Winter Queen Page 15

  When she finished, she lifted her foot out of the bucket. The skin on her ankle was dark purple and stretched tight. It would take days, perhaps even weeks, to fully heal.

  Rone must have heard her stirring. He came in with a leather bag. “We have a few hours until full dark. Do you want to go back to sleep until it’s time to leave?”

  “No. I don’t think I could sleep.” She tried to smile.

  He sat next to her and handed her strips of rags, and a bunch of slightly wilted mountain daisies. “Mally said these help with swelling.”

  Ilyenna shredded the daisies, then used the rags to wrap her ankle, with the daisies between her skin and the bindings. “Where are they?”

  One by one, Rone showed her the supplies—flint and striker, a dagger, a wheel of cheese, dried strips of meat, travel bread, blankets, potatoes. Zezrom and Mally had given them enough to last a week if they were careful. “Zezrom went to scout ahead. Mally took the children and left. She doesn’t want them here if the Tyrans show up.”

  Ilyenna shivered. “That’s wise of her.”

  She inspected her wrapping. Satisfied, she rubbed her sore, stiff muscles. “You’d be better off without me. I’m slowing you down.”

  Rone took her hand. “We’re together on this, Ilyenna. I won’t leave you.”

  Together? Ilyenna looked into his eyes. Did she really hear tenderness in his voice? Her blood surged hot through her. Then she remembered Darrien, his roving hands and wet mouth. Why couldn’t it have been Rone? Tears sprang to her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Shaking her head, she glanced away. He squeezed her hand. “Tell me?”

  She sighed. Chances were she and Rone would be dead in a few hours. If not, a worse fate awaited her. If she didn’t tell him now, she might never have the chance. “The first kiss I ever had to give was taken from me . . . by Darrien. I—I can’t bear to think he’ll take more.” She saw Rone stiffen and forced herself to meet his furious gaze. Softly, she said, “I wish it had been you.”

  His eyes widened, and Ilyenna wanted to suck the words back into her mouth. Humiliated, she pushed herself to her knees. Rone shot up and locked his arms around her but said nothing.

  “I know you’ve always thought of me as your little sister, but I’m not, Rone, I—”

  At the look on his face, the words died in her throat. She was suddenly aware that he held her in his arms. Both of them were on their knees, their bodies only a few inches apart. He’d made no effort to move away. “Ilyenna, I haven’t thought of you as a little sister for a long time. I–I love you.”

  She gasped. Unable to help herself, she pressed her fingertips to Rone’s lips as if to feel the words he’d just spoken. Her love for him swelled within her.

  He leaned toward her. Trapped in his arms with no desire to escape, Ilyenna felt her lips pound in the rhythm of her heart. She felt his breath against her mouth—she could almost taste him. She leaned into him, and he cradled her head in his hand. His mouth met hers, his lips gentle at first. Then the kiss grew deeper.

  Rone pulled back, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose. He traced her jaw with his lips, then brushed them against her neck and her exposed shoulder. It surprised her that such gentleness could light a fire within her. They kissed again. Ilyenna gripped his shirt in her fists and opened her mouth. Rone responded, pulling her to him until she could feel his heart beating through their clothes. She splayed her fingers over his broad back, exploring his sinewy muscles.

  And suddenly his tunic was too thick. She slipped her fingers under the fabric, touching the skin just above his navel. He shuddered. She felt his warm skin prickle with gooseflesh. He tightened his hold, pressing her against him as if they’d both die if he let go. His mouth went to her neck, and he gently took her skin between his teeth. She craved his every touch, demanding more. He pressed her back into the soft hay.

  She had this one gift left to give—and by the dead, she’d give her first time to Rone. Then Darrien could never take it from her.

  15. Raiders

  On the outskirts of Kebholm, Ilyenna lay flat in a field of hay, her belly pressed against the grass, grit etching outlines on her palms. Her neck hurt from constantly peering at the barn where Rone had disappeared. And after a few hours of a horseback ride that had rattled the rabbits in their burrows, her behind ached mercilessly.

  She kept her breathing shallow as she listened for the sounds of mirth inside the inn to change to sounds of alarm. If the Kebs inside discovered Rone, there was no way he could fight them all off. It was why he’d insisted she stay hidden instead of going inside with him. That way, at least one of them stood a chance of making it.

  Ilyenna’s stomach growled again. Silently, she cursed its noises—and the warm smell of food that had set it off. Rich gravies, baked bread, and ham.

  Behind her, the plow horse nickered. She’d thought she’d tied him far enough away from the other horses to keep him quiet, but close enough she could use him if she needed. Obviously she’d been wrong.

  He nickered again. She turned toward the sound. If he made much more noise, she’d have to abandon her hiding place and move him farther away. She waited, sweat prickling her skin. Silence. With a sigh of relief, she turned back to the barn and muttered, “Rone, what is taking you so—”

  Suddenly, she heard a boot against the ground. She pressed herself flat, hoping an inn patron had just gone to water a tree. He would pass her by without seeing her, if she just held still enough.

  She strained to listen. Sounds from the inn. The singing of grasshoppers. The breeze through the grass. No footsteps. Had she imagined it?

  No.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Someone was behind her. She could feel them. Sweat broke out on her brow. Had they seen her?

  Keeping her movements slow and even, she glanced back. There was a blur of movement. Darrien must have found her! She tried to lunge to her feet, but he was already on top of her, slamming her into the ground. Should she scream? But that would rouse the inn. They would find Rone. Darrien would find Rone!

  She reached for her borrowed knife. Another man gripped her hand, squeezing it so hard she almost cried out. He jerked the knife from her. They began dragging her away. She twisted and squirmed, digging her heels into the ground. Her ankle screamed in pain. They hauled her back to the cluster of trees where she’d tied the plow horse. The animal must have nickered a greeting to their horses when they came in. She should’ve known.

  The first one hauled her around. It wasn’t Darrien. What she saw terrified her even more.

  Raiders. A scream tore from her lips. The larger Raider’s hand clamped her mouth and nose shut, holding her jaw closed so she couldn’t bite. But she couldn’t breathe, either. The dead help her, she was drowning again!

  “No move. I let you go.” His heavy accent sounded like a death march to her ears.

  Terrified, she froze. He removed his hand. She gulped cool air as the two of them bound her hands. “The men in the inn, they’ll notice I’m gone. They’ll come looking for me.”

  The smaller Raider’s skull tattoos were making her dizzy. “This why you hide? So they find you? This clan game?”

  He was mocking her. But at least they didn’t know Rone was with her.

  The two men conversed in their guttural-sounding language. Then they lifted her onto the plow horse and started leading her away. She distinctly heard Undon’s name. Her heart seized within her. “What do you want with me?”

  The small Raider grinned lustily at her. Her whole body crawled with revulsion. She had to buy more time so Rone would come out. “I know who you are and why you’re here! You’re scouts for the Raiders coming down Shyle Pass.” Both men froze and stared at her incredulously. No doubt they were here to count clanmen, find weaknesses, and assess strengths. “Thought to have a little fun while you were out, is that it?”

  They exchanged glances. “How you know?” the large man demande
d.

  “Undon isn’t the ally you think he is.” Ilyenna tried to say it confidently, but she trembled despite herself.

  Moving a few paces off, they leaned toward each other, talking low. Idiots. She didn’t speak Raider anyway. They grew louder and motioned with their hands, seeming panicked. For the moment, they seemed to have forgotten her. She considered booting the plow horse, but they still had a firm hold on the reins and her hands were tied.

  She eased one leg over the horse and dropped silently down, ignoring the pain shooting through her ankle. Hunched over and using the plow horse’s wide body to shield her, she hurried through the field and headed for Kebholm.

  One of the men let out a surprised shout. Despite the pain in her ankle, she burst into an all-out sprint. But she knew they’d overtake her long before she reached Kebholm. She had to hide. She veered toward the thick trees clustered around the river.

  If they caught her, she’d scream. They’d kill her, but it might raise the inn. If the men found the Raiders, at least they’d know something was wrong.

  She heard them behind her, nearly silent despite their bulk. They were experts at this game—a game to which there were no rules—and she was a novice. Fresh terror surged through her. She felt one of the men dive for her, gripping her legs and bringing her down. She filled her lungs to scream when something spun above her, hitting the Raider in the torso and knocking him back. A black mass hurtled above her, a shining axe catching the moonlight.

  The large raider only had time to widen his eyes before Rone lopped his head off, spraying Ilyenna with warm blood. With a thud, the head hit the ground, followed shortly by the limp body. Digging her heels into the ground, she scrambled to get as far away from the body as she could.

  The other Raider took off in the opposite direction.

  Rone snatched the shield he must have thrown. “How many are there?” he cried as his axe nicked the cords around Ilyenna’s hands.

  She lighted to her feet. “That’s the only one left.”

  “The horses are back there.” Rone pointed. “Get them and wait for me by the river.” He took off after the other man.

  Trying not to look at the dead Raider, Ilyenna retrieved her borrowed knife from where it was tucked in the man’s belt. She ran back through the forest and out into the open. Terrifed, she struggled to breathe, hurrying in the dark toward the place Rone had indicated.

  She found the horses. They shied when she barreled toward them, but Rone had tied them to a tree. Ilyenna stopped and spoke softly, stroking their necks. She knew they could smell the blood on her clothes, but eventually the animals calmed enough that she was able to mount one of them. She held tightly to the reins of the second.

  She nudged her horse forward, but the second horse balked. The reins seared her hand, but she held on, determined not to let it pull free. Just as she was at the end of the rein, the horse finally gave up and grudgingly followed. Ilyenna wrapped the second horse’s reins around the horn and moved the horses into an awkward trot.

  She fought the sickness in her stomach. Rone was fine. He had to be. But when she reached the river, he was nowhere to be seen. Though it was a cool night, sweat ran down her back. Then it started to rain, washing the Raider’s sticky blood from her clothes and hair. Ilyenna searched the darkness and listened. Then she saw a man running toward her through the field, axe in one hand, shield in the other.

  “Rone?” she cried, her body tensed to flee.

  “It’s me, Ilyenna,” he said between breaths.

  All the tension went out of her, leaving her weak and shaky. “Thank the dead. The Raider?”

  “Escaped.”

  She noticed Rone held something that looked like a wet piece of cloth that was a bit bigger than her hand. He shoved it in his saddlebags before she could get a good look. Then, in one fluid motion, he leapt into the saddle of the second horse. The animal pinned his ears flat against his head and arched his back.

  “Couldn’t you find a better horse?” Ilyenna asked nervously.

  “No complaints from you!” He kicked the horse, his weapon held awkwardly in his other hand. She held her breath, hoping the horse wouldn’t buck. She imagined Rone slamming into the earth with nothing but the axe to break his fall.

  He kicked the horse again. This time the animal moved forward, though it still looked ready to throw its rider. “I did your owner a favor,” Rone muttered as they galloped into the night.

  16. Rye Whiskey

  The horses’ breathing sounded like a raw stutter. Ilyenna and Rone slowed them to a walk. She was soaking wet and miserable. Rummaging in his pack, Rone tossed something her way. “Put it on.”

  She started when she realized what it was. A Keb clan belt. “Where’d you get this?”

  He smiled mischievously. “I borrowed it.”

  “You think it will help?”

  “There’ll be no doubt that we’re the runaway Argon clan chief and Shyle clan mistress if anyone sees the knots in my belt and notices that your belt is missing.”

  “My black hair will give me away anyway,” Ilyenna said softly, wondering again if Rone wouldn’t be better off without her. She fixed her gaze ahead. “How much longer?”

  He motioned to the horses. “Ornery though this one is” —he glanced at his mare as if warning her—“I chose them both for their condition. If we push them, we should be able to make the journey by tomorrow morning.”

  Ilyenna kept glancing behind them, trying to see through the damp darkness. Her ears strained to hear the racing hoof beats of the Raider above the rain and thunder. But Rone kept a sharp lookout ahead of them, watching for Darrien’s traps. Imminent attack might come from any side, by Tyrans or Raiders.

  She gritted her teeth as the lightning cast everything in sharp white clarity. “I hate this.”

  In answer, Rone pushed his horse back into a trot. They rode hard through the night. Ilyenna’s head ached from lack of sleep, and her body burned with weariness that intensified with every stride the horses took. If not for Rone, she’d have found a secluded spot and gone to sleep. But he pressed on, seemingly tireless, and her pride wouldn’t let her be outdone.

  When morning came, he led her off the road through a field of winter rye to a stand of trees lining a stream bed. While he tended their animals, she ate quickly and scrubbed her teeth with a bit of wool. She washed at the river before curling up under some blankets Rone had taken along with their horses.

  She was surprised when instead of lying with her, Rone dropped down a few paces away. She stared at his turned back. Since that magical night, he hadn’t touched her. In fact, he rarely even looked at her. She had made excuses, but looking at his turned back, she couldn’t hide from the truth. He regretted what had happened between them. His sudden passion and declaration of love had simply been a result of their dire situation. It was the only explanation Ilyenna could come up with. Despite her exhaustion, it was a long time before sleep finally took her to the place of dreams.

  Rone’s hand on her shoulder woke her. “We need to hurry.” He turned his back to her as he saddled his horse.

  Already, night was coming on. She’d slept through the whole day. Her body was drenched with rain and her mouth tasted like she’d sucked on the wool all night instead of just cleaning her teeth with it. Both thirsty and hungry, she hurriedly consumed her allotment of food before mounting her horse. The pace they forced on the animals was grueling. She felt sorry for them, but Rone insisted they make the Riesen village by morning—even if it killed both horses.

  By the time night had gone from black to grainy gray, Riesenholm was a smoky smudge in the distance. At the sight, Ilyenna went from a kind of numb rote to full wakefulness. She glanced at Rone, suddenly very glad she wasn’t alone in this, that she had him to protect her.

  As they neared the village, he pulled the horses off the road and into a stand of trees. When they were fully concealed, he stared at her. It was the first time he’d actually focused on her s
ince their run-in with the Raiders. It made her hurt deep inside her soul—so deep only he had ever touched her there.

  Absently, he stroked his axe hilt. “The Riesen clan house is in the center of the village. But we’re not going in there until I can scout a bit.”

  Ilyenna’s hands itched to grip her knife. “Couldn’t we just ride in hard, head straight for the clan house?” she asked hopefully.

  “Never walk blind into anything, Ilyenna. Not if you can help it.” He continued his silent assessment of her. “We’ll leave the horses tied inside the field, close to the village. That way we can use them if we have to.”

  She didn’t say anything. They both knew their horses were too tired to outrun even a swaybacked nag.

  “Stay with me until we reach the outskirts. I’ll find someplace for you to hide. Then we’ll figure out what to do.” His breath was white in the cold air. He handed her a blanket. “Waiting could be chilly.”

  She took it, though she didn’t feel cold. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips, her weariness suddenly overwhelming her. “Can’t we wait until tomorrow?”

  He shook his head. “Undon could be patrolling the area. I’m not willing to take the risk of being found.”

  Rone gripped her arm and led her to the outskirts of Riesenholm, where he searched until he found a berry bush beside a house. “Stay here until I come back for you. If you don’t see me by morning, get back to the horses and try on your own tomorrow.”

  Her hands started trembling. “Rone, I–I’m sorry.” She knew she’d been tense and snappish.

  He smiled halfheartedly. “I know. So am I.”

  He turned and trotted away. She stared after him, her mouth full of the words she wanted to say. But he was gone. She tucked herself behind the bush and set in to wait. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle. Hidden as she was, the only useful sense left for her was sound. It was both a relief and a torture when she continued to hear nothing.