Enna Burning (15 page)

“Why?” she said.

“For our protection,” said Sileph. “Whenever we go out, we will take one of your Bayern friends along.” He helped her mount a horse, then hopped into the saddle behind her. He rested his head beside hers and whispered, “I trust you, but Tiedan does not.”

Enna looked at Razo. The soldier had angled his horse so that she and Razo could not meet eyes, but she could see a bruise and an unbandaged cut on the side of his face. She thought,
I’ll see Tiedan burn.

“I can ride my own horse,” she said, thinking fondly of Merry and hoping she got home safely.
Home.
Was Ostekin the mare’s home? Was it hers?

One of the soldiers laughed at her request. “And let you gallop off to the Bayern? No luck.”

Sileph laughed, too. She could feel his laugh muscles against her back. “Not yet, my lady. You will earn that right in time.”

“And how’ll I do that?”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her tighter against him, and kicked his horse into a canter.

They rode for a couple of hours, and as the winter sun descended and the horizon burned red, Enna felt more and more uneasy. Being kept in ignorance was as bad as being bound in ropes. She watched the gray ground slipping beneath them and caught a glint of metal in Sileph’s boot. A knife.

“Slow down,” said Sileph at last. The party came to a stop, and Enna looked around madly in the low, fiery light to see where they had come. Over the next rise was a farmhouse. Panic seized Enna as though by the throat. Why were they taking her to this remote place? Did they plan to torture her until she revealed how she controlled fire? Or would they make her watch as they tortured Razo? No, no, she would not let them.

She barely thought about her actions. Sileph dismounted and helped her down. She feigned weakness, wobbled over, and pulled the knife from his boot. In a swipe she brought it to his bare neck, her left hand holding the back of his head, clinging tight to let him know that if it came to a wrestle for the knife she would not let go until she had broken skin. His body stiffened, but he did not raise his hands to her knife hand.

“Let Razo go free,” she said.

The soldiers drew their swords, and three strung and armed their bows. Enna moved slightly so Sileph was partway between her and the archers.

“Untie him, give him a horse, and let him go or I kill Sileph and burn the rest.”

“Enna,” said Sileph.

She gripped his neck tighter and let the blade press slightly. She stood on the balls of her feet to reach him, and her hands were already shaking. She wondered why he did not try to disarm her, but maybe it was the fire and not the knife that he feared.

“Why aren’t you moving?” said Enna. “I said let him go.”

“They won’t move without my command, and I won’t give it.”

“Tell them,” said Enna. She did not look at Sileph’s face. Looking at him was like being on king’s-tongue, and she needed to think clearly. Maybe they would obey her if she lit one of them on fire. Then again, maybe they would kill Razo.

Sileph swallowed against the pressure of the knife and spoke softly. “Enna, I said I won’t. If you want to do this, you will have to try to kill us right now. You might get us all before the arrows hit you or Razo. But whether you live through this and escape or die trying, as soon as word reaches Eylbold, Finn will be executed.”

She strained to make eye contact with Razo, but his rider still held him away so that she could not see his face.

“You don’t have to do that. Just let Razo go. I’ll stay with you, I promise, and you’ll still have Finn to use over me.”

“No.” She was close enough to him to feel that word rumble in his chest. “My orders do not allow it. You must choose now if Finn lives or dies. And if you are going to kill me, Enna, you will have to slit my throat. I am too close to burn.”

He put his arm around her waist and she jumped, pressing the knife a little harder.

“Easy, easy,” he whispered. “I am just showing you that I won’t let go until you kill me or put down the knife.”

Enna looked at the faces of the soldiers in the dying orange light. They would kill Razo if they could, and they would kill Finn. She believed they would have killed her already if not for Sileph. She could see the blood thirst in their eyes, like her own fire thirst now, the heat from their bodies and the horses tickling the exposed skin of her face and neck.

It was hopeless, but she was reluctant to lose her momentary advantage, and she leaned away from their arrows and closer to Sileph. Her head touched his neck, and she looked at the dark intimation of his shaven beard, the hollow of his throat, a small white scar on his chin. He smelled as familiar as Forest pines, as her mother’s soap, and she realized with a cold, achy thrill that she might be falling in love with him. And despite being a prisoner, despite Razo and Finn and king’s-tongue and war and all, being there at that moment was in every way the fulfillment of all she had dreamed and longed for when feeling bored and unimportant on quiet Forest nights. She had a knife in her hand, fire aching in her chest, and a war captain by her side. Had she not wished to do things, to be involved in something bigger than herself, bigger than the Forest?
Oh, mercy, Enna,
she thought,
you would be this absurd.

She grunted in defeat and threw the knife to the ground. Immediately the soldiers arranged themselves in formation, Razo in their center, all arrows pointing at her. Sileph waved them down and then laughed.

“Well, I am glad to get that taken care of.” He wiped his neck and looked with delight at the smear of blood on his finger. “I was expecting something eventually, though I will admit that was a bit intense. What brought that on?”

Enna was not amused. Her anger was built, and there had been no release. And she was irritated at Sileph for tricking her into love.

“Why’re we here,
Captain
?” she asked.

Sileph blinked once at hearing his title instead of his name. “I brought you here to burn.”

Sileph signaled his soldiers, and most followed him on foot as he walked Enna toward the house. “There is something I can’t get out of my mind, and that is the expression on your face when you were lighting fires outside Eylbold. It was pleasure. And relief. I know you must need to do it again, Enna.”

She did not argue, not trusting herself to lie. Even the thought of it gnawed at her belly with excitement. “But why this house?”

“Tiedan’s orders. It’s an empty house, just to get you practicing again.”

Enna’s fingers tingled and her instinct shouted warning. But already the hollow place in her chest was expanding and heat gathered around her, expectant.

“No, I shouldn’t,” she said.

Sileph removed her mitts and hat and loosened the neck of her jacket. The heat now had more skin to touch, and the temptation was rich and inviting. Why was she resisting, anyhow? She was not a prisoner out here. Finn and Razo would come to no harm from this fire. Isi was miles away. She pulled the ready heat inside her, converted it to the idea of fire, and sent it exploding into the roof.

Enna gasped as though she had been held underwater too long and just now could breathe. Flames clawed at the now dark sky. She could feel the heat of the soldiers behind her and used it to scorch the walls. She was tempted then to try the surrender Sileph had suggested and see just how far she could go, but she resisted, still cautious of Leifer’s fate, still clinging to that last unbroken promise. And so, after a few rounds, her sense of the heat diminished, leaving her chest aching, tightened, and cold.

Then the door opened. Two figures fled the burning building, one of them beating at the flames licking his tunic. He fell to the ground, rolling away the fire. The other pulled out his sword in a defensive posture but quickly dropped it when he saw the number of soldiers gathered behind Enna. He fled behind the blazing house and emerged mounted. Before his horse took more than three strides toward Ostekin, a Tiran arrow thumped into his chest. He slumped over and tipped out of the saddle.

“No,” said Enna. She swung around and faced Sileph. “You made me do this.” She slapped his chest. “You made me attack my own people. How dare you?” She kept hitting him and cursing herself until he grabbed her arms and held her still.

“Stop it. Contain yourself, my lady.” His grip tightened, and she stopped struggling. He met her gaze with his hard brown eyes. “This is Tiedan’s work, not mine. How was I to know there were Bayern spies hiding inside. Did you?”

Enna froze, openmouthed. No, she had not known. Why not? Why had she not felt their heat emanating from the building? Perhaps, she admitted to herself, she had wanted so badly to burn again that she had not stopped and tried to sense them.

“Captain,” said Pol. He pointed to where the first Bayern man had recovered from the fire and now ran to his companion’s horse.

“Let him go,” said Sileph. He whispered to Enna, “For you.”

Arrows lowered, and the man mounted and galloped safely away.

.

The company rode back in silence in the quickly dying light. Enna tried vainly to meet eyes with Razo, to see if he understood or if he condemned her. Her thoughts were blazoned with the harrowing image of the Bayern man with an arrow in his chest, but that eased when her sense of heat returned. That empty place in Enna’s chest relaxed, and she was conscious again of the stallion’s heat, the riders all around, and, most of all, of Sileph’s arm around her waist.

On arriving back at the Eylbold camp, Sileph grabbed Enna’s arm and walked her quickly to her tent. His eyes looked over everything they passed without seeming to see anything, and his lips tightened and twitched. He ordered the tent guards to remove themselves a few paces and followed her into the tent.

He held her before him by her shoulders to look at her face, then ran his hands along her arms to take her hands. “That was marvelous. Did it feel good?”

Enna blinked twice and frowned. “Yes,” she said like a question.

Sileph smiled. The result was shocking. His eyes brightened, the creases around his mouth expanded, his jaw widened. Enna felt her insides chill nervously.

He laughed, lifted her by her waist, and turned her around. “Of course it did. You are amazing.”

Enna stumbled as he set her down, and she tried to pry his hands off her waist. Her stomach still made her feel as though she were spinning.

“For weeks, weeks that seem like years, I have been longing to watch you burn, Enna. It is what you were made to do.”

“Well, I don’t know why you have. I’m not forgetting that a Bayern man died today. . . . ” Her argument sounded lame to her own ears.

“Never mind that.” He looked into her eyes with such focus that Enna felt herself flush. “Ever since I saw you walking through the woods of Eylbold, I have thought of you relentlessly.”

“Oh, please.” Her voice cracked a little. She encouraged her indignation to flare up, angry at herself that this was exactly what she wanted to hear.

“I have wanted you to be with me,” he said. “I knew how we would be together, didn’t you? You must feel something.”

He grabbed both her hands between his, and she pulled them loose.

“Still you resist,” he said.

Outside she could hear a call from a sentry, and an answering cry, and the crackling of a near fire. She felt shut out from that world, as though in that tent only she and Sileph existed. She looked down at her hands and saw that they were still, which surprised her, as she felt both excited and afraid.

“You’re trying to trick me somehow,” she said. “I shouldn’t’ve talked so much. I should’ve remembered what I am here. We’re enemies.”

“Why? Why are we enemies?” He paced in his familiar way, and in his earnestness some of the stoic Captain Sileph pushed into his voice. “You have told me yourself, there is nothing for you in Bayern. Your family is dead, your queen does not trust you, your friends are assassins, and that Bayern spy might ride home and report you burn for Tira.”

Enna let her head bow and saw again that fleeing scout, the blazing house, and herself before it, no knife to her back, no arrow aimed at her chest while she burned.

“Oh,” she said, and felt a funereal weight sink her chest. “I burn for Tira.”

“We are not enemies,” he said. “You need not be a prisoner here, not now. Tiedan wanted you to teach me the fire, and he would have counted that a proof of loyalty. No matter that you couldn’t. What you did today, that is our answer. Burn for Tira. Help me end this war quickly. And then . . . ”

His voice softened, losing its tones of exultations, melting down to woo her with the sounds. He held her hand in his, rubbing his thumb against her palm. “And then you and I return to Tira, honored warriors. I will buy you a large house in Ingridan. You will command a circle of servants, and at need we will serve the king in securing the country against foe and calamity.”

He took her other hand. She did not pull it away.

“This house,” she said, “it’d have plenty of hearths?”

He laughed and smoothed the hair from her brow. She remembered his doing that before, during the drugged days, but she had never felt much about it then. His eyes moved over her hair, her cheeks, her eyes, her lips. One hand shifted to the small of her back, the other held the back of her head, his thumb caressing her cheek.

“Hearths and wood,” he said, still smiling. He leaned in closer to her, his voice softening to a whisper. “We’ll keep a hay field just for you to burn. And sticks, and straw, and tents, all the tents you want . . . ”

He kissed her lips. Her eyes closed for a moment, and she thought of nothing but the volume of her heartbeats banging around inside her head. Her hands trembled now in earnest. She hesitated, then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Part of her was still hesitating. She thought of Sileph’s advice on how to burn as Leifer had—
surrender
. She took that advice now, but not to make fires. She let go of fears and just let herself feel.

Enna was in love with Sileph all week. It was a relief to give up the struggle against him. They dined by his fire and walked together through the camp, smirking at how everyone else still saw them as master and prisoner. He was often gone, serving Tiedan and seeing to war matters, and Enna sat alone in her tent and missed him.

“There was no need for the king’s-tongue after all,” said Sileph when he returned.

“Without it, I’d’ve burned you all out of your boots.”

Sileph laughed and kissed her hand.

“And Razo and Finn—they can go free?” said Enna.

“Soon,” he said.

And they continued to ride out. The first time with a bound-and-gagged Finn, but on subsequent missions with no hostage at all. She burned another house north of Eylbold, and this time Enna had Sileph make certain no one was inside. The next day she burned two wagons full of supplies hidden in the cleavage of two hills. Then another house. When it proved to be a Bayern outpost and a spy ran out, she screamed, “Surrender! Surrender!” before he could try to flee and be downed by an arrow.

She was growing used to the pattern, the long, breathtaking rides, the open sky, the thrill of the fire, Sileph behind her on the horse, Sileph beside her as she burned. And when she questioned if what she did was right, he was there to assure her and comfort her and allow her to keep burning.

Then Sileph was gone for two days. Enna paced in the tent, lighting bits of straw and blowing them out again. She could hear a lot of activity in the camp. More soldiers arrived from the south. Weapons were sharpened, wagons loaded with supplies. Around the fires at night, the noise was boisterous and excited. Enna lay on her side, watched the firelight spark through the tent cracks, and fell asleep wishing to join the camp.

It was dark when she awoke, the tent walls a night silver from the watch fires’ glow, the camp quieted to a drowsy murmur. Someone was in the tent. She started, thinking of the hard-fingered soldier, then realizing that this time she could scorch him where he stood. Then, again, she remembered that if she burned, Razo and Finn died.

“Who’s there?”

“Sileph.” He knelt beside her. “Did I wake you? Oh, your skin is cold.” He smoothed her blanket over her, tucking it around her sides.

“What is it?” asked Enna.

Sileph sighed. “It is time to march. My company joins a small army going east at dawn to see to another Bayern town. You are coming with me.”

“To burn?”

“Yes. It is time to burn as you were meant to, Enna, end the war and be done with it. You are our hope.”

Enna curled up on her side. “All right,” she said sleepily.

She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. Sileph stayed beside her, touching her hair, and she did not respond, acting as though she slept. She wanted him to leave so she could decide what to do. It was too hard to think clearly with him so close.
End the war swiftly.
Yes, that sounded good, but she could not burn people. She wanted to cling to this rule and hoped it would somehow save her. Sileph stroked her hair, and Enna exhaled softly.

She found herself thinking of another time in a tent when she pretended to sleep, Finn beside her, his hands curled on his chest.
All I ever wanted was to be close to you.
They were so different, those two boys. Of her, Sileph wanted so much more than just to be close.

After a time, Sileph carefully lifted his hand from her head and whispered, “Are you sleeping?”

Enna did not answer. She heard Sileph stand and slip out of the tent. Immediately she opened her eyes, folded her arms, and smirked at the tent flap. He did not know her so well after all if he thought she could sleep on this night. Before her thoughts could begin to untangle the decision before her, a quiet conversation in the distance stirred her curiosity. She sat up to listen.

“There he is, our sharpest arrow.”

“Captain Tiedan,” Sileph said with respect.

“And the . . . ?” said Tiedan.

“Sleeping,” said Sileph.

They’re talking about me,
Enna thought. She crawled across the tent and peered through the flap.

“Your Pol came to me a month ago with some doubts,” said Tiedan, “thought you were attached to the girl, thought you would not make her burn for us. I told him I would give you some space and wait, and my instincts were correct.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your troops are ready for the morning march?”

“Yes, sir, we leave at dawn.”

“Good. Make as much of a ruckus as you can. Burn farms along the way. If your plan works, my own troops will be marching in two days.” Enna could see Tiedan press his lips together and look at Sileph carefully. “The war is not yet won, but I believe some congratulations are due. I doubted your idea at first, but I see now that your every design, from building the gallows as bait, to the king’s-tongue, to using her little friends, has been a decisive success. I think you will not long remain a fifty captain.”

Sileph nodded once. “I thank you, sir.”

Then Tiedan stepped in closer and whispered earnest words. Enna did not catch them, but she had already heard enough.

It was a relief when dawn came. Enna was tired of hating and cursing herself and pounding the cold ground. A shard of sunlight jabbed through the tent crack. Enna stood, waiting. Sileph entered, handsome, excited, ignorant.

“You are up? Good. It is time. . . . ”

Enna crossed the tent and punched him in the jaw.

Sileph grabbed her wrists. “What are you . . . Are you crazy?”

“You lying son of a goat. I should burn you.” Enna bared her teeth at him. It had felt good to hit him. Very good.

“What are you talking about?” he said, shaking her.

“All the time about Tiedan: Tiedan insists on the king’s-tongue; Tiedan holds your friends as hostages; Tiedan wants you to burn. Perhaps you should tell Tiedan what he’s doing, then, because he certainly seemed to think it was all you last night.”

Sileph stared at her a moment, his lips parted. He blinked and tried to resume his air of confidence. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, stop it, Sileph,” she said, pulling her arms loose and pushing him a step back. “You’ve been lying to me since I was unconscious. I’m a prisoner because of you and only you. You said you let that Bayern scout go free for me. Ha! You probably let him go so he’d tell Bayern I’m burning and I couldn’t return.”

“I—”

“Hurry, quick, think of another lie.”

Sileph rubbed his brow roughly. He shook his head, staring at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he said lamely.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, unimpressed, sounding to herself like her mother when the children had been naughty.

“Have you never lied, Enna?” She started to argue back, and he raised a silencing hand. “Just listen to me for a moment, all right?”

Enna shut her mouth emphatically and glared.

“Thank you,” he said. “I have lied. I have lied and tricked and done everything I could think of to get you into this camp and keep you here. This is the part that you can believe—I want you here. With me. Now that you know that, nothing else should matter. You are still coming with me, Enna. Today. Now. We are burning together and we are ending this war, and then when we are in our big house in Ingridan you can harangue me in front of all the servants about my lying days.”

He smiled at her, his sweetest, handsomest smile, and reached out to take her hand. “Come on, Enna,” he said gently.

She slapped his hand away and laughed. “You are goat kin if you think that’s all it would take. I’m not going, not now, and if you tie me and take me I
will
burn, I swear it, but wherever I please.”

Sileph stared at her with such surprise, Enna wondered if anyone had ever said no to him before.

“Captain Sileph,” came a call from outside, “the troops are ready to march.”

“In a moment,” he yelled back angrily.

Enna glowered. “Go on, Captain, your army’s waiting.”