Sacrifice (The Snow Queen #2)(47)
Farrin stood outside one of the two windows in a defensive stance. A breeze stirred his hair—which revealed more of its rich brown undertones in the late afternoon sunlight—and his head tilted as he scrutinized the street.
Judging by the way he’s standing, he has his sword unsheathed and positioned in front of him.
“He’s been there every day ever since General Halvor deposited you here,” Phile said. Her silent entrance startled Rakel.
“I think he would have stood there all night, too, if Oskar didn’t brow beat him into sleeping. He takes his oaths very seriously, that one does. Here.” Phile offered her a glass of water. “You always sound like a sick camel when you first wake up.”
“Excuse me?” Rakel asked after she took a few sips. She grimaced—her voice was dry and scratchy.
“You see? Just let your teeth go, wander around dressed in sand-colored furs, and you’ve got the perfect disguise.” Phile laughed.
Rakel scowled at her friend and drank more water.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m hurting,” Rakel admitted. “Touching Tenebris’s magic isn’t…pleasant. I have no physical wounds, but I feel mentally bruised—like my mind was shaved with a scythe.”
“How bad is it?” Phile asked.
Rakel tipped her head as she tried to judge the pain. “Not terrible. It’s more like a partially healed wound. I expect I will be fine in a day or two.” She finished her water. “What happened while I slept?”
“It’s been better than expected. It was a little dicey for a few days—could have cut a king’s beard with the tension of the camp—but Steinar did his best to welcome Farrin and his troops. And even though Halvor has been hesitant, that tactical mind of his has been skipping with glee,” Phile said.
“He’s pleased with the new recruits?”
“Pleased is a vast understatement. He’s had the entire camp debriefed on their abilities, and he ordered special training so our magic users could learn how to fight with theirs. He and Farrin’s second-in-command, Bunny, have been running practices.” Phile threw Foedus into the air, caught it by its ugly hilt, and then used it to slice a piece of bread from a loaf. Rakel wrinkled her nose—not tempted due to her knowledge of the various things Phile used Foedus for—but gratefully took the roll and goat cheese Phile offered her instead.
“I suspect General Halvor is getting ready to split the magic users up into small squads. We assigned partners previously, but with twenty-four magic users added to our roster, he now has the actual numbers to assign them to missions.”
“Any news of Tenebris?” Rakel asked.
Phile plopped down on a chair and leaned back so it balanced on two legs. “He’s been quiet. That battle cost him quite a bit of trouble. He had higher losses, and a few of the mercenary groups who reported to Farrin have left his services. The others are not happy with his disregard for their lives.”
“He hasn’t attacked?” Rakel asked.
Phile reached forward and slid a fluffy pillow behind Rakel so she could lean back. “No.”
Rakel sagged with relief. “Good.”
“Were you that worried?” Phile balanced Foedus on a fingertip. “You whacked him a good one with that final attack of yours. You hit Sunnira. Farrin said she was the best with healing magic in their camp, and their second best came to our side with him.”
“Sunnira,” Rakel said, recalling the name with dislike.
“The woman on my to-be-tortured list for hitting you with that curse in Ostfold, yes,” Phile said.
Rakel nodded and rubbed her forehead. I was upset about something right when I passed out…what was it?
“You did well, Little Wolf. I don’t think anyone expected you to actually convince Farrin—well, besides me that is. Anyway, for certain no one dared to think Farrin’s underlings would come with you. That battle was a significant win.”
Rakel leaned back against the pillows. “I never considered their loyalty. It was a pleasant surprise.” She glanced at Farrin, still stationed outside her window.
“I’ll get you something more substantial to eat. Liv left a stew to simmer over our hearth; just give me a moment.” Phile popped out of her chair and disappeared into the back room.
Rakel watched her go and tried to follow the nagging thought that she was forgetting something. I remember I was having a hard time staying awake, even though I held my magic. What was it?
You are just like Tenebris.
The thought resurfaced like an ugly stain, making Rakel flinch as if she had been hit. No, I am the opposite! I bear no resemblance to him at all.
You have his power, the nasty voice whispered. And you wanted to kill him.
Rakel scoffed, but the protest died in her throat. She gripped her blankets with shaking fingers, remembered her all-consuming rage when Tenebris attacked Gerta and Kai. Even if only for a moment, I wanted him dead. “I—it was…even so, I won’t kill him. It has been my resolution from the start of this war. I will not kill!”
You manipulate just as he does.
She fiddled with the blankets. Was she that different? Hadn’t she lured Farrin to her side and won his loyalty because she offered him friendship—just as Tenebris had done when saving him from the gladiator pits?