Broken Lords: Book Two of the Broken Mirrors Duology

by A. F. Dery

  “Are you certain, Kesara? Once the thing is begun, it will be too late.”

  “It is already too late, my lord. If you wish to see the thing done, the first child is being born now,” Kesara told him. She felt pity of her own bloom inside her as he stared at her a moment in shock, then rushed into the bedroom.

  She was relieved he had gone; it was difficult to maintain such control with Lady Malachi’s pain relentlessly clenching her insides and knifing through her back. She forced herself to relax her muscles and let the pain wash over her without resistance, closing her eyes and controlling her breathing as she had been taught.

  It was difficult, but she cast about for something else to think of. Her mind fastened on Thane, and she shied from those thoughts. He will be so angry. But I hope he will understand. She thought of sitting in his lap in her bedroom, and his arms around her. She had felt so warm, so safe. That is what home feels like, if someone like me can truly be said to have one of her own, she realized. What I wouldn’t give to be there one last time.

  But how could she let herself live if she was able to control him through the bond? Such an aberration went well beyond her other defect. It rendered her a monster, unfit for such a mantle as the one she had assumed. He deserved so much better. She was sure he would prefer his own pain returned to him along with his liberty, than to remain the potential thrall of a freak like her.

  She turned her thoughts away again, just in time to hear a thin wail from the next room. The first one, she thought. Well done, Lady Malachi. One more to go.

  There was a respite in which she heard nothing more but some quiet mewling that belonged to the babe, a sound that she took comfort in, as it meant the child was strong enough to live- at least for the moment.

  Then the pains seem to redouble, and she felt the knife press down.

  I hope he knows what he’s doing, she thought as she gritted her teeth, seeing spots. Her hands gripped the sides of the chair. She thought back to the makeshift surgeries erected on battlefields, thought of amputations and severed limbs. This isn’t that bad, she told herself. And strangely, she didn’t feel like she was lying to herself. The surgeries were worse, probably because there were many more she was supposed to be responsible for than just one young woman in childbirth. Even if that birth was assisted by a blade.

  She recognized a while later the sensation of a needle, and knew Lady Malachi was being sewn up. She hoped that was a sign that the Lady had survived the ordeal. She heard crying again, but this time, it was not an infant’s.

  The other must have died, she thought sadly.

  The midwife came out, looking grave. She regarded Kesara with knowing eyes.

  “You’re the witch that took her pain?” she asked.

  Suddenly too tired to argue, Kesara said simply, “Yes.”

  The midwife nodded. “You did good. She didn’t feel a thing, even when he cut her.”

  “I’m glad,” Kesara answered, and meant it.

  “Only the first babe lived,” the old woman went on. “Might have been different, if they would have called me sooner, but there it is. The babe fights a bit to breathe, no telling how long it will last. Could live, might not. Only the gods know. Lady won’t be having any more after the way she was cut, though, I would put coin down on that.”

  Kesara wasn’t sure what to say. She felt the sewing finish. The incisions still stung sharply, the muscles around her belly- around Lady Malachi’s belly- ached terribly.

  “They’ll give her the herbs for pain now, and send you on back to where you came from,” the midwife told her. “I thought it would be nice to tell you. Surprised to find you sitting there looking like you’re waiting for tea, I thought I might have to revive you after all that. It was a terrible thing to watch. Babes aren’t meant to be cut out like that. Don’t know where the old fool even learned such a thing. Babe was already dead when he took it out, though.”

  Again, what do I say? This is terrible, Kesara thought miserably. She was actually relieved when the midwife left the room, relieved when she felt the deadening wash of the drugs in Lady Malachi’s system, and soon after saw Lord Malachi come out.

  “The physician gave Maggie all he could for the pain, he says she should be able to tolerate it now,” Malachi said. He was staring at her intently, looking for what now, Kesara couldn’t imagine. “You should return to your lord. We have kept you all night and half the day.”

  Kesara rose to her feet. “I’m very sorry about the one you lost, my lord.”

  Lord Malachi gave a forced, tired smile. “As are we all, Kesara. It is not certain the other will live, either, but so far…” He made a vague waving gesture with his hands. “Maggie seems to be doing fine as well, as long as her recovery proceeds as it should, she might well make it through this.” He looked away at last, with a slow shake of his head. “I owe your lord now a debt I am not sure I can repay. I don’t know what we would have done if you had not been here. I can scarcely believe you are the same sort of creature that was with us before. Incidentally, have you seen her at all? Has she bothered even to come out and see how things are going?”

  “I’ve not seen her, my lord,” Kesara said carefully. “But she has been assisting your wife for some time, hasn’t she? She might well need to sleep it off.”

  “Perhaps,” Malachi said, but there was a world- a very dark world- carried in that word. “Go on now.”

  “I can stay a while longer,” Kesara suggested. “Just to make certain she gets some rest.”

  “No, it’s better that Thane knows I am not taking undue advantage of his generosity. Maggie will be all right,” Malachi said, but she could sense the reluctance in the words.

  “Good day, then, my lord,” Kesara said, curtsying.

  And began to walk slowly back to the Eladrian tower, feeling her feet weighed down with both fatigue and foreboding.

  It was easily one of the longest, most torturous nights of Thane’s life. He returned to his rooms feeling hollow, stricken with pain and an ineffable sense of loss which bordered on the knife’s edge of grief. He told himself that he was being ridiculous, that he was overreacting, that she would return to him.

  But he felt a wild sense of panic that she would not, that she had left him for good. Bonded, she no longer truly needed his proximity; she could disappear as it pleased her, and what could he say? He did not own her. He did not want to own her. She was not in any sense property, and yet…gods, it’s killing me, not even knowing where she is!

  He sat out on the balcony off his bedroom, pipe gripped in hands shaking too badly to light it. Where had she gone? Why would she not stay and speak with him? He would do anything to make it right, didn’t she know that? Did she truly fear him so much now that she did not even feel she could say goodbye? Was he such a monster, after all?

  This is insane, it was only a kiss, he told himself. Anyone can make a mistake. She was upset, and it upset me that she was upset, and…oh, this is pointless. His mind went round in frantic circles until it fastened on a new idea.

  Perhaps that really is what she wanted, and she had gone elsewhere for it when he would not provide. Perhaps she had sought another man’s company this night, a man who could kiss her properly with lips that weren’t mangled on a mouth that was not over-large, whose arms she could spend the night in without fear. This new thought brought with it a melange of emotions he couldn’t even name, sickening, dark feelings that made him want to do violence to everything around him, including himself. He felt the wood of his pipe start to give in his fingers, and forced himself to drop it with a clatter.

  Don’t be stupid, she’s not yours like that…you promised her she would not be, he scolded himself. You don’t have affairs, you will never marry, there will be no woman to wail over your grave one day. You’ve always known this.

  And had he not expected her to take up with Darius, when he’d sent her to work for him? Had he not been resigned to their affair? If all had gone as he had thought it would,
would she not even now be writing the golden-haired man letters, telling him about the palace, telling him she missed him? Would she not be saddened at cold nights without him?

  But that wasn’t what had happened. She hadn’t chosen Darius. It was not his lips she had sought, but insanely, bizarrely, his, Thane’s. And now was she seeking another’s? Had she gone back through the servants’ hallways to some lord who had tried to flirt with her earlier? Had she taken up with one of the servants she had met in the kitchens? Was it even one of his own guards, perhaps, she had agreed to meet somehow? Would they do that to him, would they even realize what they were doing to him?

  He felt sick, dizzy with it; he thought he would have vomited and known some relief if he had eaten anything at dinner, but he had not, and could not. He stared at the gathering darkness, steeped in his own with aching eyes. He clutched at the bond between them in his own mind, but all he caught were vague flickers of anxiety or sadness; there were no true needs there, except a growing fatigue that could have meant anything, could have confirmed his worst fears or simply been the natural progression of the night.

  He thought it did mean she was not sleeping; wherever she was, she must be as awake as he was, but he wasn’t sure that gave him any comfort, knowing what it could signify. He finally forced himself to unclench his hands, only to find his palms bloodied by his nails. She would have felt that, he thought with regret. He had not even noticed. It was obviously not enough to inspire her return, however, not that he had meant for it to happen anyway. The mad thought occurred to him that if he broke a limb or something, she might come back: surely he meant something to her? He had seen the look in her blue eyes before he had kissed her: that look was seared into his memory for the rest of his life.

  But he pushed the temptation away. He would not, could not, hurt her like that. It would be like a punishment, and he had told her that she was free. It occurred to him, only now, that Kesara could have left him any time she wanted once they had bonded, but had chosen to remain. She had to know he would not pursue or punish her through the bond, as another refrere might have done if she had tried to go. But she had stayed, had wanted to be near him. Thane couldn’t begin to reason this out, to understand it, especially if she could put it aside so lightly…

  But it wasn’t lightly. I broke her trust, Thane thought, feeling his eyes burn and savagely rubbing at them with his knuckles.

  And around and around his mind went, until he went inside and collapsed on his bed in exhaustion.

  He did not stir until well past daybreak. He knew this because he had not drawn the curtains to the balcony, had even left the door standing wide open, and when he finally pried his scratchy, swollen eyelids open, sun poured in like liquid fire. He awoke with the same sense of breathless anxiety that he had when he woke from nightmares of battles long past, only to realize that he had not been dreaming, she had gone. The pain in his chest had not. His throat felt dry and raw, and he wasn’t sure why. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, blearily realizing he was still fully dressed for dinner, down to his boots.

  Then he felt it, from the bond: a terrible despair. What it demanded, he did not know, but it didn’t matter, for then he heard something: crying.

  He went out from the bedroom in a daze, saw her bedroom door was closed. He was sure it had been open the night before. He resisted the sudden urge to tear it from its hinges and rapped politely on it instead.

  “Come in,” he heard her say, in a weak voice he almost didn’t recognize. He forced himself to keep his face still, his lips compressed in a neutral line, and opened the door.

  She was sitting at the dressing table, plain affair though it was. The mirror on the back of it was turned to the wall; it had not been so the last time he had been in here, and it puzzled him. It was something he would do, but he couldn’t imagine why she would. She was sitting with her back very straight, her hands folded in her lap. His eyes, a soldier’s eyes, noticed at once that the position of her fingers was odd: she was holding something, but he couldn’t tell what.

  Her eyes were trained on the table before her, but he could see the moisture on her cheeks. He tried desperately to think of something to say, something that wasn’t ridiculous, and all he could think of was, “You came back.” His voice came out gravelly and choked; he cleared his throat, embarrassed, and tried to say it again, more clearly, but his voice broke on the last word, and he gave up, staring at her helplessly.

  “Thane, I have wronged you twice in the past day and night,” Kesara said. Her voice still sounded weak, but it was steady. “I don’t deserve the privilege of explaining myself to you, but I hope you will allow me to.” She finally looked to him, and he saw her eyes were red-rimmed and weary.

  Unable to speak, he nodded.

  “I acted in your name last night, without your consent, and did what I knew you would not want me to do,” Kesara told him. “I am not sorry for it. I hope you will understand someday why I acted as I did. I have no excuse for myself, I did what I believed to be in your best interests. I did what I could to serve you. That is one of the ways I have wronged you.

  “The other, you already know. I tried to tell you, once, that I was broken, that I was not…fit…for bonding. But I had no idea just how unfit I was until yesterday, in this same room.” She looked away again, and he could tell she was trying not to cry, her shoulders slightly trembling, her voice growing unsteady. “For that, I am sorry, more sorry that I can ever tell you. But it can yet be fixed, and fix it I will. I only wanted to do all I could for you first, and I hope I have accomplished that.”

  “Wait, Kes, please,” Thane said, holding out his hands. What he felt from the bond, the shadows beyond her words, was beginning to unnerve him. “I don’t understand what the hell you’re talking about! You are not unfit. Why would you say that?” Cautiously, he took a step closer to her, but she did not appear to notice.

  “You know why,” she said in a small voice. Her hands, Thane saw, were definitely gripping something, so tightly now that her knuckles were turning white.

  “If I did, I would not be asking you now and distressing you further, I promise you,” he said in a low voice.

  “I-I’m not supposed to be able to…make anyone do anything through a bond. It’s not possible. But yesterday…” Her voice caught on the word and she started to sob openly.

  Awareness hit him like a cudgel to a kidney. “Gods, Kes, no. You didn’t make me do anything. I swear to you. What I did, I did because I wanted to. Believe me, I wanted to, I still want to.” Then he clamped his mouth shut and suddenly wished he could bite off his own tongue, then had the disturbing thought that this might actually be possible.

  Her startled eyes met his again. “How do you know you’re not just feeling what I want, Thane? What if I’m compelling you somehow without even meaning to? I’m already defective in one way, how hard is it to believe that I may be in another?”

  “You’re not compelling me, Kes. I am entirely capable of not acting on your needs. While I was out yesterday afternoon, I couldn’t even tell we were bonded, so far had I put it from my mind without even meaning to. Please believe me, there is no compulsion going on. I was not upset because I felt forced, I was upset because I took advantage of you when you were vulnerable. I gave you my word and I felt I had broken it- broken it of my own free will, mind you.” Thane moved closer still, within arm’s reach of her, and she just looked at him tearfully.

  “I thought you were afraid of me, for acting as I did,” he admitted in a near whisper. “I thought you left last night. There is nothing I would not do to make things right, Kes, but I don’t know how. Please just tell me how.”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” Kesara said with a frown. The tears dripped down her face unheeded. What is she holding?

  “I felt fear, from the bond, yesterday….after,” Thane said awkwardly. Kesara shook her head.

  “I was afraid of what I had done, Thane, of what I might be capable of. How would you fe
el in my position?” Kesara asked with a humorless laugh. She looked at the table again and said very quietly,“Thane, all I want is to be with you. But not at the expense of your happiness, of your life.”

  “You aren’t costing me either, Kes,” Thane said, and he bent down on one knee beside her chair, placed a hand over hers. “I want you with me. That is why I brought you here, after all. I don’t know why you choose to stay with me, I didn’t even realize until last night that, of course, you could always just leave any time you wanted now.”

  That startled her into looking at him again, her eyes wide. “But I wouldn’t do that, Thane. I’m yours.”

  “I’m not sure what that means. I don’t own you, I thought we were clear on this.”

  Kesara just shook her head, looking confused. He gently squeezed her fingers. “Don’t worry about it right now.” He gently turned her right hand over, palm up, and froze.

  Slowly, hazily, as if in a nightmare, the glint of the blade in her lap, partially hidden by her gray skirt, came into focus, followed by the spreading line of crimson on the under side of her right arm, previously hidden from his view.

  His eyes went to hers, wide, beseeching.

  “I would fix it,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t condemn you to life yoked with an aberration.”

  “You’re not an aberration,” he said hoarsely, tearing off his shirt. “Mad, yes. Aberration, no.” He tore it into bandages and started wrapping. “Please, please tell me you didn’t get to the other one!”

  “I barely ‘got to’ this one,” Kesara said, and he could hear the frown in her voice that he couldn’t see, focused on her arm as he was. “It’s a scratch.”

  He could see now the side of her bodice dark with blood where her arm had been pressed. “Rather expert scratch. You knew just which way to cut, didn’t you? Have you done this before?”

  “No, but I’ve seen it done before,” she answered. “Is there a better way?”