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Authors: Beth Vaughan

White Star (17 page)

BOOK: White Star
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Evelyn gave him a nod to continue.

“It’s about yourself, Lady.”

“Yes?”

Reader gave the others a nervous glance, looking for support. “Well, see, it’s like this. We’re going into the Keep. The Black Keep. Made of black rock and all.” He kept talking when she stayed confused. “At night. In the Black Keep at night, Lady.”

Sidian chuckled. “He’s trying to say that you are a shining beacon of hope, Lady.”

Confused, Evelyn looked at Archer.

He grinned. “Ya glow. In those clothes, in the night— gonna give us away.”

Reader nodded. “Blackhart, now, he won’t tell ya, ’cause he likes it, Lady.”

“Likes what?” Evelyn said. “My clothes?”

Reader shook his head. “Likes your hair, Lady. And, well, begging your holy pardon, it is lovely, but—”

“Thank you,” Evelyn said.

“But deadly,” Reader said seriously. “You see?”

“Yes,” Evelyn said slowly, “I do.” She remembered all too well the odium that had reached for her braid when she’d been attacked at the shrine.

“It’s all that white.” Archer gave her a grin. “You do tend to gleam. Begging your pardon, of course.”

“We can find ya some dark clothes, a different cloak,” Reader offered. “And as to your hair, well, it is a glory, ma’am.”

Each man nodded his agreement “We might be able to hide it,” Reader said doubtfully. “But—”

“It’s what they’re looking for,” Thomas said, “long white hair.”

“Soot,” said Timothy. “Darken it with soot.”

“That would work,” Sidian said. “Might be able to tie the braid under her clothes.”

Evelyn shook her head. “That’s not good enough, is it? We all know what I need to do.”

Six pairs of stricken eyes looked at her, then darted glances at the door.

“Oh, ma’am,” Reader breathed, “if the odium don’t kill us, he will.”

It
took Orrin an hour to deal with the problem. The odium were starting to attack the walls now, tearing at them, trying to breach their defenses. He’d worked with the men to shore up the weak spot, and made new plans for dealing with odium close to the walls. Archer was wrong; the damn things were going to start climbing the walls, and soon.

He’d known he needed to calm down, and so he’d taken a long walk along the wall, harassing the men on watch. Now he stood at one of the corners, looking out over the fields.

She was right, damn her.

If there was something in the dungeons that was creating those monsters, he was going to need her abilities. He couldn’t afford to leave a weapon like that behind.

They’d harvested everything they could from the fields around the town. Orrin looked out over the stubble, soon to be covered in snow. This was good land. Stony, true enough, but there was hunting and fishing. The mountains held their own treasures: gold, silver, and gems. Whoever held the High Barony of the Black Hills would prosper, if he could stop the threat of the odium.

He dug the gold ring out of his pouch. It sat on his gloved palm, the red stone warm in the light. It was a heavy ring, made to remind the wearer and all who saw it of the duties and the power of a high baron.

Or baroness.

Orrin’s heart clenched in his chest.

Elanore had betrayed her oaths to the land and its people, and he had helped her. He’d forfeited any right to be considered a leader when he’d looked only to his own, and not to the greater picture.

His hand closed over the ring. He had no right to claim it, but he could clean up the mess he’d created.

He’d need Evelyn’s help to do it. He had no right to ask, but even less to refuse, her aid. The odium had to be stopped.

Blackhart gritted his teeth. It would have been easier if they’d just executed him right then and there in the throne room. A whack with the axe, and his head would have rolled on the floor. Much easier.

The wind picked up at that moment, and carried with it the faint sound of a woman’s mocking laughter.

Orrin sighed and tucked the ring back in his pouch, trying to convince himself to do what had to be done.

Reader
looked up from his book. “That’s him coming.”

Archer turned from his arrow work and saw Sidian start to hustle Mage back through the kitchen door. Thomas and Timothy were right behind.

Reader jumped up, leaving his book on his chair. The small man wiped his palms on his pants as he darted to the door and jerked it open.

Blackhart stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the day. His eyes pierced the room. He looked at the other door, watching Timothy’s back end disappear, then focused on Archer. “Where is she?”

Archer jerked his head toward the main stairs.

Blackhart headed across the room and up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“I’m finding someplace else to be,” Reader said, gathering up his book. “You?”

Archer looked up from his tools, and grinned. “Nah. Not gonna miss this.”

Orrin
threw open the door, striding into the room. “Evelyn, we need—”

She wasn’t there. There was a lad kneeling before the fire— short, dark hair, dark clothes— tossing a long braid of white hair into the fire.

Furious, Orrin pulled his sword, crossing the room to grab the lad by the shoulder. He threw him to the ground, sword tip at his throat. “Didn’t I say she was under my protection? What have you—”

Silver blue eyes flashed up at him with a grin. “Didn’t recognize me, did you?”

He froze, standing there stupid. “Evie? What—?” He raised his sword away from her neck.

“I cut my hair,” she said, smiling as she stood and brushed herself off. “I guess it worked, eh?”

Orrin’s breath caught in his throat. “You cut it?”

“Of course. It was a danger.” Evelyn bent over, tucking the braid deeper into the coals. “Sidian let me borrow his knife.”

Orrin glanced at the hearth where Sidian’s knife, with its bone handle and odd stone blade, lay.

“I’ve seen one like it before, but I can’t remember where.” Evelyn looked up at him. “Orrin? Are you all right?”

Orrin just stared at her.

Her short hair framed her face, lying like a silky fringe on her soft skin. It gave her a soft sweetness that he hadn’t seen in her before, in her formal attire. The dark clothing was form-fitting in ways that made his entire body pay close attention. Freed from her heavy white robes, she was lithe and lovely, her breasts straining against her tunic, her legs . . .

Orrin could only hope his tongue was still in his mouth. He sheathed his sword, to gain a moment to pull himself together. “Your hair”— he swallowed hard— “how did you darken . . .”

“I used soot, with a bit of oil. Timothy and Sidian suggested it.”

Sidian, again. Orrin was going to kill the man.

Evelyn grimaced. “It feels dirty, but it’s safer this way.” She tilted her head. “You can put your sword away, you know.”

He flushed, and sheathed the blade, still stunned out of reckoning. “Oh, Evie . . .”

Evelyn laughed, her eyes made brighter by the darkened hair. She cupped his cheek with her palm. “Oh, Orrin, it’s just hair. It grows back, foolish man.”

She lifted herself on tiptoe, and kissed his open mouth.

Blackhart groaned, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her in return.

He
felt like summer.

Like a warm summer day, hazy with heat and life. His hands moved over her, stroking her back as he claimed her mouth. Evelyn shivered under his touch, melting into him, feeling more through the thinner cloth of her dark clothing. She hungered for this, for his touch, for more.

His lips were warm and soft, and she opened hers under his assault, feeling his tongue touch hers. Her hands moved too, exploring the hard muscles of his back, moving lower to press him closer, feeling such a wave of desire flood over—

The door opened. Orrin broke the kiss, and stepped back.

“Oops,” Archer said, “sorry.”

The door closed. A muffled voice came through. “Just checking to see if anyone was dead.”

Orrin’s glare at the door was murderous. “One last chance, woman. Leave now. The odium tried to get you once, and now you are talking about walking in there like a lamb to the slaughter, licking the farmer’s hand as he leads you to—”

Archer’s muffled voice came through the door. “She ain’t going; I ain’t going. We got about a nothing chance of—”

With a snarl, Orrin took two steps, and wrenched the door open.

Archer’s eyes widened a bit, and he took a step back from the door.

“Get your ass away from this door, and get the others down in the main room,” Orrin said. “Spread out the gear, start making decisions. We need a plan.” He slammed the door shut.

Evelyn took a deep breath. “You said it yourself. We’ll never be rid of them if we don’t attack the source. I’d rather do that than hide and wait for them to come.”

“Fool woman,” he whispered, his eyes grim.

She stared at him, reached out, but he took another step back and then another, his face stark and full of pain. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said roughly.

“Well, I do,” she growled, “and I was thinking the same thing. Orrin, I—”

“No.” To her frustration, he shook his head, and took another step back toward the door. “I can’t— this isn’t right.”

“Orrin”— Evelyn took a breath— “I’m no virgin. My order is not celibate—”

“But you’re chaste,” Orrin pointed out. “You took a vow of chastity, right?”

Evelyn blushed. “I . . . yes . . . but—”

“No, no— you don’t see.” Orrin’s chest heaved. “I want you, by all the Gods I want you—”

A flush of pleasure washed over her at his words.

“But there is no future in it, between you and I.” Orrin raised his hands as if to ward her off. “I’ll not start something I can’t. . .” He stopped, and swallowed hard. “I’ll not have that on my soul as well.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about our souls?” Evelyn said. “I—”

“What’s one more vow broken, eh?” Orrin asked, his face stark with pain.

Stung, Evelyn stood silent.

“I’ll take you with us,” Orrin said. “It’s what I have to do to have the best chance of winning through.” He walked toward the door, his face set. “Besides, I doubt I could stop you even if I tried.” He opened the door and gave her a haunted look. “After that, I’ll see you off, back to Edenrich. Back to your life, your Church, your friends. Far away from the likes of me.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. “Come down to the main room. We need to start to prepare.”

With that, he was gone.

TWENTY

«
^
»

Evelyn
walked down the stairs with some hesitation, but to her relief, Orrin wasn’t in the main room. It seemed that everyone else was.

Men spilled into the room, their arms filled with weapons, gear, and supplies. Evelyn stayed on the bottom step for a moment, her hand on the railing, taking it all in.

Orrin’s men were spread out, each at a table, emptying saddlebags and packs, spreading out all kinds of weapons and armor. They were asking questions, confirming orders, and explaining their needs. More men arrived, but some left, each with a purpose in his step and a gleam in his eye. There was a sense of anticipation in the air that surprised her, given that Orrin had just been in such a rage.

Reader was closest, so she went to his side. He had a series of daggers spread out before him, a sharpening stone in his hand.

“You all seem in good spirits for men headed into peril,” she commented. “Why so pleased?”

They all looked at her when she spoke and, for a moment, quiet fell as they stared at her, stunned.

Evelyn flushed a bit, putting her hand up to the back of her neck.

“Well, see, ma’am, it’s like this.” Archer, at the next table, pulled a tangled rope out of a sack. “We’re going, that’s true enough. And you’re going with us.”

“And you ain’t all white and glittering,” Reader said. “And Blackhart’s leading us.”

“We know the Keep,” Sidian added. “Know the land, so to say.”

Archer nodded. “Gives us a bit of an edge. Not much, but some.”

Timothy and Thomas nodded as they spread out their gear, shaking out bedrolls.

“Odium are stupid,” Mage added. He had a cluster of papers in his hands, shuffling through them. “We can’t—”

“Get cocky.” Orrin’s deep voice came from the door. He pushed past a man in the doorway, went to a clear table, and dumped his saddlebags. “You get cocky, and we die.”

“Yes, sir.” Mage’s shoulders slumped a bit as he turned back to his task.

“Besides,” Archer said, “we’ve been holding them off. It’s time to take the fight to them. Get this thing stopped. Finish it, one way or the other.”

A chorus of “ayes” filled the room.

“It’s a challenge,” Sidian added. “A task worthy of our skills, to test our mettle.”

Evelyn walked over, and offered him his blade, handle first. “Thank you.”

“It did its work well?” Sidian asked.

“It did,” Evelyn confirmed. “Sheared right through the braid.”

“Kind of you to offer it,” Orrin muttered.

“She was willing to make a sacrifice for us. It was right she use this blade.” Sidian bowed his head to Evelyn, took the knife, and sheathed it.

“Pack enough food for three days,” Orrin said. “Dried meat and hardtack. Waterskins, because the wells may have been fouled. No bedrolls, we’ll take cloaks. Plan for tight quarters, fighting in hallways. Pack light.”

“Horses?” Timothy asked.

“We aren’t taking horses,” Orrin said. “Figure a day to get in, deal with what we find, and get out. But we’ll plan for three.”

“We’re walking?” Thomas frowned.

Orrin shook his head. “Evelyn will open a portal.”

“Wish
I
could,” Mage said with envy.

“It’s not an easy spell to cast. There’s very few who can do it,” Evelyn said. “I’d be willing to teach you, once this is over.”

Mage’s face lit up, and he gave her a shy nod.

“Where’s she gonna open up a portal?” Archer asked.

A horn sounded. All heads turned, and men could be heard headed for the wall, taking up their weapons.

Orrin returned to his task. “The faster we leave, the faster that ends.”

BOOK: White Star
6.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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