CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
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Jameson Wicket
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27th of Decepter, 935 PC
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They’d come up on Gella’s Ring, a massive stone circle standing on a platform made of dirt right on the border of Resk and Serelle. Not a person alive truly knew the origins of the monument, but lots of people liked to say it was a peace offering between two tribes way back when. All it was now though was something to look at and a place for people to have weddings.
Camila had wandered after Lace when he went over to take a closer look at the monument and it made Wicket’s stomach feel three kinds of twisted and upset. The man might have been built like two men but he acted like an angry boy that wasn’t used to being told no. Didn’t take much to imagine Lace taking some frustration out on Camila if she stood her ground against any advancements a man like Lace makes on a woman like Camila.
“James,” Ashe said behind Wicket. “Would you mind handing me my waterskin, please?”
When they’d realized Kit was going to cling to the few threads of life he had left in him tighter than a drunk holds his bottle of rum, Ashe had insisted they bring the Lotus with them. Lace had almost passed out with rage, chopped at a tree like a crazed woodsman until he was huffing and puffing so hard all he could do was sit down and glare at the Lotus. Wicket couldn’t say it wasn’t nice to have those burning eyes on someone else for a change but it didn’t last long. When the warrior got his head on straight he came after Wicket for using his charm on him, then for not being a strong enough leader, then because the fucking sky was blue and every other thing he could think of. The bitching went on longer than the arguments Wicket used to have with Iris. Problem was, everything he said was true. Just like with Iris.
“Your brother’s got a temper,” Wicket said, handing Ashe a waterskin to give the Kit a drink.
“Gets that from our father. You should see them when they’re together. Brings tears to mother’s eyes when they get after one another.” Ashe put the skin to Kit’s lips and held the back of his head. “How are you feeling?”
Kit swallowed the water like it was the hardest thing in the world to do then said, “Kaya no kalle tem.”
“Only makes us stronger,” Ashe said, finishing the Lotus’ words in a language Wicket understood. “I think the worst of it’s over. You just need rest and you’ll make some kind of recovery. Not sure what will come of your ankle or hand but the ribs should mend themselves with time.”
Kit had done all he could to not be a burden, but when your foot needs amputated, your hand won’t open, and your lungs sound like you’ve got the dark demise, you become a burden whether you mean to or not. Getting the boy on and off horses was hard enough. Keeping him on was damn near impossible. Whoever had him on their horse had to move at a pace much too slow for Lace’s liking. Wicket’s either but he hadn’t said that out loud yet.
“So, what exactly happened?” Wicket asked. They’d waited a whole day and a half to start asking the Lotus what had happened back down river because his brain was damn near worthless the day before.
“Don’t know. One minute I was reading old documents in the cabin, the next everyone was screaming and we were going down. Hit the ground before I ever got out of the door. Probably for the best. Everyone outside died according to my captain.”
“So your captain lived?”
“Aye. Left me where you found me a few hours before you showed up. Said he couldn’t do anything for me.” He scoffed. “That’s life in the Lotus Army though. Keep up or die trying. Lucky I wasn’t with my old captain. He would have killed me when he saw I couldn’t walk.” Wicket probably should have done the same but sympathy doesn’t always make the best choices.
“What documents were ya readin’?” Wicket asked. When a man tells you he’s not happy with the men he fought alongside, you ask more questions.
“Plans. Letters back and forth between the Lotus Queen and people she used to get her power.” Wicket didn’t need to hear about those, he’d delivered some of those. Strange though, he figured they’d be locked up in her castle. “Are you going to kill me?” Kit’s question shouldn’t have taken Wicket by surprise but he’d never really dealt with a captive that had the ability to ask a question.
“Lords no!” Ashe said but then glanced at Wicket.
The whole group had talked about this the night before. Took one guess to know what Lace thought they should do but the rest of them could see the boy had no intentions of hurting any of them. Truth be told, there was no telling where his magic would go anyway with all his busted up and broken fingers. Probably safest for him not to throw the stuff.
“Kit,” Wicket said with that tone people use when they need to tell you bad news. Kit looked at him with the only eye that would open. “How would you feel about this being the place we left ya?”
“You’re not actually considering leaving him out here? He’ll die without us,” Ashe said.
“We’ll leave him some food and water. I’ll hunt some squirrels and cook ‘em for him myself. This is the kind of place people show up at all the time. Pretty good place for him to have a run-in with some good folk that can help him.”
Ashe put the lid back on the waterskin and placed it on the stone floor of the cave. “Or bandits could show up and kill him for no reason at all.”
“Any number of bad things could happen to all of us at any time, Ashe,” Wicket said. “The what ifs ain’t how ya should go about gettin’ important tasks done. We need to be in White Hall sooner rather than later and he’s slowin’ us down.”
“Then the rest of you can go ahead without me. I’ll stay here with Kit and make sure he makes a full recovery.” He looked at Kit. “Or at least the best one I can give you.”
Kit raised his good hand, the one that still opened but had a couple broken fingers, and pointed at Wicket. “He’s right.” That’s all he said. Not a word more. And trying to figure out what emotions were on that messed up face of his was impossible so knowing how he truly felt wasn’t easy.
Yormir wandered into the cave with a smoke stick in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other. He handed the rum to Wicket immediately but all Wicket did was take it and put it on the ground beside him. Even though his head was screaming at him to take a sip. “Well shit, still alive is he.” He pulled a Leo from his pocket and tossed it to Ashe. “Guess you were right. We still shootin’ later? Gotta get that thing figured out for ya.” Ashe nodded.
“What do you think we should do about Kit?” Ashe asked The Old Wolf.
“Kill him or leave him. We got places to be.” He made a face at the Lotus as if to say the truth hurts sometimes. Kit didn’t react.
Ashe was much more defeated than the Lotus. He moved himself farther from Kit and leaned against the wall. He didn’t say anything else on the matter, just sat there knowing he was outnumbered.
Stolen novel; please report.
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Gella’s Ring was the tallest thing Wicket had ever seen that wasn't a mountain. It had to be a few hundred feet tall and another hundred feet wide. The ring itself was made of solid granite and was two cows wide. He made himself chuckle thinking about how big of a fuck up whoever made the thing had to have made to need a gift this big.
His smile died quick though, he was there to make his own kind of peace offering with Lace but the sign on the warrior’s face said closed. He went for it anyway. He needed to bridge the gap between them before they got to Northcrest, couldn’t be fighting his own men and Lotus at the same time if he wanted to see Cora again. “Mind if I sit?” He took Lace’s silence as a yes but was about as confident in that as he was as a leader. He measured the typical arm’s length and then some as he found a place to sit on the stone ring.
It was the longest time he’d ever sat beside a man and not said a word. Eventually, Wicket pulled the golden locket out of his pocket and held his palm open for Lace to see. Stubborn prick wouldn’t look at it though. Then, for the first time in years he let it out of his possession, laid it on the granite between them. It took a bit but curiosity finally got the big bruiser to glance at it.
“What is it?” Lace asked.
“Bad memories.”
“You carry your bad memories around with you?”
“Reckon we all do for a while but I wanted to make sure I never forgot mine.”
When Lace picked the locket up Wicket held his breath. For a second he could feel the other man’s fingers poking at his heart as he fiddled with the keepsake.
“Did it belong to her?” Lace asked.
“No. My mum gave it to me. A few months before Iris killed her.”
Lace dug a finger between the sides of the locket and pried it open. It disappeared into his meaty claw, the chain hanging out of his fist, as he unfolded the piece of parchment. “What are these?”
“The people I killed or helped kill when I was with her.”
“I expected more,” Lace said.
“Reckon if ya count what’s been goin’ on in this war it’d be covered front and back. But those are the ones I had a hand in. The ones that haunt me every night.” He looked at the ground between his dangling feet.
The silence was torn apart as Lace ripped the piece of parchment in half. Wicket’s head snapped up to see him tearing it again, then twice more. The parchment hit the dirt at their feet like snow falling from a tree branch. He stood and turned to Wicket. Their eyes were locked tight as Lace snapped the locket in half and dropped it. “You’re no better than them.” He walked away with that mighty strut he was so good at, his fur cloak swaying with his shoulders.
Wicket stared at the tragedy in the dirt, not knowing what to do. Until finally, he dropped down off the stone ring and lowered himself to his knees. Piece by piece he rounded up the parchment and stuffed as much of it as he could back into the broken locket, putting the two halves together carefully. For a moment he considered taking it with him, made perfect sense to him, the rest of his past was broken and ugly enough for it to fit right in. But instead he dug a hole at the base of the granite ring with his fingers and placed the locket in it. When he’d covered the ring up he patted the mound of disrupted dirt and said, “Please forgive me.”
He walked back toward the cave planning how he was going to kill Lace.
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“Gotta say, Wick, he is slowin’ us down,” Yormir said.
It wasn’t all that bad of an evening considering winter was already weeks old at this point, so they’d all decided to spend some time outside the cave. Better than being on top of each other when the group couldn’t agree on the easiest of things, let alone what to do with a captive.
“We don’t have a schedule,” Wicket said, throwing back a swig of rum and staring at Lace who was pacing back and forth in the mud at the edge of the nearby river. Fuck Alaric. He knew damn well this cunt would be on my case the whole way out here. He took another swig, then several more. He caught Camila watching him but the rum had already gotten a hold of him.
In truth, he knew the sooner they were in White Hall the better but he’d be damned if he was about to do anything that would make Lace’s day. Besides, schedules only worked when things weren’t important. Slap a bit of urgency on something and you could guarantee things would go to the three hells in a handbasket. He didn’t need any help with that.
Ashe walked back from retrieving his bolts. Camila had taken over the task of helping him with his aim when Yormir sniffed out the anger bubbling under Wicket’s fake smile. “I think I’m getting the hang of it. Must be bloody hard when the target’s moving though.”
“That’s why ya wait until they’re standing still,” Yormir said and tried to take the bottle of rum from Wicket. He tugged on it twice before he gave up.
“I think it would be fine if Kit stayed with us,” Camila said, redoing the braid she couldn’t seem to keep in. The sun sat right behind her. It’d be saying goodnight soon, making room for the frost to say hello. “So we get there a little slower than we thought. The way I see it, it keeps us alive a bit longer.”
Ashe took a pitter puff of the smoke stick Yormir had convinced him to try the night before and made a face. There wasn’t a face he could make to look ugly but this one was close. “I feel it necessary to point out that he’s done nothing to any of us. Just like he promised.”
“He stays with us until we can find a good place to leave him,” Wicket said.
“We ain’t gonna find a better place than this,” Yormir said, taking the smoke stick back from Ashe.
Wicket had said the same thing himself that afternoon but that was before Lace had pissed him off worse than he’d be in a long, long time. If he could bring the Lotus with them and piss the fucker off about it, why wouldn’t he? “Ashe can paint us up a cave wherever the hell he wants.”
Yormir held out his hand for the rum. “Not gonna be sitting right beside a landmark that brings people to him though.”
Camila sat down beside Wicket on the rock outside the cave’s mouth, putting her arm on his shoulder. “We should play some cards.”
“I ain’t in the mood to lose more money,” Wicket said, thinking about Lace snapping his mum’s locket in half. Camila removed her arm, looking just as rejected as Cora did when he ignored her pleas to work on her fighting. Only Camila tugged on his heartstrings even more because she’d been without a decent father for much longer than Cora. Alaric might love her, Wicket couldn’t say he didn’t, but he definitely didn’t respect her on account of not having any magic in her soul. Wicket sighed. “Let me think about what to do about Kit, then I’d love to play a few hands.”
Lace was wandering back toward them now. He sniffed up all the snot in his nose and got it into his throat before spitting it out loudly. “I’m tired of these games. I’m killing him.”
“No one’s killing anyone,” Ashe said. “I’ve accepted the fact that we might not be able to save him but I refuse to allow you to kill him. He hasn’t done anything to us and he hates the Lotus Army just as much as we do.”
“Don’t try to compare him to me,” Lace said. “He’s one of her pathetic worshippers.” He stared at Wicket as he said the last part.
“Will you shut the fuck up?!” Wicket said, standing up and walking toward the brothers who now hovered over the injured Lotus.
Lace shoved Ashe aside and met Wicket’s glare with one that had to be scarier than his own. “What? You gonna use your magic on me again? Kill me when I can’t defend myself,” Lace said.
“That’s all you’re doin’ to him. Boy don’t have a bad bone in him. You’d see that if you weren’t such a cunt,” Wicket said.
“No, no. That ain’t the problem at all. The problem is you can’t stop thinking about a cunt you used to love. Don’t wanna hurt one of her precious creations.” Lace reached for his sword. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit.” He shoved Wicket away with one of his thick arms – felt like getting hit with a brick.
Kit looked up at them with wide eyes. If Wicket wasn’t mistaken, which he could be from time to time, the boy was trembling. Maybe from the cold, but he doubted it. Lace rolled him onto his stomach with a forceful boot and stepped on his back.
“I wanna kill her more than you’ll ever know!” Wicket screamed. Lace looked up from Kit, a cruel snarl still on his face. He lowered his voice. “I want her dead because she’s a horrible, horrible person. She killed innocent people and made me kill ‘em too. Can’t think of nobody that deserves a taste of her own medicine more than Iris Everton. And this boy’s gone and got himself caught up in her cause too but he ain’t like her. I can tell ya that with every ounce of my heart.” Despite his better judgment, he offered one more olive branch with the tone of his voice. “There was a time I’d cut him up real good too, Lace, but he ain’t our problem. Ya gotta let good people live so they can help stop people like her.” He wiped the spittle that had shot out of his mouth. “You want that, don’t ya, boy?” Kit nodded his head in the dirt. He turned back to Lace. When the warrior’s face didn’t soften, Wicket said, “If you touch him it’ll be the last thing ya ever do. I’ll walk ya right into that river and let ya take a swim ya won’t come back from.”
The muscles in Lace’s blocky jaw clenched nice and tight as they stared each other down, neither giving an inch. He pressed down hard on Kit’s back with his boot and called him scum before walking away.