18. Killian

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

KILLIAN

H ector was a sublime creature. Covered in sweat and soot and focused so deeply on his thoughts that nothing else penetrated—not my presence, not Abram's voice, not even the clanging of metal throughout the smithy. He was like a muse of Crane legends, detached from humanity, yet standing among us, inspiring art wherever he went.

I wanted to paint him, which was decidedly odd, since unlike Cranes of old, I'd never once in my life set brush to paper.

It was just... something about the way the muscles stretched beneath his skin, the flex and movement of him, the light in his eyes... they made me want to turn my whole life upside down for him.

It sounded like one of those "romantic" tragedies people in the southlands wrote about people who abandoned duty in favor of love, and then died horribly. They were supposed to be lessons, I supposed, like fairy tales were supposed to teach children not to go into the woods alone, they were supposed to teach older people that abandoning duty for love could only end badly.

I'd never been tempted before, though. Never even considered the possibility of walking away from my work, let alone for a single person.

Fuck.

Was that what love was?

No, that was ridiculous. Hector would never even dream of asking such a thing. He was as mired in duty as I was. Duty to his brother and sister.

And now, as a citizen of Nemeda, duty to us as well.

Abram stepped between us, blocking my view of Hector, and part of me wanted to knock the old bastard down, but when I glared over at him, he was watching me, something akin to fascination in his eyes.

I cleared my throat, turning. "I'll just get back to work then. You know how it is. Always a thousand things to do."

"Indeed," Abram agreed.

Hector didn't even look up from his work, those beautiful brown eyes almost feverish with the racing thoughts beneath.

Fuck me entirely.

I avoided the smithy for close to a week, even after Balthazar came through and delivered the things we'd asked for. I didn't want to see the way Hector's eyes lit up at being given what he wanted, and supported the way everyone should have always supported him. Didn't want to watch his so-nimble fingers run over his tools with determination and strength.

I didn't find myself doodling those strong hands on the pages of budgets and requests I was filling out while working.

Not at all.

Crumpling the third ruined page that afternoon, I threw it in the fire. It would figure if I were the only Crane ever born who not only didn't have the time to paint people, but didn't have the talent for it either.

Not that making little doodles of hands and musculature and... other things when I was supposed to be working wasn't bad enough, but they were never quite right. They didn't capture the motion beneath them. The life. The beauty.

They were just lines on paper.

Giving up on focus for the day—I'd never been a man suited to long stints of mathematics and such—I headed out to the wall to do some of my weekly inspections. They were easy. I'd been doing them for over twenty years, and I could do them in my sleep.

Which was good, since muddleheaded appeared to be the only way I spent my life anymore.

When I got to Orestes's small section of wall, though, the man himself wasn't on patrol, but the men assigned to him weren't focused on their work, so much as they were staring at Hector.

Hector, who was piecing together a very large crossbow-like contraption in their space.

I blinked, staring. It had been days since the supplies had arrived from owl lands. Less than a week.

How was it even possible to finish the plans in such a short time, let alone make the damn thing and be there, assembling it?

"Are you... finished?" I asked, coming up beside him. "Already?"

He paused in his work, looking over at me, then back at where he was nailing two pieces together.

I huffed, rolling my eyes. "I mean that I didn't expect you to have a prototype ready for weeks. Months, even. It was an enormous project."

His cheeks flushed pink, and he glanced away. "It's... I do that sometimes. When someone gives me a meaty problem, I sort of... fall into it, and work until I figure out the answer. Sorry if you didn't want me up here. I just had to get it done. I wanted to make sure I put it in a place with the best visibility, and... but you don't want me on the wall at all, do you?"

I shook my head, and when his lips tightened into an annoyed moue, corrected the misconception with words. Or, well, tried to. I'd never been any better with words than math. "No, no, it's fine. You're fine. I'm not complaining that you're here."

His gaze brightened, and I turned a glare on Orestes's men behind him. "Though apparently other people can't handle the distraction."

They both leapt back to work, on either side of where Hector and I stood, scanning the horizon for any sign of southlanders.

Hector frowned. "I didn't mean to get anyone in trouble."

"You did not." I motioned to him. "You are doing precisely what I asked you to, only faster than I'd imagined possible. It's their job to stand guard while you do your work."

He still seemed suspicious, glancing to the men, who were hard at work now, but after a moment, he turned back to look at me and nodded. "Then it's... it's not a problem? That I'm here?"

As much as some small part of me wanted to hustle him right off the wall, get him away from any hint of danger, that was ridiculous. He was a grown man, and he knew what he was doing. Orestes and Abram had both been right, and I'd been acting an overbearing ass.

"Of course it isn't. I appreciate you doing this. Can I help?"

For some reason, his eyes lit at that, and five minutes later, he had me holding pieces in place for him to assemble the very impressive piece of machinery. It seemed somehow more complicated than a normal crossbow to me, but what did I know about building things? I put my hands where he told me to, and held things when he ordered it. It was nothing new. I'd taken orders many times in the past, and was sure I'd do the same again.

My stomach was just starting to grumble for a meal break, and the relief guards were arriving, when Hector stepped back, smiling. "There we are. Do you want to do the honors and see if it works, or shall I?"

All four guards paused, and the woman whom I knew to be Orestes's second-in-command stepped forward—Viola, I thought her name was. "Due respect, milord, what is it? I'd hate to think you're giving us a new responsibility and we don't know how to handle it."

"It's a bolt thrower," I told her. "Like a crossbow, only—" I waved at the enormous thing, since I thought the difference was rather apparent. Then I turned back to Hector. "You should be the first, since you built it. Invented it and built it."

Hector flushed and looked away, ducking his head, but turned to load the huge spikes into the thing. They were terrifying, frankly—as big around as my wrist and as long as my forearm. I was glad I wasn't going to be on the other side of the wall.

"I didn't invent it, really," he mumbled as he worked. "I just used the plans for crossbows that already existed. And changed them a little."

"I'm almost certain that means you invented it," Viola said, cocking her head at him. "As my lord always says, take credit for everything you do, be it good or bad. People will listen when you speak, if you have a reputation for honesty."

Fuck, she was quoting me. To Hector.

I cleared my throat, flushing, and turned back to him. "Is there any trick to loading it, different than a regular crossbow?"

"Not especially. It is a little more difficult, since the force we needed to throw the bolts is more, because they're bigger. And the firing mechanism is a little different." He smiled wide at all four guards, who were all still there despite the fact that I was sure two of them had just been relieved. They stayed, though, as did we all, rapt at his explanation of how his invention worked.

When, in the course of his lesson, he aimed the thing at a tree and fired, we all stood there with our breaths tight in our chests, staring... Until the tree exploded in a shower of wood chips, an entire branch knocked off. Two of the guards cheered, and a third leaned far over the wall, as though he didn't believe what he was seeing and needed to get closer.

Viola gave a low whistle, nodding to first Hector, then me. "We're honored you've chosen us to have the first one, milords. We'll do our very best to prove worthy of your faith in us."

Hector blinked at her in shock, as though it had never occurred to him that the people on the wall would be grateful for what he'd made.

I nodded to her. "Hector chose the spot, but I think he chose rightly. I'm sure you lot will do well." Clapping her on the shoulder, I squeezed tight, then looked at the others. "Do you need Hector to show you again, or do you think you have it?"

"I think I've got it," her partner said quickly. "But we could use more bolts, so we can practice some and still have ammunition for an attack."

"Abram has someone working on them now," he promised. "Poor Nym has just been making wooden bolts for days now. I didn't bring them up because I had so much else to carry."

One of the guards who wasn't supposed to be on duty anymore perked up. "We'll go get them."

"As long as you have enough time off," I cautioned.

He waved me away. "Tomorrow's our day off. We're fine. And I want to practice, see how it goes."

I chuckled and shook my head, motioning Hector over to me. "Very well. Just be careful with it, everyone. I wouldn't want Hector to have to come repair it right after installing it."

But we were already gone in their minds, their attention focused entirely on the incredible boon Hector had given them. Given us.

Fuck, I wanted to kiss him.

But no. I wasn't allowed that. He'd decided that if I wasn't willing to be fully involved, he didn't want me, and that was his right.

So it came as a bit of a surprise when the moment we were in the tower stairway, ready to head down to the palace, Hector spun on me, pushing me up against the wall, and kissed me with a fervor I'd never before felt in my life.

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling his body against me.

He was about to be in for a surprise, when I didn't put up an argument at all.