Page 23 of The Healer and the Warlord

“I am more powerful than he, and he will learn,” I promised darkly.

Alyx nodded, but I did not miss the flicker of apprehension in her eyes before she looked away. Even when the riders of Clan Tibel had attacked, and I would have had no issue killing them all and skinning them for her pleasure in punishment for daring to touch her, she had chosen a different path. She had kept them alive, finding an alternative to spilling blood while still protecting herself.

The violence that came so easily to me was not in her nature, and I could not bring myself to want to change that. I tried to distract her from thoughts of bloodshed.

“When Lord Deryn does agree to let you stay at my side, I’ll move into a larger tent where we will be comfortable together. I’ll show you how well I can actually cook when I don’t just have my meager traveling supplies. And the Clan will welcome a healer of your skill,” I declared.

At this, she did smile. “I look forward to it.”

Chapter twelve

Alyx

Mountains appeared on the horizon, stretching farther and farther up toward the sky the closer we rode. I had seen the peaks bordering the desert before, but rarely had I come this close. Still, we rode nearer

The scent of woodsmoke and the yips of hunting dogs signaled that we approached an encampment. Almost a week of riding without Kelvar’s clan in sight, and now it appeared only a day’s ride from the oasis where we had rested.

My spine stiffened as I sat before Kelvar on his horse, approaching the large circle of tents in the distance, nestled right into the base of the mountains. Despite his assurances that he would make his Lord see reason, the threat of violence remained palpable in the air. Dread filled my belly, heavy and potent at the thought of bloodshed on my behalf.

But I trusted Kelvar.

As we passed through the first ring of tents, it was as if a shadow fell over us, and my sense of foreboding grew. Clan encampments were usually full of life, from children playing to horses nickering. While Clan Katal’s camp was not quiet, there was the undertone of tense anticipation in all the voices drifting on the air.

Kelvar sensed it too, if the way his arm tightened around my waist was any indication. Still, he sat proudly and did not slow his mount as we headed toward the tallest tent in the encampment: Lord Deryn’s. It stood just at the base of the mountain, shadowed by the peaks looming over head.

We reached the clear area surrounded by the largest tents, and I frowned as people abandoned their fires and ducked out of their own dwellings to watch. While Clan Padra’s Warlord was often greeted with cheerful waves and shouts of greeting when he returned from a battle, Clan Katal watched Kelvar warily. It was as if they feared his power. I wondered if that was why Lord Deryn sent him away so often.

We stopped in front of the largest tent. At the top, the banner bearing the black and white viper of Clan Katal flapped in the wind.

The dread that had bubbled sluggishly in my belly boiled up into my throat. I shrank back into Kelvar, almost wanting to suggest that we turn and leave.

But he was determined. He hopped down from Dileas’s back and approached Lord Deryn’s tent. Before he could reach the entrance flap, Lord Deryn himself emerged. He stood a few inches taller than Kelvar, but where Kelvar’s shoulders were wide and imposing, Lord Deryn’s bare arms were wiry and lithe. His shaved head reflected the evening sun, revealing swirling lines inked over his bare scalp.

“You took long enough,” he greeted Kelvar without preamble.

I frowned. It did not seem wise to treat somebody so powerful with such disdain. But Kelvar did not seem perturbed, almost as if he were used to the treatment.

He wrapped his knuckles to his temple in a sign of respect to his Lord as he answered. “The desert was challenging,” he admitted, “But she has rewarded us with a great gift.”

Lord Deryn’s gaze drifted to me where I still sat atop his horse. Dileas pawed at the ground, and I tried to sit proudly.

“The spawn of Lord Avis will fetch us a mighty price indeed. He is notoriously weak when it comes to his daughter,” he sneered.

The way he looked at me set my teeth on edge, but Kelvar cut in before I could think to speak.

“We will not be ransoming her back to her father,” he declared.

Lord Deryn’s face purpled, but Kelvar pushed on as if he hadn’t noticed.

“I will be marrying Alyx, and her healing abilities will make her an invaluable asset to our people.”

I almost fell off his horse at the sudden declaration. While he had made it clear that he would keep me at his side, this was the first time he had mentioned marriage. But as he glanced back at me, I couldn’t help the beginning of a smile that quirked my lips at the thought—at the way he barreled into a future with me with no second thoughts or hesitation.

Lord Deryn spluttered and spat. “I have no use for a healer! We need a weaponsmith, one her father will surely allow us to take for his daughter’s safe return.”

Kelvar’s fingers drifted toward the hilt of his saber, but still, he tried to reason. “I have never asked much of you, my Lord. I have let you command my power as you willed—wield me as a weapon against your foes. I am asking you to grant me this one wish. Let me make Alyx my wife.”

I didn’t see the men creeping up on my side until it was too late. Dileas reared in response to my sudden panic, lashing out with her lethal hooves. As her actions caused me to slip back, one of the men grabbed me by the leg and yanked. I slipped from Dileas’s back and hit the baked earth with a thud so hard it made my eyes water.