The Deathsinger: Book 1

Ch. 25: Self Defense

We woke as the sun peeked over the horizon, changing the bottom band of the sky from dusky purple to deep goldenrod. Tievel tried to rouse me gently, but I jolted awake the moment his hand pressed against my shoulder. The touch was too familiar to Jol's as he pinned me against the bed. Panting hard, I locked wild eyes on his face as he hovered above me.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He lifted his hand but didn't pull away, and after a heavy breath, I leaned into him, accepting the comfort he offered. "We need to get on the road and put as much distance between us and this town as possible."

The others grumbled about the earlier than expected wake-up call as they saddled the horse; however, neither asked questions about our hasty departure. I mounted my horse and looked ahead, too afraid I would crumble at any sight of softness from my oldest friend. She would offer comfort. I knew she would, but I could not imagine speaking the words aloud. Not with the shadow of the inn looming over us, and the scent of blood still clinging to my nostrils.

We rode for three hours without speaking. Metal gray clouds crowded in from the west and blocked most of the light, especially beneath the thick forest canopy. It suited my mood. Dark and gloomy. The gusts of wind ripping dried leaves from the branches were almost loud enough to drown out my thoughts. If only Tievel didn't pause every so often to look back at me, I might actually manage a few seconds of blissful oblivion.

"Okay, enough with this," Astreia finally snapped, sawing on the reins of her horse until she came to a standstill in the middle of the road. "Will one of you tell us what happened last night?"

"None of your concern," Tievel said.

I kept my eyes down. Too broken to look her in the eyes. Too broken to speak for myself.

"Morana," Astreia whispered, "Did something happen between you two? Did–did he hurt you?"

Yoko was close enough to hear the question, and she shot the prince a filthy look. One that promised decapitation. Any other time, I might have burst into shocked laughter. Never did I expect Yoko to threaten her prince on my behalf.

"No, he didn't," I answered. I lifted my chin and summoned the bit of courage I had left. "He saved me."

Tievel turned his horse toward us when he realized we couldn't avoid this conversation. The clip of hooves on hardened earth echoed down the lane, and the impact rattled every bone.

"Two men accosted her last night," he said, sparing me from explaining further. "I worried about her when she didn't come to eat last night, so I went to check in on her. I put a stop to it."

"Put a stop to it, how?" Astreia demanded. She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it.

"I slit their throats," Tievel growled, his hair flashing to crimson and his incisor teeth biting into his bottom lip as he stared down at the princess. "Well, I slit one of their throats. Morana handled the other. Would you have done anything different?"

Her mare sidestepped, tired of not moving, but she drew the horse to a jarring halt as she snarled, "I would have killed them slowly by a thousand cuts. Starting with their testicles."

I gaped at my friend. "There was no time to be creative."

She would not meet my eyes, but it was obvious she didn't agree. My fingers went to the braid dangling over my shoulder. Three new white hairs had joined the others. I could have admitted what I'd done to Brun, but it was bad enough that Tievel knew I'd taken another soul. I didn't want to tell the girls, especially not Yoko. Our truce was too new to face such a challenge.

Yoko drummed her fingers on the pommel of her saddle and then nodded as if agreeing with herself. "You need to learn how to defend yourself. Properly. What we've faced on this journey so far is nothing compared to what waits for us in Araphel. After we make camp each evening, we will begin training."