Page 56 of Between Fear and Favor

DEWALT

The symmetryof witnessing Salas die with her head in Nor’s lap was unsettling. Salas, unlike me, would not recover. I kept my head bowed, unable to look at them for long. Within the shelter of the tunnel, my remaining soldiers gathered. With Penellion dead, there was no leadership for the smugglers, and the fight ended swiftly after. Though the mining town was probably only a two-hour ride southeast, there were wounds to mend and nearly half of the people under my care to lay to rest. The wind had picked back up, so it made the most sense to take refuge within the tunnel, no matter how little I wanted to be inside it anymore. Dickey, one of the less injured with only a swollen eye, built a fire while I brought in pails of snow to melt. We’d had enough water to get us here, but it wasn’t enough to clean our wounds.

After setting Fletcher’s dislocated shoulder as Emma had shown me, and tearing two of my shirts apart to make a sling and bandages for the others, I got to work outside. I couldn’t listen to Nor’s haunting lullaby as Salas took her last breaths. The woman seemed to know every nursery rhyme I’d grown up hearing, and she sang them so softly and sweetly. If I didn’t keep moving, I would have become entranced, that clear, quiet voice rendering me motionless. I wasn’t deserving of that sort of beauty and avoiding her was in my best interest.

“The wolves will come any minute, General Holata,” Kife said from where he stood, keeping watch.

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped.

Moving into the clearing, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes. The wind whipped the hair off my neck, and I knew he was right. The wolves had grown bold with the scent of blood in the air. My decisions had cost three lives, and I needed to figure out what the fuck had happened to me. I had been tired, wanting to rest properly, but that couldn’t be an excuse for complacency. And then when I’d hesitated after, that had been a new low. I’d always rushed headfirst into every battle, destroying my foes with a confidence many would have considered egotistical. And tonight, I’d been unable to move. The fact it wasn’t the first time either made it so much worse.

I broke off the arrow in Eradia’s back before picking her up and making my way up the hill. She was lighter than I expected, and my throat tightened with emotion. Gently placing her on the ground in a small clearing far from the tunnel entrance, I whispered that I was sorry and gently put my fingertips on her eyelids to close them. I moved in silence, placing Runin beside her. I didn’t linger.

The ground was too cold to dig into, so I began to gather firewood. Dickey eventually joined me, picking up branches and sticks to gently pile on top of my soldiers. Neither of us spoke. And after Salas took her last breath and was laid beside the others, Dickey lit the pyre while I spoke the final blessing. Staring into the flames, I stood there in my remorse, twisting my bracelet around my wrist.

I’d asked Thyra what I was supposed to do with my hair after Nor cut it, and she’d told me it was my decision. Many worshipers of the old gods burned it with ceremony, letting go of their past failures, while others buried it. I’d decided to keep it close—a reminder of the cost of my mistakes. I fiddled with it, staring at the fire as its crackling grew louder and the scent of slaughter filled my nostrils. I didn’t move until a warm hand brushed against mine.

“Everyone else is bandaged and taken care of,” Nor said. “That means it’s your turn.”

When she pulled me away, leading me into the warmth of the tunnel, I didn’t fight. There was no point in arguing. Blood had been steadily dripping into my eye for a while, and it was impractical. When she moved past the fire, she snagged a torch and lit it before passing it to me. Nor carefully picked her way past the bedrolls of those lying down to rest before skittering past the horses. It would have been amusing had I not just burned the bodies of three soldiers—friends—whose deaths I was responsible for.

After we maneuvered past the animals and I put the torch in a sconce, I found her unfolding a damp cloth. Wet with melted snow, I recognized it as a piece of my shirt. Her hair was still in her normal bun, but it had loosened, and a few tendrils had escaped. She brushed them behind her ears with one hand.

“Kneel,” she said, gesturing toward my forehead. “I can’t reach.” I did as I was told, not bothering to come up with an untoward comment about being on my knees. I didn’t have the energy to wield sarcasm or humor as a defense against her. Or perhaps it was because I’d stopped viewing her as opposition a long time ago.

I didn’t wince as she cleaned the blood from my skin. It wasn’t a deep laceration, the injury sustained when an elbow had split open my skin at the hairline. Head wounds always looked worse than they actually were. I stared straight ahead, fixating on a snagged thread of her shirt just below her sternum. Her touch was light as she cleaned my forehead, and I clasped my hands behind my back to keep myself from reaching forward and grabbing her hips. The urge to dip my head and rest it against her stomach nearly overwhelmed me, but I didn’t allow it. Fuck, I hadn’t even apologized to her yet.

“Are you hurt elsewhere?” she asked, and I finally looked up at her. Concern tightened her features, thick brows expressive as they furrowed. Her lips curved downward, and I thought perhaps it was pity as she tilted her head to the side. I noticed a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead as she reached up and rubbed her neck, the pink skin from her scars contrasting with her pale fingertips. Her eyes appeared green in the light, and I couldn’t stop staring at her. Relief crashed over me heavily at that moment. She was unharmed—giving me the tenderness I’d coveted—and though I didn’t deserve it, I indulged in it. I lifted my hands and gripped her elbows, allowing her to steady me.

I swallowed hard, and my voice came out thick. “I’m fine,” I said.

Her lips parted, a faint sound tumbling past them. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered, cupping the side of my face. I closed my eyes, letting myself have a moment of comfort even if she was wrong. I’d failed my soldiers; I’d failed my king and queen. And somehow, the part I found most important in that moment, I’d failed her.

“Dewalt,” she said—so quietly. She bent over me, pressing her soft lips to my forehead before pulling back. My heart ached over the touch. “I’m serious,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault because it was mine.” Confused, I raised my eyes to hers. Head tilted down, she clasped her hands together in front of her. “I told that man...Penellion...that I’d be leaving.” When I only stared at her, she continued, scratching at the inside of her wrist. “I didn’t tell him where or when or how or why or anything, but it seems he figured it out,” she stammered.

“Do you have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever, Nor?” Irritation heated my veins, but there was no fire in my words. How could I protect her if she didn’t protect herself? I didn’t think any of it was her fault, and I wouldn’t place any blame at her feet for what happened. I should have done things differently. It was my responsibility to her and to my soldiers. We wouldn’t have been caught unawares had I exercised more caution. But the fact she so willingly shared something that endangered her? That frustrated the hell out of me. How could someone so clever and seemingly put together be so fucking reckless? I supposed recklessness and fearlessness went hand in hand. The feeling in my chest burned hot with the memory of another headstrong woman.

I hadn’t been able to protect her either.

Nor clenched her fist as her face reddened. “I didn’t think—How could I have known?”

I didn’t answer, knowing nothing I could say in the moment would be productive. She had put herself in peril, even if unknowingly, and that knowledge was grating. I didn’t want to fight with her. “Thank you for cleaning me up,” I said as I turned. After a moment, she ran after me, grabbing my wrist.

“Don’t you ever use your visions on me again. That was...frightening and undignified,” she said, voice loud and riled in my mind. I ignored her, suppressing the smile which came to my lips unbidden. Undignified. I nearly snorted at her choice of words. “I didn’t deserve that. I know it is all my fault, and I will weep about it tonight. I will mourn Eradia, Runin, and Salas every night—probably for the rest of my life. But I didn’t deserve to be put into a made-up little box, thinking I was stuck.” Again, I ignored her. “You should have trusted me,” she continued. That one nearly made me break my silence. As if she wouldn’t have run right out and gotten herself killed to feel helpful. She was fierce and brave and kind, even if she was reckless.

And I thought she was fucking perfect.

I carefully picked my way past my soldiers as they tried to sleep, Turman already snoring loudly. I noticed a certain ginger pretending to not pay attention to me and Nor.

“Why aren’t you answering me?” she whispered, irritated.

Using my divinity, I weaved a vision. Brightening the tunnel, I made her see me turn toward her. I didn’t use the full extent of my gifts, so she would still feel her hand on my wrist, and she’d know it was only in her mind. The other version of me tipped her chin up, leaning down so we were face to face. I was tempted to turn in reality, but thought better of it. I didn’t speak aloud, but in the vision, I said, “I will not apologize for protecting you in whichever way I see fit. Even if you don’t like it. Besides, one day you might see the merit in being undignified.”

When her cheeks flushed further, I had a moment of regret. I shouldn’t have said what I did, wielding seductive words to unsettle her and force her contempt, and I certainly shouldn’t have imagined her with her hair unbound, looking positively shameful. Not for the first time, I wondered what the fuck was wrong with me. No matter that I ached for her, that I wanted to seek solace in her arms, I couldn’t have her. It had already gone too far as it was, and so when I detached her hand from my wrist, I promised myself to keep her at arm’s length.

Chapter 28

HONOR

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