Impossible Things (22 page)

‘I wish you’d trust me, Ishtaer,’ Kael murmured, and she took a deep breath.

‘I do.’

Kael woke with a soft, warm woman in his arms, her head tucked against his shoulder, and for a long moment allowed himself to indulge in the sheer pleasure of holding her.

Then for an even longer moment he indulged in the fantasy of kissing Ishtaer awake, sliding off her woollen nightgown, pressing her strong, supple body against his – and probably getting eviscerated for his trouble.

Sighing, he eased away from her before she discovered the effect she had on his body, and slid out of bed, nearly stepping on Brutus as he did. Her very own furry chaperone. Brutus seemed to like him well enough now, but if he tried something Ishtaer didn’t like he could well imagine the wolf enjoying a meal made of warlord entrails.

He stood and watched Ishtaer for a while, her chest rising and falling beneath the covers, her cheeks pink with sleep. Her splinted arm lay outside the blankets, and he reached down to touch her fingers to check they hadn’t gone numb or cold.

Her eyes fluttered open as he did.

‘Hey,’ he said, and the longing for this to be something he did every morning nearly overwhelmed him.

This is ridiculous. You’ve never wanted to be tied to one woman, and as for that moony fantasy you’ve just had about seeing your betrothal necklace on that pretty collarbone, you can go and stick your head under the pump until it goes away.

‘Hey,’ Ishtaer murmured, stretching like a cat. Beautiful.

‘How’re you feeling?’

‘Better. Much better. I’ll get this fixed today.’

‘Take it easy. Give yourself time off. No training today, that goes without saying, and I’ll warn everyone not to come for healing—’

‘That’s silly. What if it’s something urgent?’

He prevaricated. ‘Urgent stuff only. But I’ll be here to help.’

She smiled. ‘You had a hard day yesterday, too. You should rest. Healer’s orders.’

‘If my lady insists.’

‘She does.’ Ishtaer pushed back the covers. Her nightgown had tangled up around her thighs, and Kael let himself gaze at her long, strong limbs, the colour of honey,
and would they taste as good
—

Good gods, Kael, stop it!

‘I, er. Breakfast. Will be soon. I’m sure. Can you get dressed? Do you need me?’

She sat up and swung her legs around, covering them with the thick wool. ‘I’ll manage, thanks. You should go and see Garik.’

‘Yes. Garik. Definitely. I should.’

Ishtaer gave him a strange look, but nodded. ‘I need to thank you for yesterday,’ she said, her tone quieter.

‘You really don’t.’

‘I really do. You saved my soul last night. And it’s not the first time.’

‘You saved my son. And no, I don’t care about what we said last night. He is my son, biology be damned.’

She smiled, a tired smile. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to say anything else.’

Kael turned for the door, then turned back and cupped her cheek. ‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ he said, before brushing a light kiss over her skin, and leaving before he did anything to ruin it.

He found some plate armour for her after that, ill-fitting but enough to protect her from more broken bones. Ishtaer hated wearing it, heavy and hot, but she had to admit she came away with far fewer bruises after training in it.

The days grew shorter and colder, and more of the villagers came up to the castle for the winter. The yards were full of animals, cows and goats and chickens milling about during the short hours of daylight before they were shut up in one of the turf-roofed barns so they wouldn’t freeze.

Ishtaer’s arm healed perfectly, aside from the small scar which she elected to keep, as a reminder. When she told Kael this he touched the uneven skin gently, and said, ‘As if I’d ever forget.’

He rarely spoke about the night he’d played her angel, except to joke lightly about ‘how I set you on fire that time.’ He trained with her, rarely pushing her too far, getting her to repeat drills over and over, even if it meant hitting him repeatedly with her wooden sword. He encouraged her.

Ishtaer realised that he was behaving like her friend.

When they went down to the village to bring up the last of the boats for the winter, it was Kael who partnered with her, not Eirenn or Verak, or any of the teams of men who’d turned out to help. And when a storm hit before the last of the families could move out of their cottage by the shore, it was Kael who grabbed Ishtaer’s medical bag before she could and raced down to the village with her.

A cottage had partly collapsed, and while most of the family had escaped with minor injuries, a girl of about fifteen called Ailsa had been caught by a falling chimney which had broken most of her ribs and caused severe internal damage.

‘I can heal her, but I need you,’ Ishtaer said to Kael as she knelt in the rubble, freezing rain pelting down on her. ‘I’ll go into crystal-debt.’

‘Whatever you need,’ he said, hand on her shoulder, and she felt his strength spreading through her like sunshine.

By the time she was done she lifted her head to find they’d been there hours, and that a tent had been erected around them, with a brazier, and that Kael still sat beside her, quietly lending her strength. When she judged Ailsa stable enough to be moved, he helped carry the stretcher up to the castle and brought Ishtaer food and drink throughout the night.

He breakfasted with her in the mornings, trained with her until they ate lunch together, and often wandered in to chat while she held her afternoon surgery. He sat beside her at dinner, topped up her glass and laughed with her about the day’s events. He spent more time with her than anyone other than Brutus, who worshipped him.

And Ishtaer liked it.

When she went to bed at the end of the day, she climbed between the sheets – because it was, after all, just a bed, and nothing bad was going to happen to her in it – and thought about how it had felt to go to sleep in his arms, feeling safe.

Shortly before the Dark, Kael leaned towards her at dinner and said, ‘I’m taking the sled to Utgangen tomorrow. Time to hold court. Do you want to come? There’s an armourer there who can make you something that fits properly. Old Smed is great at repairs, but a whole new suit is beyond him.’

‘My own armour?’ She bit her lip. ‘Will it be expensive? I don’t know how much things cost.’ He’d paid her periodically, a small pile of coins in a jar that slowly grew.

‘My treat.’

‘Kael, you can’t buy me armour.’

‘You’re part of my horde. I’ll buy you whatever the hell I want.’

‘I thought all your money went on winter food.’

‘That’s just what I tell fortune hunters. Some of it goes on presents for friends.’

She sighed. ‘I can’t accept that. But thank you for the offer.’

In the morning, instead of dressing in her borrowed armour, she dressed in the thickest furs she had and carried a small bag of clothes and toiletries out to the sled, which rested in the uppermost yard of the castle, the one which led to the Utgangen road and the only one which was guarded.

‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’ she asked Mags anxiously. ‘I’ve left out all the most common things people might need and Eirenn’s labelled them all, he knows what’s what, and I’ve put extra doses of Ailsa’s painkillers in her mother’s room, just in case we’re late a day, and—’

‘We’ll be fine,’ Mags said. ‘We’ve coped for months without a Healer before. We’ll manage for two days.’

‘If Marta’s baby comes early—’

‘It’s not due for three months, she’s had no complications and she has done it three times before. Midwifery we can do, Ishtaer. Get yourself off to Utgangen and stop worrying.’

Kael took her bag from her, laughing, and went to stow it in the troika.

‘Will you be all right?’ Eirenn asked quietly.

‘I’ll be fine. We’ve enough furs to keep a village warm, and plenty of food for the journey, and dry wood and even some kind of tent affair, Kael tells me, which means we can sleep in the sled if we get stuck in the snow—’

‘I don’t mean on the journey. I mean you’re spending two days with just him. I don’t want him to … to try anything.’

He was shuffling his feet, she realised. He was embarrassed.

‘Kael isn’t going to try anything,’ she assured him. ‘I trust him.’

‘He used to try it on with you all the time,’ Eirenn said.

‘Well, he doesn’t any more. He’s not interested in me and I’m not in him. Frankly, I suspect as soon as we get to the inn he’ll be out looking for a girl.’

‘I’d rather have a woman than a girl,’ said Kael from behind her, making her jump. ‘Now, if you’re done predicting my actions, are you ready to go? Good.’

Durran and Garik ran up to give them hugs, Eirenn helped her into the sled and pulled the furs over her, then the sled was gliding out of the courtyard and across the snow.

Silence fell very quickly, Skjultfjell with all its noise and warmth falling rapidly behind, and Ishtaer could hear nothing but the crunch of snow under the sled’s runners and Brutus’s sigh as he settled by her feet. The ponies pulling the troika were almost silent on the snow, which seemed to deaden all other sound.

‘How long will it take?’ she asked, although she already knew.

‘We’ll be there by supper. The Dark is still a week off, but people tend to travel less this time of year anyway.’

‘What is the Dark?’ Ishtaer asked. ‘Everyone at Skjultfjell seems so frightened by it.’

‘It’s the darkest week of the year. Barely gets light for an hour a day, and it’s freezing. Really, really freezing. You’ve got to prepare for it or you will die. Every year we lose a few animals, no matter how careful we are. For the most part, hardly anyone goes outside at Skjultfjell. It’s one of the reasons there are so many corridors and tunnels.’

‘Mags said you have some sort of festival in the middle of it.’

‘Yeah. It’s a bit like the Midwinter events in the Empire. Something to look forward to, to liven up what might otherwise be a long, slow period. We exchange gifts too. Just small tokens, for family usually. If you got the boys something small they’d love it.’

‘I’ll have a look when we reach town. I suppose the presents are what the children look forward to the most?’

‘Usually,’ he said with a laugh. ‘And the late night storytelling, and the candies Mags has been making in secret for ages. Everyone looks forward to it. Also it keeps people’s minds off the Hunt.’

‘All right, what’s the Hunt?’

‘The Wild Hunt. Supposedly this demonic bunch of huntsmen with hellhounds and horses made of bones or some rubbish. Mostly it’s a story told to kids. If you see the Wild Hunt, then they’ll chase you until you die. So they stay inside.’

‘Ah. Whereas if you told them it was just too cold, they might risk it?’

‘You’re smarter than you look, you know.’

He was teasing her. ‘For all I know, I might look like a genius.’

‘I don’t know what geniuses look like. Aren’t they all beardy old men?’

Ishtaer pulled down the scarf covering her chin. ‘No, no beard there.’

Kael laughed. ‘Do you know, it wasn’t that long ago you told me you didn’t think you had a sense of humour.’

She frowned. ‘In the summer. On the river barge.’

‘You were wrong. You do, and I like it.’

Thoughtfully, she rewound the scarf. ‘This time last year, I was sitting in Madam Julia’s sickbay, healing Malika’s hands.’

‘The seamstress?’

She was surprised he remembered. ‘Yes. I was so frightened Madam Julia would find out, and punish me.’

‘Why would she punish you for doing your job?’

‘I don’t know. I think I was just so used to being punished.’

He shifted on the seat next to her, and put his arm around her shoulders. Ishtaer leaned against him.

‘You said on the barge that you felt like you’d come alive. That … person I met, last year, she seems like a ghost now.’

‘She was,’ Ishtaer said. ‘She still haunts me sometimes.’

His gloved hand squeezed her shoulder.

‘You know, you’ve come a long way,’ he said. ‘A year ago you’d never have rested your head on my shoulder like this.’

She shifted and realised he was right. She didn’t even remember laying her head there.

‘I don’t suppose I would.’

They drove on through the sharp, cold air. Kael said rather abruptly, ‘I’m not going out to find a girl once we arrive, you know.’

‘A woman, then?’ Ishtaer said, wondering why the thought of it hurt. What Kael did with a woman was his own business.

‘No. Not anyone. I’ll stay with you. I don’t want to leave you by yourself.’

‘I’ll be fine—’

‘I’m still not looking for a woman.’

‘I don’t mind—’

‘I don’t want one, all right?’

She bit her lip, and nodded. He was tense under all those furs.

‘All right. I was only joking with Eirenn anyway. He thought you’d try something with me.’

‘I’ve told you before—’

‘Yes, I know, you don’t want me.’

‘Don’t want you? Ishtaer – how could I not want you? You’re brave and funny and clever and – did I mention brave? And you’re beautiful. Any man would want you.’

‘Stop it,’ she said, straightening up, away from him.

‘No. Look, just because I want you doesn’t mean I have to have you. I told you I’d never make you do something you didn’t want to, and I mean to hold to that. I will never force you; I won’t “try anything” with you. I respect you, and I like you, far too much to mess things up.’

Ishtaer said nothing. She couldn’t think of anything to say.

‘The reason I’m not rushing out to find another woman isn’t so I can stay in and seduce you. It’s just that I don’t want another woman.’

Her hands gripped each other as best they could in their leather mittens. The sound of the crunching snow was deafening.

Kael swore. ‘I should never have said that about wanting you. I meant it as a compliment. It was a stupid thing to say. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s all right,’ she managed.

‘It’s not all right. Can you forget I said that?’

Ishtaer swallowed. ‘Yes,’ she said, but it was a lie.

Kael cursed himself for the rest of the drive, he cursed himself as they checked into the inn, he cursed himself throughout a polite but distant supper with Ishtaer. When he saw her up to her room that night, he hesitated for an agonisingly long time over whether to kiss her cheek or touch her hand or do anything at all, but she took the decision out of his hands by murmuring, ‘Good night, then,’ and disappearing into her room.

The click of the key turning in the lock had never been louder.

What was wrong with him? Impassioned speeches, babbling explanations? He was Krull the Swiving Warlord! He didn’t witter, he didn’t stumble over apologies, he didn’t behave like a lovesick fool over a woman!

He didn’t—

Oh, hell. He didn’t have feelings like this.

He continued to curse himself throughout most of the night, and woke thoroughly grumpy after not nearly enough sleep. Worse, today he was holding court at the town hall, an opportunity for people to come and air their grievances or ask for help. It had to be done, but he could rarely say he enjoyed it.

Last time it had been mostly border disputes and three men who all believed they were the father of the same woman’s unborn child. He’d drawn a chalk circle, placed the woman in the middle of it, and told the three men that the true father could pull her out. When two started pulling in opposite directions and she started screaming, the third stood back and said he couldn’t hurt her. Kael had sent her home with him, and told her not to be so profligate with her affections next time.

The irony of this was not lost on him.

‘Gaspar is the smith we’re going to see,’ he said to Ishtaer over breakfast in the inn’s common room. ‘I’m not sure where he’s from, but he makes very fine armour. He’ll need to measure you quite carefully, though. I don’t expect he’ll take any liberties, but I’ll stay with you.’

‘There’s no need, I’m sure you’re busy—’

‘I’ll stay with you,’ he said firmly, and she shrugged, all camaraderie gone.

Kael cursed himself again.

Gaspar seemed a little put out when he discovered he was to make armour for a woman, but when Kael took him aside and told him the full extent of the order and how much he was going to get paid, he quickly shut up.

‘And don’t tell her how much it costs,’ Kael added. ‘She thinks she’s just paying for the one set.’

‘Anything you say, my lord,’ Gaspar said, and Kael could almost see the flash of gold in his eyes.

Afterwards, despite Kael offering to escort her back to the inn, Ishtaer accompanied him to the town hall. It wasn’t large or grand, but then neither was Krulland, and that was what Kael represented when he fastened on his lord’s mantle and took his seat on the dais.

Ishtaer sat beside him, facing the court, and Kael tried not to enjoy her presence there too much.

‘Let ’em in,’ he said to the mayor, and braced himself to dispense justice.

As usual, most of the plaintiffs had minor disputes. A few had lost crops or livestock to the cold or to disease, and Kael had the town clerk assign them enough to see them through the winter, with the promise that his men would be out to check they weren’t lying about their hardship. Even in his own lands, the horde of Krull the Warlord was feared.