Redemption - M J Marlow (good book recommendations .TXT) 📗

actually chortling. “How frightened you make me!”
“I will see you screaming in agony, monster,” Tavin hissed, “for what you did to my cousin.” His eyes began to glow with anger, and he bared his teeth. “I shall rip you to pieces, Horis Tun. Slowly.”
“That will change nothing,” Horis replied, feeling the first weakness in his shield of superiority. “The Overlord is coming for her, prince Tavin. Your pretty cousin will be his!”
“You will be dead long before that happens,” Taryn spoke up from where he’d been watching the interrogation. “Cut him loose,” Taryn said to his man, “and give him a weapon and a head start.” He nodded to his son. “He is yours to hunt, Tavin.”
Horis was cut loose and he backed away as he saw Tavin’s expression. This boy was not who he appeared to be. There was something dark and intensely inhuman in this borderlander’s breast. He did not need to be given a signal. He was already running as the count began. Tavin moved out at the count of one hundred and his smile widened as he stripped off all his clothing, leaving it to rest at the edge of the camp. His eyes began to glow with anticipation of the hunt and moonlight glistened on his skin as he moved after Horis. He would hear the monster scream and beg for mercy before he ripped out his throat.

*
Marit rose the next morning and got out of the cart before Sysha could stop her. Her pain was gone now. The only sign that she had ever been injured was a slight stiffness in her side. She walked up to one of the horses and ran her hand along its nose. When she was younger, Willem used to take her and Susa on rides with him and his sons while they herded the cattle into the winter pens. She remembered the delight at being so high above the ground. Susa’s father had left her and Susa to ride freely on Susa’s pony when they were old enough to handle the reins on their own. Horis had ended this simple pleasure when she had grown from child to maid. She sighed and the animal nuzzled into her and she smiled, pleased that someone liked her. She heard someone come up behind her and turned to see Taryn’s son, Tavin, coming towards her. He bowed his head to her and smiled.
“His name is Windsprinter, Princess,” Tavin told her, his voice warm with pride. “This is his first journey.”
“He is a very handsome animal,” Marit said softly; “not at all like the horses we have at the village. May I ride him?” She saw his hesitation. “I tire of the cart, Tavin.”
“It is easier to protect you there, Princess,” Tavin told her honestly. “You do not realize how valuable you are to us.” He found himself leaning towards her. He realized what he was doing and pulled back, frowning. “You will have to ask the lord Taryn if it is allowed. For now,” he said as he guided her back towards the cart, “you should return to your ladies.”
Marit frowned, but returned to the cart. Sysha and the other ladies were making certain the bed was packed properly so that the journey would not be too uncomfortable for her. Marit tried to help them, but they shooed her off. She was not used to being waited on, it made her feel very uncomfortable. Why was she above work suddenly? She leaned against a tree and felt something sticky on her hand. She looked at it and paled as she realized that it was blood. Someone had been injured here quite recently. Marit looked around and did not see Horis.
“Where is Horis Tun?” she asked one of the men. He looked away uneasily and she knew something bad had happened. She looked around for the lord Taryn, but he was busy discussing the specifics of their journey with the cart driver. “Lord Taryn?” He turned and she caught his anger before he hid it. “I do not mean to interrupt…”
“No, princess,” Taryn broke in over her apologies. “Never apologize to me. You are my liege-lord’s daughter and, therefore, my superior.” Something in that seemed to irritate him. “How may I be of assistance to you?”
“Someone was injured in camp while I slept,” Marit told him bluntly. “Are they in need of healing?”
“It has been dealt with, Princess,” Taryn told her, wondering how she could have known. He smelled the blood and looked over at the tree. “Do not worry. The person is no longer in need of assistance.” He looked past her to the lady Sysha. “Your companion is looking for you, Princess.”
Marit turned and saw Sysha coming towards her. “No,” she shook her head as she saw the cup of water in the woman’s hands. “I do not wish to be drugged, lady Sysha. I want to see the lands we pass through.”
Sysha bowed her head and set the cup aside. The girl certainly had her father’s stubborn streak, the woman thought. The castle was going to see a lot of arguments between this pretty child and her sire before she was married and moved away. The cart moved off and they continued on the trail into the forest region. Marit was entranced by the way sunlight and shadow danced in and out of the trees. For the first time since she had been taken from the village, she felt at peace.
“You promised to tell me,” Marit reminded her new companion, “why you insist I am a princess, lady Sysha.”
“Because you are,” Sysha replied. “You were given into the keeping of Salas Tun and his woman when you were two summers old. They were told to tell you that your father and mother had died in a landslide when you were old enough to understand. All to keep you safe from your true father’s enemies until you were of an age to wed.”
“So you are taking me to be wed?” Marit frowned at this bit of news. “I am not even asked if that is what I wish?”
“Your father chose your mate the day you were born, Princess,” Sysha told her. “Your marriage will form an alliance that will strengthen the borderlands.”
Marit put her mind to some way to end this nonsense. She could not let them take her to an arranged marriage. She wanted that about as much as she had wanted to be sold to some man Horis had found to pay what he asked. Marit wanted, no; she needed to get away from these people and find her own way. Something blinked in the distance and Marit jumped from the cart and started moving towards it. She saw a young russet-haired man and wondered who he was; if he was even real. She could see his toned body struggling as he wrestled with a night black wolf, while a whip was laid across his back to keep him fighting. Someone grabbed her.
“He doesn’t want to fight the wolf,” she heard herself saying. “Someone is making him do it.” She pulled against the grip on her arms, her eyes growing frantic. “I must help them.”
“No, Princess,” Taryn’s voice broke through her trance. He caught her as she collapsed with a sigh of protest. He carried her back to the cart and gave her into Sysha’s care, a worried look on his face. “It is beginning already, lady Sysha. The Overlord knows she has been found and is casting out nets for her.” He looked down at Marit. “You will have to watch her carefully until we arrive at the castle.”
Sysha bowed her head low as the man moved off. He was right to be worried. This girl was the key to power over the clans and beyond their protective circle to power over the outlands. If the borderlands fell, there would be no one to stop the Overlord from controlling all in the name of his Emperor. The peace that the clans had built over the past century would be lost. Marit woke up a few hours later, as they were just moving on from a short rest break and started to get off the cart to stretch.
“Princess!”
She felt something whistle by her cheek and found herself being thrown into the bed of the cart by Sysha. The woman stiffened as something struck her in the back and Marit cried out as the woman’s pain hit her. She moved out from under Sysha and saw the arrow. Thankfully, it was not imbedded anywhere critical; removing it quickly was what was needed. Marit looked around for a knife and cut the shaft down. She did not know how she knew what to do, her mind and body just acted. Naji handed her the healers’ tools and Marit continued to work, keeping low as the arrows continued to strike.
“Hold her still,” Marit cried as the cart picked up speed as the horses panicked and ran.
She finished tending to Sysha and turned to see the driver falling, an arrow through his shoulder. She fought the surge of his pain as she saw Susa climb up to grab the reins and bring the cart under control. Her friend’s arms were aching, and Susa’s hands were burned and bruised, but she got the cart to slow down. Marit was shaking in pain as she went to the driver, who was being helped into the back of the cart, and repeated what she had done with Sysha. Only when every last person who had been injured was treated, did she finally allow herself to lose consciousness. Susa guided the cart into the small town on the banks of a river and stopped in front of the inn.
“See to the princess, Tavin,” Taryn ordered.
He swept in and commandeered the inn. The innkeeper did not argue. This was the lord Taryn of Stormkeep; no one argued with him. The little man watched as a pretty dark-haired girl was carried into the inn by Taryn’s son and taken upstairs. Five women followed, carrying boxes and bags. The child was someone of great importance the innkeeper realized, if lord Taryn was in charge of her escort. She was also related to him, for the resemblance in coloring was quite evident. He did not expect the lord to tell him who she was; Stormkeep men were renowned for being close-mouthed, so he put his mind to the puzzle as he had his servants prepare a meal.
“I was not aware that there had been any reports of trail raiders, innkeeper,” Taryn asked the man as he nodded thanks for the ale he was handed. “Word must be sent along the roads at once.”
“Jenid,” the innkeeper turned to his yardman, “see to it.” He frowned. “These raiders must be desperate to take on your party, king of Stormkeep.” His eyes widened as he realized now who the girl was. “You have found his daughter! The alliance…”
“May still be in jeopardy,” Taryn broke in, frowning at the joy in the man’s voice. How so many people could be blind to the danger an alliance between the girl’s father and the heir of Northfell would cause was something he could not understand. The tentative peace between his people and the rest of the borderlands would be in jeopardy. “My niece may refuse.”
“Refuse, king Taryn?” The innkeeper’s daughter, who was just laying down a large tureen of stew, a ladle, and several bowls; looked at the man as if he’d gone insane. “How could any girl, much less the princess of the borderlands, refuse a man like prince Justin of Northfell?”
“He’s been through here,” Taryn frowned. The girl was besotted with the face of the Northfell pup.
“They were here two