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I shuddered at the premise of the looming destruction, forcing my head up to meet Pa’s eyes. “I have to get back to the Pale Court.”
“I don’t think you should return to this man, whatever he might be,” Pa said, his voice stern, but he eventually nodded. “But yes, you’re not safe here. Talk about a woman who rode with him is spreading from village to village. Little did I know it was my own daughter. Stand up.”
“I made a vow before God.”
“A vow before a god you say is not real, so I can only wonder about its value.” He gave me a come-hither motion. “Stand.”
When I did, Pa grabbed my arm with one hand. With the other, he cupped my shoulder until, with a rapid push, it cracked and slipped back into its joint.
I hissed a dozen curses into the sleeve of my dress. “I need a mule. Better even, a horse.”
“Weak and battered as you are, you’ll fall right off at the first breeze catching on your hair. What you need is rest. A month to rest your shou— Haugh!” Another savage cough sliced through his words, speckling the fist pressed to his mouth with blood that ran along his wrist before it dripped onto the wood. He cleared his throat, wiped his hand on his gown, and tapped my collar. “This needs to come… come off, lest you want your head severed by some cutthroat to get to the stone. Some nippers should get through the bone.”
I nodded, eyes going to the red stains on his white gown. Even I understood that one misstep of a hoof might cause such pain in my shoulder, it might throw me off the horse, never-mind the pounding beat hammering the joint at a canter. Yes, I needed rest. Gathering all provisions would take time.
Time I would use to convince Pa to come with me.
“He could heal whatever is wrong with your lungs, you know.” I grabbed the wet rag from the kettle and washed the blood off his age-wrinkled fingers. “Come to the Pale Court with me, and Enosh can make it right again. I know he will do it for me.”
He stroked my tousled tresses back but shook his head. “I look forward to reuniting with your mother.”
Who was stubborn now? “You’ll wander.”
“Yes, your husband made certain of that.”
My head turned on instinct, unable to face whatever objection I might find on his face. “I’ll need ashes and walnut shells to darken my hair. We cannot use our names wherever we go, and nobody can know that we came from Hemdale or anywhere near it.”
“There’s a quaint fishing village upstream,” Pa said, already reaching for his travel sack. “News is slow to reach there. Two days’ travel. A month of rest for your shoulder.”
“I can’t afford a month.” If Enosh escaped and found the Pale Court empty… “We’ll go to that village to rest and prepare. If we bring your cages along, we can sell fish for coin and can afford a mule. Then we’ll head to the Blighted Fields, but we’ll take the long way around.”
Chapter21
Enosh
There was that smell again—acrid, the mist of mortality wafting around it moist in my nose. My flesh sizzled. Blisters popped against the lick of flames underneath me. Its stench was second only to the sulfurous odor of my burnt hair. Still, I found reprieve in the fact that the dry, bitter reek of ash remained absent.
For now.
Because they’d weaved my broken bones through the spokes of a wooden wheel, allowing my skin and flesh to mend when I was at its highest point.
Ah, torture had come a long way.
Wood groaned.
I dove toward the fire.
Every muscle in my body strung tight until the iron chains around my wrists and ankles clanked. Violent trembles seized my body and a guttural groan lodged from my throat unbidden.Tshhhwent my lashes as they singed away for the hundredth time to the bellow huffing air into the flames.
Pain… so much pain.
But I could not linger on it when I emerged from the flames, eager to leave this rotten place and return to my wife. Memories of our coupling in the forest spread through me, weaving a sanctum for my crippling mind, no matter how frail. My little one had wholly given herself to me, to us, to this inkling of sincere affection between us that went beyond lust and loneliness. Had that not been so?
Matters of the heart confounded me, but not that of flesh and bone. And my wife’s had been pliable beneath me, not a single muscle offering resistance. I needed to return to her. Oh, she had to be so scared, shaken, terrified.
I forced my mind through the fog of agony and anguish, letting it roam over the dead scattered across the lands, commanding them to aid me.
Master. Master.
