By Force (12 page)

“I promise you that my good behavior will continue on one condition.”

He sighed and leaned in even farther until our faces were uncomfortably close. He stroked the frizzy hair in his braid. “I’m listening.”

“Don’t you think it’s only fair that you tell me what it is that I’m submitting to? Why me?”

He nodded slowly. We sat in silence for a minute or two while he considered what he would tell me. I didn’t expect him to share every last detail, but he had to give me something. I’d still try to escape when the moment presented itself, but I would comply when their heads weren’t turned.

“Why are you taking me to your king?”

“Why indeed?” He grabbed a piece of my bread and popped it into his mouth. After a loud gulp, he pulled his chair over closer to mine and said in a whisper, “Contrary to what you may think, I don’t know the king’s motives. The only thing I can tell you is that he believes you to be fey and intends to use your magic. For what? I have no idea. I am by no means his favorite lead warrior so he only tells me what I need to know to fulfill my duties. His mistrust of me was the reason James traveled with us.”

“Fey? That’s absurd,” I threw my hands up. “He’s mistaken. Neither my mother nor father is fey. Absolutely not. And I am far from magical. I don’t even believe in fairies.” I folded my arms across my chest, indignant, and leaned back in my seat.

“You heal too quickly for a human,” he said with an arched brow.

“That hardly means I’m fey.”

“It means you are magical, but as to whether you’re a fairy or not remains to be seen.”

“I’m human.” Of course I was. I’d lived on Copaxa my entire life.

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I am. And when the king meets me, he will realize this, and he’ll have to let me go.”

“Sorry.” He cupped his mug and stared at the water within. “If you’re not fey, he may do much worse to you than James attempted. King Knolen dislikes Copaxans. The only reason our people leave you and your lands alone is because your king and queen are subservient to him. That, and we have a really happy trade relationship that suits our king’s needs.”

I felt sick as tears threatened to fall from my eyes. Now more than ever it was apparent that I needed to leave these men and leave them fast. Whatever affection I had stirring for them deep inside meant absolutely nothing. These men cared nothing for me. They intended to hand me over to the king and allow him to do whatever he wanted with me. They would walk away and not bat a lash for the fate they doomed me to. That was how much they cared about me.

“Do all humans cry as much as you?”

“Ugh!” I moaned, realizing my cheeks were wet yet again. “Come and get me when you’re ready to leave.” In my life, I had never before felt so wretchedly helpless and weak.

I returned to the small stream where Nole had tackled me earlier. The sound of the water’s movement soothed me. I closed my eyes and imagined myself deep beneath the water, being carried along with the stream to the mountains. Thinking about traveling brought my mind back to the gypsy.

The gypsy.

She said my fate was sealed. Was this it? Was I meant to be killed by a king in a foreign land? And why would she tell me that I would always be safe in Faemell? If my fate was sealed, then why give me that information? She must have seen me traveling there. That was the only explanation. Was I really fey? Was that even possible?

“You look deep in thought.”

I looked over my shoulder at Remmie. He was only a few feet behind me. I squinted up at him as the sunlight beamed all around him. “Oh, it’s you.” I didn’t bother trying to hide my contempt. I hated him more than the others, perhaps because I cared for him the most. It was wrong. So wrong. Not only bad for my health and sanity, but mostly for my conscience.

“You’re cross with me.” He looked confused, as if he couldn’t possibly conceive of a reason. This infuriated me further.

“I’m not cross at all. I simply have no interest in your company. I am sorry if I gave you the impression that I did.”

“This is about your family?”

The thought hit me like an avalanche. I stood and pushed past him, but Remmie caught me by the shoulders. He looked down at me, his eyes tormented and glassy. I felt my anger slipping away. I couldn’t let myself get swept up in his handsome face or the way his hands on my flesh made me feel weak in the knees or ache deep in my chest.

“I’m truly sorry, Isame.” His words were so delicate they felt like a brush of a feather against my cheek.

“I know you are.” I was sure that he was.

“I can’t change what’s been done. I can only try to make amends.”

I should have been pounding on his chest, striking him down, making him bleed, but all my body wanted was for him to wrap his arms around me and show me comfort.

Reluctantly, I raised my hands. I wanted to feel the curves of his cheeks, to bring his face closer to mine. But before I could make contact, I balled them up and dropped them to my sides. I ducked under his arms and ran. Each step away from him drove daggers deeper and deeper into my heart.

* * *

We set off early that afternoon. I rode with Nole, a few minutes ahead of the others, who got held up while gathering some last-minute supplies. For the most part, Nole and I rode in silence. I could tell he was out of sorts. His stomach kept gurgling and his alcohol-tainted scent had intensified.

I waved my hand in front of my face. “You smell like a tavern.”

“I promise you I feel worse than I smell.”

I doubted that. His breath was so strong it could have caught fire. When I looked back at him, I saw he squinted his eyes against the blinding sun. I tried to ignore the smell that surrounded him and focused on the next leg of our journey, which was sure to be grueling. The Shenan Mountains. There were six peaks in total, and each was covered in large jagged rocks frosted with snow. Two of them broke through the clouds. At the base of the third and fourth mountain sat a trail that seemed to curve between them at ground level but, in the distance, a wall of snow blocked the path.

“Avalanche,” I mused to myself.

“I lost three men on that trail.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see him stare off in the distance. Given the way he and his friends acted like brothers, I was certain their loss affected him deeply.

He cleared his throat. “We’ll have to go over the mountains this time.”

I wanted them to go over. I planned on making my escape there, but as I looked up at the sky-scraping mountains my stomach started to turn. It seemed impossible we’d cross them and live. We would die from the cold if an avalanche or an ice monster didn’t kill us first.

As we pushed on, the road narrowed and the temperature dropped. I rubbed my arms and fell back onto Nole’s chest as my breath formed small clouds in front of my lips. Fortunately, Nole radiated enough heat to make the cold bearable.

We stopped at the base of the smallest mountain so the men could dismount to pull fur from their satchels. Brown and black fur decorated their bodies while black rabbit pelts and fur were secured with thin rope around their boots.

Remmie wordlessly helped me down from Nole’s horse and began wrapping my body with fur before covering me with a hooded bearskin cape. Sweat coated my body before he finished. I had no idea how he expected me to move from under the added weight. I felt as limber as a rock.

“Isame, you’ll ride with Remmie up the mountain. He’s the lightest. The mountain ledges aren’t the sturdiest and we need to disperse our weight.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but snapped it shut. If I was going to die anyway, I preferred to be in Remmie’s arms than in any of the others. The thought brought heat to my cheeks.

“Why are your cheeks so red?” Otis asked with a smile.

“They’re not!” I snapped. “It’s cold.”

“Sure it is.”

Except for a thin ledge around the side of the smallest mountain, the Shenan Mountains were impassable. Sharp blue-gray rocks protruded from the mountain face like massive spears, and water trickled from small cracks in the surface only to settle into layers of ice over the preexisting ones.

We traveled in single file. The horses did not traverse the uneven and jagged surfaces easily, and they often lost their footing. I wondered how long the men would keep the horses before turning them loose.

Remmie usually rode with one hand on the reins, but today he used both, his arms resting on my lap and his body pressed against my back. I was too scared to push him away. I leaned into him and refused to look over the edge. At one point his horse stepped on a loose rock and it tumbled away, shattering fifty or sixty feet below us. The horse stumbled and teetered. For a moment I thought it was all over. I quickly passed my arms under Remmie’s, and secured them around his waist. I attempted to interlace my fingers but he was too wide for my short arms. Once the horse regained its composure, Remmie lowered his head so that his fur-covered cheek rested upon my forehead. The emotions that stirred inside of me scared me.

I was falling for him.

Against all reason. This man—who kidnapped me—made me feel protected and safe. I was going to leave him and it would hurt, more than perhaps anything else I’d ever done in my entire life. But I had to. This relationship wasn’t normal, and it certainly wasn’t healthy.

Pure white flakes of snow trickled from the sky and dusted the mountains. Soon it picked up and fell like a fog around us. The horses’ hooves crunched in the thick snow. My breath formed clouds in front of me. I couldn’t see more than a foot in front of the horse. How much longer could we continue like this?

“Look!” Otis pointed to a small opening in the rock face ahead.

I narrowed my eyes, straining to see.

Otis dismounted and ventured in for a closer look.

“It’ll hold all of us.” His voice barely cut through the gusting wind and snow.

The rest of the men dismounted, steering the horses inside. The space was just big enough to fit us all. The savages put the horses by the far rock wall, leaving us enough room to lie side by side on the cold, damp floor until the storm settled.

We huddled together, front to back. I couldn’t have been more thankful for the men’s tendency to run a little warm. It was next to impossible to make out shapes and we were without the essentials to build a fire. Given the frigid temperature, the men had no difficulty cuddling one another so I allowed myself to do the same. What choice did I have, really? Cuddle or freeze. Remmie lay behind me, his back planted against the stone-cold wall of the cave. I could feel his body trembling and I rapidly rubbed his arm, which was laid across me, to help warm him.

As the night progressed, we moved so close to one another that I could barely inhale.

I fidgeted. Pushing on Nole, who lay in front of me, I turned to face Remmie, who sounded like an out-of-tune instrument as his teeth chattered noisily in the darkness. I pulled at him and he slowly moved forward. I interlaced his legs with mine and his arms enveloped me. I felt so small beside him and I wished I were bigger so that I could radiate as much heat to him as he gave to me.

“Trade places with me,” I urged him. “Nole will be able to give you more heat than I can.”

“N-no.” He stammered, then sniffled.

“Don’t be stubborn. You’re going to freeze.”

I tried to force him to move but he wouldn’t cooperate and I knew my words fell on deaf ears. I nuzzled my head under his chin and settled it into the crook of his neck, breathing my warm breath onto his exposed skin.

The storm raged on outside; the wind howled and whistled. The horses neighed and stomped the ground. I tried, without success, to imagine myself someplace warm and peaceful. I thought of home, but guilt consumed me. I was warm and more than a little blissful about being interlaced with Remmie—the man who’d hurt my father and brother. I was a horrible, wicked woman. What was wrong with me?

* * *

The bright sun pierced the cave’s opening. The snow had stopped but the cold raged on. All of the men continued to sleep; their audible breathing and bear-like snores reverberated along the walls of the cramped space. Except for Remmie. He made no noise at all when he slept this time. I might have thought that the cold had taken him if I didn’t revel in the warmth of his arms. How many women had been enveloped by his strong arms? And how many women had kissed his full lips, now chapped and dry and tinted blue from the cold? I imagined how wonderful they would taste if I were to press my lips against them. I would never know. He would never be mine and it pained me to think about it. Even if we had met under different circumstances, the chances of happily ever after was slim. Did he care about me? I thought so, truly I did, but this was impossible. He would hand me over to his king and break my heart if I let him. I couldn’t allow him to do that, no matter what. I wouldn’t allow him to hurt me.

* * *

The men groaned their way to their feet when they woke. I sympathized with them. The cold, hard floor of the cave was anything but ideal and very hard on the back. They stretched and yawned and cracked their backs, making me wince. They let the horses go shortly after that. Otis shooed them down the trail and then returned to meet us.

“We’ll take turns carrying you, Isame. We can move much faster that way,” Nole said.

I wanted to say it wasn’t necessary and that I could keep up, but I knew that was unrealistic. Nole was the first to carry me. He threw me over his shoulder like an sack of potatoes.

The speed at which we moved, without my hindrance, astounded me. They moved almost as fast as the horses. Riding upside down, banging against a rock-hard back was difficult for my weak stomach. I felt vomit rising up my throat and clamped my mouth shut to avoid soiling Nole’s back. He would have been none too impressed by my weak stomach.

I held out for as long as I could but when I felt it was imminent, I pounded on his back until he abruptly stopped. He eased me down and no sooner had my feet touched the ground did I projectile vomit onto the snow-blanketed mountains.