I’d give him this: the man was brutally efficient. He’d been working from the moment the sun went down and had not stopped moving once for hours. He did not eat. He did not rest. He just worked.
He also had been slowly discarding his clothing over the course of the night—first jacket, then belt, then shirt, even his boots. Now he wandered around in the mud, shirtless and barefoot, his hair messily half thrown up in a leather binding that barely clung to its hold.
“And who led you in this great heroic battle against the wraiths?” I asked. “Was that Atrius?”
It was a casual prod for information, and not one that I expected to go anywhere. But Erekkus’s presence immediately shifted, so abruptly that I stopped mid-movement, turning to him.
His back was to me as he tied up another tent roll, but I knew his hands had stopped moving.
I prodded his presence gently. Regret. Guilt. Sadness. But above all… shame. Deep, all-consuming shame. All of it clamped down, like a bandage over an old wound that never healed right.
“Yes,” he said curtly.
That wasn’t the whole answer.
I kept my voice light and casual. “Is he a good leader?”
Most of Erekkus’s discomfort melted away. “A great leader. We’re damned lucky to have him. Not often a soldier gets a commander who’s just as willing to walk over coals for you as the other way around. Especially not us.”
That was an interesting little addition.
“Especially not you?”
Another pause. He seemed suddenly very interested in tying down the tents.
Erekkus, I’d come to learn quickly, had a very big mouth. That would be useful to me, especially given that Atrius was about as transparent as a rock.
“Not sure if you know this,” Erekkus said, at last, “but the House of Blood is not very popular in Obitraes.”
I did know that, even with my scant knowledge of Obitraen society. The House of Blood was the cursed house, looked down upon by the Houses of Shadow and Night.
Of course, it would be suspicious for me to be so knowledgeable. So I just said, surprised, “Really? Why?”
“It’s a long, depressing story.” He waved his hand. “An old, boring, depressing story. Angry goddesses and entitled kings and vengeful curses. Your typical tragedy.”
“That doesn’t sound boring to me.”
“It’s boring if you live it.”
I made a mental note to come back to that one later. Maybe sometime I could make sure he had a bit too much to drink. He struck me as someone who would be a very chatty drunk.
I cast my attention again to Atrius, who now hauled materials into the back of a cart. He was… bigger than he’d seemed clothed. Well-built. Muscles worked over his back and shoulders as he lifted the crates into the cart, then winced and stretched.
Then again, if the way he had worked today was any indication of his usual habits, I guessed it should be no surprise that he looked like that.
“Didn’t realize blindfolded ladies could still be lecherous,” Erekkus said. “Still just as unsettling as all your other tricks. Maybe I’d feel differently if I was on the receiving end, though.”
“I’m not being lecherous,” I said, too quickly, turning back to the cart.
“No shame in it, Sister.”
“Don’t call me that,” I grumbled. “I’m not a Sister anymore.”
He barked a laugh. “So no more chastity vow, eh? That’s convenient.”
“I wasn’t being lecherous.”
I didn’t know why I said it again. I had nothing to prove.
Erekkus raised his hands. “Like I said, no shame in it. I’ve got no interest in the man, but even I’ll admit he’s a good-looking one. You wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last, either. Not that many people get lucky.”
I let him pull me up to the cart. When he dusted his hands off, he gave me a lopsided grin. “But hey, maybe you’ll be different. You’re just his type, actually.”
“His type?”
Erekkus leaned forward and gave me a conspiratorial smirk. He held out a finger with each word. “Beautiful. Mysterious. Dangerous. And an obvious, clear-as-the-fucking-moon mistake.”
11
Atrius’s horse was certainly Obitraen. The thing just radiated otherworldly power—a big, muscular draft horse, ghostly grey with dark, dappled legs marked with pink scars. It was one of the largest horses I’d ever seen, leaving Atrius towering over those who rode beside him. Unlike many of the other horses, who were clearly uneasy about their new vampire lords and needed to be constantly shushed and calmed, this one was stable as stone. Atrius constantly wove his fingers through the beast’s mane as he rode, eyes drawn out to the horizon, like he was staring a million miles away into the past or the future or both.
That little gesture—Atrius’s constant stroking of his horse’s mane—kept drawing my attention. It was… confusing. Most Glaean warriors were careful to never display weakness, ever, and such blatant affection for an animal would certainly count. I found it hard to reconcile this gesture with the man who had burst onto our shores with the vicious animosity of a wolf, ready to tear Glaea apart in his jaws.
We rode for a long time, Atrius taking up the front of the army. Erekkus and I weren’t far behind him, though off to the side, isolated from most of the other soldiers who trailed behind. This, I was sure, had to have been Atrius’s command—forever concerned about my safety among the other soldiers. That, too, was probably why Erekkus was constantly at my side. He was chatty, and often about nothing in particular, which got very old very fast—worse, because being in such a big crowd for so long tended to be exhausting for Arachessen. I was starting to feel the strain of it after a few days on the road. The headache at the back of my head and behind my eyes was now a constant, sharp pain.
Unpleasant. But I’d have to deal with it. I could be spending months in this position. Maybe years. It depended on what the Sightmother expected of me.
The Arachessen were never far from my mind. We operated independently on our missions, but given how important this one was, I’d be expected to find a way to make contact with the Sightmother soon and update her.
But I wasn’t given many chances to sneak off on my own. I thought that the first sunrise on the road would be my opportunity, but we didn’t even set up a proper camp that day, just enough to keep the vampires packed together and sheltered from the sunlight. With Erekkus two feet away from me, I wasn’t willing to risk sneaking out, especially not since I quickly learned the man basically didn’t sleep.
Finally, after a week of travel, we came to a wide, flat grassy patch of land. It was easy to defend, and spacious, and Atrius seemed conscious of the fact that his soldiers were growing weary after a week of nonstop travel and little rest. He had us erect real tents again, a camp that wasn’t as expansive as the one I’d been initially dragged into, but close.