Page 44 of Stars May Burn

He stopped and half turned back to me, his eyes looking as narrow and sharp as ever. I hurried to untie the ribbon in my hair. I’d embroidered the green silk with tiny flowers a few weeks ago. He would probably find it trivial and silly, but I wanted to give him something to remember me by.

“My lord, will you wear this favor? I know you are going to a terrible place, but maybe this will remind you of happier times? It can be a tiny star in the endless darkness.”

He hesitated, then reached out to take the ribbon with such gentleness that my heart stuttered. He held it up to his face and examined the tiny flowers as if he didn’t find them silly at all. The lines around his eyes tightened. I wished for the hundredth time that I could tell what he was thinking.

I stepped right up to him and gestured to the ribbon. “May I?”

He nodded, his intense gaze back on my face. I swallowed and took the ribbon back from him, parting the lapels of his coat and tying it around the loop that fastened the top of his tunic across the chainmail. I could feel his breath on my cheek. I’d never been this close to him before. I looked up into the shadows of his eyes and heard his breath catch. “Promise me you will try to come home to me. Promise me you will fight death, not welcome it.”

His broad jaw tightened. “You need not act the role of a wife. Whether I am dead or alive, you have nothing to fear.”

I frowned. Everyone said he was brave and competent, but it sounded like he had already given up. “Promise me.”

He sighed, looking down. “I will not be a coward. I won’t hide from danger. But”—his eyes flicked up to mine—“if I have the chance to fight death, I will. I promise I won’t die willingly.”

Some of the tension left my body. “Thank you. I will hold you to that promise.”

Then I handed him the glass vial I’d been working on for the last week. I’d had to rush the final stage of processing this morning and borrow some plants from Tom. I wished I’d had longer to perfect the concentrations, but it was something.

I couldn’t meet his eyes again; there were too many intense emotions. “I made this for you—for the campaign. It’s a medicine. If you are injured, apply this to the wound. It will numb the area. It’s a fast-acting coagulant with antiseptic properties that will fight infection and rot. I’m sorry there’s not much. It took me a while to get the sweetwart to flower, and I had to borrow all of Tom’s. I still have so much to learn, but it’s enough to be of some use to you on the campaign. I hope it helps. Next time you must leave, I’ll have more time and skill to be of use to you.” I realized I was rambling and stopped, taking a step back. I took a deep breath, dragging my focus up. “And when you return, I hope we can get to know each other better.”

His eyes snapped back up to my face and he was silent, studying me intently for several moments before he stepped back, bowed his head, and left the room.

The last thing I noticed was the pale green ribbon fluttering against the dark hard lines of his military attire. I hoped I would see him again, whatever he believed. And maybe, in some small way, the vial of medicine might help him.

I waited by the window until the last of the soldiers had ridden through the inner wall and out of sight. Over a thousand men off to a war I could only imagine. I felt sick. Whatever anyone said, I was sure my husband was a good man. I wanted him to come home.

KASTEN

Lord Hans had received the same message from the king, and his regiment was waiting for us at Redcliff—the central point in his rather barren lands—just as we had planned. The sun was starting to set, making the orange rock deepen to red around us. We rode three abreast down the canyon, the deathbed of some ancient river, and every now and again I flicked my eyes up to the scouts who were navigating the treacherous paths above our heads to warn of any ambushes. It was preposterous to think the enemy could have advanced this far already, but if Whitehill could fall, I was past making any assumptions.

I nodded to Lord Hans as he approached us at the rust-colored pool that even the horses wouldn’t drink from. He gave me a wry grin in return as he scratched his grey beard. The man had become more unkempt with age, and he had more than twice my years.

“Can’t say I’m happy to see you today, General.” Neither of us bothered to dismount.

I grunted.

Lord Hans looked back down the canyon as if wishing he could escape. “I fear that not even you will get out of this one, even with your legendary luck. None of us have a chance.”

I shifted in the saddle, becoming emotionless. “Whitehill is a fundamental part of our defense. It is only right that we take it back.”

Lord Hans leaned forward, his saddle creaking, and studied me for a moment. “I don’t understand. You still defend him after the way he has treated you. After all his attempts to get you killed. After he left the men of Whitehill as soulless fodder.”

I suppressed my building anger. The responding surge of hopelessness. “He’s the king.”

Hans pushed his horse closer to mine and lowered his voice. “Kasten, you realize you don’t have to go into this battle. We can’t win. He’s tried to kill you before—you don’t owe him your loyalty. If you went to the capital right now, my men would follow you as well as yours. Thousands more would join. And the way you’ve trained your troops, well, the king’s guards wouldn’t stand a chance. You could take the crown. You could more than live. You could rule.”

I shot him a hard stare. “You shouldn’t talk about treason so openly. I’ve chosen my path. You should choose yours.”

Hans spread out his hands. “Sadly, I am not nearly as influential or as equipped as you. In my current situation, my only chance of survival, however slim, is sticking with you. The king wants me dead too. I have nowhere to hide.”

I sighed, tired of this discussion. “I can’t challenge the king. If I did, Fenland would fall into chaos. The last thing we need right now is civil war with the way Kollenstar is pushing at our border. And I have no desire to be king. I won’t cause the deaths of hundreds more by creating a power vacuum. The people of Fenland deserve better.”

Hans chewed on some tobacco and spat it over the side of his horse. “It’s not right, you know. You showing him loyalty as you ride off to get killed at his orders. But…you’re right. I hate it, but you are. You can’t just kill the king. Fenland would fall.” He looked ahead. “If it doesn’t fall anyway.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Shall we get this over and done with?”

He grinned. “Well, let’s make a jolly good show of it then.”

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