Wolf pack, p.16
Wolf Pack, page 16
They sat for a moment in silence. Uriah’s brow pinched as he watched her.
“You really love her?”
He nodded. “With my whole soul. In Elysium, it’s tradition to officially commit yourself to the one you love in a marriage and promise to be with and love only that one person for the rest of your life.”
Her shoulders tensed against his condescending tone, even if she was ignorant of civilized ways. And besides, lots of Dracos—well, some—paired off for life. She thought of Ferth.
Her brother’s grin lit the room. “Imanna and I made our promises to each other. I am hers now. And I will follow her anywhere.”
Suza was stunned silent. He did what?
“Did you think otherwise?”
She hadn’t thought at all. She didn’t know her brother. Hadn’t for over a decade. Self-pity welled at the constricting feeling of loneliness. “Congratulations?” What was she supposed to say? She wished it didn’t feel like she were losing her brother before fully getting him back.
Happiness painted his face in handsome strokes. “I know I have only known her,” he laughed, “a very short time.”
She raised her brow. “Very short indeed.”
“It doesn’t matter. I love her like Poe.”
“Then I am happy for you. And I must admit, I think she might even be worthy of you.”
A trickle of Uriah’s joy wormed through to Suza. She stepped forward and embraced his broad shoulders. “I will do what I can to protect her secret and her life. I want nothing more than for you to have a good life together after this.”
He didn’t answer, his gaze heavy.
“And I know it’s my turn to make it right and apologize.”
He kissed her brow.
Twenty-eight - Mitera
FERTH
“Up.” Darius unfolded from his seat on the grass and stretched his lean legs. “I want to be in my own bed tonight.”
“But not alone in your bed,” one of the soldiers said with a guffaw.
“As you shall certainly be,” Darius responded without a moment’s hesitation.
Good-natured chuckles filtered through the small group. With each southern mile, the tension had decreased.
Ferth shook cornmeal crumbs and bits of earth off his pants as he stood. After six days of riding, his thighs no longer chafed, and his back no longer sparked, but after endless hours on horseback, a deep fatigue had wedged its way into his body. Thoughts of his mother lightened his feet as he stepped over to his horse. He was finally going to put a face to his dreams.
“You’re first,” Ferth said to Lyko.
“There must be a better way.” Lyko stayed hidden in the bushes with Rom.
“You had days to think of one.”
“We will sneak into the city after dark.”
“No.”
Lyko growled, and the soldiers with Ferth jerked in surprise. Hands flew to sword handles.
“Out. Now. Both of you.” Ferth’s tone had turned hard.
Two sets of golden eyes glared at Ferth as Rom and Lyko sulked out of the bushes. With stilted steps, one of the soldiers led her horse over to Ferth.
He sent her a reassuring smile, but her eyes remained fearful. “Once you mount, I’ll help Lyko up.”
“Yes, sir.”
He held out a hand to help, but she ignored it, leaping into her saddle with ease.
“I’d rather ride with you,” Lyko said as a last effort.
“Then you shouldn’t have eaten that badger.”
No one was happy about the arrangement. The two women soldiers had traded with the males for the largest mounts so the horses could more easily carry the weight of wolf and woman. Ferth had suggested it before realizing how attached the humans were to their particular horses. He eyed the large animal he’d sat on for over a week. He didn’t feel any connection with the creature.
With the woman mounted, he checked the security of the saddle basket.
“I’ll help you up,” Ferth said.
Tail between his legs, Lyko allowed Ferth to spot his awkward climb into the low cradle. The horse grunted and shifted with the increase in burden. Ferth guessed the wolf weighed more than the woman.
“My legs hurt, and I feel like I’m going to fall out,” Lyko said.
“Welcome to the last week of my life.”
Lyko laughed, and it came out as a howl. The woman nearly toppled out of her saddle as she and the horse both bucked.
“Whoa.” She patted the horse’s neck with a nervous hand. When the beast settled, she speared Ferth with angry eyes.
“Sorry about that.” He draped a blanket over Lyko. The hidden wolf looked like a lumpy saddlebag. “Take a nap, Lyko,” he said aloud.
“Take a hike.”
He chuckled as he rounded on Rom.
The gray wolf refrained from scaring his hosts with menacing noises, but since there was only one saddle cradle and Lyko was heavier, Rom had to lie across the second horse’s shoulders.
The woman’s hands shook as she helped Ferth fit straps over Rom’s torso. The wolf couldn’t help turning a toothy grin and bright golden eyes on the woman as he settled against her warm thighs. She swallowed, her fingers trembling.
“Don’t worry.” Ferth handed the woman her reins and tucked a blanket around Rom. “He’s like a big puppy.”
Darius chuckled.
“And the Draco Sang are snuggly bunnies,” Rom said.
With one hand on the saddle, Darius threw his leg over his horse, mounting with enviable grace.
Ferth stepped up to his horse. Okay, beastie. We’re going to get it this time. He imitated the raja, gripping the saddle and throwing his weight up and over. The horse whinnied as Ferth’s considerable bulk landed on its back with a thud.
“I did it.”
“If you mean you nearly broke the horse,” Darius said, “then yes.” But the royal’s thin lip curved up before he pulled his cowl over his head, hiding his features. Darius gestured forward, leading the soldiers back to the road. Ferth’s horse dutifully followed before he had a chance to turn the reins. Useless, he let the leather straps rest across his thigh.
With each mile, traffic thickened. They shared the wide road with merchants, farmers, and peddlers. Posters and placards along the road advertising a need for soldiers increased. To Ferth’s satisfaction, many young men and women appeared to be accepting the summons, traveling in groups to rendezvous points. When people saw Ferth and the other soldiers’ uniforms, many respectfully saluted, but with Darius cloaked, they drew no other interest.
Ferth soaked up the new vistas with interest. Temperate compared to Skotar, the climate and weather allowed for sprawling estates and outdoor markets. Homes and small farms appeared alongside the road. Mitera, the glistening black dot on the horizon, grew larger.
“Hello, soldiers,” a child yelled out. “You’re going the wrong way!” He ran alongside their horses, two dogs chasing his heels.
“Got to get more weapons,” one of the soldiers in Ferth’s group replied with an easy smile.
“They won’t let me join the army,” the boy said. “Say I’m too young. Say I don’t know how to kill a beast. But I do. I’ve killed plenty of beasts. Just ask my mamma. How else would she get all that meat for her stew?”
“Sounds like you’re needed more here. We don’t want your mamma to go hungry.”
“Have you ever seen a real Draco Sang?”
Ferth bit his tongue.
“I have.” The soldier lost some of his frivolity.
“Did you kill one?”
Ferth had ended many more than that.
More children had joined the boy as they raced along the side of the trotting horses. The soldier shifted uncomfortably in his saddle.
One of the girls who now paralleled their group saved the soldier from having to reply. “My brother joined the army. He’s going to kill them. He’s going to keep them from eating me.”
Ferth’s hand clenched on the reins. Dracos didn’t eat children. At least, most wouldn’t.
“Don’t you worry. They’ll be no match for your brother,” the soldier said.
She beamed.
The soldier spurred his mount faster, and the gaggle of children fell back. The black dot grew into a ribbon of rock. The walls of the city rose. Turrets and roofs appeared over the top.
“The castle.” Darius indicated the green towers jetting over the eastern side of the city.
Mitera. Ferth’s head spun. He’d never expected to be entering the city as anything other than an enemy invader, certainly not as one of the raja’s guards. And yet, he knew he would fight harder for this raja than he would have for his own father. He had no father.
Ferth gaped at the sprawl of humanity outside the gates. What was the point of the wall?
The Vasil River flowed along the left side of the road and split near the black wall. Massive twin bridges spanned the river on either side. Ferth’s group joined the unregulated flow of traffic over the bridge. A gaping hole in the wall allowed entry into the inner city. An ornamental gate, secured permanently open, welcomed them into the heart of Elysium.
They weaved through the crowded streets. Roasted meat, baking bread, and steaming spices hit Ferth like a tidal wave as they passed shops preparing for the evening meal. Vendors displayed mounds of jewelry, fruit, and pottery. Glass gleamed in nearly every window. The women wore silk and velvet and their hair up in intricate patterns out walking in the streets. The men dressed for beauty, not battle. As they circled closer to the looming green castle, the opulence and luxury increased. No wonder Skotar had salivated over this lush city for centuries.
Ferth couldn’t help salivating now, but it was more from the tempting smell of a hot meal than the desire to dominate everything he saw. He found his eyes darting from face to face, as if his mother or grandfather would appear at any moment, as if his heart would know them instantly.
Darius stopped at a crossroads and motioned his traveling companions close. “Ferth and I will go directly to report at the castle. Pinton, lead on to Azure. Before you reach the stables, drop the wolves off in the gardens. Ferth, can we trust them to stay put and hidden in your absence?”
“Yes, sir,” Ferth said after acquiescence from the two sullen animals.
“I’ll come get you the moment I return,” he promised Rom and Lyko.
Ferth considered disobeying the raja’s order and instead going with his wolves and search Darius’s estate, this entire city, for his mother, but he squashed the thought away.
The six soldiers split off down the road to the south. The women carting Rom and Lyko turned pleading eyes on Ferth, as if he had abandoned them to a mysterious doom. They should consider themselves honored he let them near his wolves at all.
Ferth followed Darius east. Instead of going through the front gate of the castle—that entrance at least had guards—he led Ferth around the castle wall to a southern door, barely distinguishable. He dismounted and pulled a key out from one of the green stones and unlocked the gate.
Ferth dropped off the side of his horse and followed Darius into the heart of Elysium. They entered at the stables, although the smell of animal and manure was shockingly faint.
“Raja.” A young man bowed at the waist. “Please leave your horses with me. They will be attended to with care.”
“Thank you.” Darius handed over the reins.
Ferth gladly did as well. If he saw the horse again, it would be too soon. Draco Sang traveled on the strength of their own legs. You’re human now. As if the more he told himself that, the more he’d believe it.
Darius strode through the raked dirt path. A manicured garden rolled out on the right and the castle towered up ahead. The sunset painted the glistening green stones in gold. Ferth’s breath caught at the splendor of the mighty fortress.
The guard at the door saluted. “Welcome, raja.” She held open the wooden door.
Ferth stepped into a small entry behind Darius. Cream tiles covered the floors and ceiling.
“You there,” Darius called.
The maid nearly dropped her basket in surprise, but she quickly caught herself and curtseyed.
“Send Cora to Raja Darius’s chambers immediately.”
She nodded and ran.
After a short walk through the southern wing, Darius pulled out a key and unlocked a door. The suite was nicer than anything Ferth had ever seen, intricate furniture, heavy curtains. The bed called to him. Darius quickly opened closets and checked behind curtains.
“Expecting someone?”
“Always. Last time I was here, the king took an arrow through the throat.”
By Thirro. “Yes, of course.” Ferth stood awkwardly near a desk, wondering whether he should help rummage through the man’s things.
A round-faced woman appeared carrying a tray with delicious-smelling steam wafting off. “Welcome home, raja.” Ferth guessed she was about Darius’s age; maybe a little older if time had been kind.
Darius smiled, and the short woman stood a little straighter. For a maid, her dress was of surprising quality. “Hello, Cora. I’m glad to see you are well. You’ve anticipated me, one of your many talents.”
The woman beamed, her cheeks like ripe apples. “Shall I draw your bath, raja?”
“Cora, this is Ferth.”
Only then did the woman seem to realize that Darius was not alone. She curtseyed politely.
“Ferth will bathe first. Set out a suit of mine for him to wear.”
“Yes, raja.” Cora set the platter on Darius’s desk.
He turned his attention to a stack of parchments and waved a hand at the food. “Help yourself,” he said to Ferth, not looking up. When Darius grabbed a handful of olives and started popping them in his mouth as he read, Ferth followed suit.
The sound of rushing water drew Ferth through the doorway into a room covered in glass and shining tiles. Cora bent over a massive copper tub, but what stopped Ferth in shock was the spigot of steaming water pouring into the basin.
“How do you do that?”
“First time seeing piped water, huh? Most of the city has it.”
“And it’s hot!”
She ignored his exclaims as she dropped flower petals and powder into the water.
Ferth removed his boots and set his weapons on the pile. He had his shirt off and his pants halfway down his thighs by the time she looked back at him.
“My lord!” Her face turned crimson. “Wait just a moment.” She twisted the spigot closed with a jerk.
“What’s the matter?” Ferth’s question died on his lips as she darted from the room, face turned away.
Humans were the strangest creatures. He stopped worrying about the skittish slave—no, maid—the moment his skin touched the hot, fragrant water.
He rubbed his limbs with a soapy sponge. How was he going to wash his own back? For a fickle heartbeat he missed having a slave. He thought of Suza, remembering how good she was at scrubbing the grime out of his fur. He’d forced her to be good at it. Shame replaced his greed. He ached for her. And not because he couldn’t reach his back. Reluctantly leaving the warmth, he dried off with a fluffy towel and then stood in the middle of the gleaming room, naked and confused.
“Excuse me,” he called, feeling stupid, but not wanting to offend the sensitive woman by walking out. “What should I wear?”
“My lord, your clothes are laid out in the room to your right,” Cora called, her voice too high.
“I’m not a lord,” he yelled before turning into a plush closet that had a luxurious suit laid out on a bench. The silky undertunic kissed his warm skin. He and Darius stood head-to-head, but Ferth’s shoulders and thighs were inches wider. He made a mental note not to make any hasty movements. He tied his sword to his waist and stuck his daggers into his boots and rejoined Darius.
“Maybe Abner will name you a raja when he sees how well you wear my suit,” Darius said.
“Thank you for loaning it to me.” He barely breathed for fear of popping a button.
“Eat.” Darius disappeared into the bathing room.
Cora returned and pointedly ignored Ferth.
“Excuse me,” he said. “My lady.”
“I’m not a lady.” Her pink face remained turned away.
He sighed. “Do you have a brush?”
She allowed a quick glance at his wild mane. Wet hair hung down past his shoulders.
“Oh, skies.” She threw her hands up and disappeared out the door.
He groaned. What had he done wrong now? He sat down to eat.
A moment later, Cora returned. She held up a brush and bottle of oil.
What would it take for him to convince her to please do this one thing for him?
“I’m good with hair.”
Relief flushed through him. “I’m not.”
She smiled, her face relaxing. She stood behind Ferth as he ate flatbreads, pickled vegetables, and sliced fruit. Her hands worked through a week’s worth of knots.
Darius emerged, tall and regal, his short hair neatly combed. He wore a navy-blue suit with silver embroidery. Cora dropped Ferth’s hair for a moment as she drank up the raja. Reining her focus back on her work, she hastily tied his wavy hair at the base of his neck with a ribbon. Clean and fed, he eyed the fluffy bed longingly before he stood and followed Darius out. The raja strode through the maze of cream hallways with confidence and poise. Ferth matched his long pace.
They ascended three flights of stairs. The few sentries they passed saluted as they recognized the raja. Music and voices echoed off the walls. The scent of feasting grew stronger. Darius turned a corner and a vast room opened up. Pink marble columns outlined the space. The ceiling seemed to spiral into the heavens. Long tables laden with food and well-dressed people ran along three lengths of the room, leaving the polished floor in the center open. Musicians played from an alcove. At the head table, the fourteen-year-old king sat at the center, distinguishable by his ornate chair and gold crown. Massive windows behind the king looked out over the wall and across the sprawling valley.
