Page 12 of Thorns & Fire (The Ashes of Thezmarr #2)

Torj

‘During any conflict between ruling powers, it’s always the common folk who suffer the most and pay the dearest price’

– A History of Thezmarr

A S THEY RODE north the next day with Wren and Dessa in the lead, Torj tried to focus on the bird calls through the trees and the earthy aroma of the decaying leaves around him, but his gaze tracked Wren constantly—

‘Subtle,’ Kipp commented from beside him.

Torj looked away. ‘Shut up.’

To his dismay, Kipp did no such thing. ‘No one knows what happened between you,’ the strategist said quietly. ‘She won’t even say your name.’

‘Do you ever mind your own business, Kipp?’

‘Not if I can help it,’ he replied. ‘But for the record, Wren is my business. She’s my friend. We’ve been through a lot together, and I hate to see her hurting.’

Torj sighed, brushing the hair from his brow. ‘I never wanted that.’

‘And yet, you promised it wouldn’t happen. Remember? You told me and Cal you’d never—’

‘You think this is necessary, Kipp? You think I don’t hate myself enough already?’ Torj drew a sharp breath. ‘If she wants to tell you, that’s up to her.’

‘And you? Who have you confided in? You’re my friend too, Bear Slayer.’

‘I gave up that right. She deserves you more. It was me who...’ Torj trailed off before giving a sad laugh. ‘Sometimes it feels like yesterday that you and Cal came to me as scrawny shieldbearers. You could barely lift a sword. And you called me sir .’

‘Those days are long behind us,’ Kipp told him.

‘I’ll say. Now you’re just a regular pain in my arse.’

‘You wound me.’

‘A likely tale.’

Kipp stared at him long and hard. ‘When you’re ready to talk, Bear Slayer, we’re here for you too.’

Torj shook his head. ‘Just look after her, alright?’

‘You never have to ask me that,’ Kipp replied.

Torj admired how easily Wren navigated the sprawling lands and kept them off the main routes.

But then, she had spent five years after the war tracking down nobles all over the midrealms and delivering the Poisoner’s justice – that was more than enough reason to know her way around, to know the roads less travelled.

Still within the kingdom of Harenth, they followed a wide, rushing river north, passing by several smaller towns but not entering them. Torj ensured that his hood covered his silver hair and that his hammer was wrapped in canvas, but they saw no one on the road.

Torj was keenly aware of the others’ presence the further they rode and the less they talked. He stole glances at Wren, wanting nothing more than to get her alone again. But for what? To say sorry? Sorry for tearing apart that sacred thing between them? Sorry wasn’t enough – not nearly enough...

A horrified gasp escaped Dessa, drawing Torj out of his spiralling thoughts.

‘Shit...’ Kipp murmured, looking green.

Torj instantly saw why.

On a hill up ahead, three bodies swung from a roadside tree, hung by the neck, left to rot. A violent warning to anyone who passed.

Wren tensed in her saddle, but said nothing, only giving a slight shake of her head. Torj wanted to hold her hand, to reassure her, but there was no reassurance for something like this. They had rid the midrealms of monsters years ago, only to find there was so little humanity left...

As they approached, it became clear the bodies had been dead for a while. Eyes plucked out by crows, flies buzzing around open wounds, and the stench... It was foul enough to make Torj want to retch.

‘ Little rats, hanging for all to see ,’ Wren read aloud, pointing to a sign propped against the foot of the tree.

‘These poor people,’ Dessa whispered, her gaze dropping to the tools lying discarded in the dirt. ‘They were just farmers by the looks of things. Just regular men...’

Torj made himself look upon their corpses. He marked their wounds and what remained of their faces, before he decided he would be the last to do so. ‘I’m going to cut them down.’

He made quick work of the task, wary of the need to press on towards Delmira. There wasn’t time for a proper burial, so he stacked the bodies as respectfully as he could, surrounding them with branches.

Without looking at him, Wren stepped forwards and uncorked one of her many vials, tipping the substance over the gathered brush. When Torj struck his flint, flames roared to life, flickering blue as whatever Wren had used took hold.

‘Everyone should ride with their hoods up,’ Torj declared as they continued north. ‘Hide any notable weapons or possessions. There are spies everywhere.’

After a while, they could no longer see the plumes of smoke from the pyre. They entered a forest of towering oak trees. Gnarled branches and lobed leaves danced in the breeze, and beams of sunlight filtered through the canopy.

‘We’ll ride until dusk,’ Wren told them, not bothering to look back to make sure they were listening.

She had always been her own woman, but now Torj saw her as something else – a leader.

There was no uncertainty in her voice, no droop to her shoulders; she carried herself straight in the saddle.

He’d always thought fury became her, and the new scar across her cheek from the Gauntlet’s loyalty test made her look all the fiercer.

Their soul bond was lost to the wind, as Wren herself was to him. And it was all his fault. But if it was the only decent thing he’d ever do, he’d protect her from himself.

Feeling as though he were drowning, Torj grasped at the only lifeline he could find – he forced himself to look away, to pretend her presence didn’t still set his soul ablaze.