A Sword Of Wrath, Book I by K. E. MacLeod (best way to read ebooks TXT) 📕

"I'm sorry for what has happened," he gently took her hands and pulled them closer to him. He then pulled a small knife from his boot and cut away the ropes. As they fell away, he saw that her wrists were red and raw and his face filled with a slight worry, "You must put something on that soon or it will fester."

"It-it will be fine. I will be fine," she pulled her hands away from him. "Thank you for your concern."

"Are you hungry?"

Nona hadn't eaten anything since long before her journey had begun that morning. "No," she lied, "but again, thank you."

"I will bring you something later." He reached out and held her chin as he examined her face, "You seem healthy. So, how is it that you have reached three decades without being claimed by someone?"

She laughed, "Because I am smart. Or maybe the men are, I don't know." Nona tucked a piece of leaf-strewn hair behind an ear, "I only relented to marry Pavo because my father had threated to throw me out to the forest goblins. I know he's a bastard on his best day but I never thought he'd go this far!" She shook her head as her expression saddened, "You cannot know what it feels like to be rejected by your entire village, by your family..."

Tacitus felt a burning along the scar on his chest, "No... I guess I cannot. I hope someone comes forward quickly on your behalf."

"Me, too. I don't really want to sleep outside, in the darkness." She looked at Tacitus, her eyes touched by fear, "What if no one comes forward? What will happen to me then?"

"I... don't know. I have been a Cavalli for all of my four and half decades and yet sometimes even I still don't understand our ways."

"You look much younger. What is that scar on your cheek from?"

Tacitus hand went up automatically to the right side of his face, where he had inked a large swirl in the hopes that it would cover the old scar given by Otho. "Uh..."

"I'm sorry, Tacitus," Nona smiled, slightly embarrassed. "I tend to be very forward at times and forget myself."

He smiled softly in return, "I admire that quality, actually. I'm quite the opposite. I tend not to say much."

She laughed, and it was a pleasant sound that fell easily upon his ears, "Ah, now that I envy! Perhaps if I had been more like you I would be married by now!"

Tacitus bowed his head and blushed slightly, "Well, I'm glad you are not." He looked back up at her in surprise, "I mean, I-"

They both fell into a fit of shared laughter despite themselves and their current situation.

Tacitus then shook his head, "I can't leave you here like this. You will come home with me." He looked at her, "Well, I-I mean, if that's what you want."

"Yes, but," she leaned in closer to him and whispered, a mischievous smirk upon her lips, "won't they talk?"

His expression hardened slightly, "That is not something I've ever been concerned with. I learned a long time ago that you cannot change what people think of you once they've decided what you are."

"You know, I think I like you, Tacitus. I think we're going to be great allies," she winked at him.

He blushed again, becoming flustered, "Well, I, uhm, thank you, Nona. Shall-shall we return to my home?" He held out his arm and, smiling, she took it.

They stood and both walked, heads held high, across the village to Tacitus' home. No one said a word as they passed, but the whispers behind their backs were easily carried to their ears by the wind. Nona tried to suppress her smile as they continued to walk but, unable to, she started to giggle devilishly, "I have been a scandal all my life: the red-haired demon baby delivered by witches."

He looked at her wryly, "They really said that about you?"

"Yes," she answered matter-of-factly, "everyone in my village, all the days of my life."

They came to a stop outside of Tacitus' home. Nona was fascinated by the artwork along its edges and reached up to trace some of the symbols carved in the wood, "I actually recognize a few of these."

He was pleasantly surprised, "You do?"

She nodded, "I was taught to read by the village Grandmother. She was one of the few people that ever showed me kindness there. I enjoy reading but we don't, uh, didn't, have a lot of books, though."

"Well," the corner of his mouth began to lift as they entered the abode, "I might can accommodate you in that regard."

After she was given a chance to freshen up as best she could, they sat at the small table before the hearth and talked long into the night over a dinner of venison stew, bread and Two-Crows ale.

Nona yawned as the frogs began to sing their nighttime songs outside, leaning her head upon her hand as she looked over at Tacitus who was in the middle of a diatribe about the healing properties of Willow Bark. She interrupted him, "Why don't I just marry you?"

Tacitus, taken aback, stopped speaking, his jaw hanging open.

"I mean, we're compatible and we clearly enjoy each other's company," she continued. "So, why not?"

"I... because... you can't."

"Why?" she asked, annoyed by his answer.

"Well, I'm... I'm a widower. My-my wife died a few years ago-"

"And the Ways state that even in death you are still married," she sighed, defeated again. "Well, then I suppose there is nothing left for me to do but to walk into the desert and die or meet my fate with the forest goblins."

"No, Nona, there-"

"It's no use, Tacitus. There is nothing for me now-"

"No!" He growled. "You don't strike me as the type to just lie down and-and...wait! I have an idea!"

She sat up in her seat, "You do?"

"My brother!" He looked at her as a triumphant smile crossed his face. "Yes! It's perfect! He is the Protector of the Village but has never married!"

"Why?" she made a face.

Tacitus shrugged, "I-I suppose he's never had the time to find a wife. It's never really been that important for him, I guess."

"But, is he... pleasant... like you? I've enjoyed our conversations very much this evening. No man has ever spoken to me as you have."

He turned away from her and stared into the fire burning away in the hearth, "Severus and I are nothing alike... but," he glanced back at her, "he is a good man, an honorable man. You will be safe and protected and-and you won't be homeless! You'll be well fed and he has a lot of respe-"

"Tacitus," she placed her fingers against his lips, "it's alright. I believe you."

He smiled, slightly embarrassed, "I-I will go speak to him now. He is probably on night watch anyway."

"Thank you, Tacitus," another yawn escaped her lips. "Meanwhile, I think I will just sleep here for the night."

He nodded and then retrieved a large fur for her, moving the table to the side and placing the fur on the ground before the fire. "This will keep you warm and I will return in the morning."

"Thank you again, Tacitus. I will make it up to you one day, I swear." Still clothed in her torn dress, with twigs and dirt in her hair, she lay down upon the thick pelt and closed her eyes. Tacitus cast a last look upon her as she curled up before the fire. She was beautiful and every time she had spoken to him that night, it had made his heart soar like no other.

But he was being a fool, he told himself as he walked across the village in the dark to his brother's house. No one could love another in the space of a few hours. No, what he felt was intrigue at the newness of her being there, nothing more. He then pushed aside his burgeoning feelings as he looked for his brother.

The next morning, Severus, Tacitus and Nona had gathered around the tree in the center of the village. Nona knelt beside Severus as he called Seneca out. The crowd soon gathered a second time and Seneca asked, "Do you, Protector, claim this woman?"

Severus looked down at her, his face as stern as always and held out a hand. Nona took it and rose. "Yes, I claim her as my own, Elder. We will be married by sundown and her household shall join my household."

"Then it is official!" Seneca held up his arms as best he could and announced to the village, "Let it be known that Severus of Two-Crows, the Protector of the Village, has now claimed Nona, formally of the village of Big Oak, for his own. Welcome to our village, my child." He lowered his hands as the crowd applauded and hurrahed.

Nona seethed at their hypocrisy and Tacitus looked upon the pair with both joy and sadness etched across his face, while Severus' face remained a blank slate.

"No," Nona spoke as the memory faded, "I do not want that for Aelia." Her eyes, still slightly wet with tears, looked upon him, a profound mixture of emotions smoldering behind their green surfaces. "But she is the only thing that I am allowed to love in this world, freely and without consequence. He will take her from my side... just as you were taken." She grabbed him tightly in a desperate embrace as Tacitus bowed and kissed the top of her head. His voice cracked slightly as he spoke to her softly, "I'm... I'm sorry, Nona. For everything. I will always be sorry for the things that are beyond my control."

She looked at him and smiled, "And I forgive you, Tacitus. I will always forgive you." Nona reached up and gently placed her lips onto his.

No! His mind shouted as she did, but he did not pull away. Instead, he pressed into her firmly and lost himself in the stolen moment, reveling in the feel of her touch, the warmth of her lips against his. By all rights, his mind continued to shout, she should've been his!

 But she wasn't... and could never be.

No, the word replayed in his head and he pulled away from her. "I cannot do this, Nona. I - it shouldn't've gone this far. I apologize, please forgive-"

"Tacitus! Nona!" They both looked up in alarm to see Severus standing before them.

Tacitus paled as Nona composed herself quickly. She smiled sweetly and without so much as a gasp, began to speak, "Well, hello, my husband. I'm afraid that in a fit of anger, I may have branded your brother for life."

"Nona," he sighed, "you didn't-"

She put an even broader faux smile across her face, "I'm sorry, men, but I have womanly things at home that need tending. Goodbye, my husband. And, goodbye...Tacitus," she spoke to him over her shoulder, "I am... sorry for my behavior earlier." Her smile was painful as she walked away.

Tacitus stood, slack-jawed, partly in awe at Nona's quick and convincing recovery and partly in fear of his brother. Severus stepped towards him and taking his brother's chin in his black-gloved hand, he turned his face to the side, "Wow, she branded you well, Brother." He stood back, slightly ashamed, "I'm sorry, Tacitus. I must apologize for my wife's temper. I told her it wasn't your fault regarding my decision to take Aelia into the Order, but," he shrugged, "you know her as well as I do. That woman has a mind of her own. A dangerous mind."

Tacitus nodded awkwardly, "Yes. I-I do know that-"

"No matter!" His brother waved off the previous moment's events. "I came here for my own reasons anyway. Well," he stepped back, "what do you think?"

As Severus stood before him, hands outstretched, Tacitus finally noticed that his brother was wearing an entire suit made of black leather. Severus turned around slowly, the black cloak he wore waving slightly in the