Rise (The Order of the Krigers #1)(42)

“Let’s try one more time.” Releasing his hand, I grabbed his calf and pulled. His boot didn’t budge. Perhaps if I were positioned above him, instead of on his side, the angle would be more conducive to freeing him. Swinging my leg over to straddle him, I placed my hands below his knee, yanking upward.

Anders grunted, and his boot came free. I fell backward, landing on top of his stomach. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me in place so I didn’t topple to the rocky ground. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice right next to my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He slid his hands to my hips, and my heart hammered. We were too close. I nodded, and he released me.

Standing, I was unable to meet his brown eyes as I yelled up to Vidar, letting him know Anders was free. The vine rope dropped down.

Anders got to his feet and hobbled over. “Let’s attach this to you.”

“No, you first.” I grabbed the vines and handed them to him.

“You will not stay down here alone,” he said. “You will go first.”

“You’re the one who’s injured,” I argued. “And I’ll only be alone for a moment.”

“Will you two stop bickering like an old married couple?” Vidar yelled. “Kaia, grab hold, I’m pulling you up.”

These two men drove me nuts with their overprotectiveness. Anders wrapped the vines around my waist and securely tied them. I attempted to undo the knot, but he shouted to Vidar who immediately started hoisting me up.

“I’ll get you back for this!” I said to Anders.

He smiled. “I sincerely hope so.”

Vidar had lined the hole with large, green leaves so when he pulled me up, the vines didn’t fray or break. Once I was safely out, he threw the rope down to Anders. After he was out, we decided to head to the nearest cave for the night. Unfortunately, Anders’s ankle was sore and swollen. He had to wrap his arm around Vidar for support.

I led the way, careful to stay acutely aware of my hands. If there was any sort of pain, no matter how minor, I steered us in another direction in order to avoid potential danger. Once we reached the cave, I remained with Anders while Vidar left to gather firewood.

Anders slid to the ground and removed his boots. I handed him the water sack. When he was distracted drinking, I gently touched his ankle to see if it was broken.

“What are you doing?” he asked, yanking his foot away.

“Investigating.” I grabbed his foot and laid it on my lap. “Stay still so I don’t accidentally hurt you.”

He grunted but complied. I carefully removed his sock, exposing a very swollen and bruised ankle.

Vidar returned, dropping a large pile of branches on the ground. “How does it look?”

“I need catnip and sage.”

“Glad someone knows what they’re doing,” he replied. “I’ll be back as soon as I have them.” He ducked out of the cave.

“What do you know about catnip and sage?” Anders asked. “You’re from the city.”

His intense scrutiny made me uncomfortable. “Catnip reduces swelling and sage reduces inflammation. I’ve tended to my father’s wounds more than once.” Since Papa was a guard in the mines, he often came home with a swollen eye or bruised ribs from a scuffle.

Anders’s face remained unreadable. Reaching for his sack, I pulled out a blanket, folded it in half, and shoved it under his ankle so his foot was propped up. “Do you need anything else?”

“No. You’ve already done more than enough.”

“Friends help friends.” I shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have many friends.”

“Me neither,” I whispered, fidgeting with the end of my sleeve.

“When I was a slave, I had friends.” Anders’s voice was soft, barely audible. I remained quiet, hoping he’d share more about his childhood. “One day, my best friend’s shoes were stolen. He saw a fellow slave wearing them, and when he asked for them back, the kid started punching my friend. I jumped in and defended him. We got the shoes back.” A ghost of a smile flitted across his face.

“Unfortunately, our fight had been witnessed by my master who knew the value of someone with my skills. He sold me later that day to an assassin. I never saw my friend, or my family, again. All because I helped someone.

“The assassin took me far away. I spent years training, honing my skills, learning hundreds of ways to kill or maim a man in less than twenty seconds. I studied poisons, weapons, and human anatomy. My value lay in my ability to kill from the shadows, unseen. I was taught to never trust anyone. And that is what has kept me alive.” He leaned his head back against the wall of the cave.

“My father taught me the same thing,” I whispered. “About not trusting anyone.” I didn’t realize how much we had in common. “But you trust Vidar.”

“I do.”

“And I trust you.” The weight of my words hung heavy in the air. He tilted his head, and our eyes met. My heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the right words.

Vidar entered, and I jerked back, away from Anders.

“I have the items you requested,” Vidar said. He handed them to me, and I quickly got to work. If he noticed the awkward tension between Anders and me, he had the decency not to say anything.