Page 28 of Sword & Sacrifice

Why can’t we have that future?

As soon as he thought the question, he realized its absurdity. What was stopping them from joining their countries in a marriage alliance? The fact they were both men? They controlled the laws, they could change them if need be. Public opinion? It was already terrible, righteous anger from Arnsveld, contempt and suspicion from Bellacosta. A non-traditional marriage could hardly make it worse.

Silas’ heart pounded in anticipation as he pictured a solid future together with Archer for the first time. One where they could work together every day. Where he didn’t have to worry about Archer leaving for Arnsveld, possibly for forever. Where they shared affection in public as easily as in private because who could fault a married couple for being in love?

Silas knew it was idealistic and naive, yet it was the first time he could picture political maneuvers working for him rather than against him. He reached out, intending to pull Archer into a private room and explain his ideas.

“Lord Pryce and Mr. Tomlin requesting entry,” a guard said.

With a sigh, Silas’ hand dropped onto the table. “Well, now it’s really a party,” he said unenthusiastically. “Go ahead and let them in. Since the committee is all here, we might as well talk about next steps.”

They just had to make it through this meeting, and then he and Archer could finally plan a real future together.

Chapter Thirteen

Warm arms embraced Penn, his favorite way to wake up. His lips quirked in a small smile, and he traced one of the arms from elbow to hand, then twined his fingers with theirs. The steady heartbeat under his ear told him his partner was still asleep. He started to drift back to sleep … only for his bed to jostle sharply beneath him.

Suddenly alert, Penn jumped up, one hand raised in defense, the other searching his hip for a weapon that wasn’t there. With sleep still clinging to him, it took him a moment to register his surroundings. The interior of an expensive, lordly carriage. A dangerous mage acting as his pillow.

Valistair awoke with less violence. He simply opened his eyes, glanced around, and settled against the back of his seat, unconcerned.

The carriage hit another bump in the road and Niall cursed from the driver’s seat.

Penn shifted to the other side so he could look out the window. At some point, they’d left the main road. The side path they traveled was meant for sturdy work carts, not fancy carriages. If Niall wasn’t careful, they’d break a wheel and be stranded.

On the one hand, the more incompetence Niall showed, the easier it would be to turn master against student. On the other hand, Penn didn’t relish the idea of walking the rest of the way to Swallow’s Nest.

The carriage eventually slowed to a stop. It jostled one more time, then Niall knocked on the door. “Alistair, we’ve arrived at the river.”

Valistair opened the door and stepped outside. The midmorning sun warmed the mage’s golden hair and skin, a stark contrast to Alistair’s ice. If it weren’t for the single blue eye and the chill of arrogance clinging to him, Penn could have fooled himself into believing Valerian had wrested back control.

Penn joined both men at the river. Remnants of a bridge, long rotted away, clung stubbornly to the bank. Does this damn river have any bridges left? Months ago, he had to cross a section down river that had also lost its bridge. He and his horse, Scout, had waded across it with no issues. When Archer and the others crossed a day later, Silas had almost drowned.

Though that was more due to the mage standing at Penn’s side. He hadn’t been there to see it, but he’d heard about the ice creature dragging Silas beneath the water. Penn pictured the same frozen hands capturing him and drowning him in the depths of Alistair’s wicked plots.

“Did you destroy the bridges?” Penn asked.

Valistair glanced at him from the corner of his ice blue eye. “You didn’t expect me to simply let you run off with the boy, did you?”

“It cleared the way for you to take the crown.”

“Do you think it is that easy? The king disappears, and I simply step into his role?”

“Isn’t that exactly what you did? You had a glamour to look like him.”

The mage reached out a hand to stroke Penn’s dark gray hair. “Even the best glamours fade in time.”

“Still, you didn’t have to try to kill Silas. If you hadn’t sent the soldiers after him, he might have stayed away for years.”

“With years, he would have grown strong enough to take his kingdom back. I didn’t want the kingdom for a few years—I wanted it forever.”

A shiver ran down Penn’s spine at the calm admission. According to Valerian, Alistair was at least a hundred years old, yet he’d barely shown signs of old age. How long did ‘forever’ mean to him?

“Well, it looks like your own plotting has fucked you in the ass,” Penn said. His vulgar phrasing earned a scoff of disgust from Niall, but Valistair only arched a single blond eyebrow. “You can’t drive a carriage through a river, so I hope you know how to swim.”

Valistair’s lips quirked in challenge. “It always fascinates me when those untrained in magic can’t see it as a solution.” He focused on the river and stretched out his hand.

The current slowed and the surface of the water took on a glassy sheen as it began to freeze. Water from upstream splashed against the forming dam, adding to its height. As the water flowed and froze, the dam turned into a bridge.