Serpent and the Throne (Fedosian Wars #1)

18. Sleep Comes

eighteen

Sleep Comes

The village had been abandoned when the river flooded and the crops failed. The tip of the ghost town was drowned and the rotting frames of thatched rooftops protruding from the water were deceitfully calm as the sun gleamed through the break in the clouds and glittered on the surface. The grass along the bank was wet and the earth underneath sodden.

For four days they’d been on the road and riding through the storm. The horses were exhausted. Sofia wanted to wear something dry, and Aleksei hadn’t slept at all as the sun set on them on their fifth day together. So they sought shelter for the night when they came upon the village the maps had forgotten about. Aleksei had been wary and checked every cottage before the light fell behind the hills, turning the tall spruce growing in between the peasant huts into dark silhouettes.

Sofia found a cottage mostly dry inside and shed her drenched cloak, feeling her shoulder free of the weight for the first time in days. Weeds had grown between the floorboards but the roof was intact except for the dripping in the corner.

The entire thing was the size of Lev’s bedroom at Papa’s city mansion, the modest one, but Sofia didn’t mind it too much, especially when she found a bed and dragged it to the dry spot by the iron stove. The metal chimney was bent and the wind howled inside it but she hoped it worked. The rain made the nights chilly.

Sofia sat down on the bed, something that looked more like an oversized crate turned over than furniture, took off her boots to dry her feet, and massaged the arches that felt sore from the stirrups. Everywhere else was stiff too, even her neck, but the arches of her feet had been bothering her for days.

Aleksei came in from outside, carrying in the tacks and saddlebags of both horses. “Here’s hoping Charger doesn’t take off,” he said.

“Can’t you tie him to something?” she asked.

“I’ve been seeing wolf tracks,” he said.

He crouched to check the inside of the stove, left the reins on a stool by the door, and went out. He’d been saying wolves for days and wouldn’t sleep at night to keep watch. He had a lot on his mind, kept most of it to himself, and she worried for him.

He returned with some wood, pieces taken from collapsed huts, she reckoned, turned his sword into an axe to chop the boards into kindling and firewood, and started a fire in the stove with a flint he carried, a piece of metal that used incomplete alchemy to spark flames.

Except for the canteen, which was always a canteen, he carried a single darksteel kit and changed the items from pan to kettle to little plates and forks as he needed them. The sword he carried, he shifted to all types of weapons as well, and that was a lot of alchemy to accomplish mundane things, taxing on his mind, no doubt.

“Aleksei.”

He’d been sitting on the floor and tending to the fire and looked back at her over his shoulder.

“Will you lie down with me tonight?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said.

“And sleep.”

It took him a long time to say, “I’ll try.”

“We haven’t seen anyone for days. No one is going to pursue little old me this far out. Besides, I’d rather return to Krakova than see you go mad. People need sleep and that includes you.”

“I’ll try, Sofia.”

“Aleksei, leave all that alone for a moment. I’m not hungry and you don’t eat. Come here.” She scooted aside and tapped the bed. He didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat, he was not all right.

He took off his wet cloak and draped it over a stool which he moved closer to the stove, then came and sat down next to her. “If you don’t want oats, I can go find you something else. I saw goose—”

“Shut up, darling.” She pulled him by the neck and laid his head down on her lap. Running her hand over his crown, twirling the locks with her finger, she let him breathe for a moment, before asking, “What’s wrong, darling? And don’t tell me it’s nothing. Everyone is always lying to each other, but I don’t want us to. Talk to me, Aleksei. You’re driving me mad along with you.”

Silent a while, he said, “You’re going far away. I’m going to miss you is all.”

“Come with me.” She was going to Elfur to find her family and he was taking her to Murmia, a port city. Fedosia shared a disputed land border with its tumultuous neighbor, but that would make the trip nearly a month long, and there wasn’t much hope of crossing that way with all the garrisons on both sides. So sailing through the ocean it was.

“I can’t,” he whispered.

Yeah, that had been stupid. He wouldn’t desert his family and country over a woman he met ten days ago. When she reflected on the length of time they’d been together, if it could be called that, it was gracious he was even taking her to Murmia after she killed her husband. Anyone else would have left her in the woods, even her family, especially her family.

“Do you still want to be with me?” She rested her hand on his head. She looked down and he was staring at the wall. The intent had been to get him to rest a bit, but asking questions like this wasn’t helping, probably.

“Always,” he said.

“Then come with me,” she said.

“I can’t.” He sat up.

“Then why are you so sad?” she asked.

“When you leave, I won’t ever see you again. I’m allowed to be sad about that, aren’t I?” He looked everywhere but at her, then his scarlet gaze settled on the fire, the little door of the iron stove, perhaps thinking about getting more firewood, and he’d been like this since she told him she wanted to go to Alten, the Elfurian province her grandmother lived in.

The countess had been old three decades ago, perhaps she had passed since, but Sofia wanted to see if she had any living family. There was nowhere else left for her to go anyway.

“Aleksei, I love you,” she said. “I just want you to know in case that makes a difference.”

He frowned at her, then got up and walked out.

Great. She sighed. She’d been debating whether to confess to him for days, and had hoped he’d handle it better. Though he’d already told her he loved her, she didn’t know how seriously he took it and had a feeling her saying it might frighten him… She’d been right. She lay down, watched the fire, and waited. That was the only thing to do out here.

The evening gave way to night. The fire turned to ember, then burned out. It was completely dark in the hut when the rain started again, soft as though someone shushed her, but the night winds blew through the holes where doors and windows used to be, and it grew cold.

Wolves, he’d been saying, and they howled in the mountains, or maybe that was the weather.

“Aleksei?”

Nothing.

She got up, put on her boots, grabbed her cloak, and stepped outside but it was pitch black. She couldn’t even see the river though she heard the current.

“Aleksei!”

The rain was loud, he probably couldn’t hear her. But suddenly afraid that he might have left, she returned to the hut, found the bed after feeling around in the dark, and tried not to cry. It would be all right, the morning would come… but she didn’t know where she was or where to go, or even if she had a horse still.

The floor creaking with the weight of something made her heart race. She hoped it was Aleksei, but it could have easily been a bear or a demon. It was dark enough to be hell.

A spark made her scream. It was Aleksei starting the fire again, but she’d already cried and wanted to yell at him for frightening her. He’d brought a fish and started cleaning that, trying to make her food as he was always doing.

She thought he cut himself because he had blood running down his arm, the red vivid even in the dim firelight through the tiny door of the iron stove.

“Aleksei?” She went to him, took his hand, and inspected it to see how bad it was, but didn’t see any gash. “You’re bleeding. What did you do?”

He was also drenched and it wasn’t only the rain. He’d been in the river. Another thing, when he couldn’t sleep, when he thought she was asleep, he’d hurt himself.

“What did you do?” she yelled at him. She tugged his shirt when he backed away from her, wanting to address the thing she saw him do last night. “What’s this!”

He’d tightened the cilice around his abdomen last night. He kept hurting himself and they hadn’t been together since they left Krakova because he wouldn’t let her touch him. It was because he didn’t want her to see him, she knew that, but she didn’t understand what the hell he was doing.

“What’s this?” she yelled, pulled up his sleeve, and yelled about when he cut his wrist and cauterized the wound with scorching darksteel. “What’s this? What’s this?” she shouted over the weather about the numerous things he’d done, and she could scream all night and not be done. “What are you doing!” She balled her fist and punched his chest. “What are you doing!”

He was killing himself. She kept hitting him like that would do anything beyond what he did to himself. Then she gave up and just sat down and cried.

“Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

She turned away from him and didn’t speak to him.

After a long, long while, he said, “I’m having a hard time letting you go, and I’m trying my best to deal with it, all right? I’m trying not to redline. If I do, I’ll kill you, Sofia. I would leave, but then you’ll be stranded out here in the middle of nowhere. It’s just a couple more days. I’ll get you to Murmia, but please don’t push me. I’m trying and I’m trying but my mind is unraveling.”

She turned and he was just standing there, then he went back to what he’d been doing, cleaning the stupid fish, now cooking it.

“Are you dying?” she asked.

“I can’t yet,” he said, not looking at her. “I don’t want to leave Niko, and I’m trying to be here till he becomes old enough for the throne. But every morning, every night, every hour,” he exhaled, “it’s a struggle. I don’t think you’d understand how it is to hate being you so much.”

“Aleksei.” She waited but he didn’t look up at her. “Please come with me.”

He sat there on the floor, flicking his knife, then tossed it across the room into the darkness. “I want to, Sofia. I want to so badly, you have no idea, but I can’t leave Niko. When you leave, I know I won’t ever see you again. And it’s hard. It’s so hard because I don’t ever get to have anything.” He clenched his jaw and it looked like he might cry, but he grimaced and got up. “Soup is probably better. Let me go get some water, yeah?”

“Aleksei,” she called, but he grabbed a random thing and headed for the door. “ALEKSEI!” That stopped him. “You will come back to me right now or I won’t be here when you return. I’m going to wander around the forest and see if the wolves are real.”

She was serious, and he knew it. He tossed the bowl in his hand, sending it clanking into another dark corner, turned, and came and stood by the bed she was sitting on. “What do you want? I’ve already told you I’m trying my best.”

“I want you, I want you , Aleksei. You’re coming with me. I demand it.” She rose, stood in front of him, and held his hands. He didn’t need to be using any more alchemy or doing whatever was taxing him so much. She’d care for him. They’d find their way, and even if she had to spend every night from now on in pouring rain sheltering in an abandoned hut, so be it. “Nikolas is the crown prince of Fedosia. Whether he’s your brother, I don’t care. There’s a thousand people to care for him and only one for you, and you’re looking at her. Till the people who care for you include yourself, Aleksei, you’re coming with me. That’s final, so as long as it’s true you love me.”

“I can’t.” He yanked his hands from her and covered his face. His breathing did stutter just then.

“Why? Tell me why.”

“I can’t. It won’t be fair to you, Sofia.”

“No, I want to know why. Tell me why. And it better not be Nikolas because he’s a damn tsar, Aleksei. One more sentinel to die for him doesn’t make a difference.”

He dropped his hands but still didn’t look at her. He stared at the fire, and tears wetted his long lashes, then ran down the length of his face when he blinked. “I drowned my brother.” He furrowed his brows. “Burkhard beheaded my mother. I was twelve and I had to train to be a sentinel. They took my horse, sterilized me like a stray dog…

“I was just upset that day, and Niko kept bothering me. He was five. He just wanted to go to the river and float a little sailboat. I held him in the river, and killed him, Sofia. He was so little and I killed him. Then I ran away because I was afraid.”

He needed a moment because he couldn’t breathe, and Sofia let him be. She thought he meant he tried to kill his brother because the prince was alive but didn’t interrupt him. He stood there. The weather worsened out there, the wind howling like a wolf.

“They looked for Niko,” he continued. “They thought he’d run away because he did that sometimes, and I didn’t tell anyone what I had done. They searched for the prince for days. Then Grigori returned with him. Seeker spell, he’d found the prince lost in the woods, he’d said, but that’s not true. That can’t be true. He was dead.

“It’s the mercy of the saints, Sofia. They returned my brother and I promised I’d atone for what I’d done. That is the trade, my life for his.

“Queen Kseniya is damn mad. She’s fucken gone, and if the Boyar Duma finds out, if your uncle finds out, they’re going eat my house alive. They’re going to kill my brother.

“I have to get Niko to his throne. That’s my atonement. I mean to serve him till I die or redline to honor my trade with the saints. But it’s hard when I have to spend my days taking lives, and my nights kneeling for coins. Some days, I just don’t want to get up, and it’s become more trying since Father’s death.

“When the queen is well, she hates me because she hates my mother, calls me a whore’s son like my father did. But it’s worse when she isn’t well. Then she calls me to her bedchamber because she can’t tell the difference between me and my father.

“Of all the courtiers I hate touching me, she revolts me the most, but it is what it is. I’m trying to do the right thing here, Sofia, and take you to Murmia, get you a good cabin on a packet ship with a decent captain, let you go, stay here, and protect my brother till I can’t.

“But my fucken mind is unraveling, all right? I won’t leave you out here with nothing, but just cut me a fucken break, this much,” he showed a tiny space between his index and thumb, “and don’t breathe down my fucken neck, all right?” He backed away from her. “Let me make you this soup, I caught the fish and everything, and leave me alone.”

“Aleksei…”

“Sofia, I realize if I just left you alone, I wouldn’t have ruined your life. But two horses, that’s all I have. I’ll sell them both to get you on a decent ship. But I don’t have anything else in me or this world. Don’t tell me you love me because you can’t mean that. Don’t ask anything else of me. Just know I’m doing my best, and sadly, this is all I’ve got.”

He’d found another knife to be fiddling with the fish. She went to him and grabbed his hand. “Aleksei, look at me.” She snatched the knife and let it drop. “Look at me.”

“What do you want?”

“I love you.” She held his face when he tried to pull away from her. “I love you. I love you. Aleksei, I love you.”

“Please stop that. You don’t mean that.”

“I love you.”

“You don’t mean that.” His voice faltered. He was so young and had so much on his mind, no wonder it was breaking.

“Aleksei, I love you.”

“You can’t mean that!”

“Why?”

“Look at you, Sofia, and look at me.”

“I am looking at you, Aleksei.” She kissed him and tasted the salt from when he’d been crying.

“You’re the most beautiful thing God created, but you can buy another me at any whorehouse you walk into. It’ll cost you a whole lot less and come with much less insanity,” he said.

“No,” she answered for both of them because they had to stop the lunacy. “I love you , Aleksei, and I’m taking you with me. That’s final. The hell with the Guards, the devil with the Shields, and the saints forsake the Boyar Duma . I’m leaving, and I’m taking you with me because you’re mine. That’s the end of it, Aleksei.” She kissed him again and whispered into his mouth, “No one else can have you. I won’t allow it. You’re mine. ”

“I can’t break my promise to the saints,” he said.

“That’s not how that works, you’re confused,” she said. “Had Niko really died, what returned isn’t him. It’s called necromancy, a demon taking his form. We call that a soulless, and the saints have nothing to do with that. More than likely, darling, he was just unconscious and frightened you senseless in the dark. What does a twelve-year-old boy know, mmm?

“As a White Guard, I promise you the saints don’t bring back the dead. The dver doesn’t swing that way, not without breaking the world of the living. How many light codices have you read? What do you know of the church or the saints, really?

“If we were destined to meet, it was so I could relieve you of this guilt. You did not kill Niko. I swear it on my soul. Believe me.”

She pulled him down onto the crate posing as a bed. Distressed, he was shivering and she held him. Then he propped himself up and looked at her. He didn’t say anything, but he was holding out his heart to her, hoping she wouldn’t throw it on the rotten floorboards of a crumbling hut.

She wouldn’t do that, of course not. He was the most precious thing she ever beheld.

He laid his head on her chest. “Your heart is racing.”

“That’s what happens when you’re with someone you love,” she whispered, taking his hand and lacing her fingers through his. “I’m quite disturbed as well, you’ll find. For one, I think an invisible man comes to me when I’m sad.”

“What’s this competition I have?” He tipped his head back and looked up at her, his expression light, for the first time… since she’d met him.

“Not sure. I can honestly say I’ve never seen him.” She ran her free hand through wet hair. “Before I came for the prince's birthday, I’d been to Krakova a grand total of one time. The Church of All Saints was the only place I was allowed to go, and isn’t it wild you managed to see me that day? What are the chances?”

His hand was on her thigh, caressing. “Not only did I see you, but I managed to fall in love with you. I dreamed about you every night, improper things because I was a boy, and I was crushed to find out I’d been in love with the dead.” He kissed her breast through the fabric of her dress, then laid his head on her heart.

“When I saw you at Raven, I was so afraid of approaching you. I don’t think I would have had you been with anyone else. But you were alone. And it was dark. If I pissed my trousers, she wouldn’t notice, I thought. Did I do well?”

“You frightened me, to be honest,” she said. “And then the watchman… What are they?”

“They are sentinels who have redlined,” he said. “Have you seen a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth?”

“Yes. One of Papa’s hunting dogs got bitten by a wolf and went mad. Papa put him down because he attacked the horses,” she said.

“That’s what redlining is for us. It’s the red of our alchemy consuming the mind. I always feel it but it’s infinitely worse when I’m stressed. It feels like my sight is folding from the corners into darkness, and all I hear is a scream.

“The watchmen have a darksteel rod through the part of their brain to pacify them. The queen controls them. They feel no fear or pain, only rage when the queen unleashes them. If you ever see my eyes glow like that, you need to get away from me. I no longer know who you are.”

“Not going to happen.” She clamped him with her thighs and rolled herself on top of him. The way they’d been positioned, she ended up high on his chest.

“Do you want to move up a bit?” He grabbed her behind, making her jolt up.

“I thought you said you hated that.” She reached down and glided her thumb over his brow.

“Don’t take that too seriously. I was being overdramatic. I love yours, feels like flower petals.”

“Now it’s going to smell like wet saddle and horse.” She scooted down, lay on top of him, and pulled up her cloak which had been drying by the stove. The morning was far away but the fire was burning out, giving its last few crackles. “Sleep, Aleksei, I command thee.” She put her hand over his eyes. “Please.”

“Can I add a bit of wood to the fire so we can be comfortable a little longer?”

She groaned but let him get up. It would be cold soon. “You are coming with me?” She reached over and caressed his nape while he stoked the fire.

“Yes,” he said, finally. “Not because I’m deserving. I just want to.”

“Who decides what you deserve?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” was his answer.

“Fine. I shall decide from now on. You deserve love, which you have. You deserve rest, which you should get. You deserve happiness. Whether you can find it, I don’t know, but you deserve at least the pursuit of it. Are we clear?”

“Yes, my lady.” Done with the fire, he came and kissed her hand and huddled beside her. “I love you.” He held her, breathed deeply a couple of times, and when he didn’t stir anymore, Sofia closed her eyes to the warmth of the fire on her face and the whispering of the dissipating rain, knowing he’d fallen asleep.