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Varrick looked at Argus. “Have a blanket thrown over him and see that he is watched at all times, especially after he wakes.” He glanced over his warriors. “Rest the best you can. We leave at dawn.”
The warriors grumbled among themselves as they walked off to find any place in the room that would provide some rest.
“Rest. You will need it,” Varrick said.
“What else will I need?” Fia asked, worried what it was he wanted from her.
Varrick draped the cloak over his wife’s shoulders and gripped the edges tight after settling it around her, then yanked her close to him to whisper, “Dark power, for if you truly do not possess it, then you are of no use to me.”
* * *
Fia triedto stifle another yawn, one of many since leaving the monastery hours ago, but failed. She had slept little, her arms cushioning her head on the table where she had sat a good portion of the night.
Brother Luke had woken, though not fully, before dawn and did not take the news well. He had pleaded, with what strength he could muster, with Abbott John to not send him away to be devoured by evil but allow him to remain at the monastery and be cleansed no matter what it took to do so. He continued to beg for mercy as he was taken to the cart and placed in it. After that, he dissolved into prayer and had not stopped since then.
Fia felt for the man’s plight. He woke to find his whole world turned upside down, but what concerned her more was that someone at the monastery had purposely wanted to harm the man. But why? Why would someone want to harm the monk? And did it have anything to do with her presence or Varrick’s?
She yawned again and shifted in the saddle. She was tired in body and mind and wished for a soft palette to sleep on and warmth. It had snowed a good portion of the night depositing a good amount of snow, and a trickle of snow continued to fall, though the gray skies warned it might turn heavy again.
They traveled at a slow pace which made it that more difficult to stay alert since the sway of the horse lulled her to the point of sleep. Her head had bobbed and snapped up several times, catching herself from dozing off. But she feared at some point she would simply just fall asleep and chance falling off her horse. She had to keep herself awake, she had to, but her eyes refused to obey her.
“Fia!”
Her head snapped up and she turned with a yawn to her husband.
He reached out and brought her horse to a halt along with his own.
Fia noticed then that Argus had stopped his horse nearby as well. She worried something had happened and she had missed it. She was about to inquire when her husband reached over to her, snatched her around the waist and lifted her off her horse and onto his, settling her sideways in front of him.
He gave a nod to Argus, who took the reins of her horse and rode off.
“I am surprised you haven’t fallen off your horse with as many times as you have fallen asleep,” he said, shifting her to rest close against him and swinging his cloak out from his side to close it snug around them both.
Fia sighed, the warmth of his body and his fur-lined cloak and the sway of the horse lulling her. She was too tired to protest or to keep her head from bobbing. So, having little choice, she surrendered and rested her head on her husband’s chest, seeking the comfort he offered.
He needs you and you need him.
She tried to make sense of what the voice in her head told her. He had made it obvious that he needed her, though not the reason for that need. That she needed him, she supposed was presently true, for he was keeping her safe… but for how long? Or could the voice be implying something different? She was too tired to give it further thought.
The myth, listen for the myth.
“The myth,” she mumbled as she dozed off.
Varrick glanced down at her. She may have mumbled but he had heard her clearly enough. She had said the myth. That she acknowledged it even in sleep and without him even saying a word about it confirmed his wise decision to seek a witch’s help but not any witch, a powerful one, and from what he had heard, many believed Fia a powerfully skilled witch.
However, it continued to disturb him that Fia had not been the woman he had expected. She was a far kinder soul. Even though Brother Luke had been unkind to her, it had not stopped her from offering to help him. How could a witch possess such a kind heart? And why did she have to possess such beautiful features?
It was difficult not to focus on them, be captivated by them, want to linger in her beauty. But wasn’t that part of her powers to seduce a man with simply a glance, a smile, a touch? Or now, holding her as close as he did, her warmth mingling with his, her body resting comfortably in his arms as if she had been shaped perfectly for him and him alone.
His nostrils flared with annoyance, and he realized his mistake of drawing in her scent. How was it that she smelled so enticing? He could almost smell the freshness of spring on her when the flowers bloomed and filled the air with their sweet scents and the sun kissed the earth with a breath of warmth. How could she smell like spring when they were in the dead of winter?
He shook his head. He could not afford to think that way. He could not afford to let her entice him and yet he could not help but enjoy the feeling and scent of her in his arms. For a moment, a sheer moment, he wondered what it would be like to truly have her as his wife, to kiss her, touch her intimately, couple with her.
He shook his head again. A foolish thought and one he allowed himself because he wished to find a wife, though not just a wife, a woman who would obey and submit to his word. He wanted a woman who would give him something he had never known… love.
Varrick was glad his wife continued to sleep since he continued to enjoy having her there in his arms. If it was her magic that made him feel that way, he would linger in it for now and release it when he released her. Her powers might be strong, but his resolve was stronger, and he had no fear of falling under her spell.
It was a few hours later that Argus approached. “A mishap up ahead. A husband and wife, she round with child, and his leg is broken. It does not look good.”
