During the day, she transcribed notes for Jax as he helped manage half the army. He and Erion had been left in command alongside a grizzled old major whom Vhalla had yet to interact with. There were no objections from the majors toward their current commanders in the stead of the Imperial family. The only time questions arose was from trying to decipher Jax’s notes, and thus Vhalla had found an immediate use.
The Black Legion’s Head Major’s penmanship was laughable, and the majors were grateful for Vhalla’s cleaner lines and tidier letters in their ledgers and records. The appreciation was mutual, as it gave Vhalla the opportunity to learn about the siege and the army in a way she never had before. Her prior readings on military tactics and methodologies began to make more sense when given the framework of a real life situation. Vhalla saw how troops were managed on the perimeter. She sat quietly and let the men and women talk about rationing and sending hunting parties into the surrounding woods. She also began to see the lines between theory and actuality. Vhalla repeated in her head the information she gleaned, quickly committing it to memory and filing it away for later use.
Her days were quite full, which only made the empty nights harder. Without distractions her mind began to wander. The silence seemed to stretch into eternity and seeped into her Bond with Aldrik, making her question if it was finally beginning to waver. Nothing about the Channel between her and Aldrik felt as it had been. Like the dormant earth in winter, she had no dreams of his memories and no heartbeat in her ears other than her own.
Vhalla prayed that it was the distance and his weakness taking their toll. But she didn’t know for certain. Not knowing, combined with the emptiness, threatened to drive her mad.
On her fourth day, she’d indulged in a mid-day sleep, only to be woken by trumpets in the late evening. It couldn’t be Aldrik returning, she reasoned. At the earliest, he’d be ten more days, so Vhalla rolled over and pulled the blankets over her head. She felt amazing with all the rest and proper eating, but Vhalla remained determined. The seven days Elecia had promised were almost up and somewhere on the far edge of her consciousness was an exhausted wavering of magic.
The door opened and Vhalla turned groggily, not expecting the man who entered.
“Well, I can’t recall the last time I caught a woman in my brother’s bed.” Baldair laughed summer into her frozen world.
She sat quickly, letting the sound wash over her. Vhalla stared in shock at the golden-haired prince. She and Prince Baldair hadn’t had the most stable or conventional of relationships, but he had given her and Aldrik one last night before they entered the North—before they were parted, potentially forever. The younger prince likely had no idea the place he had earned in Vhalla’s heart with that.
“Baldair,” Vhalla breathed, a sigh of relief. The sight of him was warm familiarity. Vhalla never thought she’d say it, or even think it, but Prince Baldair was the most comforting thing she’d seen in weeks.
“I hardly expected to find you here,” he chuckled. “I imagine it’s quite the story.”
Vhalla frowned. He was carrying on as though there was some wild tale to her presence that they would share and laugh at over a hearty drink. Her eyes darted to where Jax hovered in the doorframe. “You didn’t tell him?”
“The second I told him you were here he asked to come see you,” Jax explained.
Vhalla looked back at the younger prince, dread filling her. Why was she to be the one to bear this news? “Baldair,” she started slowly.
“What?” The broad-shouldered man glanced between her and Jax.
“I tried to save him.” The words brought a bundle of emotion with them that Vhalla choked on momentarily. “I tried, and I failed.”
“Mother, woman, you’re scaring me.” Baldair sat heavily on the bed and scooped up her hands in his. Vhalla didn’t know who he was comforting, but it seemed to go both ways. “What are you talking about?”
“Aldrik’s dying.”
The words slapped Baldair across the face, and his head jerked toward Jax. “What is she—”
“She’s being dramatic.” Vhalla scowled at Jax’s words. The man raised his eyebrows. “You somehow have more insight than I even though we’ve been side-by-side for days?”
Vhalla opened her mouth and thought better of telling him exactly what and how she knew.
“But,” the Westerner relented with a sigh, “things aren’t good.” He produced some familiar blood-stained papers from the inner breast pocket of the tired military jacket he wore and handed them to Baldair.
Vhalla focused on a corner of the room, unable to bear Jax’s frustrating nature or Baldair’s expressions as he read through the accounts from Major Reale and Elecia. The prince sighed softly and relaxed his grip on the letters. “Vhalla?” Baldair asked. He had a lost and fearful look that matched her heart perfectly. “Did you really do all this?”
“Did what?” She shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Baldair’s stare.
“You jumped from the Pass and ran through the North, alone?”
“Someone had to.” The feat didn’t seem nearly worth all the amazement in Baldair’s eyes—of course she would do those things.
“Has there been any word from the host or riders?” Baldair asked Jax.
The head major shook his head. “None from the riders ... the host marches forward as planned.”
Baldair stood, handing the papers back to Jax. “Aldrik is strong, and I know that he will not let himself die now. Not when he finally has a reason to truly live again. That brother of mine is likely just trying to get out of marching the rest of the way here.” Baldair’s laugh was forced.
“But for the here and now, food and company will do us all some good.” The golden prince extended a calloused hand to her, and Vhalla took it. The prince’s strength was often touted as being physical. But Vhalla was beginning to learn that the man known for breaking hearts seemed to have a rather large one of his own.
Baldair paused at the door. “Ah, it’s Serien still, right?”
“For now. I thought it safer that way,” Jax confirmed. “Best not to let the camp rumors start until we have the Emperor’s input on them.”
“What happened to your Windwalker?” Vhalla asked as they left the room.
“She was killed.” Baldair glanced at her, and Vhalla was surprised to find a protective edge to his manner.
“The Emperor’s was also,” she reported.
“Aldrik’s?”
“Not as of when I left.” Vhalla shook her head.
“If he was putting on a show, he was likely protecting her as he would have you,” Baldair thought aloud. They rounded the corner for the main room. “Sorry to keep you waiting, friends!” There was laughter and japes at Baldair’s expense for being held up with a mystery woman as he started for a table with his Golden Guard. The room was filled with more majors and soldiers, all seeming to celebrate the return of the favored prince. Jax and Baldair were halfway to a table before they realized she was not walking with them.
Her eyes were affixed upon an Eastern face and a rainbow of emotion burst into color within the dark hollow of Vhalla’s chest. Daniel stood slowly, staring at her in shock. Vhalla remembered the last time she’d seen him, the weeks they’d spent together the last time she had been Serien. It brought the mask of the other woman back to her in a rush and all the conflicted feelings along with it.
The room instantly noticed the odd exchange, adding their glances and whisperers beneath the conversation that politely continued on. Daniel rounded the table in a daze, his focus only on her as if she was the last thing on the earth. Vhalla swallowed. She didn’t know what he saw—who he saw in her.