by J. M. Kearl
Then out of nowhere he’s picturing Daelyn standing in her place. With golden hair falling around her face and blue eyes much like Saveena’s, staring back at him. What a mistake that would have been. How thankful he is to his brother who saw through the mess he made. He wonders still why he was so overcome by her, even now Saveena wanes in comparison to his former obsession with the Delhoon woman. Jershon suggested it was magic, but he thought his kirune ring protected him from that.
He dismisses Daelyn from his mind and forces thoughts of his true bride. He wants to get this over with as quickly as possible, he feels like Berg is drawling on and on though he’s not really hearing what the man is saying. Enden wants to get Saveena to their bedchambers. She’s been holding out on him all week, convinced it will make their wedding night sweeter. He can’t deny that he desires her now more than ever, perhaps because she’d told him no. He can relate to the old saying about wanting what one can’t have.
Berg looks to Enden and asks him to repeat his words, “In taking this woman I promise to care for her wellbeing, cherish her soul, and love her until the end of my days.” Enden does so and then Saveena repeats nearly the same.
“Kiss your bride,” Berg says.
Enden leans in and presses his lips to hers. The crowd cheers and then the after celebration begins. Enden takes Saveena by the hand and they walk to another room where the dancing and refreshments are extravagantly laid about. Music plays as guests file in and Enden pulls Saveena in for a dance. “You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
Saveena gives him her radiant smile. “Thank you. I never could have guessed I’d be married to you and become queen. I was always supposed to marry some minor lord like my father mentioned. Nicos.”
None of them could have foreseen this future. Enden never thought he’d be allied with Collweya, never even dreamed of it, and yet here is the woman who made it all possible. “It would seem fate had other plans in mind.”
Saveena pulls on Enden’s neck bringing him to her lips for a quick kiss. “The man I was betrothed to came with my father. Did you know?” Saveena’s eyes flick to a young man, standing beside Faustus, with light brown hair and a short stocky build.
“Were you close?” Enden asks, though he doesn’t feel jealousy. He knows Saveena is his now and always will be.
“Nicos and I were close as children. Not as much in the past few years. My father didn’t want us together alone until our wedding which was to be next year. I was supposed to marry him last year but I told my father I wanted to wait until I was twenty. Truth is, I never wanted to marry him. I wanted to be able to choose.”
Enden twirls a lock of her dark hair falling down her back around his finger. “Is that the real reason you left Collweya?”
Saveena nibbles on her bottom lip. “Part of me hoped that I would love Hesstia and find the perfect husband. I thought that was only a young girls fantasy, I always planned to go back.”
Enden chuckles at the thought of how ironic her ‘young girl’s fantasy’ was. “Well, do you love it here? Am I the perfect husband?”
Saveena presses her face against his chest holding him tighter. “I haven’t seen much of Hesstia but I love it because you are here.”
The song ends and Enden bows before his bride. Then Faustus approaches. “May I dance with my daughter?”
“Certainly,” Enden replies and makes his way over to the treat table, filled with decadent desserts. Peter and Dean, two of his soldiers that he now considers friends, come from around the table. “I overheard one of the young men with Faustus talking about how Saveena should have been his bride,” Dean says and scratches his scruffy face. “He seems upset about it, should we force him to leave?”
Enden shakes his head and decides on a banana pie with cream on top. “If it’s who I think it is, he should have married Saveena. They were evidently betrothed since they were children. Parental arrangement.” The servant hands him a piece of pie on a plate. He only gets in one bite before he’s bombarded with people congratulating him. One thing he misses about being prince is the privacy he had. He can’t go anywhere now without being interrupted.
Enden nods over and over, trying to hold a smile but all he wants is to eat his pie in peace. He gives Peter a nonchalant wave of a finger to signal him, Peter then asks everyone to step back and allow the king his privacy. Some of them seem perturbed, as they grumble walking away but Enden couldn’t care less.
“I’ll make sure someone keeps a watch on him at least,” Dean says and leaves Peter and Enden to eat their desserts.
“Normally I’d be jealous but I can see that Saveena doesn’t care for him, so it doesn’t matter how this Nicos feels about her.”
Peter watches Nicos who is staring at Saveena and her father dancing. “You think he might try something?”
“If he does, he’s a stupid man.” Enden shrugs not caring until he watched Nicos walk across the room and tap on Faustus’ shoulder. Now he wants to dance with Saveena?
Peter sets down his slice of pie. “Should I--”
“No,” Enden says. “It would be unbecoming for me to have him taken away in front of all my guests. The man is losing the woman he loves, one dance won’t hurt.” But he doesn’t like them dancing together either. Saveena keeps glancing over at Enden and then he finally gets the hint that she wants her new husband to come get her.
Enden hands Peter his plate and strides out to the dancing couple. “Excuse me but my wife looks so beautiful, I need another dance.”
Nicos’ brown eyes burn with hate but he bows before Enden. “Of course, Sire.”
Saveena wraps her arms around Enden’s neck and waits a few steps before speaking. “Thank you for saving me. He kept asking me why I would do this to him, and I didn’t know what to say.”
Enden doesn’t like that Nicos was bothering her. “If he’s a problem then I’ll have him escorted from the castle.”
Saveena shakes her head. “No, that will upset my father.”
“I won’t have him make you feel uncomfortable.”
“I’ll speak with my father,” Saveena says and then Enden tips her back as the song ends.
“You can speak with him later,” Enden whispers in her ear as he pulls her back up. “I want to make love to my wife. I can’t wait any longer.”
Saveena giggles and bites his ear. “Let’s go then.”
41. Boaden
The fire pits spreading out across the cold earth seem endless. Boaden isn’t sure how many soldiers there are in the dark but there must be at least a thousand, given the amount of fires burning. Daelyn stands beside him as they wait behind some trees in the distance. “How are we supposed to find her in there?” Daelyn asks.
“You’re not.” Boaden gives her a look. They’ve already spoken about this over the last week. Arguing about whether or not Daelyn will help. He’s going in alone. Presten and Kendoa don’t like it either but it’s the best plan. All of them together will look suspicious, especially with a woman dressed as a warrior. Hesstia doesn’t have women fighters.
“Stay here.” Boaden stares her in the face to make sure she agrees.
“Fine.” She folds her arms and he kisses her lips. “I love you,” she murmurs.
Boaden looks down at his attire. They killed a scout and took his Hesstian uniform not far from the camp. The pants are too short and a little tight but he doesn’t have another choice. He takes his dagger and drags it across his forearm. Daelyn cringes at the blood that drips to the ground. It’s in her nature to want to fix him and she looks away. Boaden gives a nod to the boys and slips into the camp; no one gives him a second glance as he passes by. He stops a few campfires in to inquire about the medical tent.
The soldiers he speaks to looks at his blood soaked sleeve. “You should have gone sooner. The battle has been over for hours.”
“I had other duties. It’s not deep but it does need attending to.”
The soldier tosses a piece of bread into his mo
uth. “Center of the camp. You’ll hear it before you see it.”
Boaden doesn’t have to ask what he means. The painful groans of wounded men, and they grow louder the closer he gets. Since Boaden has never been in a vast battle, he’s never heard the sound of hundreds of men crying in pain before but it’s gut-wrenching. His stomach turns seeing the wounded spread across the ground, up on tables or in makeshift beds, if they are lucky. He spots a woman with long dark hair in the distance, and pauses his gait. The firelight is dim making it hard to distinguish faces but he has to be sure before he approaches the woman. When she turns there’s no doubt it’s Ehvas, even with a half shadowed face he recognizes her side profile. A petite nose like their mother’s and a perfectly matched chin.
Boaden steps around men, one reaches out and grabs his leg. “Help me,” he gasps. “Please.”
Boaden looks down, sees the pain on his face and is angry with himself that he can’t pass him by. He squats down. “Where are you hurt?” There is a blanket covering his torso so Boaden can’t see any visible wounds.
Tears fill his eyes, and stream down a dirty face. “I need something… for the pain,” he says with a shaky hand that still held Boaden. “I won’t live but…” his voice wavers.
Boaden lifts the blanket and sees the massive gash across his belly revealing his insides. “Shit,” Boaden mumbles. Being prepared for anything, Boaden has a pain potion in his bag. He knows it’s stupid to give it away when his own crew may need it but his gut won’t let him walk away. Boaden pulls the clear painkiller from his bag and tugs the stopper. He brings the bottle to the injured soldier’s lips and pours a mouthful. “Rest now.”
With no time to linger, Boaden stands. The man releases his grip and his face relaxes. “Thank you,” he says and closes his eyes, his chest movement slowing to a steady pace.
A few more steps and he’s just behind Ehvas, who’s stitching up a man’s outer thigh near the knee. Her arms to her elbows are smeared with blood and her chest is splattered in red. She has the concentrated expression she always gets when she’s working on someone. The man groans when she presses her hand on top of his thigh. “Stop moving,” she commands.
“My arm need stitched up,” Boaden says, standing slightly to the side and behind her.
She keeps her focus on the leg in front of her. “Is it life threatening?”
Boaden glances down at it. “No.”
“Then you’ll have to wait. Men are dying.”
Boaden takes a few steps and is right beside her. All she had to do is look over. A moment later she glances up and over at him and then back at the leg. Boaden’s mouth breaks into a small smile. His sister doesn’t recognize him.
“If you’re going to just stand there then be of some use, soldier.” She pulls the last stitch through. “Grab me those scissors.” Boaden places them in her outstretched hand and she cuts the line.
Then she turns her full attention to him and the needle between her lips falls when her mouth drops. She grabs Boaden’s cut arm, “Let me take a look at that over here.” They walk to a somewhat secluded area at least four or five yards away from any eavesdroppers.
Standing under a torch, she inspects the wound. “What are you doing here?” she asks, dabbing at his cut. “This is the same arm you hurt before.”
Boaden’s mind drifts for a moment to the time she had to fix him up at the academy.
Pain ripped through Boaden’s arm while he made his way to find Ehvas. A professor offered to escort him but Ehvas would never let that go, she’d ridicule him the rest of his life. Boaden pushed open the door to the medical unit, nearly in tears. His forearm ached with an intense pain, enough that he believed it to be broken. He cradled his to keep it from moving and felt pathetic walking towards his sister whose back was turned to him.
One of the girls working beside Ehvas nudged her side. “Your brother is here.” This was Ehvas’s last year and Boaden’s third; making him thirteen years old.
Ehvas rolled her eyes when she turned around. “What happened to the golden boy?”
Boaden’s face burned when the girls in the room giggled. “I think it’s broken.” His arm sagged at the center of his forearm. She took his wrist a little too rough and he pulled back. “That hurts.”
“Oh, stop it,” she said and moved her hand toward him again. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of the older girls so he let her pull him this time, wincing at the sharp sting.
“Be careful, Ehvas,” the blonde girl next to her said. “It is clearly broken. If you won’t be nice to him, I will.”
Ehvas turned to her with a death glare. “He’s my brother, I’ll fix him.”
Ehvas’s touch grew gentler and she sat him down on a chair. “How did this happen? You’re supposed to be the best.” She softly rubbed a pain relieving salve on the spot of the break.
“He broke the rules,” Boaden said with a grunt. “After the match was over, he turned and hit my arm with his sparring sword.”
“Tell me his name,” Ehvas said and pulled the stopper from a healing potion.
Boaden shook his head. He didn’t want his sister fighting his battles for him.
“Tell me or I won’t give you this.”
“If you don’t, she will,” Boaden said, eyes moving to the blonde girl, and smirked.
Ehvas shook her head but then handed him the bottle. “Fine but you better handle that boy. You can’t let some asshole do that to you without retaliation.”
“What should I do? He’s already in trouble with the professor.”
Ehvas grew a wicked grin, “I have an idea.”
Boaden squints at a pair of Hesstian soldiers walking by and waits for them to pass. “I came to get you.”
Ehvas takes a clean cloth from the pouch at her hip and places it over Boaden’s cut. “I can’t leave. There are three guards specifically assigned to watch me.” Her eyes move over Boaden’s shoulder to a trio sitting at the entry of the nearby tent. One of the guards notices Ehvas and Boaden and heads their way. “He’ll want to know why we’re standing so far away from everyone.”
Boaden places his hand over the cloth and holds it. “Tell him you needed to get a better look with the torchlight or something like that.”
The soldier walks over with his hand on the hilt of his sword. “What’s the problem?” he asks.
“There is no problem. Why are you asking?” Ehvas responds.
Boaden is surprised at the tone she takes with this man. Like he’s scum.
He seems used to it. “Why are you two over here instead of with the others?”
Ehvas’s face hardens. “His arm is injured, and I needed a break from dying men grabbing me, begging for my help. I can only save so many.”
The soldier looks at Boaden and then heads back to his friends without another word. They begin laughing about something, and Boaden can’t help but feel sorry for all the men in such pain while these three tell jokes. They could be attending to the wounded.
Why do I even care that the enemy is suffering? It’s better if they all die. “We can slip out of here. It will only take seconds for us to disappear into the masses of the camp.”
She shakes her head, and lifts her shoulder to wipe her sleeve against her cheek. “They’ll sound the alarm and we’ll be caught before we can get out of here. I’m too easily recognized.”
Pursing his lips, Boaden’s eyes drift to the three soldiers, sitting in the tent. He figures he can take them out quickly and hope they don’t make any noise. “I’ll take care of them, you get ready to leave.”
The anxiety coming off her is palpable. “If we’re caught, they’ll kill you. I can’t let that happen, and I have a kirune manacle around my ankle so no spelling out of here.”
Boaden didn’t anticipate having to convince her to leave this place. Any rational person would be jumping at the chance. They don’t have time to argue about this any longer. “Remember how we got payback on the kid who broke my arm?” he whispers.
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Ehvas half smiles. “Of course I do.”
They silently agree, Boaden nods giving her the signal and she falls into her brothers arms seemingly unconscious. He carries her over to the soldier’s otherwise empty tent, and they jump up from their seats upon seeing her.
“What happened?” one asks.
“I don’t know, she just fainted,” Boaden says, laying her down on an empty table. This plan worked when Ehvas fake fainted in front of the boy who broke Boaden’s arm. He stopped to help Ehvas, she sat up and punched him in the nose and Boaden cracked him across the jaw. That boy never messed with him again. But this time they had to kill not injure. The soldiers gather around Ehvas, and Boaden takes a deep breath summoning his magic. He waves his hand across all three, snapping their necks. It took a lot of energy but they fall to the ground and Ehvas shoots upright.
“Move, now,” he says in a low voice. They walk leisurely out of the tent so they don’t draw attention. Men grab at them as they pass but there’s not time to stop and help now.
They make it to where they can see the edge of the camp when someone says from behind, “Where are you taking the healer?”
Boaden turns. “She needs to relieve herself.”
The man, tall, black hair and beard steps closer, his eyes traveling up and down Boaden. “I’ve never seen you before.”
Boaden stands with his shoulders back staring at the man. He can’t risk appearing nervous. “I’ve seen you, sir. You were amazing on the battlefield today.”
The man’s stern face cracks a smile. “Thank you, soldier.” His eyes move to Ehvas. “Hurry up, our men need your help.”
“Yes, sir,” she replies.
They wait for the man to turn and leave and quickly make it into the cover of the trees and break into a run. Minutes later they reach Daelyn and the others who waited atop their horses. Hess moves to Boaden with the reins of the mare they brought for Ehvas attached to the saddle.
