“Neat trick, that.”
“Fire comes easily to me, almost too easily, but it can be very hard to control.”
“I saw some of that the other day.” Marcus reached for her, but she turned away from him and helped finish setting up the camp and caring for Bastion and Rocky.
The rejection felt like a horse kicking him in the chest. He didn’t understand what he had done to hurt her, or why she was so angry with him. He had done everything right, everything he was supposed to do.
Marcus also didn’t understand why it mattered so much to him.
The silence stretched between them as it had the last few nights, making the campsite that much colder. Lucky curled up beside Brelynn as she stared into the flames, and her dog whined until she petted his head.
Marcus wanted her to tease him, to tell him stories, anything to see her smile and hear her laugh. Instead, she huddled in her cloak and shivered. Whatever was wrong was darkening her spirit and giving the necromancer’s spell a foothold.
Marcus sucked in a breath and touched her shoulder. “Did I do something, say something to upset you?”
She refused to meet his gaze. “That village… A lot of dark magic there. Shouldn’t be that much necromancy in all of Tamryn, much less one village.”
“I agree with you, but it’s more than that. You haven’t spoken more than a few words since that ball game with the priest and his family.”
She shrugged. “Just not much to say, I guess.”
Marcus sat beside her, his holy light chasing away the last wisps of the dark spell that still clung to her. “Talk to me, Brelynn. I can’t help when I don’t understand.”
Taking one of her hands, he tilted his head as he regarded her.
She swallowed hard, but she met his gaze. “There’s nothing to understand. You’re the perfect Knight of Valor, and you’ve done everything you promised. You’re my protector, and you’ve kept me alive. You even saved my dog.”
Protector. The word echoed through his brain and realization dawned. “About the other night in the church,” he said, his cheeks reddening.
“Let’s not talk about it.”
“But-”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Brelynn-”
“Knights don’t lie,” she said.
“And we also don’t do something if it’s not the right thing. Our wants come second to our vows.”
She stared out into the darkness, stretched, and rubbed her legs. “I wish I were a better horsewoman. It would make this trip faster and easier.”
He squeezed her hand and waited for her to look at him. “I don’t take the easy route. I take the right one.”
Marcus wrapped his other hand over top of hers, and his brows furrowed. He’d done what he had to do, what his vows demanded he do. It hadn’t been easy, but the right thing seldom was. Sticking to his beliefs was supposed to protect her, not hurt her.
He searched for the words to explain so he could make things right between them.
But words failed him.
He thought again of Gmina and Raymond.
But Brelynn’s reaction to the dark magic in Three Rivers said she was nothing like Gmina. And if Brelynn wanted him dead, she’d have helped Ducard and his mercenaries.
Of course it was possible for her to dislike him and not be evil, but there was more to her reaction than simple dislike.
Even after years of studying the holy scriptures and fighting undead abominations, he was unprepared for whatever it was he felt for Brelynn.
His chest squeezed, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t know the right path forward.
Chapter 23
Brelynn glanced up at Sir Marcus as he tried to soothe her and remembered him playing with the priest’s sons. It was hard to still see him as the sanctimonious pufferfish he’d been in Eskara, although he was that, too.
She tried to ignore his strong fingers on hers, the warmth that radiated from him, and the intensity of his pale eyes.
Tried not to notice how fresh he smelled, how clean and masculine.
She wanted to focus on something else, anything else, even how cold and damp the ground was. So much easier to ignore the unwanted feelings flowing through her when he didn’t overwhelm her senses.
Her chest constricted, and her magic flared.
She wanted to view him as she had in Eskara. To see him as a means to an end.
His king had tasked him with getting her safely to Aerius, and he was doing just that. Just because he didn’t share her feelings, didn’t find her attractive enough to-
She silenced the thought.
His response to her was as it was supposed to be, and she shouldn’t be angry with him for doing what a Knight of Valor was supposed to do. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, and she hoped Sir Marcus didn’t understand why his rejection had upset her.
He wanted her to be all right. After everything they’d seen, everything that lay ahead, she was foolish to turn away the warmth of friendship. Her heart may be stupid, but she wasn’t.
She squeezed his hand. “I’m okay.”
He let out his breath and gave her a lopsided grin. “You mean it this time.”
“Yeah, I do.”
He leaned in as if he was going to kiss her, then stopped as if he’d thought better of it. Instead, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Too bad we didn’t find an inn. Might not have featherbeds or chocolate, but you’d like it better than the ground.”
“I’m not in Oskelez, and I still have my soul. I’m not complaining.”
Sir Marcus raised his eyebrows.
“Not much, anyway.”
He grinned, and her heart swelled, her magic growing along with the surge of emotion. Between her feelings for him and her reaction to the village, her magic was ballooning.
She needed to dump the excess.
Brelynn fingered one of the gold rings in her pocket but decided to save them for when she really needed them.
“Your magic is warmer now,” Sir Marcus said.
He was right. Interesting that he could sense magic even if it didn’t affect him. “A lot of dark magic left in that town. It’ll corrupt the surrounding area if left unchecked.”
“I’ll purify that village and free the souls,” Sir Marcus promised.
“I know you will. In the meantime, I’ll try to make the campsite more hospitable.”
Marcus poked at the muddy ground. “Worth a try. I’m accustomed to sleeping in awful places, but I still prefer a feather mattress.”
She grinned at his admission, and her magic swelled again. She had to do something before she lost control.
Focusing on their bedrolls, Brelynn drew on her power. She balled her fist then opened it, and water flowed off their gear and away from the fire.
Her magic flooded her and snapped against her control, wanting to escape and do more, so much more than the small spell.
Her power was growing.
The farther they got from Oskelez, the more magic she had at her command.
She was almost certain Mokkar Calmont had been draining her magic through her blood. While the vampire lord had shown some magical inclination, there had been no other sorcerers in Calmont’s household. Perhaps he wasn’t aware he weakened her as much as he did when he fed on her.
But his master would have known.
So there had to be reason Arch-Grimveldt Korvar wanted her magic weak. And had wanted her magic weak all of her life.
That terrified her.
Marcus touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She realized she’d been trembling. Brelynn met his pale purple gaze as the warmth of his hand sank into her. “Worried about my master finding me.”
“Former master, and if he does, I will end him.”
She believed the Knight.
Sir Marcus laid their bedrolls out side by side. “Let’s get some rest. It’s been a long day.”
Brelynn curled up on her bedroll, and
Lucky sat down at her feet. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Brelynn, I…”
She glanced up at him, and her chest tightened. It was strange to see a man that had killed four powerful vampires and some of Oskelez’s finest mercenaries blush.
He slipped an arm around her and eased her against him. “A necromancer’s spell will have to get through me to get to you.”
She laid her head back down, already feeling safer. She liked having him close. That was the problem, but one she’d deal with another time.
Chapter 24
The fire had burned low and darkness blanketed the sky when Lucky’s low growl woke them.
Marcus jumped to his feet, and his armor shimmered into place. He gripped his sword and shield as he dropped into a battle stance.
The rush of combat filled him along with a steely resolve.
He would see Brelynn safely to Aerius, and he’d destroy anything that Calmont or Korvar sent to stop him. This time, everyone would make it home.
Screams, women crying, and children wailing filled the night, but he saw nothing. The magic that fueled them was weak, too weak to be a threat.
Yet.
After several minutes, the sounds faded into the wind.
Lucky calmed down and curled back up at Brelynn’s feet.
“Was that…” Brelynn bit her lip and hugged her dog.
“Residue from a violent death and a necromancer’s spell.” Marcus sheathed his sword. “I’ve seen it before. I’ll purify the town and put the spirits to rest.”
“You can do that?”
“Done it a lot. Never thought I’d have to do it in Tamryn lands.” He sucked in a breath as he gripped his sword. That one person could do such horrible things to another, much less so many others…
Now that evil, that rot, had spread to his home after he had fought so hard to exterminate it from the eastern provinces. After so many people and given up so much… White light cascaded across him as he channeled Dracor’s holy justice.
“I’m sorry.” Brelynn wrapped her hands around his.
“You didn’t murder that village.”
“I’m still sorry it happened.”
Marcus tightened his fingers around hers, and the sincerity of her words quieted his anger.
Maybe he did need to retire. Righteous outrage at the villager’s death filled him, as did the need to bring them vengeance, but little else.
His quest to kill the lich had consumed his softer emotions as the lich’s generals had burned villages and everyone in them rather than allow the Tamarian forces to liberate them.
He’d buried children that weighed less than his shield after years of being vampire chattel. Watched people die from starvation because necromancers refused to feed them despite silos of grain. Seen the remnants of towns ravaged by ghouls, wendigos, and other abominations.
This wasn’t the first time the screams of the innocent a necromancer had slain to boost his power had haunted him.
Especially when that necromancer learned Sir Marcus Valerian was coming for him.
Squeezing his eyes closed, Marcus quieted the memories.
He’d freed thousands.
He’d slain vampires, necromancers, and the lich.
Many had died along the way, including men he’d called friends, but that was the price to spread the gods’ light.
The price to push back darkness, destroy evil, and free the innocent.
The price to breathe life back into dead and withered lands.
But it had been too much for one man to feel every death, even a man blessed as he was by Dracor.
Grieving the loss of a friend was difficult enough, but to comprehend the death of an entire village? To realize the armies of zombies he’d fought through had all once been people with families and friends? To see vultures feasting on fields of dead the lich’s men hadn’t bothered to give even a mass burial?
To feel all of that would’ve broken any man.
And so he’d stopped.
Maybe the Dragon Council worried his emotional anesthesia would lead him down a dark path.
It was a valid fear.
It was easier to forget your vows when you followed them out of duty rather than love. Easier to justify slaughtering a village to save two others when you no longer felt an individual death.
When you were numb to emotions.
Because you couldn’t let yourself feel without courting madness.
An unnaturally cold breeze washed over them, and Brelynn scooted closer to him.
“It can’t hurt you.” Marcus slid an arm around her, enjoying the warmth of her beside him and the faint scent of fresh lilacs that clung to her.
“Not yet, anyway,” she said.
“I won’t let it get to that.”
“Still scares me.” She shivered and laid her head against him.
Emotion jolted him as he held her close, and Marcus reminded himself for the thirty-second time that he was her protector. He would not take advantage of her.
But by the gods, how he wanted to give her everything she’d asked. How easy it would be to justify it as a way of preventing her from being a sacrifice.
But his faith was too strong for that.
And she deserved better. Much better. He would see she got it.
Brelynn closed her eyes. “The dead should be allowed to rest.”
Marcus nodded his agreement and stroked her hair to comfort her. She was warm and soft against him, an intoxicating mixture of strength and innocence.
Yes, he realized, he could still feel things, they just weren’t Knightly things.
Whatever his thoughts, his actions were under his control, and he would treat Brelynn with the respect she deserved.
Keeping his arm around her, they watched and listened, waiting for the restless spirits to return.
After a long time of silence, Marcus lay back on his bedroll. “We should try to sleep.”
Brelynn nodded and lay beside him as she stared up at the branches of the Dragon Oaks. “Tell me about Prince Dylon.”
She couldn’t sleep, and he understood. He’d learned to sleep when he had the opportunity out of necessity. “I know little about him. He’s not yet seen five summers, and King Eli says he has a lot of magic he can’t control.”
“And your king is just now seeking help for his son?”
“He tried the elves, but they couldn’t help the prince.”
“Elves don’t deal in sorcery.” Brelynn rolled on her side to face him. “Something must’ve happened for the king to resort to me.”
“He burned his mother, Queen Auburn,” Marcus said. “King Eli loves his wife very much.”
Brelynn winced. “Prince Dylon probably loves her, too, but he can’t control it. Becomes a vicious cycle. He loves her, misses her, and wants to be with her, but he’s scared he’ll lose control. All those emotions amplify the magic, making it that much harder to control.”
“Then I’m glad you can help him. No one deserves that.”
“If I can’t help him-”
“You will.”
“That will depend on him.” Brelynn stared at the branches overhead. “He must want to control it and be willing to work hard enough to do it.”
While Marcus knew little about the prince, he knew enough about other members of the aristocracy. “And if he doesn’t?”
“Sorcerers aren’t immune to their own magic, and children can and do kill themselves with their own spells. I’m surprised he’s survived this long without training. He must have a strong will to have controlled the magic as much as he has.”
“He is a Dracasan. They have will to spare.”
“Something you know a little about if you went after a lich.” Her breath hitched. “What if-”
“You’ll convince him to let you train him.” Marcus squeezed her hand. “Tamryn needs you, and you’re not the kind of person who will let us down.”
“Even if I’m Oskelesian?”
He rub
bed his thumb over her knuckles. “Even so.”
A smile curved her lips, and she snuggled closer to him as she closed her eyes.
Her breathing eased into the steady rhythm of sleep, and Sir Marcus tucked her close to him. He then prayed to Dracor for strength so he would be the protector she needed, the protector she deserved, in both thought and deed.
The Dragon God didn’t answer.
Chapter 25
The haunting cries of the spirits came several more times before dawn, each time chilling Brelynn to the bone and reminding her of the fate she was trying to escape.
Sir Marcus kept her close, his arms around her as she bit her lip and closed her eyes. Fear clouded rational thought, and her heart took advantage of it, thrilling at him strong and protective beside her.
She let it.
She’d have plenty of time to fight that battle with herself after they’d cleansed Three Rivers.
The sun finally breached the horizon, and the spirits quieted. Sir Marcus packed up their camp, then helped her onto Rocky. He mounted Bastion and turned his horse northward, away from the burned village.
“We’re going back,” Brelynn said.
“I have to get you to Aerius. King Eli isn’t a patient man.”
“We’re going back and setting those souls free. You can purify the dark magic. You said so yourself.”
“I can, and I will. After I see you safely to Aerius.”
“This is Tamryn, the land of justice and the light of the Dragon God. Your king can wait for you to free the souls of his people.”
Sir Marcus gritted his teeth. “I said I will come back and perform the ritual, and I will. A Knight keeps his word.”
“I’ve done a lot of bad things, but I won’t leave her.” Brelynn crossed her arms over her chest. “All she wants is to go to her children. A necromancer stole their lives from them, and she gave everything to protect her little ones. We have to reunite them.”
Marcus’s jaw flexed, but he turned Bastion south. Brelynn said nothing as she followed him back to the dead village.
Silence filled their ears as neither the call of a bird nor the whisper of the wind disturbed the necromancer’s spell.
Knight of Valor: Knights of Valor Page 10
