Page 41 of Winter Gods & Serpents

No air. I couldn’t breathe. “Jasmine,” I spoke almost panting, my world still spinning.

“You thought her father was beating her. No, you were determined, even though her father could not kill a hen without flinching. Every day for months you harassed that poor man, in threats and glaring,” he said chuckling in remembrance. “The girl was a farm worker, you could not possibly believe one got so beaten during farm work, so you went and tortured yourself dry with work in her farm and earned as many bruises as she had if not twice as many and when you realised the truth you simply said: oh. Did or didn’t Alaric make you apologize afront his house on your knees for a full day and night for that behaviour?”

“Yes, but that has nothing—”

“Three years ago, at first month of summer a few weeks before your birthday,” he said interrupting me. “Berry was his name?”

“Bernie,” I clarified, knowing another mistake of mine he was about to point out next.

“Yes Bernie, you were convinced that other lad, which I surely don’t remember his name.”

“Clarence.”

“Yes him, you had him tied, gagged and hanged upwards at that tavern in front of everyone and beat him to teach him a lesson for bullying poor Bernie in secret. Not only did you hurt him enough that he remained pale for months at your sight, but you forced Bernie to profess his secret of fancying him to make you stop. In front of everyone at that, his family had not even known.”

“In my ultimate defence as I explained to Alaric,” I began defending my questionable actions, “Clarence was thrice Bernie’s size, spoke like a grizzly, looked feral when he pulled Bernie toward the forest and what about that ridiculous expression on Bernie when he saw him. He looked terrified.”

“He was in love cakes, and my point was that you have a head made of rock and a heart of burning lava. I know it is hard to admit to something and so easy to fall into that panic of assuming, but take a step back each time that happens, look things from a bit further back, see the wider picture.”

“You’re right,” I admitted. “I should have caught Clarence in the forest instead, its wider there.”

“Silly girl,” he said fluffing my hair. “You did well today, we will deal with it tomorrow, you need rest.”

It had stopped. The clutching panic.

I reached for his hand when he made to leave. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

I awoke twice that night panting and sweating and by the third time I decided not to go back to sleep. Foreign environments were a trigger for nightmares, well everything triggered them who was I lying too.

After breakfast with the Lord, we headed once more for the Zone of Peace and dealt with five more cases of trespassers. All Adriatian to my luck, and I had been the most generous all five times. Nesrin and the troll, Larg, had only sighed and shaken their heads, by the last one they had given up all together to persuade me otherwise.

After, I had gone straight to my room without dinner, I scrubbed the retching and the prisoners blood out of my skin till I left it raw, swollen, and red. But I could not scrub or claw away the screams, the scent of souls I’d punished. Revenge was meant to feel heart filling and satisfactory, but nothing could seem to fill the empty. None of the lives I’d taken ever compensated what was taken from me, but I was determined to look for that fulfilment till the day I die. Killing was not difficult, it was what I knew best—what I was raised to do.

When I awoke my head thumped the sound of celebratory drums, hard and fast. Waking up twice from my sleep had not helped me gain a rest either. We gave greetings to Albius who had looked upset when we left, he’d grown warm to our presence as we had to his.

Midway to Tenebrose, somewhat happy to return, a messenger guard reached our group.

“Captain,” he greeted. “His Majesty has sent order for you to head to Kirkwall. There is a new trial to be attended, the Lord is out of town on business and there is no other captains nearby, many have been sent north.”

Sleep and fatigue begun setting over my every limb, my body slightly trembled but I straightened and asked, “How many?”

“Five. We believe one of them is a smuggler, he was caught with maps and pathways out of the wall.”

“Maps?” Cai asked in surprise throwing a glance at me, looking straight through my worries.

“Pieces of it, he tore most of them before we captured him,” the soldier explained.

Cai still took careful peeks at me as he continued, “How can there be maps?”

“There are venting tunnels, sewage and sentry passages throughout Highwall, except for sentries and captains no one should be aware of their location, but they seemed to be aware.”

“There is a mole in Highwall?”

The soldier shook his head at my friends claim. “Adriata might monitor entry but Isjord is mounted on exit, there is no possibility for crossing.”

I laughed at his conviction, coin could buy a soul in Numengarth. For the right price, your life. “What do you think of it then?”