Ravenmarked (The Taurin Chronicles) (30 page)

“No.” She turned to him. “This is wrong. This is sinful.”

He laughed softly. “This isn’t sinful. I’ve hardly touched you.”

“But you would if I let you.”

He shrugged. “Most likely, yes.”

This man!
“You really don’t have any respect for anything do you?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Respect?”

“Yes, respect. For me, for the kirok, for Alshada. Why do you hate the kirok so much?”

“I don’t hate the kirok.”

“You do. You hate everything it stands for.” She paused. “It makes me wonder what you really think of me.”

The kirons stirred on the other side of the fire. Connor lowered his voice. “Can we talk about this somewhere else?”

She stood. “I think we should talk about it here. I don’t mind if they hear. Are you trying to hide something?”

He cursed, and she flinched. “I’ve not hidden a thing about my feelings toward the kirok since we started this journey,” he said. “You’re the one who keeps trying to change me.”

“Perhaps you need changing,” she said. “You don’t follow kirok teachings. You drink, you kill, you bed any woman you want. You say Alshada doesn’t care what you do.”

“I really don’t want to talk about this in front of them,” Connor whispered, one hand on her arm and his mouth close to her ear. “Can we go somewhere else?”

Heat rose in her face.
This is what you do—you hide yourself from the truth so you can have what you want. And right now you want me, but what about in the morning?
She shook her head. “No. I won’t let you distract me and try to cajole me into your bed.” She stepped back when he reached for her. “I’m a fool. To think what I almost gave you—” She bit off the words as Gavin stepped closer. “I need to walk away. Don’t follow me.”

He put a hand on her arm again. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

She pulled away. “You don’t have a choice.” She stalked into the trees, brushing away angry tears as she walked deeper into the forest.
Foolish, foolish girl. To think I wanted to go to bed with him! He’s nothing but a rogue, and he’d bring nothing but tears.
She shook her head.
I’m better off keeping my distance. No more sparring, no more training. He can deliver me where I’m supposed to go, and then I’ll say goodbye.

***

Connor watched Mairead walk away, his jaw hanging open.
Where did all of that come from?
But he knew. Her kisses weren’t as chaste as she wished, and he’d been surprised and aroused by the passion in them.
I didn’t intend any of this. I just wanted to tease you. I didn’t expect to enjoy it that much.

He paced, watching the trees. He knew it was unsafe to let her go into the forest alone, with the other men not asleep yet, but he couldn’t follow her. A raven landed in a tree at the edge of the clearing and cawed. Connor grimaced.
You could help me.
He directed his thoughts to the Morrag.
You could give me some clue how to deal with this woman. Or at least tell me why I distrust these men so much. A raven croaking at me? That’s as likely coincidence as anything.

Gavin put a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Let me talk with her.”

No, not you.
“She just needs some time alone.”

“Connor, I was married once. I remember.” He smiled. “I’ll speak with her.”

Connor clenched and unclenched his fists.
She’d rather talk to him than me. She trusts him more than she trusts me, all because of a brown robe and a smattering of kirok language.
“Good luck. She’s strong-willed, and she doesn’t much care for advice.”

Gavin chuckled. “Just like my wife was.” He followed Mairead.

Connor pulled out his skin of oiska and sat near the fire. His hands shook with anger, and he took a long drink to calm himself. He wiped his mouth.
What was I thinking? A pretty girl smiles at me, I do what she asks, and then she thinks she can change me? I’m a fool, too.

One of the other men, Kef, gestured from across the fire. “Aye, boyo. Will ye still share?”

Connor passed the skin over. “You aren’t so abstinent after all?”

“No.” The man took a long drink. He passed it to the other man, Owen. “We’re not kirons, either. He has us pretend—makes him look better, seem more important.”

“Do you really do as he says? Minister to the downtrodden all over Culidar?”

The men laughed. “Aye, that’s it. Minister to the downtrodden.” He drank and set the skin down. “No, lad. We’ve better ways to pass the time.”

Connor saw the fist coming just before it hit his jaw. It knocked him backward. He staggered to his feet and drew a dagger from his boot. “What—”

“There be some things we need to know about your lady and your mother.”

“My mother?” He shook his head. “My mother’s dead.”

The men laughed. “No, lad. We know who ye are. And we know your mother isn’t dead.”

Three men came out of the trees.
They’ve been tracking us.
Panic set in—
Mairead.
Kef lunged at him with a dagger. Connor deflected the blade, but the edge sliced his forearm. He hissed in pain, and the raven took flight near him, cawing and flapping around the scene. Connor drew his other dagger.
Focus on the fight. Don’t let the anger draw you into her grasp.

A big, greasy, bearded man in black leathers approached swinging a flail, and another man crept up behind Connor. Blades glinted in the firelight on either side of him, and Kef struck toward him again. Connor focused on defense, strategy—he pictured his battle training, the armory at Kiern, the sparring sessions with Edgar, previous fights—anything that would keep him alive. He parried, spun, sliced. One man fell screaming, blood spurting from a wide gash in his neck. Another swore and stepped back, cradling a fingerless hand.

But there were too many, too close. The man with the flail swung as Connor spun back toward him. Connor’s hand connected with the flail and turned to porridge with a crunch. He roared. Pain blinded him long enough for two men to grab his elbows from behind. He went to his knees.
No defense—Mairead—gods, they’ll kill her.
Fighting to stay conscious, Connor tried to form braids of air, but the big man drew up his own talent and flicked the air braids away. Connor gasped in pain and disbelief.
Damn it—how did I miss it?
“You’re Nar Sidhe,” Connor said.
That’s what I sensed. They were far enough away to keep me off-balance. They must be shielding their magic—animstones?

“Aye, lad. And we’re needing a bit of something from ye about your people.” He signaled to the men behind Connor. One kicked him in the kidneys and pushed him down to bind his legs. They lifted him to his feet to face the greasy man. The man picked up a stick and hit Connor across the face. Light flashed and pain erupted as bone shattered around his eye. “Ye’ll tell me where to find your mother, lad, or we’ll be turning ye over to the kiron. He likes a big boyo like you, and then we’ll all be having a turn.” He swung the flail a few times and then connected with Connor’s torso.

Connor gasped as ribs cracked. He tried to draw air, but couldn’t. The blow should have caved his chest in.
They don’t want me dead.
He doubled over, but they pulled him back up by the hair.

The man hit him again from the other side. Bone crunched. “Call up your magic if ye want. Let the raven take ye. ’Tis what you’re afraid of, aye? That it’ll take ye? Make ye something wicked? Let the Morrag save ye.” Connor couldn’t count how many fists pummeled him. “We’ll stop if ye tell us where to find your mother.”

Connor spit blood. “Fuck you. Find her yourself.”

“Your little lassie’s a pretty one. The kiron, he’ll enjoy that one. Ye want to watch? Ye can watch us all have a turn—see her pretty little legs splayed for all of us, hear her scream, watch her bleed.” He grinned. “Mayhap if ye play nice, we’ll leave ye a bit of her. ’Twill be a ragged bit, mind. Ye’ll not get that sweet bit ye been wanting.”

Don’t listen. Focus. There must be an out. There’s always a way out.
But only pain answered.

Kill them, raven.

Something flared in Connor’s chest.
The Morrag—no—don’t—
But he couldn’t stop it. It swelled, sweet and powerful and strong, as the men pounded him. The pain only served to feed the Morrag. Strength gathered in his arms, legs, shoulders. Muscles that had lost feeling answered again. He tugged against the hands holding him.
I could escape. I could fight, but at what price?

I will give you strength, raven,
the Morrag said. She laughed, a high, cackling, exultant sound.
You’ll be mine.

No—I won’t!
Connor pressed her voice aside. He tried to draw a full breath. His ribs protested every move, and every blow sent agony through his limbs. Strength faded as he pushed the Morrag back. “No.” He spit blood.

The man laughed. “No? Ah, lad, we’re just getting started.” He swung and hit again. “Tell me how to find your mother.”

Connor gasped, spit more blood. Strength retreated. His knees crumpled and his arms went limp.
They’ll kill me and rape Mairead and find my mother. Is this it? How it ends?
And then, the thought he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.
This is what you wanted. You wanted someone else to kill you—destroy you and keep you from the raven.

Tears stung.
It’s what I wanted. I wanted to die.
He thought of Mairead.
I should have promised you everything.
He closed his eyes. Weakness overtook him. “Fuck all of you.”
At least the raven won’t have me.

The men laughed. “To the end, eh? All right—if ye must.”

“The kiron’ll want his chance. Just make it so he canna fight.”

Connor fell. Fists and feet pounded him. Sounds faded.
Mairead, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Above, the raven’s caw faded into the distance.

***

By the time Mairead talked herself down from her anger and stopped walking, there was no sign of the camp. She slumped against a fir tree, sliding down to curl her knees to her chin. She closed her eyes and took several long, deep breaths. Only the subtle sounds of the forest surrounded her—night bugs, an owl, a raven in the distance. She folded her hands. “Alshada, give me wisdom. I care for him. Forgive me, but I do. Show me how to speak your truth to him.” Only crickets answered, but Mairead rested her head on her knees, finding comfort in the words and the ritual.

Footsteps approached. Mairead readied herself for words with Connor, but smiled when she saw Gavin.
Perhaps he can pray for Connor with me.
“Gavin. I’m surprised Connor let you follow me.”

“Forgive me, Mairead.” He knelt before her. “I thought perhaps you might wish to have a sympathetic ear.” He offered her a thin smile. “Connor is protective, isn’t he?”

“We’ve had a few close calls since we started our journey. He fears losing me, I think.”
I should tell him we aren’t married. I don’t like lying to him. But then Connor will be even angrier.

“You have such a strong faith. How did you find yourself wed to a man with a faith so weak?”

She thought for a moment.
No more lies—I can’t lie anymore.
“Gavin, I should tell you something.”

“Yes?” He shifted his weight.

Overhead, the raven’s cawing grew closer.

Mairead tensed.
He wants something from me.
She put subtle hands on the hilts of both knives in her boots. “Nothing. Never mind.” She started to stand. “We should—”

But there was no time to finish. Gavin’s placid face turned cold. He lurched toward her. She scrambled to one side of the tree, and his hand fell on her foot. She kicked with her other foot, hitting him in the face. He jerked back, blood streaming from his nose, while she drew both knives and jumped to her feet. “Who-who are you?”

His arm came toward her, and she slashed. Blood sprayed from the slice in his forearm. “What do you want from me?”

He flicked blood aside and lunged toward her again. She slashed. He grabbed her arm and swung a fist at her. She ducked and stabbed toward his side, but the knife bounced off a rib. He howled in pain and let go of her, clutching his side.

Mairead hesitated.
He’s wounded—I can run. But what if he chases me? Can I make it back to Connor in time?
Oh gods—Connor was right! What if they’re attacking him?

Gavin straightened, preparing to lunge. Mairead gritted her teeth, took one step toward him, daggers crossed before her in an X, and slashed his throat open with a quick slice in two directions. He screamed and clutched at his throat.

Mairead stepped back, horrified, as Gavin’s blood sprayed out onto her and his gurgling cries echoed through the trees. He clawed at his neck, frantic at first, then slower. Her heart thundered against her chest.
Finish him. Stop the screaming.
She stepped toward him and stabbed between his ribs, and his arms went slack.

Connor—what have they—
She started toward the camp, but another man appeared out of the trees—a large, heavy mass of muscle and hair. “Oh, lassie. They dinna tell me ye’d be such a lovely.”