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underlying note of panic in his voice. The woman
who’d held the sword to Taden’s back looked up at
his words and walked over to press the tip of the
weapon against Taden’s chest. Taden winced as the
sharp blade drew blood.
“Stand up,” she said coldly, and the two of them
rose to their feet. Taden kept his hands well away
from the knife at his belt. He hissed as the sword
point sliced deeper into his skin, a red stain spreading
across his tunic.
The soldier’s attention focused on Nathaniel. “If
you don’t do everything I say, witch, I’ll surely run
this blade straight through him.” She met Taden’s
gaze after Nathaniel nodded. “If you escape, I’ll not
wait to burn the witch. I’ll cut off his hands and feet
and let him bleed out.”
“You’ll have no trouble with us,” Taden said
grimly. “But we’re prisoners of war and deserve—”
Taden’s head snapped back as the woman cuffed
him across the face. He tasted blood in his mouth.
“Another word and I’ll cut your tongue out,” she
promised, and then called over her shoulder, “Lowel,
bind their hands.”
The young soldier wrenched his eyes away from
their dying captain. His features were stark with
shock. “Yes, Beka…sir.” He drew two strips of leather
from an inside pocket and hurried behind Taden. He
tied Taden’s hands painfully at his back. Taden
watched closely as he went to Nathaniel, and
hesitated.
“Don’t look him in the eyes, fool,” Beka growled
as the soldier continued to stare at Nathaniel.
The soldier blinked wide, bewildered eyes. “Yes,
sir,” he said, clearly flustered. He went behind
Nathaniel and began to tie his wrists together. Taden
lifted a brow at the soldier’s gentleness, then coughed
violently as if he were choking, drawing Beka’s
attention away from them. The woman watched him
dispassionately, then motioned to the soldiers still
standing over the captain’s bleeding body.
“Get the horses and tie these men to the saddles.
Tightly.”
The two men bowed. “Yes, sir.”
It amazed Taden that the soldiers, both older with
rough beards and cold eyes, were nevertheless careful
as they helped him mount a horse and tied his hands
to the pommel. Despite the woman’s gruffness, Beka
checked the rope herself and loosened it slightly to
relieve the painful throbbing. He risked a glance at
Nathaniel, who was sharing a horse with Lowel.
Jealousy stabbed him as Lowel’s arm went
protectively around Nathaniel’s waist, pulling him
close as the man drooped against him. The other
soldiers were giving Nathaniel anxious looks as if
worried for his comfort.
Taden swiveled back to Beka, but the woman
seemed unconcerned by the soldiers’ behavior and
climbed onto the horse behind him and reached for
the reins. Nathaniel raised his head, and Taden met
his beseeching glance and pressed his lips together.
Nathaniel played a dangerous game with these
soldiers, who wouldn’t hesitate to kill them both if
they felt his manipulations.
Beka kicked the horse to a trot and Taden gripped
the pommel, wondering if he could further loosen the
rope on his wrists. He worked at it as the evening
lengthened into night, to no avail. The moon rose, and
Taden occupied the long night by watching the silver
orb glide through the sea of stars overhead and
descend once again into the trees. He dozed a time or
two with Beka’s warmth behind him, and woke to the
first glimmer of sunrise, and voices.
Taden flinched as the soldier at his back leaned
against him, all sharp bones and tension. “Keep quiet
and do everything you’re told, if you value your life,”
she warned, and slipped off the horse as a patrol of
Sutherlin foot soldiers approached them. “Damn,” the
woman muttered, and Taden’s heart turned over at
the sight of the uniformed general in the group. He
flicked a glance at Nathaniel. His darling sat up in the
saddle, wide awake and alert. Nathaniel’s hand
rested on Lowel’s shoulder where the soldier stood at
his stirrup.
Beka moved forward and bowed. “General.”
The man gave her a cool look; the blue officer’s
uniform emphasizing his height and muscular frame.
He jerked his head towards Taden. “What’s this? And
where’s the captain?”
Beka seemed confused and passed a hand over
her eyes. “The captain?” She looked at Taden still in
the saddle. Her bewildered gaze traveled to
Nathaniel, and her eyes widened.
“The witch!” she said, her hand going to her
sword hilt. She pointed a shaky hand at Nathaniel.
“That man is a witch, General Sether. He burst the
captain’s heart and befuddled us.”
Taden watched her, horrified by her accusation,
as she returned to him and grabbed his jacket, hauling
him from the saddle. “This man is his friend.”
Taden stood awkwardly, his wrists still bound to
the saddle, and fought the fear numbing his mind.
Would they kill Nathaniel now? Beka drew her
sword, pressing the tip of it against Taden’s blood
stained tunic once again. “Lowel, bring the witch
here.”
The young soldier helped Nathaniel from the
saddle, speaking softly to him while he cut the rope
binding Nathaniel’s hands. They approached the
group of soldiers and stopped within paces of Taden.
Nathaniel kept his gaze on the general, though Taden
desperately wanted to catch his eye.
Sether planted his hands on his hips and raked
Nathaniel head to toe with his gaze. A sneer curled
his lips. “Witch? Are you a weapon for the Netherlin
army? Pathetic, if so. They must be a desperate
people.”
Anger darkened Sether’s face when Nathaniel
remained silent. Taden’s heart faltered as the general
took a menacing step towards the youth. With a quick
movement, Lowel leaped in front of his prisoner, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]