Page 50 of HeartTorn

Halamar catches my eye. “He’s telling them if they want to punish anyone for treason, it is his blood which must be spilled. You, he says, are innocent. It was he who broke the law by bringing you here. You were given no choice. So if someone must die, it is he.”

Horror clutches my heart. It’s one thing for Taar to risk his life in mortal combat, but this? It’s too much. I start to rise again, struggling against Halamar’s hold, but he’s far too strong for me. “Wait now,” he growls, close to my ear. “Your husband is not unloved by his people. The elders won’t give him up easily, angry though they are. They know what his life means for the survival of all Licorna. Wait. Wait.”

I watch in an agony of suspense and horror while the elders exchange angry murmurs. All the while Taar stands there, that vicious blade lightly pressed into his skin. A bead of blood forms and rolls to his collarbone. Sickness churns in my gut.

Finally the eldest holds out her withered hand and speaks. She seems to be imploring Taar to set aside the knife. “Ah, see?” Halamar whispers behind me. “Halaema would not want her own licorneir to end up hearttorn.”

At first his words mean nothing to me. Then I suck in a breath. Before me sits Elydark’s former rider from back before he bonded with Taar and took his new name. No wonder she sounds so desperate. It is as Taar says—the bond never fully dies.

Slowly Taar lowers the knife. Another exchange of words, and he hands it back to Gantarith, who scowls at him almost petulantly. Elder Halaema shakes her head, obviously distressed. When she speaks again, however, Halamar squeezes my shoulder slightly. “See? The gambit paid off. You will live, little human. The elders have agreed that you may stay in the Hidden City untilsilmael.The moment your bond is broken, you must depart, but no harm shall come to you so long as you honor Licornyn law and submit to the rule of yourluinar.”

While I don’t much care for the sound ofsubmit,I cannot deny the relief which floods my body. A smile breaks across my mouth, but when I catch Elder Halaema’s eye, I hastily stifle it and bow my head once more.

Taar returns to my side, holds out a hand to me. “Come,zylnala,” he says softly. “Let us leave before they change their minds.” He helps me to my feet and draws me close, murmuring, “Bow your head and clasp your hands again in the same manner as before, over your heart. Then turn and walk with me. Keep your eyes down.”

I go through the motions as bidden. The elders say nothing, and I feel their old eyes on me as I turn to walk with Taar. When we are halfway to the door, I look up at him and start to speak. “Not now,” he interrupts swiftly. “Wait until we’re out of here. Then I will tell you—”

His voice breaks off abruptly as the door flap flings back, admitting a burst of sunlight. A figure stands silhouetted in the opening, tall and threatening.“Luinar!”he cries out in a loud voice.

Tension shoots through Taar’s hand. “Kildorath?” he says. “Is that you?”

The figure strides into the Meeting House, swiftly approaching. Then he stops. His eyes flash as they meet mine. The expression on his face, illuminated by a patch of sunlight, transforms from shock, to horror, to utter hatred.

In a single, fluid motion, he draws a knife from his belt and lunges straight at me.

24

TAAR

Instinct drives my body to action long before thought catches up. In two quick strides I intercept Kildorath’s approach, angling my body between him and Ilsevel. I have no weapon on me, but I dodge his blow, catch him by the wrist, and wrench his arm behind his back, simultaneously forcing him to his knees. His knife drops to thedakathfloor even as his roar fills the dark space around us.

I bend over him. My teeth snarl close to his ear. “If you raise your hand in violence against my wife again, I will cut your head from your shoulders.”

Some distant part of me is shocked by the sheer violence of my words. They rip from the core of my soul, driven by some force that seems almost unconnected from me. Now they ring in the stunned silence of the Meeting House. Though I spoke softly, I feel the shock from the elders, from Gantarith, from Halamar. They all heard me loud and clear.

Kildorath pants hard. He twists his head, stares up at me. His eyes flare with fury. “How could you do this? How could you betray your people so?”

“I have betrayed no one,” I answer coldly, without relaxing my grip or the painful pressure on Kildorath’s arm. “I have always put the needs of Licorna and the Licornyn first, and I always will. That doesn’t mean I can spare no compassion for anyone else.”

“Compassion? For a human?”

It’s clear this is not a worthwhile path down which to continue. “I don’t care what you think of my bride, Kildorath. Irequire only your loyalty to myself and the elders of this council, who have determined she should remain safe among us until the night ofsilmael.”

Kildorath curses viciously. His muscles strain, searching for some weakness in me, some opportunity to break free. If he attacks me here and now, he will be acting as a traitor to Licorna, and his life will be forfeit. I can’t afford to lose him—my friend, my most loyal companion, and near-brother.

“Enough of this!” Movement across the chamber draws our eyes back to the dais. Elder Halaema rises slowly, ponderously. With painful precision she moves down the dais steps, her shoulders hunched, her robes dragging behind her, and yet there is something regal about her bearing, some remnant of the valiant warrior she once was, still clinging to her. She makes her way down the center of the Meeting House until she stands before us, her bowed head nearly level with Kildorath’s where he kneels. “Young Taarthalor has spoken the truth, Kildorath Hardorthane. He has made his case, and we have agreed it would be best for all concerned that his bride remain unharmed until such a time as he can break this unfortunate bond. I call upon you now, son of Markildor, to honor the decision of your elders and submit to yourluinar, even as you have sworn to.”

Kildorath curses again, spitting the words on the dirt floor. Twisting in place, he glares up at me. I know we are both remembering the last time he knelt before me and swore fealty. It was days after Shanaera’s death, when I told him how I’d been forced to slay his sister on the Agandaur battlefield. To slay her before she slayed all our friends, lost as she was to the ravages of virulium.

Kildorath was devastated. If there was any soul in existence who loved Shanaera more than I, it was her younger brother. The two had been devoted to each other, and I feared Kildorath would follow her on her path into virulium madness.

But when I commanded him to give it up, Kildorath obeyed. He, and all those faithful to my rule, suffered the ill effects of virulium-purging along with me, leaving us weak and in pain and wishing for death. We came through it, however, stronger than before. After such a show of loyalty, I had not believed anything could stand between me and Kildorath. I would trust my very life to this man without question.

But I had not reckoned on Ilsevel.

Kildorath bows his head at last and sags in my grasp. “I will honor the will of the elders,” he growls, then heaves a great breath. “And I will serve myluinar, according to my vows.”

I hesitate for a count of three breaths before releasing my grip and stepping back. I’m braced for him to make a dart for Ilsevel, but he does not. Though he shoots her a venomous glare, he gets to his feet and stands aside, head low, shoulders bowed. “Are the rest of the riders here as well?” I ask, eager for word of my Licornyn.

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