Blood-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book I ]

44

Matei looked like one of the wood-rangers now in a dark green tunic and breeches, but he had not bathed. He walked hunched over, still obviously in pain. Even now, as he gathered all his strength and authority about him, Mhera could see it.

"Uachi u Rora! How dare you begin this charade without me! You should have sent for me. I should have been here at the start!" Matei's face was pale, but anger burned in a red flush along his cheekbones.

"Hardly. You are biased, Matei, and besides, you needed rest and a change of bandages. I see you did not get that far. Have you shown any others what the Corpsemaker, in his infinite kindness, did to Matei u Rhodana?"

Matei crossed to the front of the room and reached out to place his hand on Mhera's shoulder. She flinched and pulled away from him. Did he think he was her ally when he had let them take her, left her in fear for her life? Yet for the first time since they had been parted, the ache in her heart eased.

"My friends, listen to me!" The folk had not begun their babble again. The raised voice was hardly necessary; all eyes were on Matei. "This woman is my companion and goes under my protection! It is to her I owe my freedom!"

A murmur buzzed through the room and quickly died away.

"I come bearing a message of great importance, and I would not be here to tell it were it not for her. Forgive me for usurping your 'trial,' Uachi," and Matei's tone made it clear that he wasn't the one who required forgiveness, "but this is for all of us to hear. Hanpe is in danger. The empire knows our settlement lies in the Duskwood. One of our comrades broken under torture."

Matei's announcement was met with stunned stares and silence.

"I would still be in the bowels of the palace—or dead—and unable to warn you all, were it not for this lady's aid. She came to me in the dead of night and gave me water to drink when I perished of thirst. She spoke to me kindly and showed me compassion. Her uncle—" Matei's voice caught, and he paused for a moment. "He killed Rhodana, my mother. He did violence to me, and to the others who were taken with me. I will not deny it. You want to see, Uachi?"

In one motion, Matei pulled off his tunic, flinching with the effort. He dropped the garment into Mhera's lap. She felt the warmth of his body in the cloth. She clutched the tunic and looked up.

Matei showed freely now what his grim determination had hidden: his back was crossed with the marks of a lash. One had festered, deep and ugly with ill humors. A memory of the wasted animal carcass in the forest flashed across her mind, red viscera and white bone.

There were no bandages to hide the wounds, although Rhea must have applied them. Perhaps he had been in the middle of changing them when he learned what was happening in the longhouse. Mhera saw the weeping wounds now as closely as a lover might, for he stood near enough to her to touch. Her stomach pulsed with disgust and pity.

Matei turned his back to the people to show them the lashes, which covered nearly all of his back. He gestured to Mhera with an open hand, looking her in the face, and his eyes said, Trust me. "Look at this woman and blame her for this. Look into her eyes and hold her accountable for the sins of her kin. Did she lift the lash?"

It was dead silent now. Matei turned back to the folk, presenting Mhera again with the gut-wrenching sight. She could not look away, and her vision blurred. Tears welled over her cheeks. She could not believe that her uncle had ordered this. Her mind worked, trying to find a way to reject it, but the truth was there before her, plain to see.

Matei went on. "I took advantage of her mercy, my friends, in order to escape, and that is why she is here. If there is guilt in her presence here, it is mine. She is innocent. A victim, in fact. But I had no choice, with Hanpe in danger. We must move our settlement, and do it quickly."

Murmuring had started up again, rippling around the room. Some faces were angry; most were terrified. There were some children present; one or two could be heard to asking loud questions in thin, innocent voices.

"If you still wish to execute this innocent woman and lay any claim you have to goodness in the grave, consider this." Matei raised his hand; a thin scab still crossed his palm. He took three steps back until he stood again at Mhera's side. "We are blood-bound!"

There was a sudden, confused hush. Folk stared at his raised hand. Matei went on, "Not all of you know what this means. It is old magic—magic that has perhaps not been used in hundreds of years. But to break my prison, I had no choice; I needed more power than I alone possessed. This means that my life is hers. Her life is mine. Think on the sacrifice she has made, and not willingly, for the lives of her own family's enemies. But think also on this: you cannot kill her without killing me. When she breathes her last, so do I."

Uachi strode to them. Mhera shrank away from him, but he was coming for Matei. He grabbed Matei's wrist, pulling his hand down. "You fool," he muttered.

"Kill her, and I die. It is your choice. I surrender to the people's justice," Matei said. The challenge had gone out of his voice. He only sounded tired now.

Whispers passed through the room, soft as the sound of autumn leaves blown on the wind, but no one dared to speak up. Uachi dropped Matei's hand and turned away from him, looking at Tryn. The woman looked unhappy, but she slowly shook her head.

"Then she's in your keeping," Uachi said. "Watch her closely, Matei. If I sense danger from this wench, I won't hesitate to run her through—even if it means your life."