Page 36 of Bought to Break
They began to move. Their travel was quicker than she’d anticipated, as they left the wagons behind to travel at their own slower pace. Henrick rode next to her in silence. She found his company oddly soothing. Perhaps it was because he was older and didn’t look at her with lust in his eyes the way the other soldiers did. She tried to ignore the men, but their covetous looks her way and whispers to each other made her uneasy. Fortunately, whenever one of them got too close, Henrick gave him a pointed stare and he receded back into the ranks.
They travelled long into the day and stopped in the mid-afternoon by a river. Some of the soldiers made fires while others went to hunt, and Lana was reminded of Viktor and Sorin. Where were they and, in fact, where was Kane? She hadn’t seen him since that morning. Her cheeks heated as she thought of how she’d watched him in the night. What had she been thinking? And then what she’d done afterwards … He hadn’t even coerced her. After all that had happened the day before – Gods, her father’s corpse hadn’t even been cold and she had still wanted to please the man who’d caused his death. What did that make her?
An old woman had come to their village selling love charms once. Was Kane using something like that, or perhaps a subtle compulsion born of his horriblegift? Surely these things she felt weren’t real. They had to be some trick or sorcery, didn’t they?
But they so closely mirrored her odd feelings for Sorin and Viktor. What did it mean? She hardly knew these men, and so much of what she had seen of them was dark and violent. They killed with no remorse and, in fact, with pleasure, it seemed. Their world was so far removed from hers. How could she care for such men? It was true that Sorin and Viktor had seemed to have a soft spot for her. They had treated her well, after all. But they were angry with her for her thievery. Would they treat her cruelly when she saw them again? She sighed in confusion and frustration. There was no way out of this that she could see. Again, she could only wait and see what fate had planned; leave everything in others’ control. The way a slave’s life was, she supposed.
Henrick had her sit on a rock by the river away from the men but still close enough that she didn’t stand a chance of escaping again. So she sat, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering in the cooling late afternoon air. She watched as the soldiers came back with their kills sometime later, roaring at each other and guffawing as they drank deep from their wine skins. It was a contest, she realised. The man who came back with the most meat was the winner, much like the one Sorin and Viktor had played that night by the ruins.
In this case it was a large, bearded mercenary who beat his chest and howled, and she smiled in spite of herself. Unfortunately, he turned at that moment and noticed her regard, puffing up his chest and letting his eyes drift over her boldly. She looked away at once, but Henrick was already there.
‘You’d do well not to call attention to yourself, girl,’ he scolded. ‘I’ve been given the task of seeing to your safety, but even I can only do so much if they mutiny with none of the Brothers here. I’ll leave you to your fate, girl, just see if I don’t. You’re not worth dying for.’
She looked down, chastened. ‘I’m sorry, Henrick. Truly, I didn’t mean to.’
He threw something on the ground at her feet with a snort. A cloak. He must have seen her shivering. She’d had to leave her other one in her father’s house and the gossamer dress was definitely not made for winter travel. She was afraid she was beginning to get ill. She felt tired most days, even after a good night’s sleep.
She donned it quickly and looked up, intending to thank him for his kindness, but he’d already moved to one of the fires. Once the meat was cooked, he brought her some, and by then the wagons had caught up. Short work was made of erecting the tents, though the large one of the Brothers’ was nowhere to be seen. By the time darkness fell, Henrick led her to one of the smallest ones and ushered her inside, telling her he would be close by if she needed anything, though she got the distinct impression that any requests before morning would not be met with friendliness. She finally asked him where Kane was, but he simply shrugged and left her, tying the flaps tightly behind him.
The next two days passed in the same fashion, the hours so indistinguishable that Lana began to question how much time was passing. Kane didn’t appear. Henrick rarely spoke to her and the others never did at all, she supposed on pain of death. It was as if she was behind an invisible wall, closed off from everyone. Even the dreams of Kane at night had stopped. She began to feel lonely and isolated, which she told herself was silly. She’d spent years as a slave with no family or friends, though it had been different. She’d always had the tavern girls to talk to. Though not friends per se, they’d been close in their own way, and they’d always been kind to her when they were able.
At the end of the third day, they reached a ferry to cross the river. The men began to go across in groups with their horses, then the wagons, one by one. When it was her turn to go with Henrick, she froze as her hand touched the railing of the large raft. The other side of the river looked the same as the one she was on, but there was something frightening, menacing. The ferryman complained about her taking too long, and Henrick prodded her forward.
‘Where is Kane?’
Henrick shrugged, his usual response to a question he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – answer, she had learned. He pushed her again, but she refused to budge.
‘I will not go a step further until I see Kane,’ she declared.
‘By the gods, woman, what is it?’ asked an impatient voice.
She turned to find the man himself on his mount behind her.
‘Where were you?’ was all she could think to say as she was met with his stupid, ridiculous, handsome face.
He didn’t answer her. Instead he gestured with his head towards the boat, questioning.
‘I don’t know.’ She looked back at the other shore where the men and wagons waited.
Kane rolled his eyes at her. ‘The ferry is nothing to fear.’
She heard Henrick board, saying something under his breath about silly women being afraid of stupid things. She ignored him as she looked Kane over. Finally, he was here. She hadn’t realised how wound up she’d been over the past days until now, as her muscles began to relax. Why would his presence comfort her in the slightest? He was a ferocious brute, she reminded herself crossly. He pretended to be a man, but he wasn’t at all. He was a monster who took pleasure in death – not whatever her silly girl’s mind was trying to turn him into.
‘It’s not the ferry. It’s something else.’ She looked into his eyes and saw a flash – remorse, resignation – and her heart sank. She took a steadying breath and her eyes turned pleading. ‘What’s going to happen to me on the other side?’
Kane actually met her gaze. At least there was that. ‘Our Commander wants to meet you. That’s all. You worry for nothing. Viktor and Sorin are there as well.’
She forced a nod and some semblance of a smile, turned, and walked with leaden feet onto the boat. Kane dismounted and boarded after her, and the craft set off along the thick rope that guided it to the small jetty opposite. She clenched the wooden rail, her knuckles white. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew with certainty that when they got across the river, Kane would show that brutish side of himself and betray her, to what or whom she couldn’t say.
She turned her head slowly. Neither Kane nor Henrick was watching her, and the ferryman was focused on the journey. She turned back and looked down into the water. Dark and deep. It wasn’t the best escape, to be sure, but perhaps drowning here was preferable to what awaited on the other side. At least she could choose something, control something, even if that was her own death.
Making her mind up suddenly, she climbed slowly onto the rail, hoping they didn’t notice her actions as she stretched out her arms. Looking up at the open, cloudless sky, she leant towards the water. Everything seemed to happen so slowly as she pitched forward and felt herself tumbling over. She vaguely heard a yell behind her, but it was too late. Hitting the cold water was a shock that made her limbs freeze, but the darkness quickly enveloped her. She didn’t try to thrash or kick, just let the current take her. The water was murky and the light disappeared quickly. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the screaming of her lungs as they were starved. She tried to be at peace as she floated, the cloak and skirts of the dress weighing her down. Her limbs grew heavy and she let out the last of her breath, the bubbles tickling her nose as they sped to the surface.
Suddenly something grabbed her and began to pull her, up and up, and she didn’t have the strength to resist. Her head broke the surface and she gulped in a breath. She coughed up water, spluttering as she tried to breathe. Her limp body was dragged through the current until it felt land. Then she was picked up and set down on a blanket of what felt like moss. She finally opened her eyes. Kane lay next to her, looking equal parts furious and relieved. They were on the opposite shore.
‘Why did you save me?’ she croaked.
‘Why did you wait until the boat to try to escape, you little fool?’
