Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles #1)(88)

“Romie was his name. He was the sweetest person you could ever meet. He didn’t care about my status. Or my duties. Or my future before we heard of the armies coming. He would have stayed away if I’d asked. He would have loved me from a distance—let me choose one with a similar Gift. We had planned to mate. Before I left my homeland, he was the only one I had ever been with. By choice. It wasn’t really our custom—before mating we all, especially the fighters, experimented. We needed to be sure of what we wanted before we pledged ourselves. But I never wanted anyone but him. He gave me the same courtesy. Not many others, especially men, would do that.”

Cayan sat quietly, not moving. Listening. Letting her purge.

“I’ve defied his trust several times along the road,” she continued sadly. “Most times out of loneliness. Sometimes for sport or fun. Sometimes because I hated him for what he did. For telling me he would be safe when really he had put himself up as a Sacrifice, knowing I couldn’t follow. And sometimes…I did it for information. Everything else can be forgiven, even hating him, but I whored myself out for information. I no longer deserve him. I am no longer the woman he loved.”

“Are you sure of that?”

“How can I be? I am destined to live. You keep saving me. Tending to me, feeding me, carrying me unconscious to aid. You should scorn me. Outcast me. Send me away for what you witnessed in that dungeon. Yet here you are, trying to get me to eat. Do you hate me, Cayan?”

“No, mesasha.”

“Will you tell me what that term means, now?” She’d asked him a few times since she’d heard it first, never hearing it from anyone else, but he had declined to answer. Said if she couldn’t figure it out by stealing his thoughts, then she was half dense. Though his tone was always light and joking, he hadn’t been smiling.

His eyes delving into hers, he slowly shook his head.

She sighed. “Well, I don’t want your help, anymore. I will not be returning with you. I will continue on toward the sea. I will probably have to whore myself out to get a boat, but I will. That is what I am, now.”

“You are being over-dramatic. You are not what you fear—with your Gift you wouldn’t need to use…anything else. Even still, you will make no more of your journey alone.”

“No? You are, what, going to hire a guide? Or you have realized my value, like that swine Xandre, the Being Supreme, and now you will keep me close so I can be your weapon? Or breed for you instead of him?”

“I know you need to make that trip. You will not do it alone.”

Shanti opened her wet eyes and looked at him. He was dirt stained and sweaty. His arms were bared, the great muscle, bronzed, shiny where the sun hit it. His eyes were deep and so, so blue. “What has given you the change of heart?”

“I have allies, Shanti. Many. Some will not head down the hard road, as I must, but many will. They will follow my lead. They will fight by our side. I need you. I need the people you hope to claim and bring back. I admit that, freely. But you need me. If we stay together we have a chance. If you leave, my people will surely die. The Inkna will probably come for us, first. Their masters are sure to follow if we aren’t destroyed. You need men and my power. I need the same of you. It can only work if we join forces.”

“I sure hope you aren’t going to talk about fate and divinity and all that crap. I’ve had enough of that with Sterling.”

“Sterling?”

“Yes, he’s pledged his sword, whatever that means. And his God, and the fates, and other things I didn’t understand.”

“It means he has vowed to protect you when you cannot protect yourself.”

“Oh. A second Chance. Well, my Chances tend to die, so thankfully he is more your man than he’ll ever be mine. But it would’ve been nice if he’d cut to the wick of it, instead of carrying on and on about the-Elders-can-only-be-sure.”

“Back to the subject at hand. In order to use you, I need you living. You need to eat and let Marc baby you.” Cayan was smiling. He had a lovely smile that always seemed to touch his eyes, making them twinkle like the surface of a rippling lake in the noon sun.

Shanti couldn’t find the humor, though. “I hurt, Cayan. A part of me died with Romie.”

“You need to heal. He died for a cause. You were forced to live for one. Don’t fail him or insult his memory with these thoughts. I don’t know much about love, but I think anyone would give you the same advice. If he truly loved you, he would have wanted you to regain your happiness. I’m sure he loved when you smiled.”

Shanti choked on a sob. Her chest felt like it was filled with rocks. “How did you know?”

“Because you have a beautiful smile.” Cayan looked deeply into her soul as he sat immobile, his heavy arms resting on his knees. “Rest. Eat. When you’re ready, we’ll spar. You can beat on me to ease your pain.”

“Let me have Jerrol. Please, Cayan. I’ll be discrete.”

“No. It’s not in me to allow it, and it would only torture you, anyway. Please do not ask again.”

He got up and moved away. He checked on a few of the men who were awake, laughing with one who had to get an arrow extracted from his leg. He knelt beside Sanders and put his hand on a bare arm. He moved to the other two and did the same. He probably determined that they were healing. Their brains were mending. The process would be quicker if Shanti were healthy. She hated to admit it, but Cayan had made a lot of sense. She needed to keep going. She had a job to do. If she did not see this thing to the end, her people would have died in vain. She could not let that happen.