Seas of Crimson Silk (Burning Empire Book 1) Page 6

  “We will not fight.”

  “It is time, matriarch.”

  “I won't see bloodshed because I’m sent from your side.” Sigrid reached out and placed her hands on Brynhild’s. “It’s too soon. Our emotions are too raw.”

  Camilla spoke up, her hands hidden in the folds of her dress. “There is always another choice.”

  Sigrid eyed where her sister’s hands were, and her gaze narrowed. “I will not seek silence to escape from any man.”

  “It’s not to escape from him. They’re placing you in the most dangerous man’s grasp, knowing he could use you against us.”

  She curled her hands into fists. “You think I am so easily controlled?”

  “I think you’re dangerous.”

  “Have I ever shifted because our king ordered it? Have I ever given you the impression that if a war started, I would kill indiscriminately because another person told me to? How dare you think I am so easily convinced to murder just because they have traded me to yet another man?”

  “You wouldn't be the first,” Camilla replied.

  She couldn’t expect her sister to feel remorse in suggesting suicide, but she was still insulted. Sigrid prided herself on her abilities to make decisions based on her own morals. No man or woman would ever sway her when she knew something was right or wrong.

  And yet, those yellow eyes haunted her.

  Camilla pulled a thin blade from her side and held it out for Sigrid to take. “None of us would blame you, my dearest Sigrid. If this is where the drakon line ends, then I will be proud to have known you.”

  She wrapped her fingers around the blade, feeling the sharp edge cut into her fingers, but didn't take it from Camilla’s hand. “This is not my path. Not yet.”

  Her sisters worried, and they had a right to. None of them knew what this boy king wanted. If anything. But she refused to show fear.

  The Beastkin line had always been one of honorable women. They were known for their kindness, grace, and piety. She would not allow that to die with her.

  Sigrid blew out a breath. “With great sadness, I must say goodbye to you all. I will miss you greatly, but know I will always think of you. My sisters. My family.”

  “You won’t go alone.” Camilla placed the knife back in the folds of her dress. “It would be an honor to accompany you to this strange world.”

  “Your loyalty may lead you to your death.”

  “It’s mine to give as I wish. And I refuse to send you alone.”

  Her heart swelled until she thought it would burst from her chest. Slowly, Sigrid lifted her hands and removed her mask. Face bare for the last time in a very long time, she faced her sisters so they could see every emotion play through her eyes and across her face.

  “Take care of each other,” she said. “Camilla, see if you can pack my things while I say goodbye.”

  ----

  Sigrid stood outside the castle walls for the third time in her life. The first time she had been a child, staring up at the cold white marble, wondering why her mother had brought her here. The second time was to marry a man who ended up dead, his blood warming her skin through the silken fabric of her wedding gown.

  Now, she left with the man who had started it all. His war was the reason Beastkin moved from outside the city to inside its walls. His orders were the reason her intended husband was dead. And now, he had ordered her to return home with him.

  Everything seemed to happen in circles. She always ended up back with the Bymerians who had started all this. It was strange how life could do that to a person.

  Camilla reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s time to go.”

  “I know,” she nodded. “I just wanted one last look.”

  “Will you miss it?”

  Sigrid contemplated the castle, then shook her head. “No.”

  She was trading one cage for another. Why would she miss it?

  The Bymerians waited for them. Some guards stood at attention, their hands lingering on bejeweled blades, crimson armor molded to their forms. Leather armor still escaped her understanding. Metal would be far more protective, and yet they insisted on something they could dye the color of their king.

  Both Sigrid and Camilla wore Beastkin armor. The metallic corsets were uncomfortable to travel in, but they set a standard.

  The nearest box opened. Small holes in the door allowed air into the confined space. A delicate hand reached out, henna dyed patterns waving in the air.

  “Come, you are to travel with me.”

  Sigrid walked towards the voice. A woman was within the confines, her face bare and bells jangling at her ankles and wrists. There would be time for her to understand this female’s purpose. But not now.

  She shook her head. “Beastkin do not travel in cages. We will ride or walk.”

  Thundering hooves raced towards them. She looked up into the angry gaze of her new husband.

  “You will ride with Saafiya,” he growled.

  “I will not.”

  He seemed taken aback. “I gave you an order, wife.”

  She hated how he used that term to try to control her. She lifted her head, the sun fracturing off her mask and reflecting its brightness into her husband’s eyes. “I will walk, if I must.”

  His upper lip twitched. “Then you will walk.”

  He cruelly twisted the reins in his hands, forcing his horse to turn away. She winced at the mistreatment and was grateful he couldn’t see her expression.

  Camilla sighed. “That was foolish.”

  “He needs to understand that I will not break.”

  “Now we have to walk.”

  “You may fly, my dear friend.” She reached out a hand and smiled. “Or ride on my shoulder if you wish. I’m perfectly happy to traverse these lands one last time.”

  Her sister arched a brow. “You wanted to walk, didn’t you?”

  Sigrid didn’t respond.

  Camilla shook her head, but left with a grin on her face to shift in privacy. Of anyone, she understood Sigrid’s desire to be close to the land. She followed the tunnels deep inside the earth just to be close to the heartbeat she always heard. She would say her goodbyes to Wildewyn, one last time.

  New footsteps approached, and it took every inch of Sigrid's patience not to lose her temper. She folded her hands at her waist. “I won’t ride in the tiny box with that woman. Please, save your breath.”

  A chuckle boomed, so deep it sounded like thunder. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not here to argue with you.”

  She turned and stared at a mammoth of a man. His dark skin glistened in the sunlight, shaved head tattooed with unfamiliar patterns. But she immediately saw the smile lines at the corners of his eyes, and the kindness reflected in their depths.

  She dropped into a curtsy, spreading her pale blue dress wide. “My name is Sigrid of Wildewyn.”

  “I am Raheem, the sultan’s personal guard.”

  Her spine stiffened. “And for what reason has he sent you?”

  “To be your shadow.”

  “And to report any unusual behavior, I assume.”

  The big man’s mouth twisted into a wide grin. “That too. But I promise, I’ll make certain it’s behavior he needs to know about. Otherwise, your secrets are safe with me.”

  “I don’t believe that in the slightest.” But she appreciated the sentiment, nonetheless. “One small favor, guard. Please tell me his reaction when you regale him with what I’m about to do.”

  Raheem’s brow arched.

  She toed off her shoes, bent at the waist, and stowed them deep in the hidden pockets of her dress. Sighing, she lifted her skirts just enough to show the large man her toes wiggling in the earth.

  His jaw dropped open. Though he could not see her wide grin, she hoped he understood the crinkling at the edges of her eyes.

  “The only appropriate way to say goodbye to Wildewyn would be to feel her breathing underneath my feet.”

  He cleared his throat. “In
this case, your secret is safe with me.”

  “A small miracle. How quaint.”

  The loud ruckus of Bymerians leaving heralded her last few moments. She didn’t know how long the journey would take, but she was already dreading what she would find waiting for her in the deserts of this new land. A loud screech above them echoed.

  She looked up to see Camilla fly past on silent wings. Her silver down feathers nearly blended into the clouds. She flew a distance before alighting on a tree branch and waiting for them to catch up.

  Sigrid wished she could join her sister in the skies. She was too big to fly, people would see her, and no one knew how to react when they saw a dragon taking flight. So, she walked.

  The guards sent her strange looks. She wondered what expressions they would wear if they could see her feet.

  Her toes sank into the dirt with each step, mud squelching between her toes in the most glorious sensation she’d felt in a long time. Sigrid remembered running through these forests as a child. Her mother would call out for her to slow down, that she would disappear between the trees and no one would ever find her again.

  Even when she was young, she’d always wanted to disappear into the forest and never return. There were too many rules among the Beastkin. Don’t show your face to anyone but family. Don’t speak too loudly or you might startle the others. Stand up straight, don’t whisper, be polite, listen to the humans.

  Her mother had whittled away at Sigrid’s adventurous nature until she had created a being in her own image. Now, she was calm and quiet. Still water without a breath of air to give it life.

  Sometimes, she regretted that change.

  A breeze played across her shoulders, slipping underneath her mask to tickle her chin. Sigrid widened her eyes to fill them with the impossibly beautiful sight of her homeland. She wanted to brand every emerald leaf to her memory.

  Raheem coughed into his hand. “Are you certain you wish to walk, my lady?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s cold out. Perhaps, you should put your shoes back on.”

  “No.”

  He grunted. “If you get sick, I’m the one to blame.”

  “Are you my caretaker?” She glanced up at him, the mask chilly against her forehead. “I already have one if that’s your role. You know nothing about my kind.”

  “I believe that is a critical part of my role,” Raheem replied with a chuckle. “To learn about your kind without you knowing.”

  “You’re doing a terrible job at it.”

  “I find it's easier to learn information through honesty than deception. I find it difficult to wear many faces.”

  She looked him up and down. “Yes. It’s impossible to hide a wolf in silks, I would imagine.”

  He tossed his dark head back, and let out a laugh like thunder. “You and I will get along, little sultana. And here I was thinking you were meek and quiet.”

  “I am quiet.” She folded her hands in front of her. “But that is not a weakness.”

  She felt the physical weight of his gaze on her. If he thought he would understand a drakon Beastkin just by looking, then he would be very disappointed. There were a hundred layers to her person; each more intricate than the last.

  The wind picked up and emerald leaves fell in a shower atop the crimson caravan. Sigrid grinned, safely hidden behind her golden mask. Each leaf danced and twirled before falling underneath her feet to guide her across the uneven ground. Wildewyn bid goodbye to one of its daughters, and she felt its sadness with every step.

  Their travels were relatively uneventful. She slept under the stars with Camilla at her side. Her “husband” stayed with his advisors and the beautiful woman. She saw him only in the mornings when he tried to order her into the box, and she defied him.

  Instead of growing angry, the sultan appeared to grow even more interested in her with every quietly murmured “no.”

  On the last day in Wildewyn, she glanced up at Raheem, her constant shadow and now walking companion. “Does anyone ever say ‘no’ to the sultan?”

  Her guard thought for a few moments, his brows furrowing before he shook his head. “I can’t think of anyone who would dare disagree with his orders.”

  “What would happen if they did?”

  “Likely death. He does not abide by fools in his sultanate.”

  She followed the train of Bymerians up to where her ruby clothed husband rode at the forefront. “Then why am I still alive?”

  “That is a question none of us have the answer to, but many have asked.” Raheem held out a hand for her to take as they crossed a stream.

  She shook her head and made her way by herself. “Beastkin touch no one but family or husbands.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “It’s our way.”

  “Ah,” Raheem replied. “That doesn’t make much sense. What if someone injured you and I needed to help?”

  She didn’t know the answer. Some Beastkin would die rather than allow anyone, man or woman, to touch them and break their unspoken rituals. Others would allow the touch to save their own lives. Sigrid didn’t know which the right response was.

  Water sloshed around her ankles as she paused to think about the question. Birds chirped overhead and many of the Bymerians walked by her with questioning expressions. Raheem remained in the frigid water until he cursed and stomped out.

  “Are you coming, little sultana? I will pick you up if I need to.”

  “I think I would allow a touch if my life hung in the balance,” she finally replied. “It would not be pleasant, but I believe that is a compromise I would make.”

  “You took that long to figure it out?” Raheem held out a hand for her to take, yet again. “Get out of the water, Sultana. You’ll freeze.”

  She ignored his hand, but stepped out of the stream. Her toes were a little numb. She remembered this feeling from when she was a little girl. She had bathed in icy streams, teeth chattering, lungs screaming for breath as she dove underneath the surface.

  “Do you have streams like this in Bymere?” she asked.

  “No. Bymere is a desert. You’ll find mostly sand there, my lady.”

  She made a quiet, disappointed sound. She would miss the rushing waters, the green algae growing on the rocks, and the quiet melody only a river or stream could make.

  “It’s a beautiful land,” he continued. “Everything is gold and red as far as the eye can see. Our capital and your new home is the greatest structure ever built. You’ll fall in love with the Red Palace.”

  She held her head high but did not respond. What could she say? That she was looking forward to seeing this monstrosity that held no semblance of familiarity?

  Sigrid wanted nothing more than to turn around and climb back into the waiting arms of her sisters. It was her last moment to leave. She’d made no vows, and yet, she couldn’t turn back from this responsibility.

  “We’re here,” Raheem said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

  Steeling herself, Sigrid looked up at the sheer mountain that divided their countries. It towered before them, hewn through the center, leaving a ragged, straight edge carved by the ancients long ago. Water fell from the top, cascading in wide falls, crashing at the base to form all the rivers and streams that meandered through Wildewyn.

  Their one and only gift from Bymere, which perched high above them on the mountain tops plateau.

  She blew out a breath. “There it is.”

  “The Edge of the World,” Raheem replied.

  Silent wings brushed against her back and Camilla landed on her metal clad shoulder. Sigrid reached up to help steady her sister, but kept her eyes on the mountains.

  “How do we ascend it?”

  Raheem pointed. “There is a pulley system at the top. Our men will lower it, and we will stand as they pull us up.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Everyone.”

  She glanced at the large number of people the sultan had brought with him and snorted. “I pity t
he men at the top.”

  Again, her guard appeared surprised. “Why consider them?”

  “Carrying the weight of everyone is a heavy burden. And what would happen if they dropped us?” She shaded her eyes and watched as a wooden platform lowered from the top. “It doesn’t seem very safe.”

  “It would be a quick death,” he sputtered.

  “For you.” Her gaze heated, eyes burning with the dragon inside her. “I would survive.”

  Raheem rubbed a hand over his head. “You’re an intimidating little thing when you want to be.”

  “Beastkin don’t hide behind their femininity. I am beast and woman.” She lifted a shoulder. “One and the same.”

  Camilla snapped her beak and spread her wings wide for balance.

  She didn’t want to get on that rickety platform. Though they both had wings, it was not a rush Sigrid ever wished to experience. Once they ascended that mountain, they would never return to their home. The thought made a shiver travel down her spine.

  Raheem made a choked sound. “You really believe you’re a dragon.”

  She turned her cold gaze to him. “Yes.”

  “It’s not possible. There’s no such thing as a Beastkin who can transform into something so large.”

  Camilla tilted her head back and gulped, the owl form of laughter.

  “I can assure you, there is a dragon inside me," Sigrid replied, her lips curved in a smile.

  “Can’t all women say that?”

  She snorted. “Some certainly can, but I have not met many Bymerian women. Perhaps, you are more equipped to answer that question.”

  “Our women are terrifying.” He gave a mocking shiver. “One wrong word and they turn into screeching terrors.”

  “Thank you for the warning.”

  A sharp whistle interrupted them. The platform had arrived at the bottom, much larger than Sigrid had expected.

  The sultan stared them down at the front of the caravan, his brows furrowed and anger radiating from his gaze. “Raheem!” he called out. “You were charged with watching my new wife, not speaking with her.”

  “One and the same, Your Majesty.”

  “Bring her to the platform.”