Torgrin moved towards me, and I stepped back, tripping over my clumsy feet.He reached out and pulled me close to him.My hands came up between us, pressing against his chest.His breath fanned over my face and my traitorous heart leaped.
‘I don’t care if you tell Lord Warwick,’ he growled.
‘Then why are we standing here in the dark discussing this?’I studied his face, trying to decipher his expression.We were so close that anyone who saw us might think we were about to kiss.It was the image of where his mouth had been only hours ago that had me stepping back.
‘Are you and the blacksmith together?’Torgrin’s question was unexpected.Why does he unnerve me like this?
I had to stall so I could think.‘Cillian?’I tipped my head to the side, looking into Torgrin’s impassive face.
Cillian was honest and direct with how he felt about me – a complete contrast to the man who stood in the dark with me now.
‘He makes me feel safe, and I trust him,’ I said truthfully.
‘Then he is who you need,’ Torgrin announced as if his permission was required.
‘What I need?I don’tneedanyone!’
‘Yes, you do.’Torgrin took a step back and then another.‘See you at training, and don’t be late.’
Stunned by his abrupt behaviour, I stood unmoving as he disappeared into the night.He had wanted me to know he felt nothing for Bethel, but in the same breath, he encouraged me to be with Cillian.I gave myself a mental shake and headed to the fortress entrance.
Back in my room, I felt restless and far from sleepy.Seeking a reprieve, I immersed myself in the room’s contents.
I flipped through the books left behind by the room’s previous owner.Picking up the half-read book of fables, I turned the pages until I found the drawing of the woman again.Her black hair whipped around her, surrounded by smoke and ash.This time, I noticed writing on the bottom right corner of the illustration in cursive letters:Hecate.I shivered, despite the room’s warmth, and put the book down as if the pages might singe me.
I went through the papers and books on the desk and found more artwork.Some were done with charcoal, some ink, and some even had colour.The artist was very gifted.But who did they belong to?There was one drawing of a horse that looked like Nightmare – it was just a few charcoal lines, and yet I could see the command and grace of my mare captured in the likeness.Other drawings were purely from imagination, with winged gods sitting on clouds holding lightning bolts.The detail of the wings was so exquisite I could almost feel how soft the feathers would be.
My favourite drawings were the landscapes, which were all done with washes of colour.Some places I recognised – like the little stream just outside Murus that I used to bathe in when working in the forge.Many of the drawings were of snowcapped mountains,which I loved the most.There were no snowy mountains in Pedion, so perhaps the artist had been to Ephemeros.
All I knew of Ephemeros was that a reclusive monarch, King Goa, ruled there, and it was a cold and mountainous kingdom that had once been an enemy to Pedion.Something told me that this artist had seen it with their own eyes.The jagged edges of the mountains, the biting cold contrasting with the beauty of the rising sun, or a lone tree hanging on the side of a rocky outcrop.I placed the drawings beside the bed so I could look at them when I woke up and before I fell asleep.
†
I soon fell into a routine at the fortress.In the mornings, I would train with the soldiers.There were no more one-on-one sword fights with Torgrin, but he didn’t let up when I was in his group practi sing my swordsmanship.I showed Atlas the manoeuvres Iain had taught me to escape from, such as headlocks and other holds.I even helped Tomas train the soldiers with the bow.
After breakfast, I would spend time with Webber, helping with the horses.Sometimes Meg would join us and tell stories of Atlas and Torgrin as boys.They had once stolen a drunk captain’s horse, which earned them time in the stocks.Webber had travelled to look after the boys, giving them water and food until they were granted freedom.
Every other day, I would take Ania and Wolfe out of the fortress.We would sometimes travel beyond the city to spend time in the meadows and dangle our feet in the cool water of nearby streams.
The fortress’s inhabitants were no longer anxiously waiting to hear from Capita that the Warwick family must return.It had been weeks without news, and I began to wonder if Bethel and Goodwin would ever be married.
I visited Cillian when I could.Being at the forge was a break from all that was happening inside the fortress.I avoided Bethel and Torgrin, only seeing the captain when I had to at training and mealtimes.Ignoring him wasn’t easy for me.My eyes would find his sometimes, and I would have to get up and leave the table.Poor Atlas found himself in the middle, trying to rebuild a friendship.So far, his attempts had failed.
I had not increased my intimacy with Cillian.He would pull me in for a kiss goodbye with a question in his eyes every time I left the forge.Something was holding me back from taking that final step with him, and I knew he would not wait for me forever.
I was in the stables with Webber when the message came.I had been observing as he checked the health of a foal born during the night.The foal, with its gangly legs and big eyes, was the sweetest thing I had ever seen.
The soldier handed me the message.It was from Dana, a close friend of Iain’s, who he had met soon after he had fished me out of the river.It was Dana who had encouraged me to leave the Red River forge.I didn’t want to leave her caring for Iain alone, but she had refused to let me stay, her words giving me the final push I needed.‘You are twenty winters old, Caris.Iain has kept you isolated for long enough, and it’s time you spread your wings.’She had promised to send a message to the blacksmith in Murus if anything was wrong.Cillian must have told the messenger where to find me.
I read the words, my stomach sinking.
Come home.He doesn’t have long.
Dana.
The message would have taken two nights to arrive, and it would take me another two nights to get back to them.I left the stables and headed straight to the fortress.‘Where is Lord Warwick?’I asked the first servant I saw.
‘He is in his counsel room upstairs,’ she said with a bob.The moment the words left her mouth, I sprinted up the stairs.
