Chapter 25

25

D amon

There is a villager working in one of the fields. As soon as he catches sight of us, he runs for his house, slamming the door.

“That doesn’t bode well.” Damon pulls his coat more firmly around himself.

“I think we’ll avoid that cabin, shall we?” Thesha shakes her head. “You would swear we were trolls or fae soldiers dressed in full garb.”

“Do we just walk up to a house and knock on a door?” Kyrie asks as we near the first homestead. It’s a small cabin with a thatched roof and smoke curling lazily from the chimney. A small, mangy dog jumps up from under a carriage and barks at us, hackles raised.

There is laughter of children from the cabin next door but as soon as they see us, they flee to the safety of the house as well.

The dog keeps barking, eyes on us.

“Hopefully, someone will let us in before this storm hits,” I say. The sky is getting darker. There’s a soft rumble, indicating that a storm is going to hit any minute.

We approach the door of the cabin, and I give a firm knock. We wait, the anticipation heavy in the air. When there is no answer, I knock again, getting the same result: nothing. I’m certain that there is someone inside. I can’t say I blame them for being afraid.

“I don’t think they’re feeling hospitable,” Thesha says, scrunching up her nose.

We start toward the next house. Xander falls back, keeping an eye on our rear. Although it’s doubtful that the fae are lying in wait, it is still a possibility we can’t afford to ignore.

There is a goat tied to the side of the house; it bleats as we approach. I note the small pail and milking chair. There is some milk at the bottom of the pail. It looks like someone abandoned their work and fled to the safety of their house. I have a feeling we are going to get the same welcome as at the last home.

I try anyway, knocking softly. “Good day.” I knock again. “We are looking for lodging and food. We have coin.” I look over at Xander, who nods.

When there is no answer, we keep walking. Homestead after homestead.

“What are we going to do?” Kyrie asks. “Perhaps they’re nervous because there are four of us.”

“It’s more likely because of me and Damon,” Xander says, looking at me.

I nod. Xander and I are not exactly small. We’re tall and muscular. After my years in the salt mines, I’m even bigger than ever. I’m sure the two of us look imposing. It doesn’t help that we’re armed. I don’t blame these folk for being afraid. Our whole realm has become a harsh and inhospitable environment.

“Maybe Thesha and I should go alone and—” Kyrie starts to say.

“No!” Xander and I say in unison.

“We’re quite capable.” Thesha narrows her eyes at Xander.

“Yes, we can do it.” Kyrie sounds a little less sure, but her chin tilts up, and there is defiance in her eyes.

Damn, but she is beautiful. Her hair is loose and blowing in the wind. Her eyes are big and framed by thick lashes. Her skin is like—

A few drops start to fall. It won’t be long before all hell breaks loose. I need to keep my focus. We need horses and supplies. A warm bed would be welcome, too.

“We can absolutely handle ourselves, Kyrie. I have every faith in you. As long as you remember not to slash,” Thesha says.

“I remember. I will stab.” Kyrie moves her hand in a stabbing motion.

“It’s not that we don’t think you’re capable,” I tell them. “I don’t think we should split up. If anything goes wrong—”

We all look toward the sound of an approaching horse. We see a single male on a shaggy mountain pony. He waves as he approaches at a fast lope.

“Greetings, travelers!” the man calls out as he nears us. He has a warm smile on his weathered face and his eyes crinkle at the edges. His hair might be gray, but it is thick, like a mop atop his head.

He jumps off his pony, smiling all the while. When he looks at me, his eyes narrow, and he cocks his head. Then he takes a step back, scrutinizing me all over again. I don’t think he realizes it, but he takes shuffling steps toward me, looking me up and down.

“You look just like our late king, lad,” he mutters. Then he looks up at my face. “Are you His Majesty Lord Kyran? You can’t be the king, for we were informed that he met his end many years ago at Snow’s hand, and yet…you look just like him. The spitting image, only a little older.”

Pain rushes through me. My brother and I were born only one and a half moon-cycles apart. Many said that we looked just like twins. This was more and more the case as we reached adulthood. I was a touch taller and always let my hair grow a little longer; otherwise, we were very similar in all ways. Our features, our coloring, even our mannerisms.

“No,” I husk out. “I’m not Kyran. My name is Damon.”

“Damon.” His eyes narrow for a moment, and I’m sure he’s going to realize that I’m Kyran’s brother, but it doesn’t happen. “I am Grigor.” The rain starts to fall, and he looks up. “I see you are in need of shelter. My cabin is just up the way.” He points to a grove of dying olive trees. “Just beyond those trees in a valley. That’s me. You’re welcome to take refuge. My cabin is too big for just one person. You can’t miss it.”

“That’s kind of you,” Xander says. “We will take you up on your kind offer.” He quickly introduces us as we all pull our hoods over our heads.

“Good to meet you all. I will head back to put some supper on.” With that, Grigor turns and lopes away.

We watch him go as the rain begins to fall harder.

“It could be a trap,” Thesha says.

“That was very convenient,” Damon grumbles.

I sigh.

“We should approach from the opposite side to what he is expecting. We could go to the right of the trees,” Kyrie says. “That way, if there is an ambush, we’ll know about it.”

I smile at Kyrie. “That’s an excellent idea.”

“And just what I was thinking.” Thesha squeezes Kyrie’s arm. “You’re a real warrior in the making.”

Kyrie beams.

We set off as the rain starts to fall in earnest. It’s miserable. We’re going to be soaked by the time we make it to Grigor’s cabin. Although it’s tempting to go straight to his place, we go around the long way to investigate first.

As we round the grove of olive trees, we start to make out the shape of a cabin nestled in the valley below. The rain is coming down harder now, making it difficult to see, which is good. We can use it as a shield.

Thesha points to the right. “Let’s approach from here; it looks like there’s a slight incline.”

We all nod in agreement and begin our cautious descent into the valley. The terrain is rocky and uneven, making our progress slow but steady. We keep our senses on high alert. It is a tense few minutes as we navigate the tricky ground, but eventually, we make it to the base of the hill and into the valley without incident.

All looks quiet.

Grigor’s cabin is a two-story wooden structure, its roof made of thick slab shingles rather than grass. Some of the shingles are missing but have been boarded over. There is moss and lichen growing all over the wooden logs. Grigor was right; it could indeed do with some repairs. Right now, it is a welcome sight if I ever saw one. Everyone gets a spring in their step as we approach.

On the roof, two chimneys are smoking, which means warmth. The oilskins help to keep us dry but with dark steadily falling, it’s getting more bitterly cold by the second.

I look around as we draw nearer, and nothing looks out of place.

“What do you think?” Xander asks me.

“I’ll go and take a closer look,” Thesha says. “Just to be sure.”

“Be careful, love.” Xander gives her a kiss on the top of her head, and Thesha rushes away.

We huddle under the cover of a tree. It looks like it was once a mighty oak, now only clinging to life. Rain continues to lash down.

It doesn’t take long for Thesha to return. “It’s just Grigor inside. Let’s go.”

We don’t walk but run to the house, laughing as we arrive at the door. I knock, and this time, the door is opened.

“Come in, come in.” Grigor smiles as he invites us into his home, which is surprisingly comfortable and very spacious.

We step inside, immediately feeling the warmth of the fire that burns in the large hearth at the center of the room. The walls are lined with wooden shelves filled with bottles of wine and dried meats hanging from hooks.

“I thought I’d get a fire going. Take off those wet clothes and warm yourselves.” Grigor gestures for us to make ourselves comfortable. “I’ll fetch blankets and fresh garments. I have a few items from my late wife that might fit you ladies. I may also have one or two oversized tunics, but they’ll still be a tight fit for you big fae lads.” He laughs from somewhere deep in his belly.

“That would be great,” I tell him.

There are wooden pegs by the door. We remove our coats and hang them there.

Grigor returns with towels and blankets. “I have a washroom through there.” He points at a closed door. “I have the fire going in the washroom, so there will be warm water for the bath soon enough.”

“You have a bath?” Kyrie asks, her eyes bright.

“Yes, and plenty of water. You can all bathe and change, but first, something to drink. Supper will be ready soon. It’s rabbit stew.”

My stomach rumbles at the thought of a hot meal.

Kyrie groans.

“Sounds wonderful. Thank you, Grigor,” Thesha says.

Grigor pulls the cork from a bottle. “Anyone for a glass of blackberry wine? It’s excellent. My late wife, Isolde, had the touch. She was a gifted winemaker. Actually, she was gifted at most things; I was a lucky man indeed.” He gets this wistful look. “I still have a couple of bottles left.” He holds it up.

“You should save your wife’s wine. Don’t waste it on us,” Thesha tells him.

He waves a hand. “We don’t get many visitors in these parts anymore. My dear Issy loved entertaining; she’d want me to open a bottle or two.”

Outside, the wind howls, and the rain continues to fall in earnest.

“In that case, a glass of blackberry wine would be wonderful,” Xander says. “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a good glass of wine.”

“Let’s sit at the table.” Grigor gestures to a long wooden table.

He pours us all a glass of wine in pretty pewter goblets and then returns with a jug of water and a couple of glasses.

“To new friends.” He holds up his goblet, and we touch them together before drinking. It’s strong but delicious.

“You weren’t lying about your wife’s winemaking skills.” Xander takes another sip. “This is wonderful.”

“Let me check on the soda bread.” Grigor stands.

“There’s bread?” Kyrie pushes out a breath.

“And butter. I churned some this morning.”

She makes this little breathy noise that has my balls pulling tight.

Not now!

I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable. Grigor jumps up and goes to the hearth to check on his bread. The scent of food makes me salivate.

Kyrie takes a big glug of her wine. “This is delicious. I don’t remember wine ever tasting this good.” She takes another big sip.

“Easy does it there, love. It’s strong.” I realize my mistake, but it’s too late to take it back.

Xander and Thesha give each other a look and then look at me with glinting eyes.

Kyrie’s cheeks go bright red. I’ve always found it adorable how quick she is to react. How she can’t hide her feelings, especially embarrassment.

“Um…it’s just…um, go easy, Kyrie, or you’ll be sorry tomorrow. Blackberry wine is dangerous,” I mutter, trying to cover up. It doesn’t work very well; it only serves to make it worse.

Thesha giggles, and I know she’s about to say something when Grigor arrives carrying a huge loaf of bread on a wooden plank.

“Let me help you.” Kyrie jumps up, her cheeks blazing.

“I’ll help, too,” I say, standing.

It doesn’t take long before all the plates and crockery are on the table, together with a pot of steaming stew. It smells and looks incredible.

Soon, the rhythmic sound of eating fills the room, and for a time, no one speaks. We’re too busy stuffing our mouths. The only sounds are the odd groans and moans of enjoyment and requests to pass the bread.

Once we have sated the worst of our hunger, conversation flows easily as we all share silly stories and trade jokes. Grigor regales us with tales of Isolde and their life together, painting a picture of a vibrant and loving woman who was taken too soon.

“Did you have children?” Kyrie asks, pushing away her empty plate and rubbing her belly. We’ve eaten too much, but who knows when we will be able to eat like this again.

“We were never blessed with babes.” Grigor smiles; there’s sorrow in his eyes. “But we were never short on love and joy. Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

My heart yearns for such a love. I look over at Kyrie and have to swallow down a thickness that develops in my throat.

“Through love, all things are possible. You youngsters would do well to remember that.” He looks at each of us in turn.

I look at Kyrie again and catch her looking at me. Our gazes lock. Her eyes look shimmery with unshed tears. She blinks a few times and then sniffs, quickly taking a sip of her wine.

“Can I use your washroom, Grigor? Would anyone object if I bathed first?” Kyrie asks.

“Of course, young Kyrie. I put out a few dresses and things that I thought you ladies might like to wear. I will wash your clothes and put them in front of the fire to dry in time for nightlift tomorrow. That goes for all of you.”

“You’re too kind, Grigor,” Thesha says.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He waves a hand.

“I will be as quick as I can,” Kyrie says as she walks toward the washroom.

“You should take your time,” Thesha shouts after her. “I certainly will.”

Kyrie throws us a smile over her shoulder before disappearing behind the door.

“Let me fetch some more wine.” Grigor stands with a flourish. “I will have to go down to the cellar.”

“Please, don’t worry,” Thesha says. “You’ve done so much already. We—”

“I insist. It’s no bother at all.” He heads to a door on the far side of the room, taking a candle with him.

“Maybe you should go and help your friend , Damon.” Thesha smirks. “She might need her back washed.”

“Don’t start,” I whisper, trying to hold back a grin.

“Thesha would have my balls if I called a friend ‘love’.” Xander is smirking, too.

“Stop!” I lift my brows. “It was an accident. It didn’t mean anything.” The last is a lie, but I’m not taking it back.

Thesha chokes out a laugh. “That’s some mistake, and it most certainly meant something.”

“Look, I really like Kyrie. We—” I start to say.

“Are just friends.” Thesha pulls a face. “Don’t even try that one with us. We have eyes. Friends don’t look at friends the way the two of you look at each other.”

“How does Kyrie look at me?” It just slips out.

Thesha giggles softly. “Like if you’d offered her a choice between you or a warm meal after days of eating dry rations, she’d choose you every time. And I’m not talking about friendly hugs. I’m talking—”

“Okay…okay…I get it.” I’m smiling. I can’t get the grin off my face. I shake my head. “I can’t. We can’t. It just won’t work.”

“Why not? You have feelings for this human,” Xander says. “She clearly has feelings for you. What are your plans?”

“We still need to discuss our plans. I don’t have plans that don’t involve saving the realm from Snow.”

“The plans are to overthrow the evil villain, but first, we need to find the others,” Xander says. He doesn’t need to specify. I know who he means. We need to find the rest of the lost kings.

I nod. “That’s my point exactly; my future is fraught with danger. My sole purpose is to take back my kingdom. To take back the whole realm. I refuse to put Kyrie in the path of danger. Therefore, we cannot be on the same path. We cannot be together. I need her safe. Only then will I be able to concentrate on what needs to be done. On my responsibilities.”

“You do know that she’s stronger than you think.” Thesha gives me a hard look. “She’s not some wilting flower. Have you asked her what she wants?”

“Not exactly, but she did say that she doesn’t know what she wants, that she’s confused, and scared, and tired of running.”

“Aren’t we all?” Thesha snorts. “The time for running will end soon enough.”

“If anything happened to her, I—”

“So what? You’ll drop her off at some village and return in a moon cycle or two to find that she died falling from a horse or that the fae took her back to the mines, but you weren’t there to protect her this time.”

“Don’t say that,” I all but snarl. The thought is abhorrent to me.

“Or maybe married. You’ll find her with a babe in her arms and another on the way.” Thesha lifts her brows as horror fills me.

“As long as she is alive and well, I would be happy,” I say.

“Only you can’t know that for—” Xander starts to say when Grigor arrives.

“Here we go.” He closes the door, walking toward us, another bottle of blackberry wine in his hands. “This was a fantastic year.” He holds the bottle aloft.

“It’s true, Damon,” Xander says in a soft voice. “You’ve probably pictured her alive and well and waiting for you when you return, and you might be wrong, my friend.”

“Why all the serious faces?” Grigor asks as he uncorks the wine.

“I’d love some more.” Thesha smiles, holding up her goblet. “We were talking about when to set out tomorrow. It’s going to be difficult to leave the comforts of your cabin.”

“You are welcome to stay as long as you wish.” Grigor starts to pour.

“If only.” Thesha sounds wistful.

I’m reeling a little. Is that what I expected? To topple Snow and then to return to Kyrie, to find her alive and well and waiting, even though I would never ask that of her. Perhaps Xander is right. Thinking that way will make it easier to leave her.

It doesn’t matter what I want or what I will end up longing for.

It doesn’t change anything. If Kyrie died at my side, I would never forgive myself. I have to try to protect her as best I can.