Winter Queen (15 page)

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 demanded.

“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 since 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.

After a time, Ilyenna felt something tiny and warm touch her temple. She pivoted to find Jablana crouched in the bush beside her. For the first time, Ilyenna immediately saw through the fairy’s glamour.

Jablana looked around cautiously before whispering, “Be careful, Winter Queen. There are many enemies searching for you here.” Her wings fanned out to catch the air, and Ilyenna knew she would soon fly away.

“Wait, please. Can you help us through?”

The fairy paused, her wings trembling. “You humans always believe you can change things, that if you chip away long enough at a mountain, it will become a valley. But there are some things that just are. The sun in the sky. The earth beneath your feet. And the Balance. We are natural enemies, you and I—no more compatible than ice in high summer.” The fairy darted past Ilyenna, toward the open air.

She felt tears building up behind her eyes. “Even in high summer, there are glaciers in the mountains!”

The fairy paused before Ilyenna’s face, her wings a soft blur behind her. She looked around once more, as if afraid someone might see her, before flitting away.

Ilyenna huddled inside her blanket, wondering if Tyrans slept in the house her back rested against.

The gray of morning was starting to turn to silver when Rone came back for her. She nearly cried out in alarm when he suddenly appeared from the other side of the house.

He didn’t seem to notice how close she’d come to giving them away. “I didn’t see anything. Let’s go.”

She pressed her back up against the house. “There are Tyrans everywhere.”

Rone squatted beside her. “How do you know?”

She opened her mouth before shutting it again. She couldn’t tell Rone about Jablana. He’d never believe her. “I heard people in the house talking about them.”

“Why would Gen let the Tyrans stay?”

She gripped her knife handle. “He couldn’t turn them out. Not without a good reason.”

Rone pressed his lips together.
“Idiotic politics.”

Terror filled Ilyenna’s heart. “What’re we going to do?”

He glanced around. “We don’t have enough supplies to last another couple days, let alone until the spring feast. Even if we did, I don’t think we could avoid being found for that long.”

Despite the cold, Ilyenna’s palms began to sweat. “So we go in?”

He nodded. “Most everybody’s still asleep.” He must have seen the despair in her face, for he added, “If the Tyrans catch us, Gen can’t do much to help. But if you can just get to the clan house, he’ll be able to claim you’re his responsibility.”

She felt bile rising in her throat. “You mean for me to go in alone?”

“They’re looking for us together,” Rone said reassuringly. “It’ll be less conspicuous if we split up.” He glanced at her hair, then gently lifted the blanket from her shoulders and settled it over her head.

His movements were so tender that she wondered if she’d been wrong. Perhaps he didn’t regret what had happened between them. But then he pressed his lips to her forehead, as a brother might do, and her heart pounded with longing. He rubbed her arms. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. Smile at anyone who smiles at you. Find your way to the clan house and get inside. After that, Gen will protect you. Remember, you’re just a Riesen woman getting an early start on her chores.”

Before she could think up a protest, Rone pulled her to her feet and pushed her around the house. She was suddenly alone. Trying to hide her limp, she started into Riesenholm. He was right, the streets were nearly empty. The village looked so peaceful. Chickens wandered around, pecking at insects. A cow lowed from a barn. Ilyenna was tempted to feel ridiculous for being so terrified.

She walked past shuttered windows and wondered where the Tyran men were. How closely they were watching for her? She saw movement to the side and spun around, but she saw nothing unusual. For a moment, she stood frozen. Then, remembering Rone’s warning, she steadied herself, trying to keep her gait steady but purposeful, her traitorous brown eyes fastened to the ground.

Something darted between the houses again. Ilyenna focused and this time saw Jablana peeking around a corner, desperately motioning her forward. Thank the Balance, Ilyenna thought.

A hand came down on her shoulder. “Are you all right?” a woman asked.

Ilyenna jumped. Her heart pounding in her throat, she forced herself to calm down. “I’m fine.”

She pulled away and followed Jablana between the houses. Coming onto the uneven street, she saw nothing. She started toward the center again, her gaze searching for the sudden movement of a fairy.

But as she turned to look back, something caught her eye. A glimpse of a man behind her. She quickly looked away. He might just be a Riesen clanman, out on business. She glared at the ground. She’d drawn unnecessary attention to herself by looking for fairies. Trying to keep her movements inconspicuous, Ilyenna followed Jablana between another set of houses. Just before she rounded the corner, she looked back just in time to see the man turning after her.

He was following her.

Forgetting Rone’s warning, she rushed forward, ignoring anyone who called a greeting and desperately trying to keep from running full out. Jablana motioned for her between another set of houses, but that would bring her closer to the man following her, the man Jablana obviously couldn’t see.

Ilyenna darted across the street and between another set of houses. She turned back to see if the man was still following her. She was so busy looking over her shoulder that she ran straight into someone. Sidestepping the clanmen, she mumbled an apology and kept moving.

But the man’s hand shot out, gripping her arm. In surprise, she glanced at him. His eyes widened with both shock and pleasure. Ilyenna’s eyes darted to his clan belt.

A Tyran.

She snatched her knife and thrust it forward. The man twisted to the side. Her knife missed his guts and sliced his arm. He cursed and jumped back, grabbing for his axe. He swung it, the flat side aimed at her. She tried to drop, but he adjusted his swing and caught her on the side of her head. Light was extinguished to blackness before returning in maddening sparks that melted into colors and shapes. There was pain, but it was at an arm’s length. Ilyenna struggled to make her mind work. Her head felt as heavy as a river stone. Somehow, she managed to open her eyes.

The blurry Tyran stood above her, satisfaction on his face.
“Hello, little clan mistress.”

Suddenly, hands appeared. One snatched the Tyran’s jaw; another jerked a knife through his throat. The Tyran panicked, trying to grip his axe, but then his face relaxed and he sagged. Ilyenna made out the hazy shape of a man as he caught the dead Tyran under his arms and dragged him into a barn. The man rushed back to her, his bloody hands hauling her up. She struggled, trying to pull away from him.

“Why were you running? I told you not to run.”

She knew that voice. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Rone had been following her, making sure she was all right. Like an idiot, she’d tried to escape him and had run right into a Tyran. But though her thoughts had grown a great deal clearer, her body didn’t seem to be working right. Her feet were sluggish and incredibly heavy. Rone half supported, half dragged her toward the clan house.

A man leaning against a house jumped to his feet at the sight of them. Rone hefted his axe, his face cold as ice. Indecision overwhelmed the Tyran’s face before he took off at a run. Abandoning all pretenses, Rone scooped her into his arms and ran toward the kitchen door. He tried the handle. It was barred. He kicked it repeatedly. “I have need of a healer,” he shouted.

Moments stretched on as they waited. Finally, a disheveled-looking tiam opened the door. Rone shoved past her, kicking the door shut with his heel. “Bar it!” he shouted.