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Shield Sworn

Page 45

by Cait Monroe

In a sudden move, Revni leaped, taking the man to the ground.

“Revni, no!” Eavus jumped to his feet just as the man flipped Revni onto her back and bashed her in the face. She kicked, hard and sudden, right between the man’s legs, and scrambled out when he rolled off with a groan, then lunged, going for his knife.

He got to it first.

Eavus snatched up the sword and sprang for them, but Taerus had her arm crooked behind her back, his knife at her throat. Revni whimpered and then cried out—a sound so unexpected Eavus paused.

“I’ll break her arm.” Taerus didn’t raise his voice. “And you might not care, but it’ll take her out of the equation, and then it’s just you and me.”

Eavus hesitated. The man disgusted him, but there was no sense in starting something he wasn’t sure he could finish. “I’m not looking for a fight.”

Taerus pulled tighter on her arm and she screamed again, though Eavus could tell she was trying to hold it in. “Well then, manage this beast,” he demanded, his lips a thin line, the firelight flickering shine off his eyes.

Carefully, Eavus set down the sword. “Revni.” He tried to impart all his thoughts into her brain with his eyes, with his measured words, but he had no idea if she was listening. “You need to behave.” Let me figure this out, he begged. Killing Taerus wasn’t going to help anything—at least not until they found out what he wanted, or what he knew. “He’s a friend,” Eavus ventured, in case Taerus did speak Northern, and at that Revni swung her murderous eyes to Eavus. Trust me, he sent back. She flared her nostrils.

“You can let her go.”

Taerus considered, then slowly released her arm. He held the knife at her throat a moment longer.

“Will she sit still?”

Eavus didn’t know how to answer that. Taerus must have seen the indecision in his face, because he gave Revni a sudden, hard punch to the kidney with his left as he flipped the knife away, then tripped her with his legs, taking her to the ground. He had a knee in her side and was drawing her up by the wrists before Eavus barely realized what happened.

“I’ve got a rope.” Taerus tilted his chin to his side. “We’ll sit more comfortably without distractions.”

Again, Eavus hesitated, flexing towards the sword—but was he really going to murder a fellow soldier over an Isfolj prisoner? Even a deserter. He unlooped the rope from Taerus’ belt—gods, the man smelled even worse up close—and almost handed it over out of habit.

“I’ve got her,” Eavus said instead. He locked her wrist behind her and marched her to the edge of the camp, risking only a heavy, “Please,” in her ear before turning her back to the tree and tying her to it. Rage had settled so permanently on her face that he even sent up a prayer to Caea’s ancestors on his own behalf—please let her understand—but she didn’t fight him.

Once Eavus had Revni secured, Taerus added a log to the fire. Eavus gingerly resumed his own seat, sitting closer to Taerus, his back to Revni.

“Let me tell you what you’re thinking, boy.” Taerus poked the wood with his spear. The flames flared at the knocking off of ash. “You’re wondering who’s out there in the woods with me. You’re wondering who I know, who I’ve made deals with. No one survives long in this wilderness alone. You’re wondering if you can manage two captives at once—if that girl really is your captive—or if she’s not, you’re wondering if it’s worth dragging me into Colcium or wherever else for five gold coins. Do you somehow turn yourself in at the same time? Give them your bullshit story about getting lost and hope they buy it?” Eavus had, in fact, been thinking quite a few of these thoughts. “So let me give you the answers: I know who you are.” The hot tip of Taerus’ spear suddenly pushed into the flesh of Eavus’ bicep. “Ricaeas. A. C. S. P.” Each letter got its own additional jab. “Aleterian Conscript. Service Primus.” Relief washed through Eavus’ muscle as the spear was pulled away, but a stone had dropped into his gut. “Your first stint, and here you are. How’s your Master Caea going to feel about one of his own dear little household having to take your place in battle? I don’t think he’s going to like it very much.”

Eavus flexed his jaw, but said nothing.

“I’ve seen more than you, boy.” Taerus pulled the edge of his own sleeve up, showing his own faded tattoo—only one line instead of Eavus’ two, the final P scratched into an ugly, scarred A.

“You served your full term?” Eavus couldn’t understand it. Lironi, your vertical in your grasp, and then to take on an Additionale instead…

The man pulled his sleeve back down bitterly. “After twelve years, sometimes there’s no home to go back to.” He grinned, a brown-toothed leer that made Eavus’ skin crawl. “But then the gods send you a gift.” He smacked one hand on top of the other. “A short trip on a boat to an island full of hiding spots and pretty girls. I never minded killing for Aleteria. But I’m not going to get killed for them either.” He turned his hard stare back to Eavus. “No one is going to turn me in. So get that thought out of your brain.”

“You approached me. You sat at my fire.”

“That I did. I’ll tell you why. I was hungry.”

“I thought your girl was resourceful.” Eavus practically sneered it.

“She is. Or was. She’s gotten less helpful over the past few weeks, and to be honest, I wouldn’t mind a team-up.”

“What are you saying?”

“You and me,” he said casually. “Your girl looks healthy. And you speak her language.” Eavus didn’t bother to correct him. “She can fetch wood, make meals.” He gestured dismissively in Revni’s direction. “Now, you might not think of sharing, but I’ve been at this a while. I know the land, the layout. Where the other pretty girls can be found,” he offered temptingly. “We’re soldiers, you and me. Sworn brothers.”

Eavus hated how his instincts betrayed his soul—how even the mention of brothers gave him that little swell, that knee-jerk reaction to assist where he could. Eavus swallowed it down with a scowl, but Taerus didn’t notice.

“We could go back and forth, following each other about, seeing who can sell the other one out to the next tribe, the next catcher⁠—”

“Catcher?”