Authors: Janelle Stalder
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Romance, #Adventure, #action, #Fantasy, #battles, #youngadult
“He’s here,” he said to Callum, making the
prince sit up straight. “We need to meet now.” Callum pushed his
chair back, rising immediately. They both hurried out of the tent,
neither of them looking at her as they left.
Slowly getting up, shaking her legs out
momentarily because they both had fallen asleep, she walked over to
the entrance and peeked out through the tiny slit of the flaps. The
whole camp seemed to be moving: men bustled about, shouting at one
another. She looked at the expressions on their faces, and each one
wore a look of apprehension, one could say almost fear. Rose had no
idea who had come, but she knew something big was happening, which
made her more afraid than she could say.
They hurried across the camp, heading for
Brutus’s tent on the far side. When they walked in, they saw him
standing there already, his back turned toward them.
“Aziz,” Brutus greeted him. “It is about
time you joined us.” It was said lightly, but Callum read the
accusation underlining it. He knew how angry Brutus was that they
hadn’t known where Aziz was located all this time. It didn’t make
sense that he would keep it from them, especially since they were
all in this together. It bothered Callum too, but he had become
accustomed to this man’s eccentricities.
As Aziz turned toward them, Callum almost
gasped out loud. He had never seen a man so changed in such a short
period of time. The once tall, strong-looking man, with his rich
brown skin and dark eyes, was now withered and pale. His eyes
constantly darted around the room, like he couldn’t concentrate on
one spot. He looked mad, like the men you would see who had been
taken by spirits. His hands shook as he held his staff, his nails
long and black. It was like looking at the ghost of the man, a
fraction of what he once had been. They knew that he had been
creating a large army of beasts, fanatic in his magic, but this was
completely unexpected. He had explained to them, before he had even
started making any, that to make the creatures correctly, to ensure
that they would be loyal only to him, he would need to give each
one of them a part of himself. He had said it would link them to
him better, and help him feel what they were feeling when they were
far away. It was useful, but it had clearly taken a toll on the man
himself.
“Aziz,” Callum greeted him, nodding his head
politely. He didn’t know what else to say, how to react in front of
this thing. He almost didn’t look like a man at all, the bones in
his face sticking out, his long hair knotted and unwashed.
“Something has happened,” he said. His voice
was like a snake hissing, not the strong, deep voice it had been
only a few months ago.
“What?” Brutus asked, appearing unfazed by
his change in appearance like Callum was. That, or Brutus hid it
better than he did.
“One of my beasts fought a boy by the
forest, one of two young King’s men practicing near the edge. He
thought it an easy fight, seeing the inexperience of the boy, and
he was hungry.”
Callum sat down on one of the low sofas that
Brutus had in his tent. It had been given to him by Aziz, a
magnificent piece of furniture common in their parts. The fabric
was intricately woven, with threads that sparkled in the light. The
wooden arms were carved by hand, depicting the ivy and lilies that
floated in their waters. Callum didn’t mind it, except that it was
so low to the ground, another common thing in their parts. He
didn’t understand the concept—it made it much more difficult to get
up afterward. Perhaps that was the point, he thought, to make
people sit longer and relax.
“What is the problem then?” Brutus asked,
annoyed. “Get to the point already.” Callum looked at him in
warning, silently asking him to be patient.
Aziz didn’t seem to be bothered by his
rudeness, picking up his story where he had paused. “The boy—he
killed the beast.”
Callum and Brutus looked at each other
questioningly. It wasn’t that alarming to have one killed. The boy
must have gotten lucky.
Aziz continued, not waiting for either to
speak. “He didn’t complete the kill, however, before my beast bit
him in the leg. That is where the problem arises. He didn’t taste
right.”
“Didn’t taste right?” Callum asked,
confused. “How do you know that?”
“What does that even mean?” Brutus asked,
clearly confounded.
“I sense everything that happens to them. I
can taste what they taste, hear, see, feel what they do. This one
didn’t taste right; there is something different about him. I sent
another to watch afterward, and it saw him in the woods later. His
leg was healed, completely. We could not smell any open or torn
flesh. It was as if there was no bite at all.”
We could not smell
, Callum echoed in
revulsion. He spoke as if they were one. It was almost
sickening.
“How is that possible? The witch, perhaps?”
Brutus asked, turning toward Callum.
“I think not,” Callum replied. “She is not a
healer.”
“This is their weapon,” Aziz hissed. “The
one we wondered about, the one thing that will give them an
advantage. Whatever this boy is, they have him to use against
us.”
Brutus looked at Callum, his thoughts
perfectly read through his eyes. The man thought Aziz was crazy,
and Callum was quick to agree with him. What kind of weapon could
one boy provide for a whole army? The idea was slightly
ludicrous.
“I don’t see how one boy could make a
difference against your creations,” Callum said, keeping his voice
respectful. The last thing they wanted to do was insult this
man.
“He is not a normal boy, I promise you
that.”
Brutus shrugged. “All right, you point him
out to us on the battlefield, and we’ll make sure to take him out
first. Does that help matters?”
Aziz hesitated, looking from one to another
with his quick, wandering eyes. “I will not be at the battle; it
would be too dangerous. I must go back at once, to continue my work
there.” They had expected that. “My beasts know his face—I have
told them all. To make sure there are no mistakes, however, I have
brought you something else to use against him. He might survive a
bite, but he won’t survive this.”
Rose waited up for Callum to return, which
was out of the norm for her. She didn’t know why she felt the need
to wait, but her curiosity was overwhelming. Something was
happening, and she wanted to know what. It was doubtful he’d even
tell her, but she’d have to try.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, she looked
around at the tent. It amazed her that she had lasted this long on
the road. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had slept in
an actual bed, she thought sadly, bouncing slightly on the cushion
beneath her. The home back in their village felt like a distant
memory. It had been only a couple of weeks, but her old life seemed
foreign to her already. The only reason why she continued with the
army, the only reason she hadn’t tried to run again, was Felix. She
needed to get to him, to tell him about their parents, if he didn’t
already know, and to show him that she was okay. They still had
each other, and that would be enough.
Callum walked in while she found herself
bouncing again on the bed. His face looked shocked to see her
there. Normally, she would have been asleep already, so her
presence still awake was surprise enough.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Waiting for you,” she answered, ignoring
what he really meant. She stopped bouncing immediately. He eyed her
bed on the floor knowingly, but didn’t press the matter.
“Waiting for what exactly?” He crossed the
floor of the tent to his usual chair. Sitting down, he started to
take off his boots, and pulled his shirt over his head, to reveal
his defined chest. She hated it when he did that—it made her
nervous. Ignoring his skin, she focused on the conversation.
“I wanted to know what was going on.
Everyone seems to be nervous, or afraid of something. Who has come
tonight?”
He smiled slightly, standing up to pull his
pants off.
“Callum!” she cried out, shocked. Covering
her eyes, she could hear him snickering, even though she couldn’t
see him. “That is not appropriate. Please put your pants back
on!”
“You’re the one who decided to stay awake
this long. I’m just following my usual routine at the end of a long
day. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to squeeze in behind
you and go to bed.”
She stood up instantly, keeping her hand in
front of her face, her eyes cast down. Since she could not see, she
ended up slamming right into his naked chest. Realizing quickly
that it was not a good idea to keep her eyes down, as he wore no
undergarments, she looked up quickly, her face hot. He was looking
down at her, an amused smile on his face.
“This is not funny,” she protested.
“Maybe not for you,” he said lightly. “Are
you just going to stand there?”
Their bodies were extremely close, she
realized again, making her face go even hotter. Quickly moving to
the side, he crawled into bed, pulling the covers over him.
“Better?” he asked, smiling. She stood
wide-eyed, shocked by the events that had just so quickly taken
place. Walking to the end of the bed, she lowered herself onto her
bed, and lay down where he couldn’t see her anymore. It would take
a while for the colour to leave her face again.
“Are you not going to answer my question?”
she asked, after letting some silence pass.
“No,” he replied, saying nothing more.
She sat up, looking over at him. It was hard
to see his face at the front of the bed, but in case he could see
hers clearly, she kept a very offended expression on.
“Why not?”
“It does not concern you,” he said mildly.
“You are a prisoner of this war, remember? Why would I discuss
anything with you?”
She felt hurt, slightly wounded by his
rejection. It hadn’t occurred to her that he would refuse so
strongly—she had hoped that he would trust her by now. She stayed
silent, lying back down on her pillow.
After more silence passed, he finally spoke
again. “If you are tired of sleeping on the ground, you are welcome
to share my bed with me.” Her cheeks grew hot again. “To sleep, of
course, is what I meant,” he corrected himself.
“No, thank you,” she said firmly, like a
stubborn child who hadn’t gotten her way before. She couldn’t see
him, but she was almost certain he was smiling. He smiled a lot
more now than he did when they first met.
“It is much more comfortable up here than it
is down there.”
“I said no.”
Silence. Then, “If you come here, I’ll tell
you who came.”
She couldn’t believe it. What a horrible
thing to do, to bribe a person. Did he think her so weak that she
would actually fall for that? She didn’t even bother replying,
lying still on her bed. Well, it wasn’t really a bed, she thought.
It was a cover on the floor, and a blanket made of thick fur on
top. The ground, and all the bumps and rocks in it, were easily
felt through the lower blanket, digging into her back and sides as
she slept. She had gotten used to it by now, finding it normal to
wake up stiff and sore. An actual bed would be nice for one night,
she thought again. Rose shook her head, pushing back those
thoughts. It was a ridiculous idea, and he was using her curiosity
about the camp’s events to his advantage. She had made it clear to
him from the beginning that she would not have relations with him,
and so far he had respected that.
The air that night was cold, unusual for so
late in the spring. There was moisture in the ground, making
everything feel damp, colder. There was also a small rock right
under her lower back that was digging into her. Cursing, she threw
off her blankets and got up. Even nature seemed to be against her.
Walking over to the side of the bed, she looked down hesitantly.
Callum lifted his head in surprise.
“I will not go under your blankets,” she
said, holding her fur blanket in one hand. “I have never lain with
a man, especially not a naked one, and I don’t plan on doing so
now.”
He didn’t say a word, moving over, closer to
the tent wall, to make room for her. Sighing, she lay down beside
him, pulling her blanket up to her chin. The bed was like lying on
a cloud. She was pretty certain there was better, since this
mattress was used for camping, but compared to the floor, it was
heaven. She sighed again, this time in delight. Again, she could
tell he was smiling, even though she couldn’t see him in the
dark.
“Don’t act so smug,” she said. “There was a
rock under my back.”
“Of course,” he replied, keeping his voice
as neutral as possible. She hated it when he did that. He was
silent for a minute before he continued. “Aziz came into camp,” he
said in a low voice. “That is why everyone is nervous.”
“Does he not come here often?”
“No, almost never. He is … greatly
changed.”
She turned her head to look at him. “In what
manner?”
“His physical appearance,” he said. She
almost thought she felt him shudder slightly. “The magic he is
doing is taking a large toll on him. It is unnerving.”
Rose stayed silent, wondering what kind of
magic could have such an effect on a person. She had never seen the
sorcerer before, only heard stories about his talents. It was well
known that he was their greatest asset in this war. Whatever had
changed about him, certainly seemed to disturb Callum. Rose found
that unsettling herself. It was odd that even he would be nervous
around the man he was allies with.
Eventually, his breathing became slower, and
she knew he was asleep. It made her uneasy to be so close to him,
but the comfort of having a cushion under her was worth it. Closing
her eyes, she had her first good sleep in weeks.
“Callum!” she heard Brutus call. He stormed
through the flaps, stopping in shock. Both of them sat up, looking
at him confusedly. The light outside told her it was already late
in the morning. Neither of them had slept that late before, she
realized. A slow smile grew on Brutus’s face as he regarded them.
Only then did Rose realize they were still in bed together. Her
face grew hot. “Well, good morning,” he said slyly.