Page 16 of Upon Buried Embers (Upon Buried Embers #1)

Elf

My foot really hurts, and my fingers are turning blue, but I don’t complain. I don’t say a word. Breathing is too hard, and I can’t seem to get enough air in my lungs, but I do not, under any circumstances, lift my gaze to anyone.

We stopped briefly for a break, and no one said a word to me, not like I expected them to after I put their Dragonbond in danger.

Rohan walked past me and threw a waterskin at my feet—no food, and left me tied to Serah.

I watched him go over to Kaldar and some others to talk, Darcia among them. Adora was with Olaf, and she ran a hand through his hair. The hardened woman looked at him like he’s her everything, and I wonder again how that must feel.

Rhett, Darcia and Fiona were talking amongst themselves, and I murmured to Serah, apologizing.

Now walking through the thinning forest with more open areas and frozen rivers, I can sense some sort of relief hanging in the air. Murmurs rise between the Dragorie.

Black ribbons are tied around trees, like they’re guiding them home, and that’s exactly what it is.

“Nearly there!” Kaldar says as he rides past me, a grin on his face.

“You hear that?” Darcia asks. “We’re nearly home.”

“Finally,” Fiona sighs. “I need a long bath… and company.”

I ignore her, watching the rising smoke in the distance. A mountain settles at its back, large and foreboding, clouds curling at the top.

A dragon roars, and even that seems a happy sound as a blue one swoops down near Rohan, and he looks up, watching as it flies off.

“We’re nearly home,” Kaldar says, as he settles next to Rohan. He grunts out a reply I can’t hear, and nerves threaten to swallow me whole.

Once I’m there, that’s it for me, there’s no escaping. I’ll be there for as long as he wants me.

I look down at the knot at my waist and my blue fingers.

It’s no use to even try.

Drogonah roars, a rumble like thunder and Rohan lifts a hand. I’m confused for a moment, then a large shadow falls upon us. I look up at the belly of Drogonah swooping over us, and I automatically duck, his tail coming even closer and Rohan runs a hand over it.

Drogonah didn’t hit anyone, and the others don’t seem concerned at all.

Just how many times has that happened?

I can’t believe I’m looking at dragons close enough to even think about this. I’m still in awe and fear of them.

“They’re also happy to be home,” Kaldar says, confirming my suspicion.

“It has been a long winter, and it’s not over yet.” Is Rohan’s reply.

It isn’t.

“Drogonah needs rest after flying for so many hours, especially with how cold it’s been.”

“Are you telling me we’ll need to hunt when we get back?”

“I’ll help,” Olaf comes up beside Kaldar and places a hand on his arm. “I can go as soon as we’re settled in.”

“Be careful, the Wilds are restless and hungry,” Kaldar warns.

“Aren’t they always?” Olaf replies, and then rides off, Kaldar staring at him.

“Making it official yet?” Rohan asks, hand grabbing the handle of his axe on his back like he’s checking it’s still there.

Kaldar sighs. “I want to, just haven’t had the balls yet. Adora thinks I’m being stupid waiting.”

Rohan scoffs. “You are.”

“Hey.” He shoves his shoulder and I hold my breath, but nothing happens. “When are you getting married?”

“You know Dragonbond’s don’t marry, what we do is in our title, so you already know the answer. Never.”

“Stop harassing me then if you aren’t joining with another. But, come on, Rohan. Fall in love, have some kids.”

“My bloodline will not continue from me.” A tense pause follows, and Kaldar sighs.

“I wish better for you.” He sounds somber when he says that.

“Wishes are pointless.”

They are.

Kaldar squeezes his shoulder and then rides off.

I wonder why he doesn’t want to fall in love or have children. Aren’t he and Darcia together? Or maybe that’s one-sided.

I’m yanked a little as Serah picks up speed, and I focus on the ground, trying not to fall on anything. I don’t want to be dragged through the snow, and I don’t think he would stop even if I did.

He’s angry with me, and I don’t want to make it worse.

A little while later, those ribbons around the trees grow in numbers, and we leave the thick of the forest behind.

Tents lay everywhere ahead, going up to the mountain at its back.

They’re white instead of the brown they’ve been using.

Thicker and larger, seeming to have separate compartments with how they’re shaped with several pointed tops.

Mixed in are some wooden cabins, though far less than tents. I spot three at the bottom of a gentle slope, and then a single one higher up near the base of the mountain. A fire settles in the center of the camp, and there’s a large hill to the right.

As we get closer, I spot wooden poles sticking out of the ground, and some people are tied to them. They look worn down, tired, and I think some are even dead as they don’t move.

Shouts echo ahead, and I look to the side of Rohan, spotting a dozen people coming toward us.

“You’re home!” One shouts, running over to a man on a pale horse, smiling widely.

“Mother!” Kaldar shouts next, dismounting and going to an older woman.

“Calian, take the horses to the stables to rest,” Rohan commands.

“Already on it, Dragonbond, Tofa!”

“Coming,” the girl I saw with him follows, hugging another man as he approaches them.

Rohan dismounts Serah, and begins loosening the leather that wraps around her. I wait while he checks her over, watching Drogonah disappear to the mountains ahead.

“It’s good you’re back, Dragonbond, shall we feast tonight?" A woman asks, and I peek at her. She seems a little older, and her smile is warm.

“In a few days, Astrid. I’ll help hunt later.”

“Oh,” she flails her hands around. “You don’t have to do that, we hunted earlier.”

“Convenient.”

“Great timing.” She nods, and gives him another warm smile before she leaves, but not before looking at me curiously.

Rohan unties my rope from Serah and after a tap on her neck, she trots off to where Calian went, other horses in tow.

I follow Rohan as he greets others, questions in their eyes that he doesn’t answer as I’m pulled along through the camp.

Many must have stayed behind from The Pit because now there seems to be more Dragorie here, and my fear is ever present.

They head toward the traveling members, helping with the sheep and carts. Rohan doesn’t speak much, answering in grunts and nods, but they don’t seem to be too bothered by his lack of conversation.

I hear a man say he’s tired and to leave him alone to rest, and I guess he’s tired. Rohan doesn’t sleep much and he’s always on high alert.

It’s bustling with life here, and I take it all in. Children run around, mothers chasing them, others eagerly welcoming their partners if their heated kisses are anything to go by. My cheeks heat as a man pushes a woman inside a tent, her tunic already halfway off of her.

It all seems so… fine. So very… un-barbarian like.

I was told they rape anywhere, and kill someone if they looked at them wrong. That they think women are less than, but so far I haven’t seen anything like that during my time with them.

Yet. I think to myself. There’s still time, yet.

A man has some sort of furnace on a makeshift platform next to his home, hammering something.

Another is sewing, and another is tanning animal hide.

Further in, a group of people are cutting vegetables and placing them in wide bowls as they greet Rohan with a smile and a nod, relief on their faces that their Dragonbond is home.

How… strange.

My foot is screaming in pain with each grueling step as we continue up the hill to the very top, before we reach a cabin with the mountain’s base not far behind it. The steps up to the entrance are plentiful. It’s the highest point in the village, though a few tents scatter to the side and below.

He can see everything from up here, and as I turn to look, the view is breathtaking.

The fire in the center roars, a plethora of activity flows through the tents, smiles and happy tears, and in the distance, surrounding it all, is the snowy forest.

“Hurry, Elf.”

Rohan opens the door to the cabin and ushers us inside, and instantly I know it belongs to him.

Furs and rugs cover the floor, tables and an assortment of chests gather along the sides. A larger table sits in the middle, low to the floor with papers scattered on it.

Rohan doesn’t say a word as he pulls me further inside and through a curtain, where a door should be, and into what must be his bedroom.

A bed sits in the middle against the wall, also low to the floor and full of furs.

A post stands at the bottom, holding the roof up.

More chests line the opposite wall with a mirror and a glass bowl sat in front of it.

A firepit lies to the right, and I look back to the top of the pole where there’s some sort of flap.

Rohan yanks me suddenly, and I whimper as I put my weight on my sore foot. Now I’m out of the cold, I’m thawing and I feel everything.

He pauses at the noise, his eyes assessing me, but he quickly shakes his head and ties the rope around the post.

I still.

I’m tied to a pole like an animal, in his bedroom.

Rohan ignores me as he changes, and I turn my back to him, leaning my head on the pole and breathing through the pain.

It isn’t until he comes toward me and unties the rope that I blink out of my stupor. He throws a long shirt at me.

“Change.” He barks, crossing to the table and leans against it, arms folded.

With shaky fingers, I turn away from him.

I don’t know why fear runs through me, I’ve been naked plenty of times before him now, and not once has he even looked at me… but he’s looking now.

I feel the burn of his stare across my body.

What does he see when he looks at me?

Skin and bones, bruised and torn.

I don’t think he can see the scarring. Effy told me you had to really look to see them, that’s why Master liked me so much.

I squeeze my eyes shut and change quickly, his shirt coming to below my knees and I grip the pole for dear life.

I hear him move, and he grabs my uninjured ankle, tying the rope around it, then secures it to the pole.

I swallow, tears swimming in my eyes. He pauses suddenly, his fingers grazing over the bruising of my other foot and I jolt at the sensation. He frowns, head snapping up to me, then he stands and leaves, the curtain closing in his wake.

I breathe heavily, hands shaking and wrap my arms around my legs. Cold seeps in once again, and I look at the furs on his bed, but I don’t dare take one. Instead, I lay my head on my arms, looking down at the rope tied around my ankle and wait for whatever will come.