by Frost Kay
That disturbed her. “Why?”
To her surprise, he answered her: “Because we would have failed to complete our task. The warlord does not have time for things that are not useful.”
Disgusted, she grimaced. No one should use a person like that, but in the back of her mind, an idea took root. If she died, they died. It was simple.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He shook his head. “You’re not selfish enough to do it.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I’ve known people like you. Despite what you know of us, you wouldn’t sacrifice all these men. It wouldn’t be something you could shoulder. It would destroy you.”
“Perhaps, but none of you are men.” His eyes narrowed, but she hurt too much to care. Maybe if he hit her, she would black out for a bit and find some relief.
He raised a brow. “Then what are we?”
“Monsters,” she said, not losing eye contact. They were. They weren’t human.
“Always remember that,” he said as he tossed the end of the rope at her feet. “Tend to the other woman.”
She let out a sigh of relief as the frighteningly intense warrior turned from her and prowled toward his men. She winced as she gathered up her leash and picked her way to Jasmine, who sat on the ground glaring at all of the surrounding men. Sage slid down the tree next to the feisty brunette and watched as a camp emerged among the trees.
“How are you?”
Jasmine scoffed. “Well, that’s obvious. I am damn peachy.”
The reply pulled a smile from Sage, despite her split lip. “What’s the worst of it, Jas?”
Jas grimaced and pulled in a painful breath. “The cracked ribs. I think they may have broken one yesterday.”
“Did you bind it?”
“Sort of.”
Sage moved onto her knees. “Let me see it.”
Jasmine shifted to the side. “Lift my shirt, please. My shoulder’s not working.”
Sage gently pulled up the woman’s shirt. “Beasts,” she hissed. Jasmine’s skin was mottled purple, blue, and green. She glanced at her friend’s pained face. “I’m sorry for this, Jas. This is going to hurt.”
“Do what you must.”
She sat back and stared at her shirt. There wasn’t enough fabric. “Swamp apples,” she cursed. “I will have to ask them for supplies.”
Jasmine gripped her thigh as she moved to stand up. “Don’t. They’ll just taunt you.”
She met her friend’s remarkable blue-gray eyes. “I’ve no other choice. You can’t go on without healing.”
She squeezed Jasmine’s hand once and forced herself to stand on her cut feet. Once again, she squished through the mud and leaves toward the men forming up camp. It discomfited her greatly, but it was better than being in Rhys’ arms. She scanned the camp and caught sight of the leader. “Blair!”
The camp seemed to freeze at her shout. The large man turned, his mouth turned down. “What did you call me?”
Hell. She’d broken some sort of protocol. “Your name.”
The black slashes of his brows rose as the whole camp seemed to hold their breath. “This is not Aermia. You may not speak to me as you wish.”
Gritting her teeth, she calmed herself at his mocking tone. She needed supplies for Jasmine. Time to play nice. Sage dipped into a deep curtsey, humiliated. But it was worth it for her friend.
“My apologies. What shall I call you?”
“My lord.”
She pulled herself from her deep curtsey and met his eyes. “My lord… I need supplies for Jasmine. Her injuries need care.”
He eyed her. “Do you not have fabric?”
Sage blew out a breath. Obviously not, since she was asking him. “No, I do not.”
Rhys sauntered back into camp, his gaze dipping to her shirt. “Seems to me you do.”
Her lips thinned. “There’s not enough material,” she replied as calmly as she could. “And its filthy.”
Lazily, Rhys smiled at her. “You do, but you’re being selfish. Would you really let your friend suffer for the sake of modesty? Take it off and help her.”
The blood in her veins froze; her heart seized painfully in her chest. He wanted her to strip in front of everyone. She looked over her shoulder at Jas, who was glaring daggers at all the men. Sage turned back to the leader and Rhys, meeting his gaze. They held a taunt and a dare. He might think to humiliate her, but she’d gone through worse things. If he wanted to punish her, so be it. She’d not cower.
Despite her resolve, her hands trembled and her cheeks burned as she began unbuttoning her shirt. Sage held her head high and locked her eyes on the leader. It was easier looking at him than the demon at his side.
The dirty linen slowly parted to reveal the half-corset she wore underneath. Her sleeves slipped down her arms, exposing her damp skin to the humid air. She peeled the soiled fabric from her wrists, one at a time, hung it over her bicep, and held her hands out, her body completely on display for the silent group of men gawking at her. “Anything else, my lord?”
Even though she tried to ignore the heavy stares of the surrounding men, she couldn’t help the goosebumps that broke out across her arms. That one piece of linen was protection. It hid her curves from them; it was at least a barrier they would have to get through to get to her.
Or, at least, it had been.
The leader broke their stare-off and scanned her body, his brows pulling together. “So many scars.”
Sage kept silent and swallowed the retort on the tip of her tongue. Her sarcasm was a way to protect herself. One more defense that the Scythians had stripped her of.
The leader crossed his arms and tipped his head, his raven braids sliding over his shoulder. “What happened to you?”
Surprise filled her. He didn’t know?
“I did,” Rhys boasted.
Stillness settled over the camp. The hair on her arms rose, and she shifted on her feet, wanting to hide from whatever was coming.
“You marred her?” the leader asked, his tone sharp as a blade.
“It was punishment.”
“That’s disgraceful,” a lanky warrior said, venom clear in his voice.
“Silence!” Rhys snarled, a promise of vengeance on his face. The warrior immediately shut his mouth and stared at the ground, no doubt pondering his future punishment.
Sage shivered and brushed at her filthy corset, needing to do something with her hands. “Woman…” Something about the leader’s voice scared her. He was not one to be trifled with.
She lifted her eyes and stared at his chest.
“You have your fabric. Go take care of the woman.”
Her spine stiffened at the command, but, as it gave her the chance to escape being the center of attention, she simply nodded. Turning her back to the leader and Rhys, ignoring the gazes of the surrounding men, she started to leave. Her steps faltered as the leader issued a command:
“The prior rule stands. If you touch her or the other woman, your life is a forfeit.”
Picking up speed, she reached Jas just as her legs gave out. As she fell to her knees beside her friend, every muscle in her body hurt. She studiously kept her eyes from Jasmine’s face.
“I’m so sorry, Sage.”
“Me, too,” she whispered as she tore long strips from her shirt. Tears blurred her eyes, turning her task into a watercolor of greens, browns, and creams. She hated crying; it made her feel weak. A small hand halted her jerky movements, causing her to look up. She blinked repeatedly, trying to clear the tears from her eyes.
Jasmine’s stormy gaze met hers. “Truly. If I could move right now, I’d go give them an earful.”
Sage scanned her face, noting the sincerity, but right behind it lurked fear. “I won’t let them do this to you. I’ll protect you.”
Her friend’s lips curled. “We’ll protect each other, sis.”
The casual use of ‘sis’ about knocked the wind out of Sage. Jas had just claimed her as family. F
or the first time in four days, warmth bloomed in her chest. She held her hand out, and Jas clasped it. “We’ll protect each other, sis.” She’d found a friend and an ally in the most unexpected place.
Dropping Jasmine’s hand, she plucked a strip of her shirt from the damp ground and said, “Hold still. This will hurt.”
Chapter Five
TEHL
Four days.
Sage had been missing for four days.
The last four days had been hell. Pure, unadulterated hell.
After his wife’s abduction, everything came crashing down: Garreth almost died; his father practically disowned him; the rebellion leader tried to kill him; and her mother slapped him across the face. The only ones who’d stood by him were Lilja and Hayjen. That surprised him.
Gwen’s accusations still echoed in his mind. You promised to protect her! You’re a liar. A murderer. This is your fault! He had taken it. The look on Colm’s face gutted him. It bespoke deep pain and great loss. He hadn’t spoken out and blamed Tehl in the way Gwen had, but the accusations were there in his green eyes, so similar to Sage’s.
Tehl had failed them. He’d failed Sage.
He picked up his stride and weaved through the hallways toward the war room. So far, it seemed like she had disappeared along with Rhys but, hopefully, today they’d find something. His stomach clenched, thinking of her alone with that monster. He couldn’t contemplate what was happening to her though for he needed to stay focused; he needed to find her.
But she had. Her cinnamon scent seemed to follow him everywhere. It was strongest in their room. He would sit by the fire, close his eyes and breathe. Something about it soothed him. She’d been as prickly as a sea urchin, but he’d grown accustomed to her sense of humour and brilliant smile. He kept expecting her to appear and chide him for his terrible people skills. From the beginning something had told Tehl that when the worst was over, they’d be allies, companions, friends. He was right, it had come and even quicker than he expected. Tehl was a solitary creature, but he’d found himself enjoying her company in spite of himself. He actually looked forward to teasing her. Previously, he’d never understood Sam’s fascination with stirring the pot and causing mischief, but after living with Sage he discovered it to be one of his favorite pastimes. She was so easy to rile. And now, he needed to find her so they could continue building on that foundation.
Arguing voices reached his ears before he even opened the door to the war room. He leaned his forehead against the wood and took a deep breath to calm himself. Outside of the room, he worried over his wife, but inside that room he had had to see the bigger picture. He was their leader and future king.
He straightened, blew out the breath he was holding, and steeled himself. Pushing open the door, he strode to his seat at the far end of an oval table. The room quieted with entrance. He lifted his eyes to scan the group of men and women around him. “Where is my wife?”
Everyone was eerily silent.
The small amount of hope he had harbored in his heart crashed and burned. They’d still found nothing.
“My lord, there has not been enough time to—”
Anger burned through his veins at William’s statement. “Not enough time? My consort has been missing for four days! Where is she?”
Still silence.
He looked to Rafe. “Where is my wife?”
The rebellion leader seemed to vibrate in his chair. He’d almost turned feral at the news of Sage’s disappearance. “I used everything, and everyone, to the best of my ability. There’s no trail. Wherever Rhys took her, he did not want us to follow and he did a damn good job of making sure we couldn’t.”
The longer Tehl stared at Rafe, the more he felt the reins on his emotions slipping. Rafe had promised to take care of Rhys, yet obviously he was still alive. Not only alive, but hurting someone he cared about. Tehl blamed him as much as he blamed himself.
Silence still reigned.
Irritation pricked at him. “What is the purpose of this meeting if none of you have any information for me?” he asked. “You should be out searching instead sitting here idly.”
“My lord, Sanee and the nearby villages have been searched,” Lilja said softly. “There’s no way in knowing which direction to go.”
Some of his irritation abated at her mild statement. She was right. They needed a specific plan of action for their hunt to produce results. Each hour that passed was another Sage no doubt fought for her life so time was of the essence. “Suggestions?”
“Escape by sea would be smart,” Zachael, the combat master, said. “The harbor is close, and it would be easy to conceal an unconscious woman.”
“While you are right,” Hayjen added, “Lilja and I have secured the logs of the ships and fishing boats in our bay. They’ve been searched and come up empty.”
“She was missing for twelve hours before we discovered her disappearance,” Zachael said. “Is it possible a boat left before you searched the others?”
“It’s possible,” Lilja admitted. “But unlikely. The merchant and fishing community are a tight-knit group. If there had been an unfamiliar ship among them, they would have alerted me.”
“Are you so sure they would?” Jeren needled.
The captain’s magenta eyes flashed as she speared the pompous duke with a look. “I’m not someone to be trifled with. I assure you, they know the consequences of lying.”
The door opened, and Sam strode inside, his expression severe. “I have something you need to hear.”
“What is it?”
His brother stared at the table of councilors. “I have a lead on Sage.”
The air seemed to disappear from the room. He held his brother’s blue gaze, hanging on his words. “Please,” he whispered. “Please tell me she’s alive.”
“She’s alive.”
Something inside him loosened.
“But it would be better if she were dead.”
Tehl’s blood turned to ice. For his brother to say that, it had to be very bad.
Lilja glanced at him and then to Sam. “Where is she?”
“Scythia.”
There was a collective gasp and then shouting erupted. Tehl’s vision tunneled and a dull ringing filled his ears, canceling out the noise erupting around him. Scythia. Anyone who crossed the Scythian border never came back.
“Tehl…”
Sage was gone. As good as dead. How would he tell her parents? He’d failed her. Gwen was right. That monster had taken her from under his roof. He was guilty.
“Tehl!”
He blinked, and Zachael’s face swam into view. “Yes?”
“Are you all right?” the combat master prodded, concern on his face.
Tehl glanced at the chaos and back to the combat master. “I killed her, Zachael,” he rasped.
Zachael’s shoulders drooped for a moment, but then he straightened, looking Tehl in the eye. “You did not. Sage is stronger than anyone I’ve met. No one is infallible, but if anyone could survive Scythia, it would be her, my lord.”
Heat built behind his eyes, and, for the first time since his mum died, he shed a tear. He rubbed his eyes and stared blearily at the arm of his chair, giving himself a moment to recompose. “You’re right,” he said gruffly. “She has too much fire to die.”
A chuckle rumbled out of the older man. “That she does. She’s spunky, that one.”
Tehl swiped at his eyes again and tucked away his emotions as the volume of his council rose. Being a leader came with responsibilities and obligations. His feelings would have to wait.
Turning to the table, he bellowed, “Silence!”
The group quieted and twisted to look at him as he addressed them. “Where did you come by this information?”
Sam rubbed his neck and began his story. “I received news of another Scythian kidnapping in a town along the Mort Wall. A young woman named Jasmine was apparently taken captive as well.”
He frowned. That name sounded familiar. “The
same young woman we met some months ago?”
Sam blew out a breath. “Yes, the same. It seems she was out with her niece and a young boy from the village. She was teaching him how to use a bow in the forest, but they never came home. The village created a search party and stumbled upon the boy and the little girl.”
Tehl’s stomach clenched, knowing what came next.
“The little boy explained that while they were out hunting, a stranger carrying a woman with brown hair interrupted their practice. The young woman, Jasmine, knew something wasn’t right and hid the children and herself.” His brother sucked in another fortifying breath. “Apparently…Sage tried to get away, but the man got on top of her, pulling at her clothes.”
Lilja hissed and pushed away from the table to pace.
Sam eyed the captain. “It seems that Jasmine decided to take action so she had the children promise to stay hidden. She’d almost reached the man when the little boy noticed more men appearing in the surrounding forest. She never saw them coming.” His brother’s hands clenched. “They hurt the women and then carried them over the wall. The boy kept the little girl quiet, and they stayed hidden in the tree hollow for some hours before they were found.”
“Rhys is Scythian?” Rafe rumbled.
The tone of his voice had everyone sitting up straight. Tehl’s eyes slashed to the rebellion leader who was still trembling in his seat.
Sam watched Rafe before answering. “From what the little boy observed, the other men were Scythian and very friendly with Rhys.”
“That son of a whore!” Hayjen shouted. Everyone glanced at the normally level headed man in shock. He looked to his wife. “Lilja?”
“I know,” she growled. “We have to get her out of there.”
Slowly, Rafe stood from his chair, his amber eyes locked on the captain. “What are you not telling us, Lilja?”
Hayjen held his hand out to his wife. “It’s time, my love. This is what we’ve been waiting for.”
The exotic woman stared at his hand, before striding to her husband’s side. She cleared all emotion from her face. “I can only guess why they took Sage, but I can tell you of my own experience.” She turned and met Tehl’s gaze. “There was a time when I believed Scythia could be changed for the better. I wanted to make a difference. I was convinced that there was no way an entire people could be evil. It’d been hundreds of years since the war. Something had to have changed.” She shook her head. “I was wrong on many accounts and right on just one. At first, I was welcomed with excitement and affection. I mistakenly thought it was because they’d left their twisted ideals behind.” She chuckled bitterly. “They lulled me into a false sense of security, then sprang their trap. They wanted me, but not in the way I thought. Their excitement and affection were for what my body held. The key.”
