The War (Blood and Destiny #3)

by E. C. Jarvis

  “Bloody hell,” Cid muttered a second time.

  The door clicked shut and the temperature inside the small bedroom seemed to increase inexplicably. “Eptoran clothes do not suit you, Cid.”

  “Agreed. You, on the other hand, look…” He waved his hand at her, searching for the words, trying not to let his eyes linger on the way her cool blue dress left nothing of the curves beneath to the imagination. Beautiful? Too obvious. Lovely? Too pretentious.

  “Nice?” Elena suggested.

  “That’ll do.”

  “You know, I look forward to the day when you can talk to me as naturally as you talk to Larissa. The only time you speak at ease is when you’re talking about anything mechanical.”

  “Hmm.”

  She stepped forward and gripped his hand—a hand already greasy with sweat despite only washing a few minutes ago.

  “Elena,” he said bending down to whisper in her ear, “I don’t think we have time to do…amorous…things.”

  Her lips curled into a smile and she dropped his hand, leaving behind something in his palm. Upon looking, he found a silvery-white stone, the sight of which filled him with terror. It was like meeting an old enemy.

  “Anthonium?” he asked, though he really didn’t need any confirmation.

  “I thought you might need it. I’ve arranged for one of the engines from the other prototype airplanes to be added to your airship. I’m sure you can get it working and manage to replicate the same adjustment to the new ship. It might help you to catch up with them.”

  “And the Empress authorised this?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Cid. Of course she didn’t.”

  “I don’t think I should take it, in that case.” He took hold of her hand and placed the lump of stone in it. “We’ve been enough trouble to you and your country already. I don’t want to read some rumour in the Daltonian Daily papers that the Empress of Eptora has thrown her own kin in the dungeons. I couldn’t live with myself to think of it.”

  “And this is why I’m here. It is rare for a man to be so utterly charming without him even knowing it.” She shoved the Anthonium back in his palm.

  “Elena, this is too risky. You are handing over a precious element and important technology—why should you trust us so implicitly with these things?”

  “I trust you implicitly. What will it take for you to see that? Besides, an engine and a lump of Anthonium are already flying out of the country and we are virtually powerless to stop it. I’m sure my sister will order the coastal armies to be on alert and bring that ship down on sight, but Covelle knows this land too well. He knows our strengths and our weaknesses. Our armies are equipped to patrol the borders for enemies coming into the country, not for getting out. He will likely slip past without ever being seen.”

  As she finished with a sigh, her features softened, a look Cid now knew to only appear when there weren’t other Eptorans around to see it. She was well schooled in maintaining the façade of a Princess. He was starting to wonder if that relaxed expression only appeared in his presence. An uncharacteristic need to have the thousands of questions seemingly bubbling beneath the surface answered in one response seemed to manifest itself into movement. His arm lifted up to her face, calloused fingertips settled lightly on her smooth jaw. Her skin felt warm to the touch, like everything else in Eptora, the heat penetrating through to his hand. Though unlike the natural unpleasant Eptoran heat, this particular warmth was welcome.

  “You are very beautiful,” he said, finally and triumphantly managing to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He studied her response—pupils dilated, lips parted and curled up, eyelids drooped. She was either about to sneeze or…

  The kiss came heavy and firm on his lips. Different from the last few times they’d kissed, this was needy and passionate and he couldn’t help but reciprocate. He bent forwards, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and she returned the gesture, locking hers around his waist. Their bodies pressed together in such a way that he felt a stirring below, but for once he didn’t try to hide it. As her hand snaked around his waist and down the top of his trousers, all the while their kiss maintained. It occurred to him that a good number of years had passed since he’d last been romantic with a woman. As he tried to simultaneously count the years and think of the appropriate course of action to follow after she’d curled her fingertips around his hot, hard penis…all sense of planning and organising dissolved from his mind. The bed became his entire focus as he scooped her up and headed towards it.

  Just as he popped her rear end on the bouncy mattress, their passionate embrace was interrupted by a loud thump on the door, followed by a male shouting in Eptoran. Elena broke the kiss and called something back, not quite managing to hide the breathless tone in her voice.

  “Tell me he was just asking what you’d like for dinner,” Cid grumbled, unwittingly dropping his forehead into her bosom.

  “I wish that were true. It is time for you to go.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  “Promise me,” she lifted his head, her hands planted firmly on his cheeks, her cold, hard expression returned in an instant, “when all this is over, you will come back for me.”

  Something ached inside his chest. His heart physically hurt with every beat. Gods, why couldn’t Larissa just bugger off with the others and leave him here? He could be happy here with Elena. For the first time in his miserable existence, he wanted something more than just a well-stocked workshop and peace and quiet. He wouldn’t mind this sort of interruption from his work from her, perhaps on a daily basis, perhaps even several times a day. Never before would he have imagined himself being so easily overcome, and over an Eptoran Princess, no less. Trust him to go about things in the most awkward manner possible.

  “You have my word,” he said, bending forward, pressing her back into the bed, intending to kiss her mouth but instead finding his head between her breasts. He threw caution to protocol and nudged the silk of her dress to one side with his nose, chancing a delicate kiss on the perfectly pointed, dark brown nipple he found underneath. He felt the tips of her fingers dig into his forearms and took note of her sharp intake of breath in reaction. He wanted to hear that again, to know that she felt just as aroused, no matter how inexplicably, by him as he was by her. He bent forward again, nudging the other side of her dress open, treating the other nipple to the same effect, only this time, not so delicately. Her breathy gasp sent him into a dizzying spiral that would have had him unbuttoning his trousers faster than a Dolanite Priest grabbing a donation of gold, except the thumping on the door resumed, followed by the same rather irate-sounding male voice.

  “Fuck sake.” Cid stood, feeling slightly lightheaded and extremely annoyed. Elena covered her breasts and stood beside him, taking hold of his hand.

  “If you don’t come back, I will come find you and make sure you finish this encounter,” she said.

  “If I don’t come back, I’ll finish it myself.” As soon as the words came out, his heart sank. It seemed his ability to speak in a coherent and non-idiot manner dissolved as quickly as their heated moment of passion. For her part, Elena let out a small, girlish giggle, then forcibly scrunched her face back into a steely expression before opening the door.

  Outside, they found a broad-shouldered guard, who gave Cid the most impressive angry scowl he’d ever seen, and behind the large bulk of a man stood Kerrigan, Holt, and Larissa.

  Cid noticed Larissa’s gaze dip downwards for a moment, a rather shocked expression ghosting across her eyes, followed by her cheeks lighting up a shade of hot pink. His first thought was that she found his new attire to look as ridiculous as he thought it looked. As he moved forwards, the most likely cause of her blush became apparent as the fullness of his passion chafed against the ill-fitting trousers.

  “We’ve been told we have to leave now. Sorry, Cid,” Larissa said with a sympathetic shrug.

  “Fine, yes. Lead on.”

  He and Elena followed
the others down the corridor, her long fingers wrapped tightly in his hand. It was as if she’d claimed him, and he didn’t mind it at all, felt quite glad to be claimed, in fact. No amount of scowling guards and soldiers could stop his heart from pounding at the notion. He even tripped over his own feet as he thought of asking her to marry him. The notion that all these burly men would have to bow down to him as an Eptoran Prince making him giddy, but not more so than the thought of calling her his wife. It wasn’t until they reached a break in the corridor and headed down some steps towards the courtyard where their airship was filled and waiting that the reality of the situation hit him.

  Furthermore, as Elena dropped his hand and marched forward to lead the group outside, his heart was physically and painfully jolted away from the lofty dream. Everything they’d faced so far seemed like a gentle stroll through a garden in comparison to the challenges ahead. At the least he wasn’t looking forward to flying all the way back across the ocean with a crew of only four people, possibly even less if the pale and greasy appearance of Holt’s skin was any indication of his state of health.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped outside and saw what awaited them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Larissa squinted as the setting sun stung her eyes. The airship that was to be their home for the next few weeks on the journey to Daltonia seemed tiny in the enormous courtyard. She didn’t like the thought of sharing such a cramped space with three men who hated each other, but when compared to the numerous other awful conclusions that could have surfaced, she tried her best to be grateful. They were alive and likely to remain that way for a while at least.

  What she hadn’t expected to see was an entire Eptoran battalion of soldiers both inside the courtyard and lining the walls and parapets. If the military presence had seemed significant on their arrival, it looked as though the entire army had been called in for their departure. It made sense, she supposed, since her father had actually managed to escape one of the most inescapable situations. A dry line of humour tickled at the back of her mind—she’d probably gained her knack for escaping life-threatening situations from him. She shook her head slightly, shaking away the thought, and glanced at Holt. He stood tall and proud. To anyone else, he might look utterly indifferent, the model of a Daltonian Captain, or ex-Captain, in his newly acquired dark blue clothes which fitted him well. She knew differently—the greasy gloss on his skin, eyes sunken into their sockets, the dullness in his dark pupils.

  He gave her a sideways look, and in that small expression which lasted no more than a heartbeat, she could read him completely. The look that said, I’m fine, be strong, focus on your surroundings, focus on the mission. She could almost hear the words in his voice inside her head. He was right, of course, as ever. They would have time to talk in depth during the journey. She turned back to see the Empress heading towards them, and behind her followed two familiar-looking men.

  “I believe these are yours,” she said as she approached Larissa.

  Larissa bit back a screech of delight at seeing Friar Narry and Zeb, not least because she was glad they were alive. More than that, she knew that more hands would help them get home faster, and Narry had provided untold help before.

  “Yes,” Larissa said, “they are mine.” A laugh escaped her lips as she made the ostentatious declaration. They were people, not possessions. Friar Narry and Zeb didn’t seem to mind her claiming them, not one little bit. The poor Friar was positively thin in comparison to the portly man she’d left behind a couple weeks ago, and he wore something akin to a grass skirt and floral print shirt. Zeb looked equally out of place, though he still looked exactly like a Daltonian pirate. The only place he would be suited to was a pirate ship.

  “They were found in a town near the Blue Mountains trying to spread your religion to the townsfolk.”

  “Oh, well…”

  “The punishment for such an act is usually something rather final. However, I’m willing to make an exception in this case if you’ll agree to take them with you.”

  “Gladly.”

  “Very well.” The Empress waved a hand in the perfectly articulate way of expressing exactly what she wanted her subjects to do without speaking a single word. A rope ladder was thrown over the side of their airship, and two soldiers climbed down.

  Larissa turned to her group and gave a nod. Kerrigan responded first, climbing up the ladder with grace, followed by Narry, who took an inordinate amount of time to climb aboard and needed Kerrigan to haul him over the edge. Zeb followed him up, leaving Holt and Cid.

  Holt gave Cid a flat look which Larissa managed oddly enough to read once again. He was going to go up last, or at least after Cid. Cid appeared pensive, staring up at the balloon canopy with cautious eyes. He should have been the first to climb up the ladder in a desperate rush to get back to the comforts of home. As he carefully turned his head to look at Elena, Larissa realised that his affections were clearly deeper than she’d first assumed.

  “Will there ever be a time when Daltonians are accepted in Eptora?” she asked aloud.

  “Perhaps one day,” the Empress replied. She too had noticed the look between Cid and her sister. “Perhaps you people can be the ones to make the change.”

  With that sudden change of heart and slight concession, Cid gave Elena a nod and climbed aboard. Holt followed without a word, leaving Larissa.

  “I’m not sure I can be everything everyone expects me to be. You’ve been trained your whole life to rule an Empire. I’m just a retail clerk with a knack for getting in and out of trouble.”

  “You’ll do fine. If I didn’t believe in you, you would not be leaving here alive. I have arranged for a fleet of airships to escort you to the coast and then you’re on your own.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now get out of my country and go fix yours.”

  “Yes, Empress.” Larissa stepped back and gave a bow. The Empress returned the courtesy with a nod. Imago shimmered into view at Larissa’s side, briefly reminding her of all the odd things that had happened since coming here and of how many times her little ghostly feline friend had saved her life. As he disappeared once more and the sun dipped on the horizon, she climbed up the ladder.

  The airship immediately rose into the sky with Zeb at the furnace, stoking coal to fuel the propellers, and Holt at the controls. As they rose above the parapets, the city came back into view, along with ten fully loaded Eptoran warships positioned in formation nearby.

  “Bloody hell,” Cid said as he stood just behind.

  “I concur,” Kerrigan agreed, running his fingertips through his hair.

  “I’ll bet you wish we had our Sky Force Fleet with us right now, don’t you, Colonel?” Cid said.

  “It would be preferable to this tiny tub, which I note has had the weapons removed.”

  Larissa pushed up on her tiptoes and glanced down the side. The ports where cannons would have once stuck out were closed shut. She sighed and rolled her eyes, annoyed at being sent off on such a perilous mission without any means of defending themselves, and equally annoyed at missing that key piece of information herself. Though it was no surprise, despite Holt’s best efforts, she really had no military training to speak of.

  She rubbed her bare arms, subconsciously feeling the chill of the cool Daltonian air they were sure to find once they’d travelled far enough west. The silky white dress the Empress had kindly donated to replace her tattered outfit was neither comfortable nor practical. It certainly held no promise of practicality for the dangerous road ahead.

  “We’re ill-equipped,” she said as they turned in the sky, looking enviously at the uniformed archers lining the palace walls and the uncountable number of cannons that the fleet of ships pointedly aimed at them. A shiver snaked down her spine at the thought. Once they had cleared the city, it would be simple for their escort to launch a handful of cannonballs straight at them—an efficient and easy kill. Her mind switched into overdrive, wonde
ring if her father had already been taken care of and if this was all some form of ruse. The only thing stopping her from voicing her worries was that it would be an overly elaborate form of execution. Why go to the trouble of letting them think they were escaping?

  “We could always shout loudly at the enemy,” Kerrigan said, an icy tone in his voice.

  “We’ll think of something. If we’re lucky, we won’t come across any enemies, at least not until we’re equipped to deal with them.”

  “Hmm.”

  Kerrigan wandered to the other side, his arms locked behind his rigidly stiff back. As he passed Holt, neither man looked at one another. Larissa sighed at the sight, wondering why they couldn’t just be civil to each other after everything they’d been through together. She supposed it was progress that they weren’t trying to strangle one another at least. Cid stood at the stern, watching the palace grow smaller behind them, and Larissa’s heart ached for him.

  After a tense journey, the city disappeared on the horizon, replaced by muddy track-covered plains stretching on for miles. Apart from the odd horse and cart or steam-powered vehicle running to or from the Capital, and of course the fleet of warships on their tail, they were alone.

  Larissa contemplated asking Narry, Kerrigan, or even Cid to take the controls from Holt so she could take him below for a much-needed talk, but just as she was trying to find the right words to say, Kerrigan appeared at her shoulder.

  “I will be assuming command of this mission from here on,” he said. His gaze fixed on a spot on the horizon.

  “You will?”

  “Militarily, I outrank everyone here. Even if Holt hadn’t been discharged from his commission as Captain.”

  “I don’t refute that. However, this is not a military operation, Colonel.” Cid appeared from the other side and came to join in the conversation. Holt’s attention moved from the horizon to Larissa and Kerrigan.

  “Those,” he pointed to the warships following them, “make it a military operation. Do you really think you’re strong enough, experienced enough, and intelligent enough to know what to do in the myriad of scenarios which may arise?”