“But you said you’ve been in Calmont’s household since you were a child.”
“To guarantee a virgin, you’d need to plan that many years in advance.” Brelynn considered a moment, and her mouth dried as her voice dropped to a whisper. “Even by necromancer standards, Arch-Grimveldt Korvar’s not young. Maybe he needs a powerful sacrifice to extend his life. He’d go to a lot of effort for that.”
Sir Marcus rolled on his side and took her hand in his. “Korvar scares you. More than Calmont.”
“Death is one thing, being sacrificed by a necromancer…” She shivered again.
“I will not let that happen.” Sir Marcus thumbed over her knuckles. “I will get you to Aerius. I promise.”
Brelynn met his pale gaze. He’d defeated a lich, and he’d handled Vokkun Rebecca and Ducard. Maybe he could get her to Aerius, but if Arch-Grimveldt Korvar wanted her enough, not even the Aerius city walls and palace guards would stop the necromancer.
Sir Marcus could protect her, but once they reached Aerius, they would part ways.
Brelynn sucked in a breath as Marcus lay warm and strong beside her, her handsome protector who would shrug off her magic if it slipped. Her chest squeezed as unbidden thoughts crept through her brain.
The thoughts escaped, forming on her lips before she stopped them. “What if we reduced my value to Korvar? Made me not worth the trouble to bring back to Oskelez?”
Sir Marcus frowned. “How would we do that?”
Her breath tangled in her throat as she stared into his pale purple eyes. “He needs a virgin sacrifice. You could fix that for me.”
Chapter 20
Marcus closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He knew what she was asking, and he very much wanted to give it to her. The temptation to give her all she asked for and more nearly overwhelmed him.
But she deserved so much better.
He wanted her to be with someone she loved, someone she truly wanted rather than someone convenient.
While he cared about her far more than he should, he wasn’t in love with her. He wasn’t sure he was even capable of love after all he had seen in the eastern provinces. And she most certainly wasn’t in love with him.
He would be the protector she deserved.
After a moment of silence, Brelynn turned away from him. “It was a stupid idea, and I suppose that makes me sound like the succubus your church warned you about. Forget I said anything.”
Marcus cupped her chin and tipped her head so she looked up at him. He stroked his thumb over the curve of her cheek, her skin soft under his calloused hands. “You deserve better than that. You deserve someone you love, who loves you in return. I will protect you, and I will get you to Aerius so you can have that.”
Nodding, she closed her eyes and turned on her side, her back to him. “Good night, Sir Marcus.”
The way she turned from him stung, but it put him back in his place as her protector.
Brelynn was beautiful, intelligent, and had cried for a dog. That she was still capable of such compassion after all she’d witnessed in Oskelez said more about her than a Tamarian boy wanting to serve Dracor as his father and grandfather had.
But he’d done the right thing, the noble thing, even if it wasn’t the thing he’d wanted.
If he’d been anything but a Knight of Valor, he’d have regretted the choice.
The storm passed during the night, and the dawning sun broke through the remaining mists. Marcus was preparing the horses when the priest and his family arrived at the small temple. And they’d brought breakfast.
The smell of bacon had Brelynn helping the priest’s wife, Georgina, find a place to eat.
The air still carried the sharp scent of the storm, but the grass under the Dragon Oak was dry enough for their needs.
Brelynn cleared a spot, munching a biscuit with honey as she spread a thin rug.
While she helped Georgina unpack the rest of the picnic basket, Brelynn listened to the priest’s wife talk about crops, weather, and livestock. A few snippets of gossip escaped into the conversation, and Brelynn learned of a quick marriage and a baby that had come early.
Brelynn smiled. The small village of Bothwell was so different from Oskelez, and yet people were still people. At least Georgina didn’t worry about her lord selling her husband or her children. Nor did she have to consider what happened to her soul if a necromancer raised her from the dead after she died.
“You have kids?” Georgina asked.
“No, and I doubt I ever will.”
Georgina glanced sidelong at Sir Marcus. “I understand. Don’t want him running off, getting himself killed, and leaving you with little ones.”
Brelynn’s stomach churned as she remembered Sir Marcus’s words from the night before, but she didn’t correct the priest’s wife. Easier not to, and Brelynn wanted to chat with Georgina rather than explain why she was really with Sir Marcus.
Georgina motioned toward her two boys standing beside Sir Marcus. “Seems like yesterday I was swaddling them and changing their diapers.”
“Don’t let them hear you say that.”
Georgina chuckled. “Would embarrass them to no end. Especially in front of their hero. Still can’t believe we’re having breakfast with Sir Marcus Valerian.”
Brelynn ignored the tightness in her chest and the sinking in her stomach as she took another bite of her biscuit.
The priest snitched a biscuit, and his wife scolded him to wait for Sir Marcus. Brelynn grinned as she took another bite of hers.
So this was Tamryn. The real Tamryn. Not the one in stories told around Oskelesian hearths.
Maybe not Aerius, definitely not the royal family, but Tamryn. Normal people living out normal lives. Brelynn wasn’t sure she’d make a good farmer, but she liked Georgina and enjoyed listening to the other woman’s stories.
Brelynn hadn’t experienced that before. The servants in Mokkar Calmont’s household had feared her, and the vampires had ignored her.
She hoped things would be different in Aerius. That she’d be able to make friends in the royal household. That she’d be able to live a quiet, normal life.
Georgina called her boys to come eat, but they were too enamored with Sir Marcus, peppering him with questions and stroking his dragon-emblazoned shield.
Sir Marcus met Brelynn’s gaze, then glanced towards the rear of the church where he’d stacked Ducard and his men.
She called to the boys as she cupped a flame in her hand.
“Don’t touch it,” Brelynn warned. “It’s hot.”
Both boys sprinted over to her, their eyes wide, as she made the little flame into a tiny phoenix and lifted it into the air.
“You can do magic!” the boys said in unison.
“Know what’s even better than magic?”
“What?” the elder boy asked.
“The story about how Sir Marcus slew four vampires on our way to your village.” Four glittering black bats appeared above the children.
“Tell us the story, please!” the boys begged.
As Brelynn began the tale, Sir Marcus took the priest aside and explained what had happened the previous night. As Sir Marcus and the priest dealt with the bodies, Brelynn punctuated her story with magic to keep the boys’ attention focused on her.
Once Sir Marcus and the priest had dealt with the unpleasantness, they joined the group for breakfast and the end of the story. Sir Marcus shook his head as Brelynn conjured a magical puff of dust when he destroyed the last vampire in her tale.
Uninterested in breakfast, the boys reenacted the story, taking turns being the Great Lich Slayer.
“You forgot to mention Lucky,” Sir Marcus whispered as Brelynn sat down beside him.
“I didn’t forget.” She gobbled a fresh muffin and offered another to Lucky.
“This is how the truth gets distorted.”
“They don’t need the whole truth.” Brelynn helped herself to a slice of ham.
“Knights don’t lie.”
“Nothing I said was a lie. If you’re done eating, go play ball with them. Give them a story they’ll still be telling to their grandchildren.”
Sir Marcus winced. “We should get moving.”
“It’s worth leaving late.”
“We don’t have a ball.”
Brelynn snapped her fingers, and a ball appeared in Sir Marcus’s hands.
Out of excuses, the Knight said nothing as he popped the ball under his arm, boosted himself up, and walked over to the two boys.
They were ecstatic to play with Sir Marcus, and after a while, he relaxed and let himself enjoy the game.
Brelynn leaned back and watched, appreciating Sir Marcus’s deep laugh and easy smile.
He needed more playing with kids and less vampire slaying.
When he let it, the imposing façade of Lich Slayer slipped enough to make him approachable, even likable. He deserved a lot more ball games and a lot less trying to be the legend he thought he should be.
She bit her lip and stared at the dragon oak. He was just her protector, there to escort her to Aerius. If she let herself feel anything else, it would lead to heartache.
He’d made his feelings clear, and Knights didn’t lie.
Not that she blamed him. He was Tamryn’s hero and a Knight of Valor. She was an Oskelesian sorceress running from a vampire.
Her stomach tightened, and she fed her half-eaten slice of ham to Lucky. She needed to put emotional distance between her and Sir Marcus so she could think of him as nothing more than the tall, shiny, holier-than-thou pufferfish she’d met is Eskara.
As if sensing her thoughts and wanting to prove her wrong, Marcus jogged over and offered her his hand. “I’m outnumbered. Will you come help?”
Against her better judgment, she gripped his hand, and his strong sword-calloused fingers wrapped around hers.
Their eyes met, and she turned away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she joined the impromptu ball game and tried to keep her heart under control.
Sir Marcus frowned, but Brelynn didn’t give him time to speculate as she used her magic to steal the ball away from him and give it to one of the boys.
“Hey,” Sir Marcus laughed, “you’re supposed to be on my team.”
“You forgot to mention that.”
There was laughter and cheers as they all enjoyed the game, and the boys were sad when Sir Marcus had to leave.
“We must go,” he told the boys as he tossed them the ball. “Keep practicing. You never know when I’ll be back for a rematch.”
The boys grinned, their eyes shining as they held the ball and waved goodbye to the Hero of Tamryn, the proverbial knight in shining armor complete with his white charger.
“You were right,” Sir Marcus said as he turned in his saddle and waved to the priest and his family. “It was worth leaving a little later.”
Chapter 21
Brelynn rode beside Marcus in silence for the next two days, speaking only when necessary to make camp or see to the horses. She no longer teased him or asked him questions about Tamryn. She stopped telling him stories about Oskelez and asking him things about himself.
Marcus asked her questions to get her to talk to him, but she answered with a word or two and lapsed back into silence.
Brelynn was building a wall between them that hadn’t been there even back at the monastery.
He was better at slaying monsters than understanding her, and while he didn’t know why she was doing it, he missed the way things had been. He missed her.
The sun was dipping low in the sky on the third day when Brelynn broke the silence. “The signpost said there was a village around here. Three Rivers. Did we go the wrong way?”
“There’s no bird chatter and the insects are still. Been like that for a while.”
“You think…”
“I don’t think we’re being followed, but I can’t be sure.”
Brelynn swallowed and pulled her cloak tighter around herself. “Something’s waiting for us?”
“I took this route to make us difficult to follow and hard to ambush, but Calmont may get lucky. He’ll figure out which direction to search when neither Rebecca nor Ducard report in to him.”
Brelynn glanced at the sun, but they both knew not all of their enemies needed to avoid it.
As they continued to ride, something slippery and oily tugged at Brelynn. A whisper at first but growing, building a revulsion deep in her stomach and sending shards of cold through her.
Necromancy.
She recognized its dark stench and shifted in her saddle. What would a necromancer be doing this far into Tamryn lands?
Had Arch-Grimveldt Korvar himself come for her?
Her stomach tightened so much she almost lost her lunch.
Sucking in a steadying breath, she promised herself Arch-Grimveldt Korvar would never leave Oskelez. The only rank higher than an arch-grimveldt was a primarch, and each primarch sat on the Council of Seven.
Yes, he would send Mokkar Calmont. But Arch-Grimveldt Korvar would not get personally involved with retrieving a mere sacrifice, virgin or otherwise.
The thought offered little comfort, and fear wrapped like steel bands around Brelynn’s chest. She rode closer to Marcus.
They rounded a bend a little farther up the road, and Sir Marcus stopped as the skeleton of Three Rivers loomed in front of them. The occasional stone hearth marked where a home had been among the ruined husks of buildings, and the stench of death magic mingled with charred wood.
Brelynn shivered, and Sir Marcus positioned himself between her and the dead town.
Lucky raised his hackles, and he growled deep in his throat as he stayed close to her.
“It’s like we’re walking over someone’s grave.”
“Dark magic,” Sir Marcus said. “The exceptionally bad kind.”
“How far are we from Oskelez?”
“It’s part of Tamryn, and it’s protected by the Crown and the Knights of Valor.”
“So far enough.” She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, but it did nothing to lessen the cold. She huddled closer to her horse. “I said I wanted to spend the night at Three Rivers’ inn, but I lied. I want to spend the night somewhere else, somewhere far away.”
“We will.” Marcus dismounted and searched the area.
The large dragon oak in the center of town was dead, twisted, and blackened. Burned debris buried charred skeletons, and it appeared as if most of the residents had died in their homes.
Many skeletons still wore rings or necklaces, and coins were scattered among the debris. Whatever had happened here, bandits hadn’t been behind it. And no one had looted it.
Marcus clenched his fists at his sides, and a whisper of holy magic illuminated him. He left white footprints among the charred remains as he searched for clues, but the fire had happened some time ago. Wind and rain had taken their toll.
Brelynn dismounted, shivering as the necromancy clawed at her magic. “You can hear them.”
So many of them. Their cries of anguish almost deafening.
“Get back on your horse and don’t listen.”
Lucky whined and rubbed against Brelynn’s leg.
“How can you not hear them?” She crouched beside an adult skeleton that clutched two small ones. Tears burned Brelynn’s eyes as she reached toward them then drew back her hand.
“Brelynn,” Sir Marcus said.
“She loved them. She would’ve done anything for them, given the dark man whatever he wanted to save them. But there was nothing she could do, so she lied to them. Told them everything would be all right.”
Sir Marcus touched her shoulder, a spot of warmth in the cold that whispered around her.
Her breath puffed around her as tears froze on her cheeks. “How she misses them even though she’s glad they’re not here. Glad their souls escaped.”
“Escaped?” Sir Marcus glanced at the skeletons.
“They walked with Mor to the other side while the dark man trap
ped her soul here with the other villagers. She loved them so much. The necromancer’s spell couldn’t break through that love to bind her children’s souls.” Tears streamed down Brelynn’s face. “She wants to go to them so much. To see them again. To hold them…”
Sir Marcus tightened his hand on her shoulder, and heat flooded into her. “Let her go.”
“She can’t, she’s trapped and in pain. So much pain.”
Marcus yanked Brelynn to her feet and wrapped his arms around her.
His warmth encircled her, and the holy light brushed across her and chased away the dark magic. She could still hear the spirits, but now they were a distant buzz.
“We have to help them.” Brelynn didn’t bother trying to hide her tears as they dampened his armor. “And when we bury her, we have to bury her children with her.”
“I will, but not now. Darkness is coming, and we must get to a safe place. We don’t want Calmont to catch us here if he’s following us.”
Brelynn swallowed back her tears and held on to Marcus as he led her to their horses. He lifted her onto Rocky’s back, mounted his own horse, then guided her out of Three Rivers.
Brelynn glanced back toward the burned village every few minutes as they rode north, tears still wetting her cheeks.
Chapter 22
Brelynn’s magic brushed against Marcus, and it had grown colder, darker since Three Rivers. Still, that he sensed it so strongly meant she needed to rest soon.
But they also needed distance from the necromantic spell.
Getting them as far as he could from the burned village, Marcus stopped at a thicket of Dragon Oaks just as the sun was brushing against the horizon. A less than ideal campsite, but it would do. He settled the horses and gathered wood for a small fire while Brelynn laid out the bedrolls.
“Wood’s still wet from the rain,” Marcus said. “Not sure I’ll be able to get a fire going.”
“Build it. I’ll take care of the rest.”
He did as she asked, and with a flick of her wrist, hungry flames engulfed the sticks.
Knight of Valor: Knights of Valor Page 9
