-one to tell tales.

  His own cell soon opened, the guard handing Never a bowl of steaming soup with a sigh – presumably a sigh of boredom. “It must be tedious, all that freedom,” Never said to him in Vadiyem, the first time he’d spoken to the fellow.

  The guard blinked, then scowled as he scooped up last night’s empty bowl and slammed the door.

  Never chuckled and blew on the soup until it cooled.

  By the time he’d been hauled off to the mines, assembled with the other prisoners before a balding Steelhawk, all Hanik men save for Luis, who stood a head taller than the rest, the meal seemed a distant memory.

  The fellow growled his orders; no talking, no-one leaves the mine until sundown, two breaks for water and one for lunch. Anywhere deeper than the statue of the Mountain God was off-limits. “The tunnels aren’t safe – we’ve already lost men there to cave-ins. Keep to the lamps.” He frowned at Never. “New man?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Work hard and we’ll let you free once we’ve emptied the mine – same deal for everyone. And keep to the areas with lamps. I have men down there with whips and chains. Don’t make them use either.”

  Never nodded.

  The Steelhawk waved his hand and men paired off, some to head into the darkness and others for the empty carts nearby. Luis drifted over and gestured for Never to follow him. He did so, heading toward the dark.

  “Did she hurt you?” Never whispered, speaking Marlosi.

  “No worse than a bar-room brawl,” he said, gesturing to a fading bruise on his cheek. “She likes her answers swiftly, doesn’t she?”

  “And Tsolde?”

  “She didn’t hurt her – but I do not know where she is.”

  “I do. The jailor is using her to do his bookwork.”

  The track that sloped down into the mine was gentle enough and steps for foot traffic ran alongside. A glow from a pair of lanterns soon appeared ahead, a single guard stationed there. Luis stopped speaking and the whispers from the other men died away when the guard appeared, then resumed once the fellow was out of earshot, the trail levelling off. Here the torchlight led to active tunnels – the others, Luis told him, were mined out, dangerous or collapsed long ago.