His Captive Sorceress

Chapter 15: Men of Violence

Our horses have slowed to a walk. It's been hours since we escaped the Cerillis army, and from the pace we're moving, it's clear that the threat has passed. Trevus still rides beside me, but I refuse to look at him. Perhaps he's concerned I will take off now that I have control of Becky.

"Jade, you appear uneasy," Trevus says. Has he forgotten before the blood on his blade has even dried?

"Are those men dead?" I ask.

"The one with an injured leg – 'tis unlikely. The one for which my sword pierced his shoulder, 'tis yet to be discovered."

"Did you aim for his shoulder with the hope to spare his life?"

"I targeted him."

"So you intended to kill him?"

Giddius and Marcellus turn back to watch us.

"I intended to stop him," Trevus says. "The health of my opponent was not a priority during battle."

"Of course it wasn't," I spit. "Why would the life of a man who fought under your own banner mean anything to you."

"'Tis not that I wished him dead but that I wished to live. You may strive to avoid combat, but that is your virtue, not my own. To find those whom I love, I must leave such naïve principles at the city gate. And if you wish to survive in the world beyond your tower, you must do the same."

If I'd known running away with him would have led to those men being stabbed, I would have just surrendered at the trading post. "I made a regrettable choice," I say.

* * * * * * * *

With my chin on my knees, I follow the orange flames dancing in circles. The campfire keeps the cold night air away.

A bowl of soup blocks my view. It's Trevus again. I choose not to see it.

"Loathing shall not fill your belly," he says. "Eat, Jade."

My stomach agrees with him, and the tomato soup has a pleasant scent. He's a talented cook. I take the bowl with my bare hands.

Trevus sits beside me. He's persistent. Why does he care so much about what I think of him?

"Do share – what is worth shedding blood?" he asks.

I take a sip of my soup. Mehlia's memory haunts me whenever death is near. "I'm not sure anything is," I say.

"If one is threatened, surely 'tis just to save one's own life at the expense of the aggressor's?"

"I haven't forgotten your conversation with Giddius in Antiock," I say. "You knew that these men would pursue our party. You could have chosen never to go, and then we wouldn't be wondering if that horseman is being buried."

"If one's family is threatened, is it not just for one to take blood in their defense?"

Tytius is a king. Is his life truly in danger? "How long has your father been a prisoner of Mephia?" I ask.

"Nearly a decade," Trevus says.

"Then who's to say he wouldn't live a decade more?"

"Death shall take his soul in days if I do not reach him," Trevus says.

In only days? I wait for him to say more.

"The cavalry we encountered today were only the Scout Unit. Hundreds more footmen follow. They march to Nepolis with the intent to rescue King Tytius."

"Then why are we here? You said there are hundreds of them?" I'd like more than anything to end this whole mission without having to step into that castle.