Magic of Talisman and Blood (Curse of the Ctyri Book 2) Read online

  “Sir Evzan?” someone yelled.

  “Sir Evzan!” another man joined the first.

  “Evzan!” a man bellowed. “I know you didn’t drown. You better not have drowned, or I’ll bloody kill you again!”

  Evzan pulled back and then leaned forward to place a soft kiss on her lips. He studied her, his eyes filled with a tenderness she’d never seen before. Or perhaps, she’d never recognized.

  “Evzan!”

  The voice was closer, and a moment later, Adaline heard the men on the shore. The moon bathed the night in silvery light, and she wanted to stay in the river and kiss Evzan until the sun made them stop, but the moon’s light was now bright enough to make the shadows distinguishable. Which meant it was only a matter of time before they were found. Then Adaline saw what had stopped their watery journey. Behind Evzan was a large boulder, and Evzan’s back was to it. She ran her hand over his shoulders and whispered, “Are you hurt?”

  The smile he gave her made her toes curl.

  “Not at all,” he replied. “But we’d better hurry before they find us.”

  Adaline snickered with the thought. As soon as Evzan shifted them and pulled away from her, her legs gave out.

  “Whoa,” Evzan said, catching her before she dunked beneath the surface. “Did I make your knees weak?”

  Adaline rolled her eyes. “Yes, but only because you fell on me. To be fair, it’d probably feel about like that boulder dropping on you.”

  Evzan wrapped his arm around her waist and scooped her up. “I’m so sorry. Although, I think you clipping my chin might’ve been the reason I fell.”

  “Only because you hit me in the face,” she grumbled, not the least bit sorry any of it had happened. She rested her head against his chest, relishing the feel of him and lulled by his heartbeat.

  He pressed his lips to her temple. “Next time, let’s skip the almost drowning part.” He straightened and bellowed, “Ho, there. I’m here.”

  Evzan glanced down at Adaline, and this time his eyes widened.

  “What?” she asked.

  Shaking his head, he said quietly, “You’ll need to go most of the way up river by yourself. No one who sees you right now will be fooled.” His gaze heated. “And it would be unwise to expose you if we don’t have to.”

  “Does this mean you’ll agree to stay?” she asked. “I just need three days, maybe four.”

  Evzan’s shoulders dropped, and he inclined his head. “Of course, Your Highness.”

  Walking away from the men on shore, he took her upstream and then set her down near the riverbank. Pointing upriver, he said, “Don’t get out if any men are there. Collect our clothes. If you can rinse them off, great, if not, just haul them back up the embankment. I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”

  Adaline felt wrung out like a rag, but this time, her legs held her. With a smile, she whispered, “I’ll see you then.”

  He brushed his lips to hers and then strode back out into the water and let the current carry him away.

  By the time Adaline awoke at daybreak, Evzan had slipped away. He’d packed all of his things and most of hers, leaving their packs just inside the tent where she slept. She’d meant to wake up with him, but the events of the night before left Adaline exhausted.

  She dressed and plaited her hair, finding another strap of leather in Evzan’s pack to tie back her braid. She was still struggling to pull the stakes out of the ground when Evzan returned.

  He said nothing to her as he circled the tent and pulled the thick metal pieces from the packed earth. Summer was just beginning to wane, and the dusty earth needed a drink at least as bad as she did.

  The tent collapsed, and the two of them worked next to each other in silence. Adaline wasn’t sure what was bothering Evzan, but the furrow in his brow was a strong indicator there was something.

  “I apologize, sir, for not having the tent broken down before you returned.” She could think of nothing else to break the silence, especially not with the surrounding men, and she wasn’t willing to take chances. Not without Evzan’s lead. “I hope all went well with the generals?”

  Evzan’s only response was a curt nod, a gesture that felt more like a blow than acknowledgment.

  Adaline reminded herself that they were in the middle of an audience, and she had a role to play. Kicking the ground, she grumbled to herself about moody knights as she helped put away the rest of their stuff.

  They went to saddle the horses together, Evzan again silent as they crossed to the animal pens.

  “d’Line, I must’ve dropped my sheath . . . for my dagger,” Evzan said suddenly. “Run back and see if it’s at our site.”

  Adaline started and then stared at him. Has he lost his mind? Evzan was wearing his daggers, both of them, in their sheaths on his thighs. She raised her hand to point that out to him, but his intensity made her words stick, despite the fact that her hand was raised.

  “Now,” he growled.

  She bobbed a quick curtsey and cringed.

  “Don’t mock me,” he snapped, his eyes flashing.

  Butterflies took flight in her stomach, and Adaline wasn’t so certain he was play acting anymore. “Right, sir.”

  She pivoted and froze when she saw Vodnik glaring at her. Her skin crawled, and she swallowed back her fear. Evzan wouldn’t let any harm come to her. She took three steps toward camp, and he called her back.

  “d’Line! Get back here. Never mind the sheath. I have it.”

  When Adaline faced her guard, he raised his eyebrows as if to ask if she’d seen him.

  Adaline responded. “Yes, sir. I see.”

  After they’d saddled their horses and were on the road, Evzan finally broke his silence. With the cacophony of the camp surrounding them, he said, “He’s been following us all morning, but his eyes are on you. You need to be careful. Don’t let him catch you alone, or he’ll fight you again. And next time, it won’t be fair.”

  “Is that why you’re grumpy?” she asked. “Because you’re worried about him attacking me?” After fighting Vodnik yesterday, Adaline wasn’t concerned. “I can handle him. He’s slow, Evzan. Really slow.”

  Evzan grimaced. “He might be slow, squire, but he has a reputation for fighting dirty. Remember his page? The boy died last night. The Celestial Sisters said that his injuries were beyond their skills to heal. I don’t want you wandering around camp without me.”

  Adaline grimaced, and she chose her words carefully. “I hear you, sir.”

  They arrived just outside a large fiefdom at sundown. The lord of the township had built substantial walls of protection, and the gates were closed as if the city had been expecting an attack.

  “It’ll become more difficult the further into Beloch we go. Word travels quickly, especially bad news, and those lords who care for their people will do their best to defend.” Evzan looked at Adaline pointedly and added, “Every man will defend that which he loves most. Even when it is hopeless.”

  Adaline felt like there was a message in there for her, but why was it mixed with such sorrow? “What do you mean—”

  He held up his hand. “We’re coming to destroy what they’ve built. Are you sure you want to witness that? We could still return to Burdad.”

  Adaline shook her head. She’d sent her men here; witnessing was the least she could do. “I need to be here. I can’t even tell you why, I just know”—she brought her fist to the base of her chest—“here that I need to stay.”

  Evzan’s dark gaze settled on her, his features painted in a mixture of sorrow and pain. “I don’t know what romantic notions you have of war, d’Line, but you’ll see the truth of it within the next few days.”

  11

  Cervene’s army set up camp just outside the gates of the township Orikrod, laying siege.

  “They’ll send out spies to assess the defenses of the community tonight and early in the morning,” Evzan told Princess Adaline. “Tomorrow we’ll spend the day gathering supplies.”


  Her thoughts spun, excitement and fear mingling in a restless dance, and Adaline tossed and turned most of the night. By the time she awoke the next morning, most of the soldiers had already left camp.

  “Did I miss it?” she asked when Evzan returned with a cupful of grain. She frowned at the meager ration, wondering how they would make it to Rizy if they couldn’t gather enough supplies.

  Evzan grumbled under his breath, rummaged through his bag, and pulled out a pot. He dumped in the groats, a double measure of water, and then set it over the fire. Still not looking at Adaline, he grabbed a piece of someone’s armor and covered their meal.

  “Does that mean that Sir Tredak is back?” she asked and then tried not to smile at her own humor.

  “He’s not. Now get dressed,” he said without meeting her gaze. “I have a small contingent of men I need to lead today, and you’ll have to help. Wear your leathers.”

  She stopped halfway back to the tent as fear ran down her spine. “Do you think we’ll be attacked?”

  “We’re at war. There’s always a possibility.”

  The group of twenty soldiers that Evzan led went through the homesteads after the initial sweep. The homes were ransacked, dishes smashed on the floor, artwork destroyed, and clothing strewn about. Adaline and the other soldiers went through iceboxes, larders, and cabinets, pulling stores of grains, legumes, and root vegetables from cellars.

  Many of the men picked up trinkets, jewelry, and bolts of fabric.

  Mid-morning, the clash of metal rang nearby, and Evzan directed his soldiers to other farmsteads.

  As the day wore on, Adaline watched with growing dismay as her men knocked down crudely constructed homes or bashed in walls of others. Her chest tightened when one of the soldiers picked up a burlap doll and, while laughing, ripped its head from its body. The men around him chuckled, and he dropped it into the dirt and ground the toy underfoot. She glanced at Evzan who shook his head with a tight look of warning.

  She tried to ignore the crass comments, but over the course of the day, her heart grew heavy in her chest. For two days, Adaline had been craving something, anything, fresh and sweet, but when Evzan gave her a bowl of cherries, the sweet fruit tasted of dust and sorrow.

  At the end of the day when they were back at their tent, Adaline whispered, “Is it always like that?”

  Evzan shook his head. “No. I tried to keep you from the worst of it. And the generals have a fairly tight leash on the men, so rape and murder is minimal.”

  Adaline’s heart froze. The idea that her men, her army, would do the very thing that had caused the war made her incensed. “I’ll not allow it. Evzan—”

  “What did you think would happen, Adaline?” he snapped under his breath. He dropped a bag of wheat and faced her, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve sent your men in to destroy Beloch, and that’s what they’re doing.”

  “But they’re burning people’s homes and taking everything. Even when we don’t need it. There’s no way we’ll use all that food before it goes bad, will we?”

  He shrugged and went back to hauling food to their tent. “We might. We have a very large army, and this is their only support.”

  Adaline scampered after him, hefting a bag of carrots from the back of Thunder. “But—”

  “Not now,” he growled, his expression darkening and his gaze flicking over her shoulder.

  Adaline glanced behind her and saw a man dart between two tents. She only glimpsed his attire, but she recognized his heavy movements. Vodnik was still watching her. “How long has he been watching?”

  Evzan leveled her with his gaze. “All day.”

  After the sun dipped below the horizon, Evzan ushered her to the tent. “I want you to stay in there tonight.”

  Adaline ached with exhaustion, both in body and spirit, and nodded. If staying in the tent meant she could sleep, she was more than happy to comply. “Of course.”

  Adaline took off her boots and collapsed onto her bedroll. She peeled off her breeches and yanked off her sweaty tunic. With a sigh of guilty pleasure, Adaline slipped a light chemise on, her one steal of the day. The pale-pink gown was thin and worn and much shorter than what she wore in Burdad, hitting only mid-thigh. But with the sweltering heat, the draped garment was a dream.

  Evzan opened the flap, and she froze.

  He’d always made a point to not come into the tent if she was in there. He’d slept outside, stating he preferred to be outdoors rather than inside of the stuffy canvas. So then what was he doing in here?

  His gaze dropped to her exposed legs, and he swallowed. He closed his eyes and said, “No matter what you hear tonight, don’t come out of the tent.”

  She got to her feet and smoothed the chemise down, but it still hung above her knees. Glancing behind him, she tried to peer through the gap in the canvas. “Why not?”

  He sucked in a ragged breath. His gaze met hers and heated. “Where did you get that?” he asked in a strangled voice. “You can’t—”

  “I just wanted to wear something . . .” not so hot. She inhaled, suddenly filled with a desire to touch him, to brush her fingers over his skin.

  Evzan crossed the tent. He pulled the leather strap from her braid, his fingers trailing down her back, the thin material doing little to block the heat from his touch.

  Adaline closed her eyes, and the rest of the world fell away. He ran his fingers through her golden tresses and then rubbed the knots in her shoulders and neck. She melted, leaning into him for support as her hands slid up his chest to grip his shoulders. As if he were a magnet, she inched closer until their bodies were flush.

  “Adaline,” he groaned, pulling her closer as he continued to knead her back. The pressure of the massage brought her closer, and he pressed his lips to her neck.

  Fire burned where he touched, leaving a trail of desire, and she tilted her head to give him better access. The flame burned across her skin and sparked an inferno low in her belly.

  He shuddered and pulled back, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “We shouldn’t.”

  She looked up at him through her lashes and breathed, “Why not?”

  He swallowed hard. “It isn’t right.”

  His words were like ice skittering down her spine. She stiffened and stepped away. “What do you mean?”

  He dropped his arms to his sides, and when he met her gaze, his face was filled with sorrow. “I am your guard, Highness, and my first duty is to keep you safe. You are the future of Cervene, and I will do everything in my power to ensure both you and Cervene achieve the greatness you deserve.”

  His words should have filled her with joy or peace or something else besides the deep ache in her chest where her heart had once been. Why did his words sound like rejection?

  Because they were . . .

  He dropped his chin to his chest and continued, “Even if it means denying me, and you, what we want right now. You . . . imagine yourself smitten with me, but this feeling of attraction . . . is borne of desperation, fear, and relief. It was my fault you almost drown yesterday, which should earn me your censure, not your gratitude, and most certainly not your . . . affection.”

  What was he saying? He thought her feelings were just the effect of him saving her life last night? Adaline shook her head, refusing to accept his words as truth.

  “And even if you believed yourself in love, you are the heir of Cervene. Your hand is not yours to give.”

  Her head stopped shaking, and the weight of this truth settled heavy on her shoulders.

  Evzan stepped back again, toward the flap of the tent, and said, “I’m sorry I gave in to my emotions.” He swallowed, and while his chin lifted, he did not meet her gaze. “I will not be so weak in the future, and I beg your pardon.”

  Hot tears burned her eyes, and she closed them so he wouldn’t see. “I understand.”

  As much as she didn’t want to, she did understand. And while she wanted to argue against Evzan’s reasons, h
e was correct. She wouldn’t be allowed to marry her guard, even if he was a knight.

  “Tonight . . . there will be much wantonness outside. The men can sense our victory in this dukedom, and they will give in to their baser desires. I would not have you exposed. Stay in the tent, and I can keep you safe.” He clenched his jaw and added, “Please.”

  She saw him through her watery gaze but turned her back to him when the first tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. She barely registered his words of caution or the rationale behind them. She needed him gone. Her heart was fissuring and cracking, and there was no way she could stop it from breaking. She needed Evzan to leave so she could pull herself together. She choked on the single word, hoping it would be enough. “Yes.”

  She heard the flap open and felt Evzan disappear. For being as big as he was, he made no sound when he moved. Adaline sucked in a breath and dropped to her bedroll. The first tears stung and burned, and she hiccupped and coughed on the emotions raging through her. Her grief over Evzan only scratched the surface of her pain, but as the tears fell, the dam broke. Holding the thick fabric to her face, she muffled the sounds of her crying as best she could. She mourned for her mother, her father, and her sister, Mari, and then Adaline wept for herself. Finally, she cried for her people.

  Eventually her tears stopped, and when she peeked outside her tent, Evzan was gone, and Tredak sat in his place. She returned to her bed and eventually floated in and out of consciousness as the sun set. Outside, she could hear the noise of celebration, the men in camp cheering and jeering. The sounds of revelry teased her, and for a brief moment, Adaline wished she could join in the drunken madness and forget her pain.

  Eventually, she slept. Tossing and turning, the screams of her sister tortured Adaline’s rest. She could feel Mari’s panic as hands pawed at her, and Adaline awoke with a start as a hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her cry.

  “Shh,” Evzan whispered, his warm breath caressing her neck. His breath smelled of sweet ale, but his eyes were clear and focused. “It’s just me. You’re safe.”