C H A P T E R T W E NT Y-T WO
t had been a month since Thea’s first day as a shieldbearer, and with her own training in addition toI the required load, she’d hardly seen Wren. But when her sister tracked her down in the hour before dawn in the armoury, she knew something had changed. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you!’ Wren practically shouted. Despite the cold and the ungodly hour, she was beaming. ‘I’ve been made Farissa’s apprentice! A formal apprentice of the alchemy arts, Thea!’ Thea blinked for a moment and then dropped the blade she was sharpening. She launched herself at her sister. ‘That’s amazing, Wren. I knew it would be you! You’re the best there is.’ ‘You’re truly pleased for me?’ Thea pulled back. ‘What? Of course I’m pleased for you. This is your dream.’
‘I know, I just…’ ‘Just what?’ ‘Well, I wasn’t sure you’d be entirely happy.’ ‘Why in the realms would I not be?’ ‘I… It doesn’t matter.’ Wren grinned. ‘Come and see my new quarters! I get rooms all to myself, can you believe it?’ Thea hardly had any choice in the matter. Wren was all but dragging her back to the fortress.
Somewhat dazed, Thea allowed Wren to pull her through the passageways to the upper levels towards the masters’ and commanders’ residences. ‘You stay up here?’ ‘I have to be close to Farissa. I have the room next to hers.’ At last they came to her door and Wren opened it, proudly motioning for Thea to step inside. ‘How long have you been here?’ Thea asked, frowning as she took in the obscene amount of clutter. Her sister had always had a tendency to be messy, but this was a whole new extreme. There were plants on nearly every surface, glass vials balanced precariously on uneven edges. ‘Two days.’ Thea baulked. ‘Two days? And it looks like this?’ ‘It’s organised chaos, I’ll have you know, Althea. I know where everything is.’ ‘Gods help anyone else who needs to find something, though,’ Thea replied with a laugh. ‘But no one would,’ Wren said gleefully. ‘It’s my room. My very own.’ Thea knew what that meant. In all the years they’d lived at Thezmarr, neither of them had ever had
a space of her own. So Thea reached out and squeezed her sister’s shoulder. ‘Congratulations, Wren.
You deserve it.’ ‘Thank you.’ Thea waited a beat. ‘Did they give you a spare key?’ Wren rounded on her. ‘Not a chance, Thea. I only just got rid of you.’ Thea laughed. ‘I was only joking… Mostly. You try living with twelve men in your room. They’re loud. They stink. And they constantly brag about sleeping with women they’ve clearly never spoken
to.’
‘Sounds charming.’ ‘You have no idea.’ ‘You should come and visit more, Thea,’ Wren said suddenly. ‘Sam and Ida miss you. And you’ve missed a lot in our alchemy shifts. They’re throwing me a little party this afternoon to celebrate. You should come.’ ‘I can’t.’ Thea gave a heavy sigh. ‘I don’t have time, Wren. Not if I want to be —’ ‘A Thezmarrian warrior. A Warsword,’ Wren cut her off sharply. ‘We know. We know how important it is to you. But it’s not the only thing that’s important.’ Thea’s hand flew to her fate stone. ‘It is to me —’ She regretted her choice of words as soon as they left her mouth, but she couldn’t take them back.
Wren’s expression hardened. ‘When was the last time I asked anything of you, Thea? When was the last time you did anything for someone other than yourself?’ ‘It’s just a party, Wren…’ ‘But it’s not just a party. It’s about supporting me, your sister. It’s about acknowledging that I’ve achieved something I’ve been aiming for for years. How would you feel if you became a Warsword
and no one gave a shit?’ ‘It’s not the same.’ ‘Not the same? You mean that being an alchemist isn’t as worthy as being a Warsword? That your dreams are bigger and better than the rest of ours?’ ‘I didn’t mean —’ ‘Yes, you did. And it’s fine. If you’re so determined to become a Warsword, you go do that, Thea.
But when you’ve cheated death and you want someone to cheer for your victories, don’t be surprised if you turn around to find yourself alone.’ ‘Wren…’ ‘You have no idea, Thea. No idea what I do for us, for you. And here you are, with your Warsword complex, thinking you’re so much better. Do you know where you’d be without me? Do you know what would happen —’ ‘Wren, please.’ A sour taste filled Thea’s mouth. She had never seen her sister like this: furious to the point of tears, almost unhinged. What was she talking about? Was it that stunt with the Widow’s Ash and Seb? Was it about covering for her with Audra and Farissa? Thea’s heart was sinking. This was not how this conversation was meant to go. She wanted to celebrate Wren’s achievements, she just… Wren was shaking her head, cheeks flushed in anger. ‘I can’t stand the sight of you,’ she spat. ‘Get out. I have silly potions and teapots to make.’
‘I didn’t say —’ ‘Out.’ Head hung, stomach in knots, Thea left Wren’s new room to find Dax waiting for her. But not even
the dog’s stoic presence padding beside her could pull her from her dark mood, for she had the feeling that there was more to the argument than she knew, that there was something Wren wasn’t telling her.
Over the next few days, Thea turned inward. While she and Wren had bickered and argued their entire lives, this was different. A crack had formed between them, a fissure that grew wider with every day they didn’t speak.
Thea had tried to explain, had tried to track Wren down the next day and the next, but her sister was suddenly like a shadow that kept slipping between her fingers. And the thought of Wren celebrating her new position without her made Thea’s chest ache. She should have been there. ‘What’s wrong with you lately?’ Cal asked over breakfast, his brow furrowed deeply as he studied her. ‘Nothing,’ Thea mumbled into her porridge. ‘Liar,’ Kipp interjected. ‘You’ve been moping for days. And you’re not a moper. I’ve seen you get walloped into the ground by a man twice your size and you hardly blink, so there’s definitely something wrong.’ They waited expectantly, to the point of irritation. ‘I had a fight with Wren, alright?’ Thea snapped. ‘What about?’ Kipp asked.
Thea sighed. ‘I don’t know. About me only caring about being a Warsword, or something to that
effect.’
‘You told her that?’
‘Accidentally.’
Cal let out a low whistle. ‘Brutal.’ ‘I didn’t mean it.’ ‘Well, you’d best fix it with her soon. You’re not gonna win any apprenticeships by being a sad
sap, are you?’ Kipp told her. ‘Helpful, as always,’ she said flatly. ‘We could request some leave. Take her down to the Laughing Fox.’ ‘You and the fucking Laughing Fox, Kipp!’ Cal nearly upset his breakfast. ‘For the love of all the gods, will you shut up about it? And you git, when has anyone in the history of Thezmarr requested “leave”?’ Thea waved him off. ‘It’s fine, it’s fine. He’s only trying —’ ‘To help, I know. Tell me this though, why is his version of help so annoying?’ Thea twisted in her seat, exchanging a surprised glance with Kipp. ‘It appears I’m not the only
one in a mood this morning…’ ‘Oh, don’t start.’ But to her surprise, Kipp grinned gleefully. ‘Who is she?’ ‘What?’ Cal snapped. ‘There’s only one way to get you in such a strop and it’s certainly not my poor attempts at helping Thea. Who is she?’ Kipp winked in Thea’s direction.
Suddenly fascinated, Thea watched the tips of Cal’s cheeks turn pink. ‘We’re not having this conversation,’ he told them firmly, getting to his feet. ‘We are definitely having that conversation,’ Kipp whispered to Thea as they left the breakfast
table. ‘Skip your reading and have a jug of mead with us tonight. We’ll get it out of him. If anything, it’ll make you forget about your sister troubles for an hour or so.’ For the first time in days, Thea smiled. ‘Alright,’ she told him.
Though the nagging guilt persisted at the back of Thea’s mind, she felt lighter throughout the day, grateful for Kipp and Cal, despite his bad mood.
The hours passed in a blur. They finished endurance training; they completed a session of archery and they spent an unusual few hours with the Guild Master himself in the library, where he explained several military strategies the warriors had employed over the years. Kipp was the most eager of their cohort, interrupting regularly with questions and comments. Surprisingly, Osiris didn’t seem bothered by this, but rather energised to have a keen contributor. Though Kipp had told Thea of his interest in strategy, she had thought little of it until that afternoon, where it became clear that Kipp’s mind was a cut above the rest. What he lacked in coordination and strength, he more than made up for in devious tactics and a vast understanding of how an army worked.
When they left the library, Kipp was practically glowing. ‘Incredible isn’t it?’ ‘What?’ Cal asked sullenly. ‘All the ways men and monsters can kill one another?’ ‘Exactly,’ Kipp beamed. ‘In all our time here, you’d be forgiven for thinking that fighting is just swinging a blade or brandishing an axe at someone, but this…’ he trailed off for a moment in awe. ‘This shows a much bigger picture. It shows cunning and brutality in a much more refined way.’ ‘And that’s admirable?’ Cal replied, raising a brow in Thea’s direction. ‘Of course. Certainly no less admirable than what happens on the battlefield, surely?’ ‘Come on,’ Thea urged, tugging Kipp’s sleeve. ‘We’ll be late.’ ‘Oh gods, it’s combat with the Bloodletter, isn’t it?’ Her friend quickened his pace instantly. ‘Yes, and you know how he gets,’ Thea muttered. She had only been in a handful of training sessions with the older Warsword, and what she’d seen had not sat right with her. But right or not, they were due back at the training arena within minutes, and she didn’t want to risk his wrath.
Thankfully, they made it in time, their cohort only just gathering around the arena. Thea’s body was already taut with anticipation. Since that initial demonstration, she had sparred with a range of partners besides Kipp and Cal, and from each of them, she had learned something new. Over the weeks, she had memorised the rules of engagement, and following Hawthorne’s advice, had experimented with how to break them. She had noticed a change in herself. Not only was she physically stronger and faster than before, but she was also more confident. That initial fear of being overpowered had faded and while she was what Torj called a ‘scrappy’ fighter, she could hold her own against most. Thea relished the physicality of close combat, the impact of the blocks and blows, the ringing in her ears from the clash of steel and the weight of a shield on her arm.
And so when Vernich the Bloodletter walked into the arena, she did not fear him.
But she should have.
The older Warsword was in a foul temper already, she could tell by his clenched jaw and the narrowing of his eyes as he surveyed them. ‘Pair up,’ he barked.
As always, the instruction caused a second of hesitation in their trio, but Thea relented and turned to find herself another partner. Lachin was one of the few shieldbearers left without an opponent and so, reluctantly, Thea approached him.
He looked around in genuine surprise. ‘Really?’ ‘We’re both out of options, it seems,’ she replied. She hadn’t sparred with him before, always lumping him in with Seb, whom she did her best to avoid. Because of that, she expected some nasty
comment or objection, but he merely shrugged and tossed her a training sword. ‘Alright then,’ he said, planting his feet apart. ‘When you’re ready.’ ‘I’m ready,’ Thea told him and launched into an attack. She had learned that most of her fellow shieldbearers expected her to hesitate or take her time, and so she did neither of these things. More often than not, she was the first to strike, and typically it was this tactic that caught her opponent off
guard.
Not this opponent.
Lachin was ready. He deflected the first thrust of her practice sword and delivered a powerful blow of his own. Thea didn’t know how old Lachin was, or how long he’d been training at Thezmarr, but from the way he moved she guessed it was a damn sight longer than her.
But it didn’t intimidate her. She was stronger and faster than she’d ever been, and she had an edge that no one knew about - she always fought like her fate depended on it, because it did.
And so she advanced without pause, throwing a high, horizontal cut from her strong side to Lachin’s weak side, his wooden blade looping around to meet her own with a strong, two-handed strike. The impact vibrated up Thea’s arms and she grinned. She lived for this, for the challenge, for the fight.
Lachin was grinning too. ‘You’re better than before.’ ‘I know,’ Thea replied, slicing again.
This time, he nearly failed to block – nearly, before striking again. ‘You didn’t want to use a shield?’ Lachin joked.
And Thea suddenly realised that he was joking, not mocking… Something had shifted in the dynamic.
She flashed him another grin. ‘Don’t need one with you.’ Lachin snorted and attempted an upward cut with the back edge of his blade, but she deflected it, cutting him off and managing to momentarily hook his blade under hers, drawing it down as she delivered a swift kick to his exposed side.
He grunted at the impact.
Thea drew back and circled him. ‘Tired yet?’ she teased. ‘You’re dreaming —’ ‘You fucking useless idiot!’ Vernich’s bellow echoed across the entire arena, bringing everyone’s sparring to a standstill. The sound of a fist cracking bone followed his words.
Thea froze, exchanging a look of alarm with her opponent. Panic latched its claws into her heart as she scanned the shieldbearer pairs, dread sinking in her gut. She spotted the Warsword’s hulking frame almost immediately.
He stood towering over Kipp, who was clutching his bleeding face, doubled over.
Thea’s throat constricted, and she thought she might choke.
Vernich crowded her friend, his face flushed, his lip curled in a snarl. ‘You can barely hold a sword, you pathetic piece of shit.’ Cal took a step forward. ‘Sir, it was my —’ But Vernich grabbed the front of his shirt in his fist and threw him backwards with enough force that he barrelled into several shieldbearers behind him. ‘Stay out of it,’ Vernich growled, advancing once more on Kipp.
Thea’s breathing became quick and shallow, her hands suddenly shaking at her sides. He couldn’t do this, could he? None of the other commanders or masters had laid a hand on the shieldbearers.
Vernich struck Kipp again, sending him sprawling in the dirt with a moan.
Thea’s feet were moving before she had time to think, blood roaring in her ears, spots floating in her vision.
Sensing her movement, Vernich whirled around, his eyes locking on hers. Thea flinched at the hatred she saw there, fear clenched its fist around her. ‘You…’ Vernich spat, taking a step towards her, casting his shadow over her. ‘You’re just as worthless as he is. What were they thinking, letting a woman into the guild?’ Behind him, Cal had rushed to Kipp’s side, and was struggling to get him to his feet, all the while staring at Thea in horror. ‘Let this be a lesson to you all,’ Vernich shouted to the rest of them. ‘Don’t go where you don’t belong.’ Thea couldn’t feel her fingers or toes, feeling smothered as Vernich closed the gap between them. ‘You wanted to be one of us?’ he said, quietly this time. ‘Then show us how much.’ Thea fought to keep her panic under control again, her chest tightening by the second. She could hear the scrape of Kipp’s boots in the dirt as Cal dragged him upright. She could hear the laboured sounds of his breath, could smell the metallic tang of the blood that leaked from his mouth.
She lifted her gaze to Vernich’s and waited. ‘You are to deliver his punishment,’ the Warsword ordered. ‘Three blows.’ Thea stared at him, suddenly desperate to believe that someone would step in at any moment.
Vernich gave a nasty smile. ‘If the blows aren’t enough, the humiliation will be.’ Thea allowed herself a glance at Kipp. He was hanging in Cal’s arms, one of his eyes was swollen shut but he still met her gaze and tried to nod, to give her permission for the brutality that was
asked of her. ‘No.’ Vernich folded his arms over his chest and loomed over her. ‘What did you say?’ Thea forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat and lift her chin. ‘No,’ she repeated. ‘I wasn’t asking.’ Vernich’s voice was laced with violence.
Thea unclenched her jaw. ‘I said no.’ Vernich’s hand flew out, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt and shoving her towards Kipp and Cal.
She stumbled, but kept herself on her feet, despite her knees buckling. ‘Then you’ll be punished alongside him,’ Vernich roared, his face reddening again. He whirled to the crowd and pointed at Sebastos Barlowe. ‘You,’ he commanded. ‘You do it. Three blows a piece.
If they’re not on the ground crying for their mothers by the end...’ He didn’t need to finish his threat.
Seb, however, needed no incentive to take part in something so vile. As he stalked towards Thea, the expression splitting his face was one of triumph, of sadistic joy.
Standing before her, Seb cracked his knuckles menacingly, but she refused to flinch.
This is going to hurt, she told herself, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. I will stay on my feet. I will not cry.
Thea was mid-breath when his fist collided with her gut, sending her reeling backwards, snatching all the air from her lungs. Pain barrelled into her, her hands clutching her stomach as she gasped desperately. Coughing and spluttering, her eyes streamed, but she forced herself to straighten, meeting Seb’s satisfied gaze defiantly. She couldn’t speak, but she let her eyes say what she knew would pierce his fragile ego.
Is that the best you’ve got? she taunted.
Thea saw the second hit coming, but it made no difference. There was no way to brace herself
against the impact, no way to lessen the pain or the panic that came with having the air knocked out of her so soon after the first.
She doubled over, a ragged wheeze escaping her as her insides spasmed. Intense pain burst through her midsection, almost forcing her stomach up through her throat. Nausea followed and Thea’s legs threatened to give out from under her, but sheer willpower forced her upright once again.
Her vision blurred this time and she could feel saliva hanging from her mouth, but she remained unbroken.
The final blow caught her off guard. This time, Seb’s fist struck her on the side, the sharp agony sending her sprawling across the dirt. But this pain had been different, not only for its location, but… Thea’s shirt was wet.
Looking down, she saw red leaking from her side. ‘You bastard!’ someone shouted, and Thea looked up in time to see a flash of silver between Seb’s knuckles before it disappeared into his pocket. ‘He fucking stabbed her!’ cried someone else.
But Thea was too battered to register what he’d done to her. She cared about one thing. It didn’t matter that her eyes were streaming, or that she had spit on her chin.
If they’re not on the ground crying for their mothers by the end… With those words ringing in her head, clutching her bleeding side and choking down the need to vomit, Althea Nine Lives got to her feet. ‘Can’t even beat a girl, Seb,’ she wheezed, spitting blood on the ground.
Humiliation and fury blazing in his eyes, he launched himself at her.
Only to be sent flying back into the dirt. ‘What in the realms is going on here?’ Torj the Bear Slayer bellowed, his gaze shooting to Vernich in disbelief.
The older Warsword eyed him with dislike before he shrugged. ‘Usual shieldbearer hazing,’ he said before shouting to the rest of them, ‘You’re all dismissed.’ Like the coward Seb was, he left in the Bloodletter’s shadow. Dizzy, Thea gazed after them for a moment. ‘You’re only here because your uncle is friends with the Guild Master,’ Cal had said all that time ago in the woods. It suddenly made sense that Seb faced so few consequences for his actions.
Torj turned to Thea, gripping her by the shoulders. ‘What happened?’ he asked, staring at the blood staining her shirt. Cal was helping Kipp limp to her side.
Thea could feel the rest of the shieldbearers lingering around them, and she knew she had a choice. All that time ago, Cal and Kipp had told her of the code of silence between shieldbearers and she’d be damned if she would be the one to break it. And if Seb truly had an in with the Guild Master, then snitching would do her no good.
Forcing her hand to drop casually from her bleeding side, she straightened, suppressing a wince.
‘Nothing, Sir,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t look like fucking nothing.’ Thea was struggling to remain upright; were it not for the big hands gripping her shoulders, she would have swayed. ‘It was nothing,’ she repeated, tasting the blood between her teeth. ‘Thea’s right,’ someone called. ‘Just some hazing that got out of hand.’ ‘Yeah, Sir. Barlowe was just being his usual bastard self,’ Lachin chimed in. ‘Nothing Thea can’t handle.’
Was she hearing correctly? Or had the blows to her gut gone to her head? What were they — ‘Didn’t you see Seb’s face, Sir?’ Cal chimed in. ‘Thea had him.’ Cal’s voice in the mix anchored her and fuelled her understanding. The shieldbearers weren’t condoning Vernich or Seb’s actions. They weren’t downplaying her suffering… They were supporting her choice not to say anything. The shieldbearers, including Lachin, of all people, had her back.
Scanning the determined faces around them, Torj released her, and somehow, she managed to stay standing. ‘Just a few knocks and scratches, Sir,’ she rasped.
The Warsword radiated fury, no doubt recalling the last threats he’d made when he’d discovered the trainees at violent odds with one another, but as no one objected to her story, nor offered the truth of the matter, Torj’s hands were tied. ‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘If you say so.’ He turned to the group. ‘You’re all due back at the fortress. I suggest you make quick work of it.’ When he had gone, it was Lachin who looped his arm through Thea’s and helped her towards the gates. ‘That was some serious grit back there…’ he muttered.
Thea sucked in a painful breath. ‘Didn’t –’ she gasped again – ‘think… I had it… in me?’ ‘I’ll never doubt you again.’ ‘Better… Better have those three silvers…’ she trailed off. ‘Oh, they’re ready and waiting for Kipp. I’d give them to him now if he could walk straight.’ Thea glanced back to see Cal hauling their friend up the grassy knoll. He’d taken head hits from a Warsword. He was likely to have a concussion, or worse.
When they reached the gates, Thea slid her arm from Lachin’s. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered. ‘You don’t need help…?’ Oh, she needed help alright, but while the shock of it all kept her upright, Thea shook her head. ‘Defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?’ ‘I get it,’ he said, giving her a nod of understanding before striding off towards the hall.
Thea paused to lean against the doors. Her body had taken a battering unlike anything she’d experienced before and she could still feel the warm trickle of fresh blood flowing from her wound.
Despite how she’d left things with Wren, she needed to find her sister. The shock was bound to wear off, and when it did she knew she’d be in trouble.
If she’d attended more healing classes with the girls, she might know how to temporarily treat herself, but aside from staunching the bleeding, she knew little else about combat injuries. Her shieldbearer lessons hadn’t covered that topic yet.
She tried to take some small satisfaction in that she’d shown everyone, including Vernich the Bloodletter, that Sebastos Barlowe couldn’t bring her down. She had shown them all that she was unbreakable, and that she belonged at Thezmarr. But all of that would be for nothing if she died in the hallway.
Thea winced as she took her first solo steps. ‘You can do this,’ she muttered. The wound in her side had not stopped bleeding and the light-headedness she was experiencing told her the blood loss was taking its toll.
There was no sign of Cal and Kipp and from that she knew that they’d gone straight to the infirmary, which was where she should be going.
She staggered down the corridor, leaning against the wall for support. I have to find Wren. I have to find Wren. The words became a chant in her head as she turned a corner and her breathing became more shallow. She just needed to reach Wren’s rooms, then all would be well. Spots swam in her
vision as her hand found the cool surface of a door handle and she turned it, stumbling inside.
It was pitch-black and even in her dazed state, Thea knew she was not where she’d intended to be. A rasping wheeze escaped her and she knew she had reached her limit, that she could go no further. Her back hit a cold stone wall, and she leaned her head against it. She just needed to rest for a moment. She just needed to gather her strength. Then she could find Wren. Wren would know what to do. Wren always did.
Thea’s knees quivered under her weight and she felt herself sliding — The door flew open and a huge figure blocked out the light from the corridor. ‘Gods,’ a deep voice sounded, a melody that skated along her bones.
She knew that voice.
Large but gentle hands were peeling her blood-soaked shirt from her side. A callused finger lifted her chin. ‘Who.’ Hawthorne demanded. ‘Who did this to you?’
