Accidental Sorceress (Hardstorm Saga Book 2) (34 page)

“His name is Orz.”

Surprise crossed the prince’s face. “He speaks?”

“Only his name,” I said with true regret.

“He is much improved,” Graho allowed. Then he nodded toward the hollow. “A pint, then, old friend? I would reward you for guarding my lady.”

But Orz did not move, nor did he acknowledge the prince.

“He usually stays with me,” I put in.

The prince’s gaze cut to me, widened. “Whilst you bathe?”

“By the creeks in the woods, he protected me.” At first I had not looked at him as a flesh-and-blood man but as a lost wraith.

“Very well,” the prince said. Then frowned. Then smiled. “I am jealous of a man without a spirit.”

I wanted to argue that Orz had a spirit. I was almost certain. He had shown so much care for Marga, such care and loyalty for me… But by the time I found the words, Graho had left me, the door closing behind him.

“Your bath, my lady,” one of the servant women called, and I headed to the alcove, glancing at Orz.

He took up position in the middle of the room, facing the door, his back to me, his hand near his sword. The servant woman frowned at him with disapproval but held her tongue when I did not send him away.

“If you allow me, my lady.” The woman distracted me with stripping off my clothes, then unbraiding my hair once I was in the hot fragrant water that felt better than anything had in a long time.

I sank into the comfort and closed my eyes, let the woman rub soaproot paste over my body and into my hair.

The journey down Silver River had been a cold and distressing one. I had worried about our soldiers, about failing, about never reaching Dahru, about not being able to save my people.

The warmth of the bath seeped into my bones now, nearly lulling me to sleep. Then Orz gave one of his soft growls, maybe answering Marga, who was now sunning on the balcony. My exhaustion-addled brain drifted, idly wondering what it might feel like to have Orz’s scarred fingers in my hair instead of the servant’s.

A strange feeling flooded me, startling me so much that I sat upright in the bath, splashing water on the stones, upsetting the woman.

“Forgive me, my lady.” She thought she had somehow hurt me, pulled my hair.

“All is well. I can finish this myself.” I ducked under the water and held my breath for a moment, then another, trying to regain my composure.

Yet I still did not have it when I broke the surface.

Orz still stood as he had, his back to me, innocent of my strange imaginings, his attention on the door, giving no indication that he could hear me splashing around in my bath.

But I was aware of his presence as I had not been before.

I dressed in a hurry, in the nearest dress, barely allowing the servant to help me, which upset the woman again.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” she kept repeating.

To calm her, I let her comb and arrange my hair.

Then I caught Orz, from the corner of my eye, looking at the tub. Did he wish to bathe? Even as I thought that, I grew embarrassed. Of course he did. He was no different than I.

Among the common people, sharing a bath was a habit. They started with the young and finished with the parents, the whole family of a dozen or more accomplishing their weekly bath in the same water.

Yet now, with Orz, sharing a bath seemed an oddly intimate thing. Still, I could not deny him the comfort.

“Would you like to use the water?”

He stilled as if I had caught him by surprise. But then he nodded.

I could
not
stay and watch him disrobe. Even if part of me wished to look upon his face. As the servant woman fled, I strode to the balcony, closed the doors firmly behind me, and looked out at the city.

The city fathers walked the parapets, assigning soldiers to towers. I could see Tomron. I saw many men who had come to the city with me, some with better weapons than they had arrived with.

The city merchants were putting away their wares, some nailing boards across their windows. The noise of the city rose up to me, but I suddenly heard another, muffled, noise behind the doors. Was that Orz, splashing into the tub?

I felt so many things. Longing, yes, and a great curiosity, but also great shame. I had allowed Graho to hold me earlier, and now I was thinking about Orz. Where was my loyalty to Batumar? What was wrong with me? I did not want any other man but him.

Orz’s kindness had reached my heart.
As a brother
, I tried to tell myself. And yet…

My cheeks burned by the time he opened the door behind me and cleared his throat, signaling that he was ready. I turned slowly. Blinked.

He had shaved. I stared at the tip of his scarred chin.

I wished to see the rest of his face. “Orz—“

A rap on the door interrupted. 

I stepped closer to Orz. But then the rap sounded again, and, with a small sigh, I hurried to the door.

Graho waited outside, his face immediately breaking into a smile.

“A lovely dress, but it pales in beauty next to the lady wearing it.” He offered his arm. “Allow me to escort you to the feast.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

What else could I say? Even if Orz was making low sounds behind us that made me think he might shove Graho down the staircase.

“Uncanny how much he sounds like the tiger,” the prince observed, oblivious to danger.

He entertained me all the way to the feast, then during the feast. And I did not receive respite after the feast either, for Graho escorted me back to my quarters and wished to come in.

Only because I wanted to know more about the children and the truth about their strange journey did I let him inside.

Orz stood guard by the door. I invited Graho to sit with me by the fire.

He looked toward Orz. “I think that hollow is in love with you,” he said thoughtfully, then offered a sudden smile as he returned his attention to me. “Who can blame him?”

I did not want to acknowledge his words, much less think on them. “How does a prince with the best navy in the world come to travel on a pirate ship?” I asked instead.

Graho leaned back in his seat. “Why are
you
here?”

“I hope to hire the Landrian navy to sail my army to Dahru to free my island.”

He offered a rueful smile. “I wish you had told me so when we first met.”

“When we first met, you were a horrible merchant who traded in children.”

He laughed, holding my gaze. “Not a very good merchant. A good merchant does not let go when he sees something he wants. He obtains it at any price.” He fell silent, then looked toward the city outside the balcony. “You gathered an army. Not that I ever doubted you could.”

“But I arrived here too late to sail.”

He turned back to me with a pensive look in his blue eyes. “The Landrian navy does not sail the hardstorms. But I would try for you,” he added. “Now that I have seen how it is done. I paid most careful attention.”

That I could believe.

“Why were you on the pirate ship?” I asked again.

He cleared his throat. “My father, the king, had known for some time that the Emperor would reach our corner of the world sooner or later. We gave all our attention to our fleet, building more ships, so we might be able to defend our islands.”

I waited.

He scowled. “While we worked in the shipyards, watching for an enemy fleet, a simple fishing boat slipped past our defenses. Some of our children were kidnapped.”

“The nine?” I guessed.

He nodded.

His journey was beginning to make sense. “And you brought them back.”

“They are not ordinary children,” he confessed. “Many centuries ago, during a great war like this one, Landria had taken in a handful of refugees from a faraway land. Their men and women have special powers, most strong in childhood, then fading as they age, almost as if they are born with a certain amount and it runs out over the years.”

I listened with great interest. Never had I heard such a thing. My own healing power was late to come to me but had strengthened over the years. Among my people, the older a healer was, the more skilled.

Graho continued. “A rival kingdom grew envious that we should have such guests among us, helping Landria prosper.”

I guessed the rest. “So, using the chaos of the preparations for the coming war, they kidnapped the children. Was that when they were injured?”

Graho pressed his lips together, his expression most grim. “Their injuries were no accidents. The priests who held them believe that only the gods can be perfect. If humans tried to be so, the gods would mete out grave punishment. Among their people, if there is one of great beauty who also has great talent, one who might be too close to perfection, such a person is sacrificed to the gods. And with these children, who were fair of face and with such powers…”

My heart broke as I understood now what had happened. “The priests had to make the children imperfect.”

“As you say.” A hard look settled on his face. He cleared his throat again. “I found them, but I did not reach them before the high priest’s knife.”

I sat silent as horrific images washed over me.
Why do the spirits allow such darkness in the world?

The prince said, “On the way back, we reached as far as Kaharta Reh on Dahru, but by then, Dahru’s Gate had closed and we could travel no farther. We sailed to Rabeen, where pirates were rumored to provision for their longer journeys.”

He gave a pained smile. “We had to travel in disguise, or they would have seized the children to sell them for their powers. So would have any common bandit. We could not safely reveal our identities until we were inside the walls of Uramit, among allies.”

He would make a good ruler one day, I thought. He cared about his people. He could have sent a captain of his to the rescue; he could have remained protected behind his fortress walls. He hadn’t.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“That you are a good prince.”

He smiled. “From what I hear, you are a good sorceress.”

I winced at the title. I wished nothing more than to be free of it.

“You are not comfortable with that word,” he observed.

“No.”

“Because you are not comfortable with your power.”

“I have no great power,” I protested. “And the only sorceress I know of is the dark sorceress Noona from the Kadar legends.” And what disapproving whispers I had heard of my great-grandmother.

“You could be princess instead.” Graho turned most serious. “Unless your heart is set on going back to Karamur and becoming the new High Lord’s concubine.” He leaned forward. “In Landria, a man chooses but one woman. For life. Agree to become my princess, and when this battle is over, I shall lead the Landrian navy myself to the shores of Dahru to save your people. Just promise that you will return to Landria with me when the war is over.”

“That is a most honorable offer,” I stammered. Then swallowed, my hand flying to my chest. “But my heart…” My heart was dead. I did not want to sound as stark as that. “It is asleep.”

But he would not waver. “Then let me awaken it.”

I did not think he could, even as kind a man as he was. I pressed my lips together, desperately trying to think of an answer that would not offend him.

“I have distressed you,” he said. “Talk of love scares you more than talk of a siege, doesn’t it?” His mouth curved into an amused smile. “Let us then discuss your army.”

We talked long into the night. We should have rested instead, for the Kerghi did not wait until dawn. The sky was still black when they attacked.

I did not watch the battle from the top of the tower, nor did I lock myself into my quarters with Orz and Marga for protection. I walked the city walls, looking for injured soldiers to heal.

I found patients aplenty, but all in all, I did not think the siege was going badly. Until the wall next to me exploded, and a falling soldier knocked me off my feet.

I stared up, my spine fairly rattled. “What was that?”

“They brought siege machines, my lady,” Tomron called as he came running.

“Can we hold against them?” I asked as Orz assisted me in standing.

“Not for long,” Tomron told me with a grim expression. “Eventually, the wall will be breached. We are badly outnumbered. Once the Kerghi are inside, my lady, we cannot stand against them.”

“How long?”

“Three days at the most.”

But in that, he greatly overestimated Uramit’s walls. They were breached by that evening.

Chapter Twenty-Six

(The Siege)

The siege machines made all the difference. I watched in the twilight as the first tower crumbled. I ran to help the men buried under the rubble.

I was half-buried myself when strong hands seized me and pulled me back. Graho and Orz.

“What are you doing here?” Graho dragged me rapidly through a throng of soldiers, away from the wall.

Instead of growling at him, Orz was now helping him.

Dust and blood covered the prince’s hands and his handsome face. He’d obviously been fighting among the soldiers. “You must stay in your quarters.”

“I must help.” I tried to dig my feet in. I couldn’t. He was much stronger.

“You must live,” he snapped at me, harsher than I had ever seen him.

I glanced around for Marga, but she was off. The bloodlust of battle was on her. The savagery of Bloodstorm sang in her veins.

I looked at Orz for support, but instead, he moved rapidly in front of us to part the sea of soldiers so Graho could drag me faster.

Between the two, they had me in my quarters in no time.

Then Graho hesitated. “I wish to stay to protect you should the worst happen, but they need me on the wall.”

“Then go to the wall,” I snapped. I wished nothing but to be on the wall myself where I was needed.

He was talking to Orz already. “Guard her.”

And of all times, Orz picked this one to agree with him instead of ignoring him or doing his glaring-without-looking trick.

As soon as Graho left, Orz positioned himself inside my door. In his black robe, he looked as unmovable as a granite boulder.