Ranulf finished lacing up his boots and looked out the window of Beka’s cabin. The storm clouds were still building. It would be snowing soon. That wasn’t going to stop him, not now.
Beka got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around her naked body. “You can’t leave now,” she said. “The storm.”
“It’s the perfect time to leave,” he declared. “When the Devoted Guardians come, they won’t be able to track me.”
“You’ll die in the storm.”
“I’m willing to take that risk.”
They stared at each other for too long. He wanted to leave. He wanted to stay. He didn’t know what she wanted. He never knew what other people wanted. He wondered if that meant there was something wrong with him.
“Don’t you want to know about…Khari?”
“Kill her or don’t. I care not.”
“What about her child?”
He had been purposely avoiding that issue. “I suppose I should know…but I don’t want to know.”
“Do you want me to tell you?”
He sighed in frustration. “Yes.” He rubbed his forehead. A headache was coming on.
“She’s not carrying your child,” she lied to him.
Ranulf breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank the gods.”
“I think you should thank whatever man impregnated her before you had the chance.”
“I had plenty of chances, I suppose I’m just lucky.”
“Or unlucky.”
That made him laugh ruefully.
“Do you have any children?” Beka asked him.
Ranulf shook his head. “No. I mean, it’s possible, but…the whores of Telemere are notorious in using magic and herbs to never get pregnant.”
Neither of them were willing to voice concern about one of the women of Nonmondaine possibly carrying his child.
“Don’t leave,” she suddenly begged him. “Stay here in the village. Help protect us. We’ll help protect you.”
“Men don’t live in Nonmondaine,” he said. He knew the rules.
“No, but you can stay here until the spring, when it’s safe. Winter is truly upon us and the Devoted Guardians, if they do send another contingent to find Khari, won’t be able to reach us after this storm. We’ll be safe until then.”
Ranulf shook his head at her. “I never thought you were a sentimental woman.”
“I’m not,” she said proudly.
He stepped forward and kissed her, pressing his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. There was nothing more that he wanted other than to stay there forever.
He couldn’t.
“I’m leaving,” he said firmly.
“Don’t,” she said. She wasn’t begging. She had pride.
“You could come with me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t leave Nonmondaine.”
“Maybe someday I’ll return.”
“You won’t.”
“I didn’t promise, did I?”
They glared at each other for a minute. He could feel her anger and her lust.
He hoped she could feel his as well.
When he left, she locked the door behind him. It wasn’t snowing yet, but it would soon. He wanted to get as far as possible into the mountains before he needed to find shelter.
The journey to Thome’s rude grave took him less time than he anticipated. The rocks that formed the cairn were exactly as he remembered them. Some small amounts of snow and ice were trapped between the rocks, but it was otherwise exactly as he had last seen it.
He stood in front of the pile of rocks and wondered if the body of Thome Innocente of the Order of Devoted Guardians would ever be found. From his pack he took a small stone that he had been working with a knife over the past weeks. The time he had to work on a piece of art was small, but calling the rock a piece of art was insulting to artists. All he had managed to do was roughly scratch THOME on it. As a marker, it served, but only barely.
Carefully Ranulf placed the marker stone into the cairn where it could be seen by anyone who took a moment to investigate but was safe enough that it wouldn’t roll away.
“I’m sorry, my friend, this is no place to die. You were too young for this. You did not deserve this. I’m sorry I stole your name. I’m sorry I stole your armor. I hope I made good use of them in the village.”
He stared at the grave for longer than he wanted. A wry smile suddenly bloomed across his face. “Maybe someday a kid from Nonmondaine will come looking for their father, find this grave, and wonder what the hells happened. Gods forgive me, I wonder what the hells happened as well.”
After another minute of staring at the cairn, Ranulf nodded and cinched his pack tightly closed. Snowflakes were just starting to fall from the sky and the wind was picking up. With any luck he’d find a cave or a hunter’s shelter to survive the night. If he wasn’t lucky he would have to set up his survival tent. If he was extremely unlucky, he’d wind up dead.
They were all going to be dead someday.
As he rounded the bend where he had first encountered Thome weeks before, the scrying spell that Beka used to track him slowly faded away. Back in her cabin she knew she could use her abilities to increase the power on the spell, but that seemed unnecessary. She had put a traveler’s pebble in his boot. She wouldn’t lose track of him. She couldn’t. She would have to unite him with his children some day.
Beka rubbed her hand over her belly. It was too soon to tell, but she had a good feeling. The others were unknown as well. Hild. Amella. Sparrow. Every other woman he had fucked in the knight-witch’s magic influenced orgy. She had high hopes.
She hoped he would return before the Devoted Guardians came to slaughter them all.
END