“When I saw the debtors leashed in his hall, I vowed upon my blood to see him dead.”
A dry laugh broke from him. “You shouldn’t have been so hasty.”
Perhaps not. But she couldn’t regret it. Instead she tried to imagine a young boy marching into that hall each day, determined to destroy a warlord who only viewed his attempts as entertainment.
And failing each time. “You lost heart, too?”
“No. I realized that I couldn’t succeed alone. So I left Blackmoor and hired out my sword until I’d earned enough to pay for my own soldiers. I returned with them five years ago.”
She’d known he was an honorable warrior. Now her admiration knew no end. “Where are your men?”
Grim memory hardened his eyes when he looked to her again. “We came upon the demon tusker. Those who weren’t killed then were later killed by Barin.”
“But not you.”
“I still amuse him.”
That couldn’t be the only reason. Men like Barin never took offenses against them lightly. No matter how Kavik had amused him as a boy, hiring an army of mercenaries to challenge his rule should have ended in Kavik’s torture or death. Instead the warlord hurt anyone who helped Kavik—and although that must be torture of a sort for Kavik, why did Barin bother?
“But why does it amuse him to hurt you? He doesn’t even hurt you, he hurts others. You wouldn’t even take water from Telani. And I didn’t expect you to take the gelding.”
Though now that she thought of it, a sharp pang struck her chest. She wasn’t afraid of the warlord, but Kavik’s refusing her help and warning her away from Barin had mattered. Did he not care anymore whether Barin tried to hurt her?
His expression had iced over again. “You’re on a quest to bring me to him on a leash. You’re the last person he would harm now.”
The ache in her chest eased. So he’d accepted the gelding because he thought she was safe. “But why you? Even if he was amused by a boy, why single you out in such a way?”
Mouth flat, he looked to her, then to Shim. “Tell me how you tamed him.”
Caught unawares by the change of topic, she only stared stupidly back at him—until Shim seemed to realize Kavik was talking about him. The stallion’s head shot up, and he reared toward the warrior, trumpeting an outraged neigh. The black gelding balked and shied. Kavik rode out his mount’s fright smoothly, the heavy muscles of his thighs tightening on the horse’s sides, his big hands easy on the reins.
“Shim isn’t tamed,” Mala snapped. She smoothed her palm down the stallion’s tense neck. Shim was snorting air like a bellows. “He’s my friend and my companion.”
“You ride him.”
And now he trembled with rage beneath her. Was Kavik trying to anger Shim so much that the stallion would attack him? Even now, Shim probably only held back because he might injure the gelding. Fortunately, Mala had traveled with the stallion long enough to know exactly how to deflect his anger. She leaned over to scratch his shoulder, just where she knew he liked it, and fondly teased him, “Because he’s weak-minded and easily led by his stomach.”
Laughing, she rode through the stiff-legged hop and buck that was the stallion’s response.
Kavik tensed and reached for her, then seemed to realize she wasn’t going to be tossed. He frowned at Shim, then his gaze went to Mala’s hands when she let go of the stallion’s mane. “No bridle or reins?”
“Of course not.” Mala didn’t know if Shim would kill her if she ever tried to put a bit in his mouth, but he’d certainly see it as a betrayal. Losing his trust could never be worth having the security of reins. She scratched his neck again. “We came across each other in the highlands west of Krimathe shortly after I set out on my quest. I told him he was beautiful, and that I thought he would enjoy traveling with me, because there’d be bandits to kill. I assumed that he disliked humans, just as so many others born of Hanan’s seed do.”
Shim snorted again, as if to say that “disliked” wasn’t a strong enough word.
Kavik smiled faintly. “But not you?”
“He did then. He blew air at me and walked on.”
“What did you do?”
She bit her lip, but still couldn’t stop her grin. “I followed him through the highlands until he gave in.”
Kavik said flatly, “I did not give in.”
“I know.” Instead he’d filled himself with iron. “I didn’t even ride him at first—I had another horse. But we were fording a river and a paddle-serpent stung my leg.” She pushed down the top of her boot to show Kavik the veiny scar that burst like a pale star against her brown skin. “I thought Shim would abandon me then, but he carried me to the nearest village, and we found a healer there. After that, he let me ride him, but only because he realized how much faster we travel when I do. No other mount matches his speed.”
He nodded. “You came upon us at the maze faster than any other I’ve seen.”
“That is Shim’s gift.” She rubbed his neck. “So you see he is not tamed. Not as other horses are—and not as humans think of it. If he ever was, I would fight to the end of my life to free him.”
His hard gaze found hers again. “Even if Vela had made your task breaking him to a bridle and bit, instead?”
In truth, she didn’t know. Because it didn’t have to be force; if so much depended on his taking a bit, Shim might willingly submit.
But it mattered not. “It isn’t the same, warrior. The taming is not what you think. There will be no collars or leashes. I would never be so cruel to anyone. So I have faith that Vela won’t ask it of me.”
Kavik didn’t look as convinced.
MALA’S stomach was grumbling when they stopped for the night in the shadow of the mountains.
“I’ll cook,” she told Kavik, and was glad when he didn’t argue. They’d only caught a few snakes and lizards that day, and she suspected by the meager amount of his possessions that he typically shoved a blade through their stomachs and roasted them.
Though no longer raining, the ground was sodden and the horses soaked. Mala tended to the animals while Kavik built the fire, then wished she hadn’t sent them to graze so quickly when a fat crescent moon shone through thin clouds, shedding weak light over the valley below and the ribbon of muddied road winding through it.
“Is that a village?” A ring of shadows lay in the distance—if she wasn’t mistaken, that was a village wall. “Should I have Shim herd the horses back this way? Perhaps we can find an inn.”
“We can’t.”
She glanced back. Their tinder was dry and had started well, but the peat he’d added to the flames was slightly damp. The fuel smoldered, the thick smoke obscuring Kavik’s face, but she couldn’t mistake the bleakness of his reply.
“You patronized an inn in Perca. An innkeeper has to take you in. Surely Barin doesn’t punish them for it?”
“He already did. All of them. There’s no village there anymore. He razed it to the ground.”
Stomach tightening, she looked across the distance again. “Why?”
“We aren’t far from where my men and I fought the demon tusker. Most of us were injured. The villagers took us in. They tended to us. And they all died for it.”
The tension in her gut rolled into a sick ball. He didn’t glance up when she crouched next to him, his gaze fixed on the tiny, flickering flames beneath the heavy peat. She studied his strong profile, remembering the matted tangle of his hair, his long beard. That hadn’t just been because he’d been doused with revenant blood. Unable to abandon the people in this cursed land, and unable to reside among them, he’d chosen to live like this instead. Not just while on the road, as Mala did. But all the time, except for when he escorted others to the bridge.
“So you became the beast of Blackmoor,” she said. And she’d been sent to tame him.
As if reminded by the name, he finally glanced at her. “I did.”