Page 109 of The Silversmith

“Fuck my arm,” he grumbled, grasping my hand, holding my knuckles to his lips, kissing them. My insides fluttered despite the flaming poker in my side.

“Is our horse okay?” I asked, distracting myself.

“No.” He carefully wrapped another length of bandage around my torso. “The arrows were poisonous. I got mine out fast enough, but she’s…” A quick glance toward where she lay, and he shook his head. “They got her twice. One in the shoulder, one in the neck.” A few more wraps of the cloth bandage around my waist, and he was done. “This will have to do for now.” He lowered the hem of my sweater over the bandage to cover me back up. “I know of a cabin a few hours east of here on foot. No one will be there this time of year. It’s not as far as I intended for us to make it tonight, but it’s safe and remote. We can rest there.”

I stood with his help and limped over to the black mare. Our bags were still attached to her saddle.

Her eyes were closed. Peaceful, as if she was sleeping. But her strong chest didn’t rise and fall and no misted breath blew past her nostrils into the cold air. Blood trickled and glistened out of each of her wounds.

“Did she feel much pain?”

“From the initial arrow hits, yes.” He kept a firm grip on my elbow while I knelt beside her. “But she fell asleep, and the poison stopped her heart. She went peacefully.”

Cheeks wet with tears, I studied the long, powerful form of a creature that had been so wild and free. I would hold on to the sweet moments she had given me. And when I dreamed of freedom, I would think of her. It wasn’t right for her to leave this world empty, not after what she had gifted me.

“What do you need?” he asked, seeing me search for my knapsack.

“My bag.” The cold dirt crunched beneath his feet as he reached for it. “There’s a blanket inside—violet and maroon.”

He reached over the mare’s body, opened my bag, and withdrew the quilt. “This is from your home in Warrich.” He knelt down at my side and rested the quilt in my open arms.

“I don’t know if that was ever my home.” I unfolded the quilt and draped it over the mare’s head and neck. “Is it stupid? It was—” I sucked in a tattered breath. “It was mine and Ollie’s. I just want her to have it.”

“No.” He intertwined his gentle, calloused fingers in my disheveled hair and kissed the top of my head. “Not stupid, Ella.”

I rested my hand on her side, shut out my tears, and prayed, “May you outrun all your burdens in the land of the gods.”

For me, I added in silence, hoping that Soltum, God of Animals, would find a way to get those words to her, wherever she was. Outrun them for the both of us.

I turned to rise, using his thick, solid arm as support. “I don’t know how far I can walk.”

“We’re not going to find out.”

The ground slipped out from under me, and I found myself cradled in his arms.

Chapter twenty-six

Idon’t know how long he carried me. Hours, maybe. The burning pain above my hip had me struggling to keep conscious and the crunching of gravel and dirt beneath his heavy boots lulled me to sleep.

By the time we arrived at the cabin, the air around me was pitch black save for the bright stars and waxing moon in the nighttime sky.

He woke me with his deep, soothing voice. “We’re here.”

Wood creaked and groaned beneath our weight. The entire cabin rattled from the brute force of his kick against the door. It slammed against the wall, and he carried me across the threshold.

“Was that necessary?” I winced at the pain my laughter caused.

“I have no free hands.” The traces of a smirk illuminated his face, even in the dark.

“Whose house is this?” It was a clean, single room with a tiny kitchenette, double bed, cast-iron tub, toilet, and hand-pump faucet.

“Damond’s family,” he answered, setting me down on the bed. “No one will find us here.”

“Damond is your cousin.” He kept his hands on my ribs to ensure my balance as I settled and cringed at the resurging pain. “So your family, then?”

He grinned and knelt down before me. “Distant cousin.”

Before I could object, he was unlacing my boots, then removing my wool socks. I glanced up to see a full-length mirror resting against the opposite wall of the cabin. Dusty, but clear enough that I could see our reflection. And his reflection was a sight to behold. Kneeling, head bowed as if in surrender to a fleeting salvation he longed to possess.