King's Warrior Read online

  He tucked his thoughts away as he strode into the war room and skirted around the table, ignoring the heated argument and the bows that followed in his wake. There wasn’t anything he could do to change his past actions, but, from today on, he could be better.

  He caught his father’s attention as their advisors began to argue again. The king rolled his eyes as Tehl sat down and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Son.”

  “Father.”

  It was odd having his father here after his prolonged absence. Odd, but not unwelcome. If they were to survive the upcoming war, they needed every man, especially their king.

  Tehl focused on their advisors. Jeren was red in the face, but that wasn’t new; the man was perpetually angry.

  “What’s going on? What’s Jeren angry about this time?”

  “Jeren is arguing for throwing the Scythian woman in the prison.”

  Tehl straightened and zeroed in on Blaise, who sat five seats down from him on his left. Her fingers clenched around the arms of the chair as Jeren said something particularly rude. Surprise flickered through him, though, when Rafe slid a hand over the top of her left curled fist. Her head whipped to the side, and she hissed at him quietly, pulling her hand from his. Interesting. What was that about?

  “You can’t expect us to believe that you’d help your enemy,” Jeren accused, “and become a traitor for nothing. Why have you come here? To spy?”

  “How long has this been going on?” Tehl whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Going on twenty minutes,” his father answered.

  “And why have you let it go on for so long?” The whole thing seemed a bit ridiculous. Blaise had already proven her loyalty.

  “Because our advisers had a valid point that needs to be argued. We both know she’s not here to harm us, but they don’t. They deserve to have their say, and I’m curious how much it will take to crack her,” his father murmured. “She seems most unflappable, but there’s an undercurrent of rage flowing just below the surface.”

  “She won’t crack,” Tehl muttered, watching the drama unfold as the voices rose. “She was in our prison for months.” They’d tried everything, and nothing had worked.

  “But you didn’t have him with you,” his father remarked, glancing in Rafe’s direction. “He seems…very protective of her.”

  Tehl studied the rebellion leader, noting how close he sat to Blaise. Rafe shifted in his seat, causing Blaise to glare at him and scoot closer to Sam. That in itself was interesting, but what intrigued Tehl even more was the dangerous expression Rafe was aiming at Jeren.

  “He’s angry,” Tehl commented. That was an understatement. He looked like he wanted to rip the advisor’s head off.

  “Indeed,” his father said softly. “Why do you think that is?”

  His gaze slid to Blaise who sat so still she looked to be carved from stone, completely ignoring the giant of a man by her side. “She’s rebuffed his help.”

  “Every man hates when a woman won’t let him protect her,” his father commented. “Especially when he considers her his.”

  Tehl’s brows rose. Now, that was an interesting turn of events. Blaise and Rafe? Well, more like just Rafe. Blaise was doing everything in her power to ignore the rebellion leader.

  “Who knows how much we can trust you?” Lelbiel commented, interrupting Tehl’s thoughts. “We don’t know you. How can we be sure you weren’t part of the plot to hurt the princess?”

  Blaise slapped her hands against the table and stood from her chair, her body vibrating with anger. “How dare you?” she hissed.

  His advisor wrinkled his nose. “It was a valid question, my lady.”

  She leaned forward, her gaze locked on Lelbiel. “I would never, never hurt Sage. That woman has been through more horrors than all of you put together, but not by my hand.” She scanned the table. “Some of you were even a part of those horrors,” she accused. “I refuse to be lumped in with that sick monster on Scythia’s throne. We may share the same bloodline, but he is not my family.”

  William steepled his finger and met Blaise’s penetrating gaze. “We’re not blaming you, my lady.”

  “It sounds like it,” Rafe growled.

  Blaise glared at the rebellion leader, and then focused back on William.

  “I understand your frustration. We know what you’ve done for our princess.” He held his hands out. “Please understand our position, though. How would you react if an enemy found their way into your inner circle? Not only that, but they were from the royal line and claimed to renounce their kingdom? It sounds a little far-fetched, doesn’t it?”

  Blaise chuckled and straightened, crossing her arms. “As much as an immortal king creating a perfect race of enhanced people?”

  Silence met her statement.

  Her gaze swept the table, and she paused on Tehl. “I am here because it is right to be. My people live in fear. Death and cruelty occur all too often.” She pushed back her heavy, braided black hair and bowed at the waist. “I am here to help and serve Aermia in the dangerous time ahead. If the warlord continues to rule, both our peoples will cease to exist. His tyranny cannot continue.”

  “Agreed,” Tehl said. “Are you prepared to fight against your own people? You will be branded a traitor. Think carefully. Words are easily said. Action is much more difficult.”

  She straightened, her lips thinning. “I have already been branded a traitor. The decision’s already been made. The moment I cross into Scythia will mean my death.” Her expression hardened. “And anyone who stands with that monster are not my people.”

  A quiet descended over the room at her declaration.

  Tehl’s father slowly stood and stepped down from his seat. Blaise warily watched him as he approached her. She crossed her arms over her chest and sketched a bow. “Your highness,” she murmured.

  “There’s no need for that,” his father rumbled, taking her hand. “You’re as much a royal as I am, my lady.”

  Tehl hid a smile as Blaise blinked, clearly not expecting his gracious words. That was the thing about his father, he could charm almost anyone.

  “I thank you,” she said, still gaping at the king.

  His father patted her on the hand. “You’ve made an immense sacrifice for my family. It will not be forgotten any time soon. Aermia will gladly accept your help, and, what’s more, we’ll support you after we rid the world of the warlord. Scythia could stand to have a leader like you on the throne.”

  Her eyes widened at the oath, and she glanced over his father’s shoulder at Tehl for confirmation.

  “It will be done.” It was only fair they do what they could for her after the sacrifice she’d made and would still make. Logically, it was brilliant. If Blaise took the throne, they’d have an ally in Scythia for the first time in hundreds of years.

  “Thank you,” she said to his father. “I accept your offer.”

  Chills erupted on his arms. In that moment, they’d made history. Aermia had formed an alliance with Scythia. Never in his lifetime had Tehl guessed such a thing was possible. It was surreal.

  His father released her hand and turned to the table. “Lelbiel, draft up an alliance. I’d like it in my office by tomorrow morning.” He paused and scanned the table of men. “We’ve changed the course of history today. Now we have to prepare for it.”

  The men nodded around the table.

  “We’ll meet again tomorrow to discuss and sign the treaty.” The king turned back to Blaise. “As long as that’s acceptable to you?”

  She looked startled at his attention to her. “It is.”

  The king smiled at Blaise. “It’s settled then. Until tomorrow.”

  The Scythian woman blinked, and an answering smile adorned her face. It was all Tehl could do not to gape. He snapped his jaw closed and blinked several times. She was usually so stoic and grave. When Blaise really smiled, it transformed her into a completely different woman, and he wasn’t the only one to notice.
Rafe openly stared, his entire being homed in on her. But she seemed oblivious, smiling prettily at the king.

  “I look forward to it, your highness,” she murmured.

  His father grinned down at Blaise and waved at hand at the table. “The rest of you are dismissed.”

  The men around the table reluctantly stood and filed toward the doors. Zachael stretched in his chair and stood, making his way toward Tehl. “Any change in Sage?” he asked, leaning a hip against the table.

  “She’s awake.” That was the best news he had.

  The weapons master clapped his hands together and smiled. “That’s wonderful news. I knew she’d pull through. Our girl would never let sickness take her from us.”

  Tehl swallowed hard, loathing the way he felt thankful that the warlord had given Sage a draught and yet hating it at the same time.

  Zachael eyed him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Focus on your gratefulness, so your anger doesn’t tear you apart.”

  He blew out a breath. “How do you always know what I’m thinking? It’s uncanny.”

  “I’ve had a hand in raising you, my lord.”

  “That’s the truth if I ever heard it,” Garreth said, limping closer. “We basically lived in the training ring for years.”

  Tehl forced himself not to focus on his friend’s shuffling gait. It hurt to watch each painful movement. No matter how much Garreth tried to hide it, the pain still showed through. “Brothers in arms.” He held his forearm out.

  “Absolutely,” Garreth said, clasping forearms. “How is our princess?”

  “Awake.” He glanced over to Blaise, who had turned in their direction.

  “She’s awake?” she asked, concern plainly on her face.

  “Yes, and she’s asking for you.”

  “Then I better go to her.” She turned on her heel.

  He pushed from his chair and strode after her. “I’ll escort you. I promised I’d bring you to her.” This was not a promise he’d break.

  Blaise glanced over her shoulder, a black brow arched. “In exchange for what? What deal did you strike with her to keep her in bed?”

  Tehl scowled, holding his arm out for her. “Why must everything be an exchange?”

  “Because you’re both much too stubborn, from what I hear.”

  “Rumors,” he muttered as she waved away his arm and followed him to the door.

  “I’m sure,” she replied sarcastically.

  Their journey back to the infirmary lapsed into silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Tehl always cherished a companion who didn’t need to fill the silence with chatter. Blaise seemed to be of the same mind.

  “How is she really?” she asked when they neared the infirmary.

  He wouldn’t sugarcoat it. “Disoriented. Cold. Anxious.”

  Blaise opened and closed her mouth before staying silent.

  Clearly, she wanted to speak.

  “Just tell me,” he sighed. “I prefer the truth, even if it is blunt and harsh.”

  “She won’t be the same person as before,” she cautioned.

  He already knew that. “I know.”

  “The girl you married is dead. My uncle will have made sure of that. He—” She paused in the quiet hallway, squeezing her eyes closed. “He is an expert in breaking people and reshaping them into what he desires them to be.”

  “Sage is strong.”

  “She is, but he is old, calculating, and vicious. I’m amazed she was able to function at all when we escaped.” Blaise hung her head.

  A rock sunk in his gut. “What are you saying?”

  She exhaled heavily. “I’m saying that every step you make needs to be a calculation, it needs to be for her benefit. If she gets in too deep, you have to pull her from the water. Your burden might be too much for her to bear now.”

  Understanding dawned. “You don’t think she can rule.”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, her dark eyes sad. “Maybe she will be able to. I only understand the warlord. What he’s capable of.” She sighed. “Nothing will be all right for a long time, if ever. Prepare yourself for that or let her go.”

  “Let her go? Like a divorce?” he asked, the words tasting like ash on his tongue. He’d never divorce her. She was his wife even if she was changed, suffering damage. They were bound, and he wouldn’t abandon her.

  “No, not a divorce. I meant you’ll have to put her in a country home to live out her life in peace. She deserves that.” A shrug. “If she can’t handle ruling, that will be the best option for her, instead of letting her waste away in some tower in this castle. She’d be miserable there.”

  He hated the idea outright. Hated it. He’d grown accustomed to Sage, and, what’s more, he loved her family. They’d become part of his own family while she was gone. If she was gone, it would tear another hole in his. He glanced to the side. None of that mattered. No matter how he felt about it, if it was the best thing for Sage, he’d do it. That was what you did for your family, and there was no one who deserved it more.

  “If that’s what she wants, I will do it. But I won’t force anything on her.”

  Blaise studied him, her head cocked. “I was taught that the princes of Aermia were monsters. In my mind, I found it hard to imagine anything worse than the warlord.” A dark smile. “Which is why he always hated me. But, after spending months in your dungeon, I realized one important thing.”

  “What was that?” he asked, not knowing where the conversation was going.

  “That no matter how much the warlord tried to turn himself into the hero, he was always the villain. And no matter how much I tried to turn you into the villain, you were the hero.” She held his gaze. “You’re not what I expected, Tehl Ramses, and you treated me better than I deserve after what I did to that village.” She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry for my part in hurting your people.”

  An apology. He didn’t expect that.

  “We have all done things we aren’t proud of. It’s how we fix those mistakes that is important. And, by my account, you’ve done everything in your power to atone for those things. You not only have my forgiveness, but my thanks,” he said roughly. Sage would still be stuck in that hellhole if it hadn’t been for Blaise and Maeve.

  “I don’t deserve it,” she said, shaking her head.

  “No one deserves forgiveness. That’s what makes it so special.” His mother had taught him that.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She smiled at him and held her hand out. “Allies?”

  He clasped her small hand. “Brothers in arms.”

  She flashed her teeth in a grin. “Sisters in arms.”

  Tehl smiled. No wonder Sage liked the fiery Scythian woman. She was a lot like his wife.

  Eight

  Sage

  She wanted out of the bed and the room.

  “Haven’t you slept enough?” a familiar voice asked.

  Sage glanced to the side, and she smiled. “Blaise.”

  The Scythian woman grinned at her from her chair. “I thought you were never going to wake up.”

  Slowly, Sage pushed herself up from her cot and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “It’s the only thing I’m allowed to do, apparently,” she grumbled.

  Blaise stood and sat on the edge of the cot, patting her foot through the thick blanket. “You need to heal. That takes time.”

  “I know.” And she did. Her legs had collapsed out from under her almost the moment Tehl left, and she’d been weak as a kitten since. Sage slid her hand over her friend’s and squeezed before releasing it. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  A wry smile. “Not much can hurt me.”

  Red flashed across Sage’s vision. “There was so much blood.” She shook her head to dispel the memory. “The last time I saw you, I thought you would die. How did you survive such a beating?”

  Emotions rippled over Blaise’s face. “There’s not much I can’t survive.” A shrug. “I’m Scythian. I was bred to survive, and I’ve been through wor
se.”

  That broke her heart. Blaise caught her expression and shook her head.

  “It is what it is.”

  That bastard had scarred more than just Sage.

  Blaise glanced over her shoulder at Jasmine. “How is she?”

  Sage glanced at her sleeping friend, frowning. Mira hadn’t been able to hide her concern. If Mira was concerned about Jasmine, her condition was dangerous. “She’s not well,” she admitted. “But, with time, I’m sure she’ll get better. Plus, Nali will help.”

  The feline’s ear twitched at her name, but Nali otherwise made no move but to cuddle closer to the shivering Jasmine.

  “She doesn’t deserve this fate,” Blaise growled.

  “No, she doesn’t,” Sage whispered. Who knew how long Jasmine’s body could survive such a fever? It had to break. It had to. A wave of sorrow and guilt moved through her. Sage ruthlessly shoved her feelings down. They wouldn’t change anything. The best she could do was hope and pray.

  Sage exhaled and focused on Blaise. “Have you been taken care of?”

  “My care has been excellent.”

  “I can see with my own two eyes that you’re fine physically,” Sage said. “I meant, are they being kind to you?” Harsh words could be worse than a beating.

  “By ‘they,’ do you mean the royals?” Blaise asked, picking at her nails.

  “By the stars, you know how to skirt an issue,” Sage muttered. “Sam would be proud.”

  “I’m sure after the few months I spent in the dungeon, he understands my gift of avoidance.”

  Sage rolled her eyes. If they beat around the bush, she’d fall asleep before she got the information she wanted. “Is the Crown forcing you to do anything you don’t want to?” she demanded. “If so, I will march from this room and fix it right now.” And she would as soon as her legs stopped shaking.

  Blaise chuckled. “I’m sure you would, and it would be a sight to see, but don’t worry yourself. Your royals can’t make me do anything I don’t want to.”