Page 19 of Kept to Kill
‘Are you ready?’ Quin ground out in a pretense of patience.
When she nodded, they immediately began to move. She grabbed the reins and squeezed with her thighs, swallowing hard and trying not to show fear as her massive horse took a great step forward. The Brothers were leading, eight soldiers on horses in front of her and two more behind her. She was relegated to the back of their Brotherly procession, which didn’t bother her. She wasn’t one of them, after all, despite how she was dressed.
They left the tents of the Brothers’ camp, heading towards the snow-covered mountains that she’d stared at from her casement for so many years. At the beginning, she’d dreamed of traveling to them, exploring them and going further. Now, she turned, looking back at the camp and Vineri’s fortress, which was already some way away down the open road.
So open. She looked up at the sky. Vast. Her chest seized. It was sobigout here. She gasped for breath, feeling dizzy and lightheaded, threading her fingers through the horse’s mane to ground her mind. She leant forward and took a shallow breath though her nose and another. It was calming, she thought, looking down at the ground as it moved slowly past them. She was all right. She just couldn’t look up. She had to pretend, just as she had on her outings with Vineri. Except this time there would be no tower sanctuary after she’d done the only thing she was good at. Perhaps they’d kill her once she’d been of use.
She didn’t find the prospect as frightening as it should be.
‘She doesn’t look like much.’
‘Heard she killed two Brothers.’
‘Sounds like horseshit to me. Look at her. How the fuck would a slip of a girl kill two ofthem?’
She glanced up, her cheeks coloring. The two soldiers, one on each side, were talking about her. She didn’t look at them, remembering how vicious the woman was to her in the square. She supposed she’d have to get used to it. She was out in the world now, and if she remembered anything at all frombefore, it was that most people were cruel. But before any of those memories could materialize, she focused on the present. She promised herself that one day she would think of that time, but not enough of it had passed. It was still too raw, even ten winters later.
So she did the only thing she could. She rode and listened to the two soldiers talking about her as if she couldn’t hear them, growing smaller and smaller with their comments about her, the barbs, their licentious comments about her hair, her mouth, her legs even. When one of them saw her crimson face that she tried to hide, it made them both worse. When one of them leaned over and put a hand on her leg, she froze, pulling hard on the reins to stop her horse in its tracks. She could take anything else, but that was too much.
She gaped at him, her heart thudding in her chest. Was this what her life would be now? Would keeping herself covered not be enough? There was thick material between their bodies. It wasn’t a danger to him. But what about later? One of them would touch her hand or her face unless she made them understand. She had to make them understand.
‘Have you not heard the rumors, you fool?’ She didn’t let him answer. ‘I am the touch of death. Even a brush of your flesh against mine will make your lungs bleed, your brain melt like ice over a fire in your skull. Your blood will flow out of your orifices while you lie on the ground and gasp in agony. I don’t want to kill you, but I will.’
The soldier paled, but his friend laughed, causing the first one to chuckle at her warning. Once his friend turned away, though, his mirth died and he looked at her with a bit more respect.
‘Why have you stopped?’ came Quin’s impatient voice from up ahead, and she saw that the rest of the party were some way up the road. She clicked her horse back into its slow plod, not trusting herself with a canter or a trot on the first day. The Brothers would simply have to wait. As she looked ahead and saw Quin’s piercing eyes, she gave a little snort. It would do that man good to realize that the whole world was not under his command, her included.
* * *
As they traveledto the next town of Westport, nestled at the foot of the mountains that separated the north from the south, Bastian couldn’t help but steal glimpses of the girl. She lagged behind their little party with the two soldiers who’d been assigned to keep her close. She’d seemed quite bright as they left the camp. No doubt excited to leave the site of her captivity for however long, but once they were on the open road, she’d kept her eyes lowered. She hadn’t looked up at the mountains, nor towards the sea as they neared the coast. She rode in silence, ignoring all but the road as it passed beneath her. Her eyes only rose once they were within the town limits.
They entered the main street. It was a small town but bustling at this time of year, with it being the last port before the mountains, which couldn’t be crossed until the spring thaw. The town was set in a small bay with deep waters, so the ships could come quite close to the docks that were built out into it. They passed impressive stone buildings built to stand up to the salty air and the storms that sometimes battered this line of coast. The inn came into view.
Bastian had already sent a messenger ahead to procure the only two rooms for his Brothers and the girl, so they were able to simply leave their horses for the soldiers to take to the nearby stables, where they’d be making their own beds for the night. He envied them. They had a camaraderie that he did not share with Quin and that silent prick Mal.
He took a small gulp from his flask and then scowled as he remembered the censure in the girl’s eyes when she’d seen him do similar this morning. Who the fuck was she to judge the way he wanted to live this mortal existence? He’d put her in her place sooner or later, regardless of the impressive power she had. The touch of death was a sizable gift, one mortals rarely harbored. Usually that sort of power was relegated to beasts far into the Dark Realms where those from here rarely ventured and, if they did, they weren’t making it home to their families, that was certain.
He watched her slide from the horse, her cloak billowing for a moment and giving him a tantalizing view of her figure in those blacks she’d appeared in. He couldn’t believe that Quin had found her something like that to wear, and he was sure Mal wouldn’t have bothered with her at all. He watched her a moment longer before dismounting and grabbing his pack.
Inside, the inn was typical. It had a small tap room and an annex for private dining. Up the creaking wooden stairs, the two rooms he’d taken for the night were serviceable and clean. Each had a small tub for bathing, a hearth, table and chairs, and a bed, of course.
Quin had already given him his orders regarding the woman. They’d take turns watching her at night while they traveled, as she wouldn’t be under lock and key all of the time. What was her name again? Lizy? Bastian had drawn the short straw, so he’d be in her room tonight.
He rolled his eyes. She’d probably be a handful. Women in general, from mortals to goddesses, were very much the same in that regard, he’d found in his experience.
In truth, until he’d come back to this realm, he hadn’t actually remembered much about mortals in general. He hadn’t bothered with them on the Mount unless one of them found his or her way into his presence, and he didn’t obsessively watch them as he knew Gaila did from her tragic window, barred from this realm as she was. She argued that it was because she needed to keep an eye on things, but he suspected it was more a case of wanting what she couldn’t have. Bastian didn’t know the particulars, but the ancient goddess had let it slip once that she had made a deal with someone or something and her end was that she wasn’t allowed here.
Luckily he suffered no such affliction. Since a woman had appeared to them and behaved in a most non-pious fashion, he’d ached to see what this world was like after so long away from it.
He’d been a bit disappointed when he got here and found it not much changed. The people were still the same, squabbling over trinkets, warring, lying, thieving. Bastian enjoyed those things, of course, but he supposed he’d just assumed they’d have grown somehow. But no, they still made the exact same mistakes as their forefathers.
He made his inspection of the room and met the innkeeper downstairs to order refreshments and hot water to wash the road dust away. He watched as Mal quickly herded the woman up the stairs as if she were a sheep that had strayed from the flock. He goaded her, got close enough to make her panic as he went, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he tormented her.
But when they got to the room, she whirled around and slammed the door closed in his face, bolting it quickly, and Bastian couldn’t help the loud laugh that exploded from his chest. Mal gazed down at him, his eyes narrowing as Bastian snickered at his expense. Bastian made a rude gesture at him and watched as his Brother descended the stairs, somehow in complete silence despite the creaking planks, and disappeared out into the street.
Bastian grinned, taking a cup of wine from the innkeeper, and climbed back up and knocked on the door to his room.
‘Go away,’ came a haughty voice from inside and he shook his head. Yes, there it was, that female entitlement. It was so hard being right all the time.
