Pieces of Eight (The Frey Saga, #2)(49)

I could feel the horror and disgust distort my features and Ruby nodded in silent agreement. I considered the awfulness of it for a long, terrible moment before questions flooded in. I chose a random, less appalling one. "Why would Asher be involved in something so horrible?"

I saw in her expression, I'd hit the heart of it. She wanted to find a way not to explain, but she'd gone this far already and when she finally spoke, it was with her practiced "careful" tone. "Freya," she said, "in all fairness, it is not known that Asher was to blame."

"But-" I started.

She cut me off, holding up a hand. "It is thought so because of several factors, among them, the strong reaction of Rune. He was openly devastated by the loss, something that would have been an embarrassment to one of his position. But, furthermore, he was angered by the display."

"Rune didn't do it, he didn't even know?" I asked, baffled.

"It appeared he did not," she answered.

"So, what did he do?"

She shook her head. "Not as he should have. He held Chevelle responsible, entirely and for the remainder of his days."

I was mystified. "Ruby, I don't understand. Why would Asher care if Chevelle left?"

Her jaw clenched and she looked as if she would refuse to answer. I waited and she decided. "It was not Chevelle's leaving that he took issue with, Freya." She leaned forward and placed her hands on my shoulders. To steady me. "It was that his second intended to join in the departure."

It took longer than it should have to connect her words with their meanings. When they finally did, I was only able to whisper, "Then we ran?" My mind was racing in so many directions I could not pin one down but, for a moment, I couldn't help but remember my first real memories of Chevelle, how I'd ran from Fannie, from the village, how council had come after us...

Ruby was shaking her head. "No," she said, "you chose to stay."

"He left me?" I asked, with an unfair hint of resentment.

"No, Freya," she breathed, "he stayed for you."

I saw his crumpled body again, a mass of pain on the floor, felt the agony of Ruby's story, his mother's lifeless body brought to him as a threat or punishment by those that he must claim allegiance to. He stayed through that. For me.

It was quiet for a long while as we both sat, motionless. The torrent of emotion washed through me while my mind tried to re-sort itself once more. When Ruby finally moved, it was to glance up at Chevelle, who'd been standing near the doorway, watching us. I couldn't say how long he'd been there but I was sure by his expression he'd not been aware of our conversation. And as soon as my thoughts went back to Ruby's words, I found myself standing and walking to him. Maybe it was simply that my mind was overwhelmed, maybe it was that I'd been wanting to for so long now, but when I reached him, my arms slid beneath his and around his chest in an embrace that shocked him. He was probably wondering if I had regained her, the old Elfreda, but I didn't speak a word, only held him as his arms finally relaxed around me in return.

My eyes were closed but I heard Ruby slip by us and close the door behind her.

Chevelle's arms lowered to my waist as he asked in a uneven voice, "What is it, Freya?"

I raised my head from his chest to look into his eyes and had to stop myself from thinking of how blue. I leaned forward and pressed my lips lightly to his throat. He pulled me closer and I automatically lifted to my toes to find his lips for a soft, slow kiss. And though our kiss deepened, he was reserved, unsure. But I could feel that he wanted me, so I pressed harder against him, urging him to respond.

I knew the moment his restraint broke. My body was overcome with such force that I lost track of my surroundings, aware of only him. Tremors washed through me and I could not seem to get close enough to him, a deep, compelling need and pleasure at each touch, each thought, each breath besieged me.

The coupling was indescribable, so intense and consuming I'd no idea if it had been moments or hours or days.

I lay sleepily in his arms as he placed gentle kisses on my cheek, my neck, my ear...

It must have been the kiss, which brought my full and complete concentration to the place his lips were touching, that caused my dreams to slip back to the deepest depths of my memories. My ears, rounded as those of my father's, figured prominently as several of my childhood memories played out in my dreams. They were not unpleasant, though that, too, could have been influenced by my mood as I'd drifted to sleep. Even those of Asher were calm and lacked any form of fear. I recalled him at the battle, his mouth moving silently as he stood passively by, watching. And he was other places, too, whispering chants, focused on the fallen, focused on me. He seemed to grow bigger in each new setting and I nearly laughed at the vision. And then the dreams progressed to include Chevelle and, even in my unconscious state, I was interested in seeing the "new" details that had been previously unknown to me.

So, I was irritated when Ruby's sharp voice woke me, stealing the images away. "Wake up, Freya," she urged as she jerked the blankets down.

I sat up suddenly, mortified at what she'd see. But I was dressed. I looked beside me, Chevelle was gone.

Ruby was oblivious to my horror. "The boys are meeting downstairs," she said casually, "with any luck, we'll be leaving shortly after."