by Jesse Teller
“What is it?”
“It is a love nullifier. It will steal away the love of anyone. The love they feel for you will be pulled away by this charm.”
“Why would I want that?” Jocelyn looked at her hand, holding it at arm’s length, wanting to throw it away but not knowing how to.
“You will change your mind,” Drelis said. “You do not have it in you to be faithful to him. Eventually, his love will become a burden. Soon after your marriage is final, you will want a way out of it. Not to mention the fact I see tragedy in your future. The Demontser whispers to me of a short life for you. To hear it fills me with grief, but it will not go away, no matter how I want it to.”
“Are you sure it breaks your heart and doesn’t warm it instead?” Jocelyn said.
At that, Drelis slipped into the blackest of the shadows.
“Wait, Drelis, that was not fair,” Jocelyn said. “I’m sorry.” But Jocelyn could feel nothing there in the dark. Drelis was gone. And with her leaving, Jocelyn was filled with a great emptiness.
“Are you okay, princess?”
She spun to see Steppen bathed in the light of the sun. She stepped out to stand before him, and felt the glare of the sun painful in her eyes.
“I am, Steppen.” She looked up, seeing pain in his eyes, and loss. The wolf that followed him everywhere was gone. His hair was disheveled. He grinned a tired expression, and she knew he had not been sleeping.
“What is wrong, Steppen? You look horrible.”
He said nothing, just reached out, took her hand and walked away with her.
They walked the busy streets and toward the party slowly. Steppen set a very slow pace and laughed a very sarcastic laugh.
“I guess you will not be my princess anymore, will you?” he said.
“I will always be your princess, Steppen, that will never change.”
“I was ten when you were born.” He shook his head and pulled out a flask of steel from his vest. He tipped it back until it was empty, then tossed it in a gutter. “I saw you not an hour after your birth. The Redfist holds all of the children of the seven great lines the day they are born. And Yenna carried you out of your father’s house and into the streets.” Steppen wiped his eyes and laughed a painful sound. She thought she would be sick.
“He carried you out and held you up above his head for all of us to see. He showed you to the four cardinal directions and laughed. He lowered you and we all walked past you in a line. That was when I knew I wanted to be War Pack.”
“Why, Steppen?”
“I wanted to protect you, the Fendis princess. My father decided I was to be a cooper. No sword for me. He did not want me walking out into combat and dying. But I defied him. Still to this day, our relationship is not the same.” Steppen laughed. “Only ten years old when I saw you that first time, yet it changed my life forever.”
She stopped him and looked into his eyes. They were filled with un-spilled tears, and he smiled a grisly smile.
“Do you love me, Steppen?” She did not want to know, but felt if she did not know she would die.
He wiped his eyes, gritted his teeth, shook his head and laughed. The sound cut her open. “No, Jocelyn, I don’t love you. And after today, I will not serve you. You are Ragoth in but a few scant hours. And my father is from the mountains. His father was killed by Ragoth. My uncle was killed by Ragoth. I will never serve a Redfist. I will never serve you.” He laughed, though it seemed to hurt him to do so.
She turned and walked away. He did not follow. Simply watched her go. She knew then she had been a fool and would never be at peace. If she had only asked, Steppen would have waited for her. He never married. Never wanted any woman but her. Jocelyn wiped the tears away frantically. She couldn’t cry on the day she married a Redfist. It was not possible. It was not right.
The food she was supposed to prepare for Flak at their wedding, she stole from the plates of others. She took a leg of chicken here and a bowl of greens. She made a few sauces so people would see her cooking something, and poured the sauce on the food to cover it. As she was working, she felt someone staring at her and looked up to see Ellen Stonefist.
She turned her gaze away immediately. She fought to steady her breath, but within a moment, Ellen had her by the arm and jerked her away. Jocelyn looked up to see Bounder’s head turn, but she shook her head and hoped he obeyed. Ellen dragged her through the crowd, other Ragoth women stepping in the way, covering Ellen.
Ellen slammed into a door and knocked it open. It was an abandoned building that once housed a blacksmith shop. Now it was a storage place for wood and ingots of steel. Ellen kicked the door closed behind her and tossed Jocelyn against a pile of wood.
“A Fendis bitch,” Ellen snapped. “The brightest star in the Ragoth sky for generations, and he is going to be married to a Fendis bitch.”
Jocelyn looked up at Ellen and panic rushed through her body. She knew she could not use her powers to shove this woman off. If she did, she would be found out, and that would not be good. Her people were hard on witches from the outland. They did not trust magic. They despised all who wielded it.
“I’m not a bitch. I’m a woman who loves a man and will be marrying him,” Jocelyn said. She tried to walk away, but Ellen would not allow it. She grabbed Jocelyn by the dress and threw her back. Jocelyn heard one of her stitches rip, and fear rose up in her.
“Love. Are you going to tell me you love Flak Redfist?”
“I do. I swear to it.”
“Do you know what I do very well?” Ellen said. “I do many things well. Care for my husband. Represent the family of Stonefist with dignity and pride. I am supportive to my king chief and the women and kids of my nation. I can make a list of impressive things I am good at, but do you know what I am truly gifted at? Spotting love.
“I can tell when a dog loves another dog. I can see adoration, because for so long, I wanted it. I wanted to be in love. So, I found a way to notice its signs. You are not in love, not with Flak. Maybe another man, that would not surprise me, but not Flak.”
The door burst open and a beautiful girl shoved her way in. She had brown hair feathered back on her head like a bird’s wing. She wore a stunning dress with a bodice decorated in feathers, and carried two long daggers on her hips. She was Rachel Beastscowl, and Jocelyn had been afraid of her all her life. Rachel grinned at Ellen.
“You got her,” Rachel said.
Jocelyn’s heart broke out in a run. She glanced at Rachel’s daggers.
“Please don’t kill me,” Jocelyn said.
“Please, little girl, I would not kill you.” Rachel was only a year older than Jocelyn, but Jocelyn felt like a little girl. And Rachel did not seem one. “I would not soil my daggers with your Fendis blood.”
“We are going to make sure you and Flak don’t work out. You will nullify the marriage within a year. That is a promise,” Ellen said. “You will abandon your post in Flak’s heart, and a proper Ragoth girl will take her place. You have a nation. Ours is not it.”
“I will not leave him. I am a girl of my word,” Jocelyn said. “I told Flak I was his wife years ago, and now I—”
“Can I hit her?” Rachel said, looking at the much older Ellen. The woman seemed to think about it for a long time before she shook her head.
“No, better not,” Ellen said, then turned to Jocelyn. “We are going to make your life miserable. And when you are ready to leave, I want you to call on me to help you pack.”
Ellen walked out of the shack.
Rachel nodded. “Don’t think I didn’t see what you did with Flak’s meal,” Rachel said. “But that is fine. That food you stole for your wedding meal was made by a Ragoth woman. I find it fitting.”
Rachel left and slammed the door behind her. Bounder stepped out of the shadows in the back of the room. He had to have found a way in. Jocelyn ran to him, threw her arms around him, and wept. Bounder placed a hand on her back and waited for her to gain herself again.
***
****
Her mother opened the door and the temple full of people went silent. Jocelyn looked at the front of the room, at the end of the aisle, to Flak standing there, waiting for her. Locke and Luther had been waiting with him during the feast. She did not know what they had been talking about, but they all loved her. She knew none of them had been speaking ill of her. She decided she would take some comfort from that.
As she walked to her groom, she looked at the faces of the people she was passing, and saw anger and apathy. She saw pain, and a smattering of happiness. Those smiling faces blurred past her, there for a moment before disappearing into nothing. But every Ragoth woman she passed snarled at her, and every man seemed bored at the sight of her. She fought back tears and kept walking. She would not let them break her. Not here. Not now.
She reached Flak and stood before him while her mother spoke, a speech prepared by her father. It spoke of greatness that would come from their union. Of the love she and Flak would have for each other, and it spoke of the peace their love would bring. She did not hear her name mentioned once. She did not hear any indication that any of her mother’s hopes had been placed on this union. She did not hear the love her mother held for her. She thought then of the tight grip her father had over her mother, and she looked at Flak, wondering if he would listen to her gentle nudges, if he would value her opinion. She wondered if he would love her.
Flak ate. He ate the meal prepared for him by other women, and he smiled. He told all there how much he loved the meat and the way the vegetables had been prepared. He talked about it all and its perfection, but never did he mention her sauces.
Yenna bound them and Flak kissed her. When the kiss ended, she thought she would be sick.
The party spilled out into the streets and Flak started drinking. He danced with her a few times, and with other women. Ragoth and Fendis alike. He even danced with a few Bloodblade women when that nation came to celebrate. He danced, others danced, and she made her way to Steppen.
He was deep in his cups, his face sweating, his eyes bloodshot and wet. He looked up at her with sadness in his eyes, and smiled. “Will be a good husband to you. Will treat you right. You’re gonna be happy with the Ragoth. They will cherish you.” He seemed to want to say more, but he didn’t. Or couldn’t.
“Will you dance with me?” she asked.
He stared, love and regret in his eyes, and finally nodded solemnly. “I will.”
They danced in silence for a long time before she spoke. “I had a dream the other night,” she said. “Would you like to hear it?”
“Your dream,” he said. He closed his eyes and looked at the sky. “Is it the kind of dream you have always told me about? The kind given to you by your goddess?”
“It is.”
“Then I had better hear it.”
She nodded and felt it again, all the pain, the fear, the darkness. She thought of her brother Luther and things she had seen in his future. She knew alone he would not survive it. Bloodblades would steal her brother’s life and his soul, and she had to try to do something about it. If Luther had men with him, if he could take a force with him, then he might make it out of the nightmare looming before him.
“You’re going to rise to leader of the War Pack soon,” she said. “Your commander will step away. He is getting tired, and he wants the mantle lifted from him. You must be ready to assume his title.”
“I don’t want War Pack leader. I am a simple soldier.”
“You must take it,” she said. “You must assume the power, and you must take my brother Luther as your apprentice. Name him your successor and train him to replace you when the time comes.”
Steppen thought about this for a long time before he nodded. “Why?”
“He is in trouble. The only thing I can think of to do about it is give him the War Pack. As their leader, he might be able to step out of the darkness. Alone, he cannot.”
“Can you warn him so he might prepare for it?”
“No, he would not believe me, and not many can know of my powers,” she said. “I cannot tell him.”
“You do not trust him?”
“I do not trust anyone.”
“You trust me,” he said.
“Yes, well, you see where that got us.”
“Indeed,” he said. “I will do this thing. I think Luther will make a terrific War Pack master. I will take him and train him. I will prepare him the best I can for this tribulation that lies ahead of him.”
She hugged him, and she felt him tense.
“May I take her from you?”
She looked to see Flak standing behind her. She looked at Steppen, who said nothing. He could only nod and walk away.
She danced with her husband and kept a tight hold on her tears.
That night after the sex, she stepped out of the room with a gauzy shift on her shoulders, out onto the balcony that led from Flak’s room. She guessed it was her room now, but could not accept that. She looked down at the streets below her and saw women cleaning up from the second party. After the feast of celebration was over and she was on her way home, she arrived to find the streets outside of the Redfist mansion filled to brimming with Ragoth.
She had been forced to dance and make merry with them, and the whole time she had been out there, every woman fell silent as she approached. No Ragoth woman had spoken to her. She had been introduced to every man, woman, and child, and while the men and the children all met her with love and adoration, the women simply stared.
She watched them all cleaning, a mixture of fear and anger in her heart. She thought of the sex, and realized she would have to do that over and over again with him. She had not liked it, scared of his body and the pain it could cause her. He had been good at it, she could tell, which meant he had done it before. She did not know how to feel about that.
“I will give him a child, then I will leave. I will walk out of this city and go find another town. Maybe Steppen will come looking for me again. I will go to the same spot where he found me the first time and I will wait for him.” She only had to give Flak a child, then she was done. Then she could have her life.
Then she could get away.
IV
20 Years Before The Escape
She was walking with the other Ragoth women. Ellen and Helena were laughing about a wolf they had seen scraping its hind across a sleeping Fendis’s breast plate when Jocelyn felt the headache coming on.
It came like a bolt of lightning from the sky, there in a blink. From nothing to searing agony in a breath. The headache burned, as if her brain was set on fire. She stumbled, then Ellen grabbed her to steady her on her feet.
“Are you okay, darling?” Helena asked.
“Home,” was all Jocelyn could mutter before her legs gave out on her, and she dropped to the ground. The jug of wine she had been bringing home for Flak shattered on the ground, coloring the cobbles red, and the women knelt around her and stared down in fear. Helena went running. Every man stepped aside for her. The women dared not get in her way, and within a breath, Brock Clay looked down at Jocelyn and frowned. Jocelyn’s mind hurt so badly she could not scream. She stared up at Brock, who nodded to her.
“I’ve got you,” he said. “Please, just relax. We will have you fixed up in no time. Helena, Ellen, make room for me.”
The women rushed ahead of him, shoving people out of the way, and Brock carried her, walking as fast as he could through the Ragoth streets, headed for her home.
When she wet herself and began to tremble, Brock broke out in a run, yelling back over his shoulder. “Get Locke. Get the Fendis healers. Ellen,” he cried. “Find Flak.”
He rushed up the stairs and into her bedroom. He laid her in her bed gently and found a washcloth to wipe away sweat.
She spoke to him, but he ignored her. He opened the door to the balcony, threw back the thick curtains as she told him not to worry, she would be fine. But Brock did not say a thing. He did not seem to be listening at all.
&nb
sp; She realized then she wasn’t talking. Her fear leapt, and she struggled to speak. She heard no words coming out of her mouth. She kept fighting to talk and got nothing. No sound. Not a breath of air save the shallow breaths she seemed capable of.
Soon, she looked up to see Steppen standing over her. Luther glanced over his shoulder, and Yenna came in. He shoved the two men aside and looked down at her. Healers pushed him back, but he forced his way to her again.
“Jocelyn, you hold on,” Yenna said. He seemed shaken, and stepped back. She clearly heard him whispering to Steppen as if he were standing right over her.
“Seen this before,” Yenna said. “Came over Jessop’s mother before his birth,” Yenna mumbled as he walked out. “She never came back to us.”
“Jocelyn is twenty years old. She is too young for this,” Steppen said. From his voice she could tell he was scared, which brought her near to panic.
Flak burst into the room, shoved his way to her side. He wiped sweat from her face and stared into her eyes. He looked scared. Flak never looked scared. She felt her body panic, and she stared at him, wishing herself to talk, to moan, to blink, anything to let him know she could still hear him, that she could hear them all.
The healers stayed with her all night. They fought to chase Flak away, but he would not leave. Brock waited outside the door. She could hear him shift in his seat every now and then. His breath smelled of meat, and he had to urinate.
It was late that night when she heard a slam on the balcony, and Flak jumped to his feet. He stood at the balcony door, pulling his sword. From the wildly blowing curtains stepped Bounder. He pushed his way into the room and Flak roared.
“Brock!” Flak shouted, then charged.
The sword shattered when it hit Bounder’s skin, but Flak did not slow.
“Keep it busy,” he shouted to Brock. Flak’s frost brother did not flinch. He did not hesitate. He leapt into the air, and Bounder made to catch him. Brock twisted at the last moment, grabbing Bounder’s arm. He moved like water when he spun and wrapped his arms and legs around Bounder’s middle.
