Of Gods and Warriors ✓

Chapter 46

"By the Gods," said a familiar voice he'd been yearning to hear, although it sounded congested as though its owner had a cold. "You sleep like a damn corpse, Sarge."

"That's because I am one." The words seemed to roll off his tongue of their own accord, before he could discern whether this was a continuation of his dream-- a sweet conclusion to a brain-racking nightmare.

A soft laugh. "Now I'm certain I haven't woken the wrong fellow in the dark. It's really you."

Low firelight painted her face a warm gold, her hair a burnished red. Linder was not dreaming. It's really her.

Relief flooded his heart, the events of the nightmare dissolving into the soft candle light.

I'm fine, he reminded himself.

He had tracked down the assassin, he had made peace with Karles, and all Brittlerock was not in disarray because of his absence. But most importantly, Farren was here.

Farren was here, and he cared little for anything else-- even becoming a Royal Guard. It was a distant dream now, one that he no longer wished to achieve. But his heart still hammered from the aftermath of the dream, his skin still cold and clammy, and none of it escaped her notice. A questioning look crossed her face. "Nightmares?"

Many of them. Enough to keep me afeard of sleep. The dream of joining the Royal Guards-- he'd crumpled it up and tossed into an imaginary fireplace long past.

Yet the visions wouldn't leave him alone, emerging their ugly heads every now and then, especially when he was weighed down by stress.

But Linder was not ready to tell her everything just yet. "Of a sort."

She pried no further, and gave his hand a squeeze. "You'll be okay." A rare moment of hesitation. “I'm...here.”

"But not for long, are you?"

To that, she had no answer.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes so he could see her better. "Always on the run and leaping into trouble. Gods, you're impossible to pin down."

He registered little of what she said next, her words tangling together in a soothing melody. A tantalizing fragrance of what seemed like perfumed soap rose from her, rather odd for someone who had been roughing it in the wilderness for days. But Linder, inebriated from the lingering effect of healing medicines, cared little for mundane things such as logic now. Even though it did occur to him she had taken a great risk in sneaking in here, his now brazen mind flicked the worry away with a defiant finger.

The mages would dare break through the doors and capture her?

Let them come and see if they can take her from my arms.

When Farren's grip on his hand began to fall away, he clasped it tighter, clinging onto the warmth enough to thaw a frozen lake. He pulled her close, and a soft gasp escaped her lips. He adored the look of surprise on her face.

"Gods above," he whispered, "I turn my back for one moment and there you are, getting yourself declared a war criminal."

She snorted. "Could say the same about you. Barely a minute into battle without me and you get stabbed by three different people."

"Excuse you, my plan was perfect. It was only the last step where I faltered."

"And nearly got yourself killed. Draedona take you and your perfect plan!"

"You have to stop using that curse, dear Corporal. Sweet Mother hears you sometimes."

"This plan of yours wouldn't have been near-fatal if you didn't take it up all on yourself to catch the culprit. You wouldn't be in this condition, were me and Gray there with you that day."