Oh... By the abyss, he didn't mean...
"Marriage?" Ulric considered. "Yes, I suppose that would work. My son is already engaged, but I have a daughter your age."
That bothered me far more than it should have.
The warlord laughed. "Oh, you don't want her to marry me. My wife will become a Valkyr and lead women to war. It would be far safer for this girl if she were to wed someone else. I had been thinking of my sister for your son — my brother is too young for a wife."
I resisted the urge to sigh in relief. Damned treacherous hormones, overruling all my inhibitions. This lord's daughter wouldn't die by my hand, then.
Fendur chuckled. "I volunteer."
"Not you. You're not a relative of mine, so you'll have to find your own wife," Temris said, rolling his eyes. He turned back to Ulric. "I do have a cousin. He has a swathe of land and a title of his own. The girl will be taken care of, on my honour."
Oh, Anlai would love this. He didn't seem the type to settle down with a single woman and start a family. But he would do it if Temris asked him to, I knew that much. He might rage and rant about it, but he would do it in the end.
"She had better be," Ulric warned. "Very well. Melia shall wed this cousin of yours. I will have her ready to leave with you tomorrow. But mark my words — if any harm comes to her, the alliance is off."
"Understood," Temris agreed. "Would you like to bloodswear, or is my word enough?"
In answer, the lord picked up an eating knife and made a short slice across his palm. He winced horribly, his hand visibly shaking. All three of us pretended not to notice. Temris made the same cut over an existing scar without so much as blinking. I wondered briefly if that was the mark from bloodswearing with his Iyrak. Fendur and Colloe both had similar scars.
The two men clasped hands, mixing their blood. This tradition was one of the few that all of Cambria shared. Once you had sworn by blood, there was no going back. Anyone who broke their oath was branded as an outcast and forsaken.
Temris went first. "I swear to kill the king and free Cambria from his rule or die trying. I swear to protect your daughter from harm and see that she is happy. My cousin, Anlai Bladeborn, will wed her and provide for her."
Ulric grimaced. "I swear to play my part in your rebellion. Although, if you should fail, this did not happen. My daughter would be an unwilling hostage, and I acted only to protect her."
I wanted to slap him for that. It was fine for us to risk everything, as long as he was okay. It annoyed me that should this fail, he would probably kneel to the king to save his own skin. Then again, Temris had done the same. A kneeling man could rise to his feet again, but a dead man stayed down.
Temris simply nodded. "It is done."
Lord Ulric didn't bother to stay long after that. The meal was eaten in sullen silence, as the diners brooded over what had just occurred. The north and south were linked by blood now. There wasn't any possibility of second thoughts. We would stand against the throne and hope we could keep our footing.
Once he excused himself, Temris helped me back to bed. While I wriggled around, trying to get comfortable, he tugged off his tunic and claimed the other side of the bed. That served suitably to keep me awake.
"What are you doing?" I hissed.
He shrugged at me, a faint smile on his lips. "Sleeping shirtless is more comfortable."
I prodded him with a cold toe. "You wore your tunic in the tent."
"Yes, to avoid freezing to death. It's warmer in here."
"I don't care. If I can't sleep without my shirt, you can't either," I informed him.
Fendur shuffled in place uncomfortably, probably wishing he was anywhere else. He was still sat up at the table, finishing off the leftover food.
Temris smirked. "By all means, start stripping. I don't mind."
I tried to hit him for that. He just caught my wrists and pulled me into a warm body. I tried to avoid staring at the bare, tanned skin that covered solid muscle. On his side, only the faint imprint of a bruise revealed where his injury was healing. My tackle wouldn't have any permanent consequences, except maybe a very faint scar.
The Iyrak coughed loudly at our proximity. "None of that, please. I'm on guard duty tonight, and I don't want to witness anything traumatising."
"You're not staying up all night," Temris scoffed. "Bar the door and put your bedroll in front of it. We'll be safe enough. And before you argue, that's an order."
Fendur laughed. "You should know by now that I don't have a problem arguing with orders, Ragnyr, but just this once, I think you may have had a sensible idea. I don't want to fall asleep on my horse."
He dragged his unused bed over the door and got ready to sleep. I rolled over so I was lying half on top of Temris, with my back against his chest. I was too tired to even shove him away, but he let me move enough to get comfortable. One arm was draped around my shoulders, the other ended up on my hip. That was how I fell asleep, and that was how I woke.
I opened my eyes to the first few rays of sunshine streaming in the windows. Fendur was happily snoring, stretched out in the doorway. Temris, on the other hand, sparked to alertness the instant I moved. We were pressed up against each other, almost compromisingly close. He yawned lazily, grinning down at me.
"Alright there, little one?"
I pushed myself into a sitting position so I could look down at him. "You are in a good mood."
"Of course I am. I've been lying next to you all night."
I put a finger against his lips, giving him a teasing smile. "Quiet, chirpy. You'll wake Fendur."
"Good. He can fetch breakfast while I lie in," Temris said. In response, I wriggled out of his arms and shoved him forcefully off the bed. It was like pushing a boulder, but as he wasn't trying to stop me, it worked eventually. He fell onto the stone floor with a groan.
"You get the breakfast," I told him.
Temris rolled onto his feet and glowered at me. "You must be the first slave ever to order me around."
"Pulling rank on me?" I narrowed my eyes. "That's low."
He threw up his hands. "Hey — I'm going, aren't I?"
"Not fast enough," I retorted, throwing a pillow at him.
Temris just caught it, laughing. "You're vicious, you know that? Not even Anlai has tried pushing me off a bed."
"Speaking of your cousin," I said darkly. "How is he going to take to married life?"
Temris was heaping two plates with cold leftovers. "Badly, I would imagine."
"Is that how it works in the north? You can just marry off your family members, no questions asked or room for argument?" I inquired as he handed me my breakfast. It wasn't half as good cold, but you wouldn't catch me complaining.
He looked incredulous. "Gods, no. He's not thrilled, but he knows it's necessary. Anlai was one of the masterminds behind this. He even went as far as asking some locals what Melia looks like."
So he had known all along that Ulric only had a daughter available. It had been clever of him not to admit it to the lord himself. People were rarely accommodating when they felt like pieces on a board.
"Looks like," I sighed. "Not her personality, or anything like that. Just whether she's pretty. It's both predictable and sad at the same time."
Temris shrugged. "If she's stupid or shallow, he can simply avoid her company for the rest of his life, but he would still have to bed her to get legitimate children. In fact, bedding is the only part of marriage that is compulsory."
I simply stared at him for a while, completely stunned. "I don't even know what to say to that."
"I think your facial expression says it all. Arranged marriages aren't fair on anyone, it's true. But if he cared about his wife's temperament, he would marry for love. It's Melia I pity. I'm willing to bet her father won't give her a choice in the matter."
"Uh ... Ragnyr, I wouldn't feel too sorry for her if I were you." Fendur was on his feet, completely unnoticed by me. He was staring out of the window with an expression of mild incredulity.
I whipped my head around to witness a spectacle for the ages. A girl was sat on a stable roof, throwing horse dung at someone who looked suspiciously like Lord Ulric. A pack of guardsmen were laughing their asses off a few paces away and the stable hands were actually applauding her. Apparently, she hadn't taken the news of her engagement all too well.
"They'll be perfect for each other," I observed dryly.
Temris's jaw hung slightly open. It was the closest to surprised I had ever seen him.
"That's not Melia," he said finally. "She's too young."
Sure enough, there was another woman in the courtyard who looked to be sobbing. She was far closer to Anlai's age and very distraught. So that probably made the dung-thrower an unhappy younger sister. It was a pity, because those two really would have been a perfect match.
"We had better go," Fendur pointed out. "Bevan's going to burn the village if we're not back by midday."
"That does seem a tad ungrateful," Temris agreed.
They moved quickly, gathering up discarded possessions and cleaning up after themselves with brutal efficiency. I watched from the bed, grateful for my injury for once. It was satisfying watching other people work. Once the room was completely clear, I slung an arm over each of their shoulders and limped into the courtyard with warriors for crutches.
The crying girl had stopped crying by the time we reached Nightmare. He had been saddled and groomed, and he was waiting alongside a palomino whom I assumed belonged to Melia. Fendur would have to walk back to his horse.
I got lifted onto Nightmare's back. Temris sat behind me as usual, but this time I was allowed to hold the reins. The stallion was on bad behaviour — kicking and dropping his head every few seconds. The bride-to-be mounted her own horse, staring at Nightmare with something between fear and awe.
She was very pretty, so I supposed Anlai would be happy. Golden brown hair, tan skin and beautiful Sapphirean eyes. There was acceptance on her face now. She had dried her eyes and set her shoulders as soon as she saw us.
The dung-thrower was shedding angry tears. Her father had managed to remove her from the roof and stood with her firmly tucked under one arm. This could easily be the last time they ever saw Melia. The north was a long, long way away.
As the gates screeched open, Nightmare tossed his head. He was chewing at the bit, more than grateful to accept the extra rein when I could finally let him walk. He had never done this with Temris, not at all. Then again, I had heard he usually threw his riders, so he must like me more than most people, just less than his master.
Melia followed at a slower pace without a single backwards glance, not looking entirely comfortable on horseback. She was leaving everyone she had ever known behind for a new life with savages. At least, I'm sure that's what she thought about the northerners. I couldn't bring myself to feel sorry for her. Not when her father and the dung-thrower were still alive. Not when there was no chain around her neck.
"I'm trusting you, warlord," Lord Ulric called after us.
"I'll look after her," Temris shouted over his shoulder. "I swore it."
It was a desperate man who sold his daughter to strangers for a hope. Temris was his last chance at keeping everything he owned. Even if Ulric knelt to the king, he would still be removed from power. I was sure that would have happened to Temris as well if the northerners weren't so strict about succession. The new warlord would have had to defeat him in single combat, and I didn't think the king had wanted to waste his best fighters trying.