PULL ME UNDER - Warriors - Eighteen

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Eighteen

Tanner didn’t speak for hours on the road. He was too angry with everything, his head was splitting, and thought it best for Lauren’s sake if he just didn’t talk at all. It was the first time in a long time he had a strong urge to use.

Rudda had pointed out on the nice carved map where to find the camp, follow the river, easy enough. This wasn’t what Tanner was supposed to be doing. He didn’t earn his mask to be a taxi. He couldn’t even look at his sister. If it wasn’t for her being a mopey bitch they wouldn’t be out on the road. But, if he left her alone, like last time she was like this, she might vanish. He couldn’t live with himself if that happened again on his watch. Even if he was pissed off with her. At least at camp with the rest of the clan she had a hundred eyes on her all the time.

And to make matters worse, she had food poisoning or something, stopping what felt like every hour to dry heave or pee. It really slowed them down. He was ready to just tie her to his horse and bolt for the camp.

He made his threat as she leaned against a tree doubled over. “Next time watch what you eat.”

“I’ve been sick for a few days. It’s just stress.”

“What do you have to be stressed about?”

“Oh, nothing at all, you asshole.” They were silent again for a while. “Didn’t it bother you at all? Not a single iota of worry? You won’t be dragging my ass around forever. You’ll be on one of those fields one day and you have no idea what war is about. Real war. Didn’t you ever pick up a history book? Most those guys are going to die of infection. Like Antoll…”

Like Antoll. He swallowed that thought. “This is the hand we’ve been dealt and we can either play it, or fold, like your beggar friend. Accept it. You’ve had months to get used to the idea that we’re here forever.”

The way she tilted her head—she was getting mad. “I have accepted it. I don’t like it, that’s two different things. And don’t talk about Wyatt like that. He was a good person.”

“Sure.”

The third night, after a humble meal of salt fish and roughage, and after congratulating each other on how much they had learned during their stay, how Tanner could barely fry an egg before and he was still useless as Lauren cooked over an open fire (even if he was the one to set up the camp himself while she lounged, he pointed out) she slept early. A comforting little snore seeped out of the tent if he listened carefully enough, so he plucked gently on a new balaik, trying to remember the poem Rudda had been teaching him, but his head had been jostled pretty good. It was cold on his fingers, having taken off his gloves to play, but he didn’t mind.

The air was pleasantly crisp, the bubbling of the river and sharp cracks of thin ice as the water moved calming him as he paused his playing to take in the bright night. Hearty wintering birds puffed themselves, twigs snapped under the weight of sneaking night animals. Stars crystalled and moon haunting.

Tanner… Tanner!

He held his breath to listen, hackles up. Silence. Thinking it was Lauren, he checked the tent, but there was still nothing but her soft breathing. Not being one to talk in her sleep… “Lauren?”

No answer. He closed up the tent and set the balaik down against the rock he had been playing on. Moonlight bright on the frost and soft fire glowing down to embers. Hand at his belt, fingers brushing the hilt of his sabre.

The voice came again, calling his name soft and airy, feminine. It came from the river. Posture bent in a cautious walk he rounded the tent to look.

“Tanner, sing for us.”

“Ansa?” He froze. It looked just like her, but the skin was icy blue, dripping wet and shimmering. She was naked, gripping a tree that grew fallen across the water. He couldn’t breathe, his heart rupturing against his ribs. There was a waver in the air like heat over asphalt, blurring her features.

Hands came up out of the water, long and nimble fingers, reaching out and pushing free the floating bits of snow and frozen leaves, held onto Ansa to pull up from the water.

Minna. His throat clenched, the memory of the arrow through her neck had him shaking, but there was no arrow nor the wound to mar the ice-blue skin.

Their eyes had a glow to them, devoid of pupils. “Tanner, sing for us.” The voices tickled in his ear, all over his scalp.

Ice brushed his neck, guiding hair away from his face, and as he turned toward the sensation he jumped with a holler to see Irynna there, silver-fleshed and nude—he fell hard on his ass and scrambled backward, hands numb over the frozen dirt. Sweating and panicked to watch them come nearer, slow and steady, almost methodical. Wet, with seaweed woven in their tangled hair, bits of leaves stuck to their skin. But that waver, it mesmerised him and he couldn’t crawl away anymore, sinking his back into the thin snow. Irynna ran icicle fingers under his wool tunic, he cried out at the startling cold, teeth chattering. Her face came closer, lips parted and eyes sultry, frosted breath on his cheek as she pressed down to kiss him, the cold of her lips burning him where they landed. She was beautiful, even if she was hurting him.

More hands were on him now, undoing his belt and sliding cold palms over his abdomen, muscles clenching at their touch, up to his chest, a trail of pain. He could barely think for how much it hurt, and he didn’t want them to stop. “Sing for us, Tanner.”

“What d-do you want me to sing?” He could barely move his mouth to say the words, frost-bit thoughts, the three women pressed down on his legs and arms, kissed him with frozen lips, ice fingers caressed him, pulled at is waistband, traced lines over his muscles and it hurt.

“Sing us an apology.”

“F-for what?”

“You never leave any offerings,” Minna said, “so we want you to sing.”

“You’re… river spirits.” He shook as Irynna put a leg over his thigh, the only movement he could make, they had his hands pinned at his sides.

“We love you, Tanner.”

“We can make you sing.”

Think of a song, think of a song. He couldn’t, he had never listened to a single melody in his life. His mind was completely blank, every shred of a thought was interrupted by cold. Ansa kissed him, her tongue tasted like river water and he loved it. He wanted them all to keep kissing him, closing his eyes and returning her kiss with a throaty moan. He didn’t feel the cold anymore, head swimming and vision blurred.

Then all the beautiful hands released, a blast of trumpeted shrieks—he was soaked with stinking water as Lauren plunged a knife into Irynna’s back, retracting it and slashing the neck, more water geysering like blood from a severed vein. His eyes refocused and their faces were disgusting, fish-snakes with four rows of teeth and bulging black eyes, no hands at all. Two twisted to Lauren, bearing their monstrous teeth at her, the third that fell thrashing over Tanner’s legs screamed in a dozen voices at once.

He clawed at his body, trying to clean the slime and scales off himself while kicking the snake-fish off his legs, newly-alive muscles jolting with frightened electricity and disgust.

“Get the fuck off my brother or I’ll kill you both!” Lauren’s hands were steady with her threat, and the two retreated to the river’s edge and slipped into the water, dragging the third with them without so much as a ripple of disturbance. Tanner was still flailing at himself to get clean, jumping at Lauren’s touch as she knelt to calm him. “Do you do anything other than fuck? They were going to eat you.”

“They—How’d you—How—”

“Shh, don’t. Are you okay?”

“No!” His teeth chattered and he wanted to take all his clothes off and burn them to feel clean, but he couldn’t manoeuvre his fingers to do anything useful. Lauren used the hem of her skirt to clean his face. She didn’t shine like …the others, and he couldn’t see her face clearly, back-lit by moonlight, but he wouldn’t doubt if she was scowling at him. Left alone for a moment, his eyes stayed at the water’s edge, unblinking, despite the violent shivers.

She brought a brass lamp, the small flame near him was heaven. She wasn’t scowling—worse, she was pitying, like she did when they were kids, and tended to the marks the river spirits left, cleaned him calm and gentle. Brought up to a sit, she wrapped the blanket around him and rubbed the life back into his numb skin. She didn’t say anything snarky or insulting and he hated himself for thinking of her as a burden.

“Get to bed,” she said. He did as he was told, and she tucked him in, piling their few blankets on him, and finally went for the pee she had been holding in.

***

They kept a distance from the river, close enough to see it but since they didn’t know what to offer, they stayed away. Tanner was quiet, his clothes filthy but dry, is jacket packed away to wear a thick quilted coat to keep warm. He couldn’t tolerate the cold on his skin anymore, everything seemed to hurt him, though it got better as the days went by. A falcon screeching above them made him pause, looking around to see if he spotted any rider, but the bird was wild.

“We should be close,” Lauren said. “Horizon looks familiar.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Everything here is beautiful. Except when it isn’t.” She smirked. “You know that better than I do, now.”

“Shut up.” Even if he did laugh with her.

“You never did thank me for rescuing you from your, hm, watery fate.”

He considered answering her with a sarcastic overproduction of gratitude, but instead he only looked at her, smiled, and said a simple heartfelt “thank you” which seemed to surprise her as if she expected rolled eyes. They continued on in silence, he listened for falcons, and by nightfall they could see the lights of the watchmen and they both let their shoulders sag with relief that their long ride was over. They were asked a thousand questions about the moot from everyone clamouring to greet them, and they could barely get a word in edgewise to give any coherent answer, until finally Grandmother—the younger sister—came forth and rattled her walking stick to shut everyone up.

All eyes expectant, Tanner puffed his chest to announce pridefully how Ddun was voted as the leader of the Dvarri warriors, they call him their General, the nominated elders each an adviser, and their clan banner was the banner of the new army—to which the crowd all cheered, their excitement bordered on disbelief. The siblings were hugged and offered food and brought in to the central fire to warm themselves.

He didn’t see Irynna anywhere.

Lauren pat him on the knee to say goodnight and went off with Grandmother to talk alone, Tanner ate a spicy soup to heat his bones and listened to curious questions for as long as he could tolerate, before retiring to the warrior’s tent, empty of bodies but still decorated, and collapsed on a bed of fur.

***

Grandmother pressed a hand against Lauren’s cheek, a caress of her thumb wiping a stray tear. “Welcome home, my girl. I’m glad he let you come home.”

“I’m so glad to be back, too.” Her hands twitched on her thighs, until she was gripping her skirt and crying. They embraced each other and it was as welcome as holding her own real grandmother, that sweet feeling of pure, unfiltered comfort and it made her sob. She could talk about anything, no judgement passed, and she needed that so much right then. “I need to tell somebody, anybody, and I trust you, Grandmother. I love him, I love him so much it hurts. But I couldn’t stay there and have him worry for me.”

“Does he know you love him?”

“I’ve never told him.”

“What else haven’t you told him?”

Lauren pulled away as if stung, rubbing her eyes to free them of tears and knowing how ugly she must look to cry like that. She didn’t want to accept what the old woman was going to say next. It scared her to death. Her heart rattled. How in the world could she tell from five minutes of talk? Magic?

“How long have you known?”

It wasn’t real. There’s no way this woman could know. She was mistaken. It was just stress. “I don’t know what you mean.” She knew exactly what Grandmother meant because she thought of the chance herself every day.

Grandmother held Lauren and shushed her as the floodgates opened again, rocked back and forth as if she were a tiny child.

They had tea with spiced milk in silence. When done, Grandmother untied the blouse over Lauren’s chest, an unspoken understanding between the two women. Grandmother slipped a wise, leathery hand under the fabric to cup Lauren’s breast, fingers softly pressing the dense swell. Lauren winced at the touch, and at her pained expression Grandmother smiled. “I can always tell. Not every old harpy can be called Grandmother. How long since you last bled?”

Lauren gagged at the thought she had been avoiding, and couldn’t open her mouth to answer, which was an answer in itself.

“Did Ddun know, before he sent you home?”

“No… I don’t want to worry him, Grandmother.”

“And your brother?”

“God, no, don’t tell him! Please. He’ll be the first to tell Ddun.” She bit her thumb, avoiding Grandmother’s soothing brown eyes. “I’m so afraid.”

***

“Well, I’ve dropped you off, now it’s time for me to head back.” Tanner had fresh clothes, a wash, and looked spry despite his still-healing black eye and hints of toothmarks, his beard suiting him the more Lauren got used to the sight of it. To see him that morning, the gold sunrise marking his way, was bittersweet. She was going to be without him or Ddun for however long they needed to busy themselves in Kaddusk for, and this was all new.

The land around their camp was becoming overgrazed and they’d have to move on, he understood, they’d send riders out to Kaddusk soon enough to exchange news.

She couldn’t resist a jab at him. “Be careful out there, try not to get seduced by river monsters again.” She kissed his cheek after adjusting the collar of his coat and noted a tinge of yellow on his teeth, a bulge on the opposite cheek as if he were hiding a wad of gum.

“I’ll be more careful this time, I promise. Grandmother told me what to offer the river.” He pulled himself up onto the horse. He looked so natural in the saddle, born to ride like Dvarri horses were extensions of his own legs. And for the first time in months, maybe ever, she was watching his back, and Ddun wasn’t with her, and she stood there with her blanket at her shoulders and watched her brother go until she couldn’t see him anymore. They were fifteen, sixteen again, except she was the one left behind this time.

She didn’t tell him.

Grandmother assigned girls to Lauren as personal maids, very blonde, dimpled cheeks and pointed features, couldn’t speak Dvarri, maybe eleven or twelve years old and wore their braids in crowns. They had been captured from some trampled village. She felt awkwardly spoiled, and didn’t really understand why it was necessary. Ddun wouldn’t accept any less, she was told. The girls were miserable, Lauren understood why and she tried to assuage their fears by sharing meals and they became pleasant after a while, seeing that Lauren meant them no harm.

The older women of the clan were always ushering Lauren back and forth between chores and rest, regularly making her sit with Grandmother where she would be gently forcefed disgusting, apparently nutritious herbs smashed into paste, mixed with tallow and rolled into a ball, for the good of the baby, and it made her gag every single time. The smell alone was pungent enough to make her nausea unbearable, but at least she wasn’t riding. That had been torture.

The camp packed up to move on and she opted to walk as much as she could at the back of the train. Uncomfortably, Grandmother was happy about it, insisting it would make the pushing easier, and Lauren couldn’t bear to think that far ahead without a slick coat of sweat and dread tremoring her guts. Would Ddun be back by then? He had to be. And that made her nervous too, to see the look on his face. Would he be happy? Angry? After the time apart would he still want her anymore? Would he still love her with her body changed?

Would he love the baby?

Her nightmares were more frequent and vivid, adding to her fatigue. She chalked it up to her worries, maybe her hormones being out of whack. That same dream, over and over again, of the castle, though she still couldn’t remember all of it while awake. Little snippets of terrifying creatures, Meired’s face, darkness, overwhelming blackness that pressed down on her and she’d wake up gasping for air and reaching out for Ddun, but he was never there in the round tent full of other women.

Strangest of all, was the way those other women looked at her, how they pampered and preened her, but never rose their eyes to hers. Not the same as before, it wasn’t fear anymore, though there still was that shadow looming over everything, she was convinced. Her maids were the only ones who ever met her eyes, maybe it was some cultural thing where they didn’t know they weren’t supposed to.

She put in the effort to learn a little Stenya here and there, and they smiled more for her by the day. Dama and Aylet, cousins, already so mature. She supposed that’s what happens when you saw your fathers and brothers slaughtered and houses razed. Lauren had been told she looked old for her age, too, back then. Trauma must shine out through the eyes when you’re young, though she felt a little silly to compare her traumas to theirs.

Now they were bringing her smoked cheese and honey to dip, her favourite thing lately, and she shared with them.

A young woman from across the big tent watched them eat, long black hair hanging loose. Lauren had seen her before, but she couldn’t pin down a name. As Lauren caught the look, the woman smiled with a bowed head, and with a twinge of excitement like spying a long lost friend Lauren waved her over to sit and share the snack.

“You’re Tanner’s sister.” It sounded strange to hear that instead of something connecting her to Ddun.

“I am. Lauren.”

“I know I’m not supposed to talk to you like this, but I wanted to tell you, you look beautiful.”

Lauren blushed. “Thank you! And your name—”

“Irynna.”

“Please, Irynna, talk to me like this. I won’t tell anyone.” Lauren patted the cushion next to her and Irynna was all confidence and freckles, though she declined the cheese and honey.

“I need to tell you something, can they understand our words?”

Lauren assured her they couldn’t.

“Good. I want to go south to Kisku with you all.”

“I’m not going south,” Lauren cocked an eyebrow in question.

“Oh, you will. I want to be there with you.”

“With me?”

“Are you deaf?” Irynna was completely deadpan.

Lauren was so startled by the girl’s affront she just about died laughing. It warmed her spirit more than this woman could know. “Why with me?”

“Because someone has to stand up for you.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

Irynna smirked, her green eyes wickedly bright. “Say I will go with you.”

“Alright. If I go south, you’ll come with me.”