Echoes (23 page)

Darius moved his other arm across his body, and he rested his hand on her stomach. He heard her sharp intake of breath, but did not stop. He splayed his hand across her.

“You’re so small,” he whispered huskily. “My fingers can almost reach from one hip to the other.” Darius held his hand very still. “You don’t feel cold now,” he observed.

“No, not anymore.”

She liked the way his hand felt resting there. The heaviness was warm, soothing, comforting.

He moved his hand to one hip and then slid it to her waist and pulled her gently so she was on her side as well, facing him. “Your eyes are captivating. I could look at them forever and never get bored. I can almost read your every thought.”

Dearra could imagine what her eyes must looked like at that moment. Her emotions were wreaking havoc with her entire body. One moment she couldn’t breathe, and the next she was taking rapid, shallow breaths. She had been cold only moments ago, and now her skin burned, especially in the places where his hand touched. “Is there any blue left at all?” she whispered, already knowing the answer.

“Not that I can see. Maybe I should take a closer look.” He leaned in until his face was only inches from hers. “Dearra?”

“Hmm?”

“I can’t see the color if you close your eyes like that.”

“I think you’ve seen my eyes enough for one night,” she said, keeping her lids closed. When he looked at her that way, she found it difficult to remember to take a breath, or…well, even her own name, really. It was safer to keep her eyes shut.

“It will never be enough,” he disagreed, “but I can be patient.”

She felt his hand as it moved away from her waist and trace lightly over her side, leaving behind a trail of fire that burned in the most wonderful way. His hand caressed her arm, her shoulder, her neck, and then she felt him tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear. She loved it when he did that. It was such a casual thing, but she never tired of the way it made her feel.

She reached forward with her free hand and then paused, holding it in midair, unsure if she should continue. He made the decision for her. She felt him take her hand and guide it to his chest. She could feel the beating of his heart through the thin fabric of his shirt.

His hand caressed her cheek, and she leaned into it, unwilling to ever let the moment end. His thumb ran along her lower lip. “Your skin is like warm silk.”

She felt him shift, and then his lips were on hers, achingly tender, and so cautious, as if he were afraid she’d bolt if he moved too quickly. She wanted to reassure him that there was no risk of that happening, but when the kiss continued, she forgot everything but him. He moved closer still, and then his body was partially covering hers, and she couldn’t move. She hated herself for her fear, but she couldn’t help it. The long ago memory of the night in his room resurfaced and reared its vicious head. She remembered the feelings of panic, of being trapped, and then, another memory. The time when Jacob had shackled and bound her and she had been his prisoner. Both images swam in her mind, and now she did freeze. That feeling of helplessness, of total fear, and of being held down against her will, threatened to consume her.

Darius knew that his body was preventing her from moving freely, but he had been cautious to go slow and not overwhelm her. He had only been trying to kiss her, but he did not miss the way she had turned to stone beneath him, or the ragged breathing that shouted her anxiety more clearly than words ever could. He had to fix this. Now. He would not make her relive that again.

Dearra felt his hand reach over to grip her arm, and just for a second she thought he meant to pin her down, but then he rolled himself onto his back, and she was pulled on top of him. Now
she
was in control, and he was the one pinned beneath her. She was so shocked that she opened her eyes, even though she had been trying to keep them shut. She looked at him in the dancing firelight. Yes, he was now pinned beneath her, but she thought he looked as if he didn’t mind one little bit.

“Better?” he asked. His voice sounded confident, even cocky. He was pleased with the solution he had come up with. He had now put her in charge. She was in the position of power, and he was enjoying the sensation immensely.

“It will do,” she answered, doing her very best to sound disinterested and failing miserably. She didn’t want him to get too full of himself, but based on the foolish grin he wore, it was already too late for that.

“Come, now,” he said “admit it—it is much better.”

“I suppose. At least it’s more comfortable than Carly’s horse.”

That comment earned her an even wider grin, and then he pulled her down to resume their kiss.

***

Somewhere in the hours before dawn, when Darius had memorized the sound of Dearra’s heartbeat, and the honey sweet taste of her kiss, she had stretched out beside him, one leg draped across his as she rested her head on his chest, and had fallen asleep. It had been difficult. They’d explored each other’s bodies, which had been both bliss and torture. There could be no more than that small piece of themselves that could be shared, but he wouldn’t have given up those precious hours for a king’s ransom. He stroked her hair while she slept, and listened to the steady sound of her breathing, until, finally, he was carried off to his own dreams, his arms wrapped securely around her.

The king sat on a straight backed chair, absently rubbing is chin with one hand. The queen was, as usual, by his side. She hadn’t said a word. Dearra was standing before the king, clenching and unclenching her hand. Darius was in the corner of the room, doing his best to become part of the wall. It hadn’t been all that long ago that he was guarded day and night, and to be included in the meeting felt uncomfortable. Shanks, Daniel, Hadden, and a few others of the king’s guard were also present.

“Are you all agreed?” Jaymes asked.

They all nodded or answered in the affirmative.

Dearra thought the king looked tired, but then, they were all tired. The Breken had grown impatient waiting for the citizens of the capital to starve or come forth on their own, and they had started to attack the walls again. The last three weeks had seen the attacks grow in frequency. They would repel one group of Breken and then another would strike from the opposite side of the city.

The fairies had been tested to their limits. Siege engines of varying designs were wheeled forward by lines of Breken troops, and the fairies went to work destroying them, but the Breken had learned, and they had built multiples of the devices before trying to use them. There was no way for the Mirin Tor to keep up with the almost continuous assaults.

Ladders were erected along the walls with alarming speed and efficiency, and battles were being fought along the tops of the walls even as they spoke. No matter how many times they turned the Breken away, it seemed there was an unlimited pool of replacements. It wasn’t a particularly efficient form of attack, and the enemy lost more men than they managed to kill, but what they
were
able to do was keep the Mirin Tor in a constant state of nervous anticipation that was quickly sapping their strength and morale.

“I agree with your assessment,” the king said, breaking into Dearra’s thoughts.

It’s about time. I thought he was never going to come to terms with the reality of our situation.
Brin had been exasperated by the king’s hesitation to make the decision they all knew was necessary, all except him, it would seem.

Shh, I want to hear what he says.
Dearra told Brin, trying to hush him.

Did you seriously just shush me? I’ll have you know, Dearra, that I put up with all of your thoughts day and night, and the ones during the night have been pretty tough to take, let me tell you, and I have never shushed you. Not even once. I—

Please, Brin. I really want to listen. You can scold me later.

Brin grumbled for a moment, but then quieted.

The king stood and began to pace the room. “We have to make for the mountains. There’s no other choice left to us. The food is nearly gone, and the walls are almost completely destroyed in two places. I think the only reason they haven’t come through is that they’re hoping to damage the walls in more spots first, so they’ll be able to attack us from several directions.”

“Majesty,” Shanks said, “if we’re going to make a run for it, it has to be soon, no more than two or three days at the most. When we go, I recommend we send the main force out to meet the Breken. There’s no way around that. We’ll have to go on foot, but that shouldn’t be much of a liability. The Breken have brought very few horses of their own. We’ll need the horses of the capital to carry the wounded as well as draw as many carts as can be gathered for the children. They’re going to have to run, and run hard. Even if we can engage the main forces long enough to give them a chance, it’s going to be bad. We can’t spare more than a few dozen guards to go with them.”

“So few?” Daniel was worried. Carly and Holly would be going out with the rest to make a try for the mountains. As much as he would like to go with them, his place was here, with the main fighting force.

“I’m afraid so, Daniel.” Hadden, Captain of the guard, looked sympathetic to Daniel’s concerns. Some of his own family would be going out with the children. “If we want to get them safely away, we have to hit the Breken in force. We can’t afford to divide our troops. Though we can’t send many, I’ll speak with you after the meeting, and we’ll choose only warriors from Maj. What they’ll lack in numbers can be made up for with skill. We can do that much, at least.”

Daniel nodded. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

There was a knock at the door that startled them. The king had explicitly said they weren’t to be disturbed unless the Breken had breached the walls.

“Enter!” the king called out.

One of the king’s soldiers opened the door and bowed. “Majesty, I—”

“What is it, man? Have the Breken made it through?” The king bellowed, and the man turned first white, then red in embarrassment.

“No, Majesty. The walls still hold, but there is a child to see you.”

“What the—You disturbed us because a child bade you do so?”

“She was very convincing, Majesty.”

“She?”

“Yes, Majesty. It is the Breken child Zusia.”

The king was intrigued, despite himself. “And just how did she manage to convince you to interrupt a war council? Tell me; I would dearly like to know what a twelve-year-old Breken child could say to bring you low.”

The guard turned redder still before answering. “Majesty, she said that she needed to speak to you. She said it was extremely important, and she said that if I would not allow her to see you immediately, she and some of her friends would see to it that our food was laced with enough ground pokeweed root to keep us in the privies for days.”

Darius couldn’t contain the loud guffaw that burst from his chest, but the quelling look Daniel sent his way helped him regain his composure.

Even the king was not immune to the imaginative consequence dreamed up by the Breken child. Outwardly he was able to remain unaffected. Inwardly, however, he was filing that little tactic away for future reference. Pokeweed root was nothing to fool with. While the leaves could be boiled several times and then eaten, too much was dangerous. The roots were especially toxic and would bring on violent vomiting, diarrhea, and dehydration, even death if taken in large enough quantities.

“Bring the child in. I can’t have my troops down with the flux just when we need them most.” King Jaymes waved the guard away with a flick of his hand.

The guard turned to retrieve the child, but as he did so, she darted under his arm and stood, undaunted, before the king. She bowed stiffly, and waited for him to speak.

“Well? What is so urgent that you felt the need to threaten the king’s guard with poisoning?” He couldn’t help but feel a small bit of admiration for her daring.

Zusia’s words came out in a rush. “Your Majesty, I know you’re in here planning to send all the children and most of the women to the mountains to try and escape before the Breken finish takin’…
taking
down the walls.”

“And how do you know that? Have you been spying where you should not be?” The king leveled an icy stare at the girl, but she didn’t so much as flinch under his scrutiny.

“No, Majesty, not spying, but that’s what I would do. You know we’re on our last legs here, and it’s only a matter of time before they come storming through, and when that happens, then what the hell are we— I mean, what in Cyrus’s name are we going to do?”

“Very astute, young lady. And do you have a suggestion to offer?”

“Yes. You’re going to need guards for all those people making a run for it, and you don’t have many to spare. I’ve got thirty archers, who can hit what they aim at, just chomping at the bit to be put to use.”

The king looked her up and down. She was taller than most girls of twelve, which gave her the appearance of being older, but even without the added height, she would have seemed older than her years. It was the eyes. She had seen a lot in her short life, and most of it hadn’t been pretty. She spoke confidently, even with the occasional break to amend her speech. She didn’t strike the king as someone who would make false claims. “Thirty, you say?”

“Majesty? You can’t seriously be considering—” Hadden began, but was cut off by the king.

“I’m seriously considering everything. If they can shoot, then they can shoot and run at the same time, can’t they? Will they be in any more danger with a bow in their hand?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Hadden said tersely. The king had a point, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Now, Zusia, do you truly have thirty archers who, as you say, can hit what they aim at?”

“Majesty, I got…
have
twenty-nine who are accurate from a hundred yards away, and one who does better at fifty yards or less. It’s not as much distance as a grown man with a longbow, but their arms aren’t strong enough or long enough for that yet. They
are
lethal in their range; I guarantee you that.”

“And if I allow this, can they be trusted to shoot only from a distance and not go running off to try and be heroes?”

“You have my word, Your Majesty. If they don’t, I’ll personally beat the sh—

stuffing out of them…Sire.”

“Then kneel, Zusia.”

“Majesty?”

The look of fear that flashed across her features tugged at Jaymes’s heart. She had courage, but that look told him that she was still a little girl. Strong, surely, but not without vulnerabilities.

“I can’t very well have you commanding troops without making you an official citizen and giving you charge over my junior archers, now can I?” he said in a gentle voice.

“No, Majesty! I mean, yes, Majesty! I mean, of course I will kneel, Majesty.”

King Jaymes drew forth his sword as Zusia lowered herself to one knee and gazed in stunned wonder upon his face.

“Zusia, I name you Citizen of Mirin Tor, protector of the people, warrior of Maj, and Sergeant of my junior archers, hereafter to be known as His Majesty’s Falcons. May your arrows fly straight and true in the king’s service.”

Zusia stumbled to her feet. Her head was reeling. “Yes, Your Majesty. We will serve you well.”

“I know you will, child. And Zusia? No more threatening to poison my men. Understand?”

Zuzu flushed. “Yes, Majesty.”