Ilyenna’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”
A knock sounded. Ilyenna started and stared at the door.
Varris took the knife and shoved it up Ilyenna’s sleeve. “The Council came up with a way to ensure your freedom. Take it.”
Ilyenna waited for her emotions to drown her, for tears to well in her eyes. But nothing came except an immense sadness. When a man and a woman came together, they joined the opposite sides of the Balance, making a circle. The Link. Marriage to Darrien was anything but balanced. It was a mockery of what she’d had with Rone.
The door flew open. Darrien gave a slight nod of approval and stepped inside. Ilyenna’s mouth suddenly went dry. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to move.
He smiled wickedly at her. “You can come on your own or be dragged.”
His obvious delight at the prospect finally did it. He would never touch her. Just before she left the house, she turned to look at Varris. The woman stood rooted to the spot, her face ashen. “Take it,” she mouthed.
Ilyenna gave a slight nod. Walking past Darrien, she started toward the clan house. Already, twilight was coming on.
He hurried to catch up. “Eager are we?”
She wanted to vomit. “Let’s just get this over with.”
He grabbed her arm, steering her away from the clan house. Just below his fingertips rested Varris’s knife. Ilyenna felt sweat bead her brow. If he felt it . . .
But he hadn’t noticed it yet. “It’s not often a clan chief marries,” he said. “We have people to greet.”
He was actually going through with the traditional parade? Would his foolishness never end? “Your clanmen are leaving for war, and you want them to celebrate? Give you gifts? Besides, as soon as the steward comes, you’ll be disposed.”
“That,” Darrien said, his voice slung dangerously low, “will never happen.” He led her down a street.
Little girls ran ahead of them, throwing flowers and shouting, “The bride comes!”
People came to the doors. Women shouted well wishes, while the men called out innuendoes. Gifts were handed out, gifts which young boys carried ahead, shouting. More girls came from the houses to throw flowers at Ilyenna’s feet.
It was all for show. Ilyenna could see fear in the clanwomen’s faces, and annoyance in the clanmen’s. The knife felt heavy above her wrist. “You’re just doing this to draw out my fear,” she said to Darrien.
Turning down yet another street, he waved. “Of course, now smile.”
She didn’t bother. He could pretend all he wanted, but she refused. “Don’t you understand? You’ve already taken everything,” she said. “You’ve nothing to threaten me with. Nothing to hold hostage.”
They passed the last of the houses. The boys’ arms were loaded with gifts, everything from barrels of beer to burlap sacks of grain. Darrien bent down to her, his lips brushing her ear. Clanmen shouted and hooted at the sight. She felt his lips pull into a smile. “Everything? Oh, no. I have one more thing to take from you.”
She smiled to herself and thought, Oh no you don’t. I already gave it to Rone. And you’ll die before you ever touch me. She longed to say the words out loud, to wipe the smile from his face.
Just before they entered the clan house, Darrien turned to the crowd. Ilyenna saw Varris standing at the back, her hands crossed over her stomach. Darrien smiled at her as two men took up positions beside her. “Because you are an honored guest on this momentous day, Varris of the Riesen, I’ve ordered an honor guard to see to your safety and every need.”
Varris’s hands dropped to her sides and her gaze met Ilyenna’s. Ilyenna’s head spun until she was sick. Darrien gripped her arm again, pulling her inside and shutting the door to the shouts outside.
Ilyenna wondered how he’d known she and Varris were planning to escape—and if he already knew about the knife a finger’s breadth from his hand. As he pushed her up the ladder, Ilyenna noted Metha’s blankets rolled up beside the wall. Harrow’s basket lay next to it. This was Metha’s home. Her gifts. Harrow’s heritage. Ilyenna was a thief here.
But she hadn’t taken away Metha’s place on purpose. At least the woman seemed to understand that now, though Ilyenna doubted Metha would ever forgive killing Darrien.
Darrien opened the door to his room. Ilyenna was numb. Unfeeling. Dead. She felt the outline of the knife against her skin. She studied Darrien’s face, looking for any sign of humanity. “You don’t have to do this.”
He grunted. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time. Now, you can come in by yourself or screaming.”
She stared into the room full of dead things and took a hesitant step forward. The rest weren’t so hard. She found herself beside the bed, staring out the window into the night sky. Could she really go through with killing him? What other choice did she have?
“So, what can I do to rile you up?” Darrien asked. “I like you better when you’re feisty.”
Yes, she could kill him.
He pulled her hair over her shoulder and began kissing her neck. She eased the knife down between her fingers.
“What if I said you were right, that my father and I were in line with the Raiders? That they promised us all of the Shyle and Argon lands if we crippled your clans and kept the pass clear. Would that make you fight?”
That explained why he’d taken a clan chief and two clan mistresses. A leaderless clan was a weak clan. Anger coursed through Ilyenna with such heat that she wondered how it didn’t consume her. She calmed herself before asking, “Then why bother with me?”
Darrien slowly tugged at the laces at her shoulders. “If the Raiders fail, the Shyle will still be nearly destroyed. Of course I’d step in, take care of my wife’s clan. I’d have claim to.”
“And if the Raiders defeat the clans, you’ll kill me?” she said.
He chuckled. “No. I don’t think I will. You’re much too amusing to kill.”
She thought of all the people dead because of Darrien, and how many more would die in the future. She wanted to fight him, to scratch his eyes out and feed them to him. Her insides quivered with rage. Spinning, she plunged the knife toward him.
Darrien caught her arm and twisted it behind her back. She cried out in pain.
He laughed. “Took you long enough to use that knife.”
He tried to pull the knife from her, but she tightened her grip. He twisted her arm so hard he lifted her from the ground. She felt something tear in her shoulder. He jerked the knife from her hand and threw her on the bed.
Her breath coming hard and fast, she stared at the knife in his hand. She’d failed.
“I figured you’d try something like this,” Darrien said matter-of-factly. “I would have.”
“I’ll tell the Council what you’ve done.”
He shook his head. “By then, it will be too late. The Raiders will be here.” As he took a step toward her, a knock sounded at the door.
“Not now!” Darrien shouted.
“I’m sorry Clan Chief, but one of Burdin’s men has come from Shyle Pass. The Raiders are almost through, and their numbers are overwhelming. They’re calling for every able-bodied clanmen to move out as soon as word reaches them. You have to give the order now.”
Darrien let out a low, guttural growl. “There’s no way my clanmen can be ready to move out tonight. Tomorrow. Maybe the next day.”
“Clan Chief, the man has orders from Burdin himself.”
Darrien ran his hands through his hair. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
When the door slammed behind him, Ilyenna felt the first tremor. Then her whole body started to shake so hard she had to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering. Using the dress, she scrubbed Darrien’s saliva from her neck and shoulder. Tears started down her face as she yanked the laces of her dress tight.
She remembered Varris’s words, “Don’t stop fighting.”
Ilyenna glanced around, looking for some kind of weapon. Then she remembered. Her clan belt still hung from a nail above the bed. She scrambled onto the bed, grabbed her belt, and jerked the knife out of its sheath.
She heard Darrien coming. She whirled away and cradled the dagger to her breast, her heart throbbing in her chest.
She flinched when the door banged open. He grabbed her from behind. “Let’s get this over with.”
Ilyenna whirled and pressed the dagger into his middle. She tried to force herself to kill him, sink it into his flesh, but she just couldn’t.
Darrien raised his hands. “We’ve been over this. You’re a healer, not a killer. Now give me the knife.” He reached for it.
Ilyenna pushed harder. He backed away. She moved with him. “You keep forgetting I killed your brother.”
Darrien’s expression hardened. “You kill me and they’ll hang you.”
Ilyenna smiled. “I know.”
He pivoted away from the knife and tried to bat her hand away. She braced herself and charged him. The knife slipped easily into his belly.
He stared at the blood dripping down his shirt. “I—you—”
She pulled out the knife. Blood gushed onto the floor. Ilyenna’s healer instincts kicked in. She could staunch it. If she’d missed his intestines, he might even survive.