Strife & Valor: Book II of The Rorke Burningsoul Saga Regina Watts (e book reader online .TXT) 📖

his thin chest. Valeria had adopted a similar posture, leaning against the unsteady dresser on the bed’s other side. The mattress itself was host to Branwen and Odile—each of whom flanked none other than Lively of Soot.

I almost did not recognize Erdwud’s wife for as reddened as her face had grown beneath the onslaught of tears, beneath the dirt of her journey, beneath the ashes of her home. To see me standing there, she ceased her weeping for only a few seconds—then another wave came on, stronger than ever, and she threw herself into my arms.

“Burningsoul,” she cried, “sire! Please—Soot—help—”

“The gimlets,” said Odile, glancing over at Branwen. “I told you they were bad news.”

“They raided Soot—oh, the very day you lot left, they attacked the village in broad daylight and ransacked every building. Erdwud, oh! He tried to—he tried—Erduwd!”

With a violent sob, Lively pressed her tear-stained face to my breastplate and wept in a way that caused convulsions. My heart sinking into a great bog of remorse to think of Erdwud losing his life in such a sorry way—not to mention, to do so the same day I had left the town—I eased Lively gently upon the edge of the bed once again. Kneeling before her, I took her hands in mine and told her, “It’s all right to cry, Lively…I am so sorry.”

While Lively dissolved into tears, the Mongoose’s innkeeper—and, of course, Erdwud’s friend—at last spoke up. “She said they had a woman with ‘em.”

Remorse deepening, I looked at Sharp before turning my questioning gaze upon Valeria.

“Yes,” agreed the Materna of the durrow, assessing me expectantly. “She was looking for you.”

“Screaming and screaming and screaming,” said Lively with a shudder, her hands lifting to either side of her forehead. Her eyes squeezed shut. ““Where’s Burningsoul? Who’s hiding the paladin? Bring me the slave of Weltyr!” On and on and on, every time she found a new person to scream at.”

“And did you tell her?”

Nodding, Lively said, “When I heard her in our inn and Erdwud was cornered, I came downstairs. I said, ‘He’s not here! He’s not here, he’s gone to Skythorn!’”

“Did she believe you?”

“I—I think. But—oh, it didn’t matter. This is my punishment, I know that it is! I ought not to have told you about her. She told me she’d keep Erdwud—all of Soot!—hostage to the gimlets until you came to meet her.”

Relieved to hear that, at the very least, Erdwud may still have been alive, I patted Lively’s hands. “And so I shall—”

“Rorke!” Her eyes ringed with terror, Branwen leaned forward and said, “You can’t! If this woman really is a faerie—”

“If she really is a faerie, then she’ll be able to find me wherever I go…if that’s what she really is, and what she wants is me, then it seems to me she’s capable of far worse than what she’s already accomplished in the name of opening a dialogue.”

The embrace of Gundrygia’s hot arms; the whispers that shook me, even without my clear recollection. It all rushed back while I knelt before Lively.

I confess to you and you alone, my friend: my heart was full of dread in that moment.

I had been so glad to leave Soot behind! Not only because it meant that we were truly free of the shackles of the Nightlands. In truth, I was glad to be away from Soot because I was frightened of Gundrygia. I was frightened of her knowledge; I was frightened of her power; I was frightened by my own yearning for her, which I had failed to recognize as such until the very moment I learned that I needed to see her again.

And Weltyr, finding my heart emptied by this fear, filled it up again with courage. Valeria, my prize from the underworld I had already escaped, came to my side and knelt with me before Lively.

“I can promise you, Lively—if there is one man in all Urde capable of ridding Soot of its captor and liberating your husband, it is Rorke Burningsoul.”

“He saved me, remember,” said Branwen, who might have been ill-positioned with me in that moment but nonetheless received an appreciative nod in exchange for her vote of confidence.

“Yeah,” agreed Odile. “As far as people who talk about religion all the time go, he’s very dependable in battle.”

Indra, clasping Lively’s hands, added with a nod, “And kind! I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you.”

“Of course I will be,” I told her, eliciting a few more tears of gratitude and a kindly little sob. “Yes, I will certainly be happy to help—but please, you all must be very careful in the city without me.”

“You must let us come with you,” Valeria insisted, her slim hand sliding along my shoulder.

Branwen nodded. “After last time, if she takes you away it could be forever.”

“Someone has to stay here and be of comfort to you,” I told Lively, standing.

Odile, looking relieved to hear me say such a thing, suggested, “Aye, and someone has to buy those airship tickets.”

“The airship is out,” I told them, eliciting four sharp glances in my direction. “I’ll explain it when I can—but to some of you, that may not be for a couple of days. I have to ride to Soot. Indra and Odile, why don’t you two stay here with Lively. Valeria and Branwen, you two come with me.”

While rising, I patted Lively’s hand one last time. “You didn’t walk here, surely, Lively?”

“I think she aimed to make me, but I walked to the Dardrie ranch and stole a horse. They didn’t seem to be needing it, what with their being brought into town and made captive with the rest of us. Think the gimlets were planning to eat the horses…”

Her lips trembled and, watering eyes fixed upon me beneath her furrowed brow, Lively said, “What could they want, sire? Why would the gimlets attack now, after all this time?”

Leaning forward in her seat, she asked in a hoarse whisper, “What does she want with you, Master Rorke?”

How I wondered!

Yes, how