Chapter 13
What happens in the dark…is difficult to discern.
~ Sandsteader Proverb
Pressed against Vlerion’s body, with her feet dangling in the air, Kaylina wanted to protest his manhandling, but the footsteps grew louder.
“Zerek?” the running man called.
Sword out, Vlerion had started to thrust Kaylina into the alcove with the statue, as though he would leave her and spring out to attack the man, but hearing the voice seemed to change his mind. With his arm wrapped around her waist, he stepped into the alcove with her. He paused only to lean out and toss his torch down the tunnel and into the pool. It hit the water and went out. He lowered Kaylina so he could snuff her lantern, then stepped as far back into the alcove as possible, pulling her with him.
She found herself in the dark, wedged between the horned Kar’ruk statue and Vlerion, with the sarcophagus close enough to use as an arm rest. What a cozy spot.
His body was almost as hard as the stone statue, and she would have shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the footsteps were coming closer. The speaker slowed from a run. Had he sensed them?
Vlerion leaned his head close, his lips brushing Kaylina’s ear. The intimate touch startled her, especially given their current situation. Her body responded in a most inappropriate way, with a tingle of warmth that shot to her core.
“I know the name he spoke,” Vlerion breathed softly in her ear. Sharing information, not nuzzling her. He drew back once the words were out.
She didn’t say anything back, not wanting to give away their hiding spot.
“Zerek?” came another call, closer this time. “Are you still in here?”
“Back here, Legdar,” another man called from a distance. His voice came from the far end of the grotto or maybe the walkway along the river.
“I think those kids from the castle know about the catacombs,” the first speaker—Legdar—said. A big man carrying an axe, he walked past the alcove without glancing in. “I heard the boy calling for his sister from the root cellar.”
The realization that these people not only knew about Kaylina and her brother but had been watching them closely enough to know their relationship chilled her.
“Kids?” Zerek laughed shortly. “That sweet southern vixen is most assuredly a woman. I’ve been thinking of visiting her one night.”
“Oh, yeah, she’s a nice piece of ass. I’d take her against a tree in a heartbeat.”
Horror and humiliation flushed Kaylina’s cheeks as they spoke about her.
“It’s her tits that make me hard, but I’d be a gentleman and offer her a bed.”
A soft rumble came from Vlerion’s chest. Or… was that a growl? His arm tightened around her. Protectively?
She looked up at him, a faint hint of light from the grotto letting her see that his face was toward the tunnel. The men had met near the entrance, and, unfortunately, Kaylina had no trouble hearing their words.
“Guess that’s why you’re the boss, Zerek. But I like the excitement of standing and taking ’em from behind.”
That prompted them to share their preferences for positions and muse whether she was a screamer or not.
It was too dark to see Vlerion’s expression, but he must have felt her gaze, for his head turned back toward her. He bent to whisper in her ear again. “This is not the conversation I hoped to overhear.” His body was tense with that same irritation he’d radiated in the tunnel. This time, it wasn’t directed at her, and she didn’t fear it—or him. She was glad he was there and didn’t even mind being jammed between him and the statue.
After hearing another comment about her tits, Vlerion shifted, raising his sword arm. To rush out and attack them?
“It’s okay,” Kaylina breathed, resting a hand on his chest.
It wasn’t, but she realized he’d hoped to overhear useful information about the Virts and their plans. Assuming they could get over their obsession with her anatomy, they might yet share that. She leaned her face against Vlerion’s shoulder, willing them to get on with it.
He shifted his arm from her waist up to gently cup the back of her head. To offer comfort? She hadn’t expected solicitude from him, not for someone like her. For someone like Ghara, maybe.
Vlerion stroked the back of her head, and she melted against him. Damn, that felt good. She believed he meant to offer comfort, not turn her on, but his touch sent more tingles through her, and she almost forgot the conversation taking place twenty feet away.
“Milzy talked to them,” Zerek said. “It sounds like they might be sympathetic to us. They were arrested by the rangers and only got out of jail because of the breakout for Wedgewick.”
Vlerion’s hand froze.
Kaylina’s heart started galloping in her chest. Not because of humiliation this time but because she worried Vlerion would believe she’d been more interested in Milzy’s entreaty than she had been. What if he thought Kaylina had agreed to spy for the Virts and planned to share everything she learned about the rangers?
“Good. They might have ties to the southern provinces. We could use some allies down there. You know Cougar’s been trying to open up a supply line, get more food and munitions and men to help us. We outnumber the nobles a thousand to one. It shouldn’t be this hard to recruit people to overthrow the king and elect one of our own to be in charge of the nation.”
“People are afraid of the rangers. You know how savage and ruthless they are.”
Maybe Vlerion forgot the insinuation that Kaylina had spoken with one of the Virt girls, or he simply found this turn of the conversation more agreeable, because he returned to stroking the back of her head. Was he still doing it to comfort her? The men were thankfully not talking about her now.
Maybe she should have pulled back, as much as she could in the cramped quarters, but her body wasn’t interested in that. She slumped more fully against Vlerion and let him stroke her hair. After all she’d been through this week, she deserved a gentle touch.
Vlerion was probably thinking of Ghara, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if anything would come of a few head touches. Even if Kaylina found them more exhilarating than she should have.
“That’s the truth,” one man said. “The rangers don’t care that we’re human beings and not those rabid mountain monsters.”
Vlerion’s hand lowered to rub Kaylina’s neck. She barely refrained from letting out a groan of pleasure. Her muscles were knotted after nights of poor sleep on the castle floor, and when his fingers worked on the tight spots, she wanted to rub against him to demonstrate how amazing that felt. She didn’t, but she did lift her hands to grip his shoulders, even daring to trace the hard muscles with her thumbs.
“They go into battle lust and lop heads off like you’re nothing to them,” one of the men continued. “Except for that Vlerion. He’s a stone-cold killer. No lust there. He’s like one of them Kar’ruk statues come to life.”
“Wish we could talk him into joining our side. He’s not as vocal about the superiority of the nobility as a lot of the rangers.”
Sure, they talked about her anatomy and thrusting her against a tree, and they admired Vlerion and wanted to befriend him.
“He’d run you through as quick as he did Dededrak and Timmar.”
“I know, but if we could turn him…”
Another faint growl rumbled from Vlerion’s chest. Because they were talking about him betraying his people, Kaylina told herself, not because her shoulder rub excited him.
“Let’s worry about our upcoming plans for now. One step at a time. We’ve got to get everything staged before Wedgewick is ready. You know he wants attacks and distractions from multiple fronts.”
A distant call sounded. Someone else coming up the river?
Vlerion’s hand on Kaylina’s taut muscles stilled, and disappointment rushed into her. It wasn’t as if she’d expected him to keep rubbing her neck while more enemies arrived, but she wished the rebels would go away and—
And what? She could get busy with a haughty ranger next to a tomb? Sure, that would happen.
The men spoke again, but they’d moved farther into the grotto. To join whoever was coming?
“Is Hazlin with you?” one called, the words clear.
The distant answer sounded like, “Next boat.”
“Stay here,” Vlerion whispered, his lips brushing Kaylina’s ear again.
She was positive he didn’t mean his whispers to be erotic, and he was brushing her ear because it was dark and he couldn’t see where it was, but her body didn’t know that.
“For your safety,” he added. “From… everything.”
From everything? What did that mean?
His lips grazed her cheek as he pulled back. An accident, she told herself, however appealing it had been.
When he stepped away, easing out of the alcove with his sword in hand, she grew starkly aware of the cool damp air and missed the warmth of his body.
Kaylina rubbed her face and told herself to concentrate on the situation. There were at least three enemies out there now, three enemies who considered rangers foes to be dealt with. Even if Vlerion had been dismissive of her offer of help, she would use her sling if she saw an opportunity to assist him.
Before, she’d been reluctant to raise a weapon against fellow commoners, but after listening to those two voice their crude desires for her, she would have no trouble cracking them in the heads with lead rounds.
But long moments passed without the sounds of a scuffle. Nor did the Virts say anything to indicate they knew Vlerion was about. They’d moved too far away for Kaylina to make out their words, but she heard their voices and a few bumps and thumps. It sounded like they were unloading more cargo.
Was Vlerion hiding somewhere and hoping to hear more useful information? The torches were placed frequently enough in the grotto that there hadn’t been deep shadows between them. She didn’t remember seeing any other alcoves, but she hadn’t gotten a thorough look around the pool.
Kaylina crept to the tunnel and risked peeking out. The thumps and voices continued, coming from the direction of the dock. If the men were all there, they wouldn’t be able to see her leave and return to the castle. Which was what she ought to do, as Vlerion had originally suggested. Of course, his last order had been for her to stay in the alcove.
A distant scream chilled her blood.
A louder thump came from the dock, followed by curses.
“Was that Hazlin? Wrendon?” someone asked, his voice raised in alarm.
Kaylina had no trouble making out his words, but the response was muted.
“It was one of our men,” the first speaker said, a hint of panic in his tone. “The other boat had more cargo and was lagging behind.”
Maybe thatwas where Vlerion had gone. He’d recognized some of those names. He might have bypassed lesser men to go after one of the leaders.
Hoping her curiosity wouldn’t get her killed, Kaylina crept toward the grotto instead of away. Another distant scream sounded.
“That’s it.” Another thump accompanied the man’s words. “We’ve got to go check on them.”
“You feeling that brave?”
“They’re our allies. Besides, whatever’s after them will come for us next.”
Kaylina peered out of the tunnel toward the dock. A boat had indeed been rowed up to it, and more crates had joined the earlier stacks, though the two arguing men hadn’t finished unloading. With screams sounding in the distance, she couldn’t blame them.
“What do you mean whatever? It’s got to be the rangers.”
“Or one of those beasts.”
Kaylina fingered her sling. These were the men who’d been musing about her anatomy, Legdar and Zerek. While they were looking toward the river, she was tempted to crack them in the skulls. Too bad her rounds were great for taking down pheasants and quail but only tended to bruise men—and piss them off.
“There are no beasts in the catacombs. Unless you count those ugly statues.”
“It wasn’t a sword that tore Penner’s head off. Those were claws.”
“Just grab what you can carry. I have an idea.” Legdar picked up two kegs, tucking them under his arms, and turned toward Kaylina’s tunnel.
She pulled back, hoping she’d avoided being spotted, and jogged back to the alcove.
“Your idea involves running from our friends who need help?” Zerek asked.
“Gonna make a big distraction. If there are rangers down here, they’ll be compelled to leave our men alone and check on it.” Their voices followed Kaylina. They had to be heading for the hidden cubby where the other munitions had been stashed. Or would they go all the way to the castle?
In the alcove, she squeezed between the statue and the sarcophagus, hoping the deep shadows would hide her if the men looked in.
“What kind of distraction?” Zerek asked.
“We’ll blow some of the kegs and see if we can take down that castle.”
Kaylina stared in horror at the tunnel as the men walked past, lugging kegs of black powder. They couldn’t blow up the castle. Even if she hadn’t signed a lease and invested her dream in it, Frayvar was there, worrying because she’d been gone so long. She envisioned her brother being trapped in the kitchen or maybe the root cellar as an explosion boomed, making the ground shake and beams and rubble tumble down and kill him.
“Can you blow up a cursed castle?”
“We’ll find out. Either way, it ought to bring the rangers running.”
“What if the curse transfers to us?”
“Don’t be a milksop.”
The voices grew fainter as they walked farther up the tunnel.
Kaylina gripped her knees. What was she supposed to do? She couldn’t let them set off explosives under the castle. But the sling and knife were the only weapons she had. She was a mead maker, not a fighter, damn it.
Shaking her head, she gripped the sling. She would have to use what she had.
She slipped into the shadows of the tunnel, stepping as quietly as she could. Since the men were lugging kegs, she soon caught up with them.
Sling loaded, she drew it back and took aim.
The tunnel wasn’t wide enough for people to walk side by side, so they trod single file. Zerek, the man in back, was a larger target, so she waited until the head of Legdar was visible and fired at it first.
Before her round struck, she loaded a second. Legdar swore, dropped his kegs, and grabbed the back of his head.
“What are you doing?” Zerek demanded before thinking to look behind him.
He turned his head in time to take Kaylina’s round between the eyes.
The blow was enough to knock Zerek back. He stumbled over the kegs his comrade had dropped.
Kaylina wavered between firing again and running. The first man she’d struck snarled and drew a sword. That made up her mind.
She spun and sprinted away, knowing she was no match for a swordsman. But if they chased her, it meant they wouldn’t head toward the castle with those kegs. Frayvar would remain safe. She just had to make sure they didn’t catch her so she remained safe.
As they abandoned their cargo and pounded after her with legs longer and faster than hers, she realized that might not be possible.