Battles of Salt and Sighs by Val Saintcrowe

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

LARENT’S TENT WAScold, despite the clay stove that sat in the center, fire burning hot inside and smoke traveling up through a clay chimney that expelled it into the sky through a hole in the tent.

Perhaps it was the hole in the tent that let in too much cold. Perhaps it was the fact that the tent was too flimsy. He had draped furs over top of it, doubled the layers of canvas, and it was all to no real avail.

He looked at the table next to his fur-swathed bed where a dagger sat out. He’d been sharpening it. He looked at that so he didn’t have to look at Onivia.

Onivia’s nose was pink, and she was huddled near the stove, wrapped in furs herself. She wasn’t shivering, but she was quiet.

“Centurion?”

Larent’s attention snapped away from the table and the dagger to the direction of Maven, who was speaking to him. “Apologies,” he said. “What do you think? Will the men come with me?”

“Yes,” said Maven. “There is no love for Akiel amongst us half-bloods. But no one wants to set out in this snow.”

“Well, at least it’s stopped falling,” said Larent.

“The human legion is close,” said Maven.

“The Naxus-led legion?” said Larent.

Maven nodded. “Yes.”

“Sacred magics,” said Larent. “That’s the last thing we need. I’d like to be well clear before he attempts whatever he’d going to do to Akiel. Let Akiel fight Naxus on his own. See how he fares.” He snorted. “Except that’s not going to work if he’s too close. Where exactly was he spotted?”

“On the other side of the train tracks,” said Maven. “To the west.”

Larent rubbed at his chin. It was itching now that his beard was growing back in. “Let me think on it. Anything else to report?”

“No, centurion.”

“Dismissed, then. Thank you, Maven, I do appreciate it. I know that you aren’t pleased with me.” He offered him his hand.

Maven took it. “I find it difficult to hold a grudge against you, I’m sorry to admit.”

Larent gripped the other man’s hand, smiling at him. “Well, I’m sorry to use that to my advantage. It isn’t fair to you, and I acknowledge that.”

Maven sighed, disentangling himself.

He left the tent.

Larent rubbed his hands together in front of the stove. It was cold, but he must get used to it. Truthfully, it was still a shock to him, having grown up on the Eeslia. It never got so cold there.

“So, we’re leaving?” spoke up Onivia.

“You wanted to go to the capital, domina,” he said. “There we’ll find the Croith, and I’ll deliver you to your sister, and it will all go well for you.”

She nodded. “I do hope so.”

“I’m sorry we’ll be traveling in such cold conditions, of course,” he said.

“Can I ask you about something?” she said. “Something that Akiel said?”

“What?” His voice might have been harsher than it should have been at the mention of Akiel.

“About the Croith,” she said. “He only has one hand? Is that true?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it. He has an artificial hand now, but at first he just had the stump.”

“And his magic. He can kill men with touch.”

“Is there a reason you’re repeating things everyone knows about the Croith?”

“I didn’t know about his hand,” she muttered. “He’s an escaped slave, like you all are, isn’t he? Does he come from the Eeslia? Do you know what island? What villa?”

“Does this matter?”

She let out a bitter laugh. “I think I know why he was in my sister’s bed. I think I know who he is. And if that is the case, if she is with him…” She shook her head. “I don’t know if it even matters, then. She always liked him too much, far too much, not the way a dominissa should like a slave.”

“Oh, and what way is that?” His voice was dry.

She flinched. “I’m sorry. Of course you wouldn’t want me to say…”

He sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Deep down, of course, you’ll always think of yourself as better than me. I could fuck you a thousand times, and it wouldn’t change.”

She hunched her shoulders up, dipping down her face. She was afraid of him.

“Well, it’s far too cold for that, so don’t worry.” He hated this woman, but he hated it that she feared him even more. He had never wanted to be that man to some woman, and yet, here he was.

Maybe I’m my father’s son after all.

“They were caught doing magic together in the woods outside our villa,” she whispered. “Of course it’s him. Of course he would kill everyone to get to her. Of course he wanted her. Oh, I am blind.”

Larent pondered this new information, that the Croith had some deeper connection with the magical girl than anyone might have thought. He didn’t know what it meant, but he tucked it away for further use if he needed it.

“Let me go to Naxus,” she said suddenly.

He rounded on her. “What?”

“I spoke to you before of a legatus.”

“Him?” Larent felt his world shift a bit, and he didn’t like the way that it did. “What was he to you?”

“You know him.” She furrowed her brow.

“Answer me, domina.”

“We were engaged,” she said.

He laughed. It burst out of him, a deep, long harsh laugh, so forceful that he threw his had back and clutched his stomach.

“Not for long,” she said. “He may be angry me with me, truly, but… you said you would let me go, and you were only keeping me around because you wished Akiel to think that you were using me—”

“I seem to have accomplished that,” he muttered darkly.

“Yes,” she said, her voice bitter. “You’ve used me rather thoroughly, haven’t you?”

He found he couldn’t look at her.

“Anyway, you don’t need me anymore. I’ll be in your way, and if the Night King is Duranth and Duranth is in my sister’s bed, it will take more than my being near her to rescue her. So, let me go to Albus, and I’ll… I’ll make him take me to the capital and leave you be.”

“You’ll make him?”

“I think I could,” she said in a quiet voice.

“I don’t,” said Larent.

“Why not?”

“There’s a reason he’s coming through the snow, domina, and it’s not because of his fierce loyalty to the empire. He does hate the fae, but I’d wager he hates me the most. He’s never going to leave me be.”

“Who is he to you?”

Larent only shook his head. It seemed so complicated to explain. Perhaps it wasn’t. Maybe he could even sum it all up in one word, but that word… that word would never be used by either of them for the other.

She sighed. “You could let me try, couldn’t you? I could even tell him that you’d left, that you’d already gone to the capital.”

“Oh, you’d lie for me, domina?”

“Well, it serves both of our purposes.”

“It doesn’t serve my purpose to send Naxus Albus to the capital,” said Larent. “It doesn’t serve the fae’s purpose.”

“You’re frightened he might conquer your rebellion.” Her eyes flashed.

“Not frightened,” he snapped.

She cast her gaze downward. “Forgive me, that was quite foolish of me.”

“Antagonizing me is not the way to convince me.”

“Well, how should I convince you?” she said. “Perhaps we could bargain. What do you want of me that you haven’t already had? My arse?”

“Stop,” he said softly.

“Oh, too cold for that, as you said,” she said sharply. “I shouldn’t worry about your taking me against my will in the frigid conditions?”

It had not all been against her will.

Or had it?

He wasn’t so stupid as to think that what had happened in his bed the other morning was real, but it had felt… He hunched his shoulders. “You can’t convince me at all. You’re not going anywhere.”

“You don’t really own me, you know,” she breathed furiously.

“I know,” he said.

“So—”

“It’s also too cold to talk, domina,” he said and got up to go and sharpen his dagger again, pointedly ignoring her.

She said his name several times, but he didn’t respond, so she gave up, huddling closer to the stove.

Time passed.

And then there was the sound of someone outside his tent, and Larent heard Maven’s voice calling out for him.

Larent went for the flap of the tent and moved it aside.

“It’s Akiel,” said Maven. “He’s coming to speak to you.”

“Why?” said Larent.

“I couldn’t say, centurion, but I think the other officers are not pleased at the idea of meeting Naxus on the battlefield without your centuria. I think he may be coming to try to make peace with you.”

Larent chuckled. “Oh, of course the officers aren’t pleased. But Akiel would never back down.”

Maven didn’t answer.

“Thank you,” said Larent.

“Of course,” said Maven. “Should I stay, centurion? Do you think you’ll have need of someone to back you up?”

“You think he’s coming to fight me?”

“I…” Maven shook his head. “I have no idea, centurion.”

“No, I can handle Akiel,” said Larent in a low voice.

Maven left.

Onivia was on her feet behind him, in the tent, and he waited for her to call out to him. He knew she’d overheard. But she didn’t say anything, and he didn’t turn to look at her. He simply stood at the flaps of the tent, feeling the chill air from the outside come through the places where the flaps parted.

Akiel appeared, wading through the snow. It was drifted deeply here and there, and it was up past his waist, even though Akiel was tall.

Larent stepped out of the tent. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a proposition for you,” said Akiel.

“What is it?”

“Invite me into your tent.”

Larent hesitated. “Perhaps I should come inside the villa and we can discuss it there.”

“No, you don’t come back in until we come to an agreement.”

“But you do wish to come to an agreement?”

“I do,” said Akiel. “I was angry before, hasty, and I know that I do value your prowess on the battlefield. So, let’s talk.”

Larent let him in.

Onivia hovered near the stove, but behind it, putting it between herself and the two men.

Akiel looked her over with a leer. “Well, there she is.”

“What’s this proposition?”

“I just want her once,” said Akiel.

“What?” said Larent, wedging himself in front of Akiel, blocking the princep’s view of the girl. “We agreed it really isn’t about her.”

“But it’s best if it seems about her, best for both of us,” said Akiel. “And I do want her. So, you just let me fuck her once. You can be there. You can watch.”

“Oh, ancestors save us.” Larent ran a hand through his hair.

“It doesn’t even have to be her cunny.”

“No.” Larent snarled it.

Akiel rolled his eyes. “Her mouth, then. She just sucks me off, and you can even do her at the same time, both of us. We just share her, and then you come back, and all is forgiven, and we don’t speak of it anymore. I will swear off her afterwards.”

“I don’t see what the point of—”

“Because it means you admit that she’s a whore, and that she doesn’t matter,” said Akiel.

“She doesn’t matter.”

“That’s why you’re freezing your balls off out here.”

“No, it’s not about her ancestors-blessed cunt.” He advanced on Akiel, forcing the other man to step back. “Or her mouth. Or her arse. It’s about you.”

“So, then let me have her.” Akiel planted his feet on the ground, refusing to move.

“No,” said Larent.

“Listen, maybe I’ve overstepped.” Akiel shrugged. “Some of the officers enjoy themselves when they dine with me. But perhaps, for men like you, squeamish—”

“I’m not squeamish.”

“Whatever.” Akiel rolled his eyes again. “I can be sure to make it clear, it’s an optional activity, and that no one has to indulge. And as for you, you can keep this whore forever for all I care. You can fuck her sideways, marry her, get her with triplets. Or you can just go back to your celibate existence. I’ll shut my mouth about it, all right? I could not give one fuck about anything except your battle strategy, all right? That’s really all that matters.”

“If that was all that mattered, you wouldn’t be demanding this of me. She is mine, and I don’t want to watch you fuck her.”

“So, don’t watch.”

“I don’t want you to fuck her at all.”

“But you say she doesn’t matter.”

Larent threw up both of his hands and turned. He stalked to the other side of the tent, too angry to think.

“It’s all right that you’re soft on her, I suppose,” said Akiel in a wheedling voice. “I don’t hold it against you, not really. You have weak blood. You can’t help it.”

Larent let out a barking laugh.

“But they are the enemy, Larent. She is the enemy.”

“I know what she is.” He turned to look at Akiel.

“What if it’s someone else, then,” said Akiel. “Not me. You give her to someone else—”

“No other man in this entire cohort is forced to give up his girl for other men’s use.”

“Yes, but you…. You prattled on about being better than them and not stooping to their level about how we must be good to their women and children, to prove we weren’t animals, and everyone heard.”

Larent’s shoulders slumped.

“You called the fae animals.”

“I didn’t,” he said. “That’s not exactly what I—”

“Most men have needs, Larent,” said Akiel. “We’re asking them to die for this cause, and they have been held captive on villae their entire lives—”

“We’ve all been held captive—”

“This is their only taste of freedom, and you want them to deny themselves use of human cunny because you think it’s some moral line in the sand?” Akiel spread his hands. “You are living in a dream world. Anyway, you seem to have thoroughly debauched this one.”

Larent knew he was right. He wasn’t any better than the others, and he had betrayed all his ideals. He scratched the back of his head. “Maven. I’ll give her to Maven.”

“Maven likes men. No, I pick who we give her to.”

“I’m never going to agree to—” But he never finished the sentence, because Onivia streaked across the tent and leaped onto Akiel’s back.

She wrapped her arm around Akiel’s neck, tightening it, just the way he’d taught her.

Larent was too stunned to react to this. He simply gaped at them.

Akiel reached up and tried to dislodge her, but she’d done a very good job and she had a nice, tight grip on him. He was already fading.

Akiel stumbled.

She held on tight, gritting her teeth in concentration, her face ferocious. Ancestors save him, she was sort of beautiful like that.

Akiel fell onto his knees.

She went with him.

Akiel struggled, but his struggles were less, were muted. He pawed ineffectively at her hands, his eyes wide.

Still Onivia held on.

Larent took a lurching step forward. “Domina.”

Akiel went limp against her.

She didn’t let go.

“Domina.” His voice was stronger. He came closer. “What do you think to accomplish?”

Her voice was strained with the effort of continuing to put pressure on him. “You were wavering. You were going to give me to him, or to someone else, and I won’t be traded about like… like…”

“Like a slave?” He pulled her off Akiel, and it didn’t take much effort. Not because she wasn’t holding as tight as she could. Just because he was stronger than her.

She let out a cry of strangled rage, slamming her fists into his chest.

“I wasn’t going to give you to him or anyone.”

“You said Maven.”

“Because I knew he wouldn’t—”

“Fuck you.” She backed away and looked about.

Akiel was reviving. He coughed.

She dove across the tent and snatched up Larent’s dagger.

“Domina!” he cried out.

She hurled herself at Akiel, slashing with the dagger.

A line of red opened up under Akiel’s chin. He gagged on his blood, hands flailing out, trying to grasp at anything, and then he went still and fell back to the floor of the tent. He lay there, bleeding out onto the carpets that were spread over the ground.

“Fuck,” said Larent.

She turned the dagger on him. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to Albus. You can say whatever you like. Say I did it while you were both sleeping after you’d shared me as he suggested.”

“Oh,” he said. “I see. So, why didn’t you slit my throat?”

“I don’t know. I would if I could. I suppose you woke up and stopped me.”

“And then you still got away from me? No, I’ll tell them you’re dead. You killed Akiel, but not before he managed to stab you, and you bled out.”

“Fine,” she said. “But I can go?”

He drew in a breath, looking down at Akiel and then up at her, at her nose reddened in the cold. Sacred magics. He nodded. “Yes, you can go.”

She gave him a fierce, triumphant smile.

He passed a hand over his face. “Otherwise I must take the blame for this, and I… I can’t have killed him, not another fae, not for a human woman.”

She pointed the bloody dagger at him. “Then it is a bargain.”

He eyed her, hesitating. She was so eager to leave him. Of course she was. Why would he think anything else? “I’ll carry your body out myself, wrapped up, blankets over your head.”

“No,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “But I must see to Akiel first, and you will stay in here, quiet, and wait.”

“No.”

“I’ll deliver you to Naxus’s doorstep, domina. You don’t even know where his camp is. You can’t get through the snow on your own.”

She drew back. “Oh, careful, centurion, one might think you were concerned about my safety.”

“Of course I am,” he whispered.

Her face twisted. “Don’t.”

“Domina—”

“Don’t.” She pointed the dagger at him, and her lower lip trembled. “You said it before. None of that was real.”

He hung his head.

She drew in a noisy breath.

“Fine, then,” he said, his voice harsh. “Then I’ll take you to him, because I want you to tell him that it was me who took your virtue. I’d like to imagine his face when he hears that.”

She recoiled.

He let out an ugly laugh. “Wait here, domina. I need to see to the body.”