He blinked hard and swallowed. "I did not mean . . . That is not why . . ." He shot back onto his haunches, the rage finding a fresh target as he said, "If you pass, I will kill my father. I swear by the ancestors and the goddess that I will put a blade through his heart, and I know that should be for everything else he's done, everyone else he's killed, but it won't be. It'll be . . ."
He stopped and rocked, rubbing his face. She looked at him, that oddly distant feeling growing, as if she was divorced from the scene and merely observing it. Observing him. Yet she did feel something, and she could not put a name to it, only looked at him and at his fear and his panic and felt an overwhelming sense of some nameless thing. She reached for his hand and squeezed it weakly and said, "I forgive you." Then, "For everything."
From the look on his face, she might as well have spat curses. His eyes went wide and he scrambled to his feet, dropping her hand.
"No," he said. "No, no, no. Not that, Keeper. You cannot forgive me until I've told you everything, and even then you probably will not, so don't speak the words. I do not wish them, and they are not true. You only say that in case . . ." His voice hitched and he shook his head. "No. In case of nothing. You haven't lost that much blood. You will be fine. So there is no need to say anything. I will get you water, and I will heal your wounds, and you will be . . ."
She passed out.
FORTY-ONE
Moria was not dead. She'd only lost consciousness, and Gavril hadn't let her lose it for long. She woke to Gavril's anger and Daigo's rough tongue, and the two of them snapping and snarling at each other. But she did wake, and after that, she tried harder to stay that way, because Gavril seemed to think that merely shutting her eyes was a sign of her imminent departure from this world. So she drank water, and let him clean her wounds and cast magics on them, and she endured his misdirected anger and curses--at her and at himself and even at Daigo. That was how he dealt with panic and fear and uncertainty, and she let him.
When the wound closed again, he ordered Daigo to stay put while he went in search of water. He found a stream nearby and brought back a skinful. She drank as he washed her wounds and bound them using the only cloth available--his tunic. She did rouse herself enough to argue about that, but he only snapped at her and she fell silent again. When he finished, he realized she was shivering. Shock, he said, and piled his cloak and hers on her. Daigo curled up beside her, but still she shivered, and finally, Gavril lay on her other side.
He did not exactly curl up against her like the wildcat. It was rather like leaning against a wooden board, Gavril as tense as if he expected her to sink her dagger between his ribs. But when she kept shivering, he pulled her against him and she rested her head back against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, and he told her she could sleep then but only for a while. She closed her eyes and drifted off, and the last thing she heard, after he must have thought her asleep, was his whisper.
"Don't ever scare me like that again, Keeper."
Having reached a horizontal position, Gavril and Daigo must have fallen asleep, thoroughly exhausted. The next thing Moria knew, a cry from Gavril penetrated her dreams, and she caught a knee in her back and a claw in her leg, as both Gavril and Daigo clambered to their feet, Gavril with his blade out.
Moria rose on her elbows, blinking hard in the dim light. There was one window in the room, but enough light shone in for her to see they were alone.
"Kitsune?" she said as she reached for her dagger. "Did you hear something?"
He surveyed the room in silence. Then he blinked hard and shook his head. "It was but a nightmare. I apologize for disturbing your rest, Keeper."
She watched him as he walked to the window. He'd sheathed his blade, but his hand remained on the hilt and trembled slightly.
"Gavril?" she said, her voice softer.
He didn't turn. "I am going to walk the grounds."
Before he reached the door, she said, "The nightmare . . . Was it of your mother?"
He stopped, his back still to her, sword hand trembling enough that his blade clinked against his short sword, and he pulled his hand away from the hilt.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I ought to leave you to your grief. I only wished--"
"He killed her," he blurted, still facing the door. "My father did that." He paused. "No, he had it done, and not because he couldn't bring himself to do it, but because he was too busy with his other schemes. Burying my mother in the dirt and leaving her to die was, in the larger context of his plan, a minor ploy."
The agony and bitterness in his voice pushed Moria to her feet. She ignored the stab of pain as she stepped toward him. She stopped a pace behind and said, "You had a nightmare. He would not--"
He turned then. "Would not? Truly, Moria? He tried to whore you to me as if you were a mere vessel for his imperial lineage. He tried to have your sister's throat slit to raise dragons. When those two plans failed, he tried to kill you instead. And I know, in the greater scheme of what he has done--slaughtering entire villages--killing you is but a small thing, but it was, for me, the true proof that he is responsible for my mother's murder."
"I don't under--"
"My father would not allow me to form other attachments as a child. That is why he took me from my mother to be raised by an endless parade of caretakers. An attachment to him was filial piety. To anyone else? A sign of weakness. When I was young, Tyrus gave me a puppy from a palace litter. My father killed it in front of me."
Moria inhaled sharply.
"It was but one of many lessons in the danger of attachments. I cried for the puppy, and my tears proved me weak and made his point. That is why I fought so hard to pretend I did not care about you."
"For my own safety."
He nodded. "But he knew. I could not . . . I could not properly hide it. I allowed you to be kept in a dungeon, but after the guard attacked you, it became clear to him that I cared. I believed the betrothal was a political ploy, as he claimed, but you are correct. He intended to see it through and force me to . . ." He swallowed. "Use sorcery or charms to . . ." He turned away. "That would be a lesson to me. Take someone I cared for and make her loathe the sight of me. And when that plan went awry? He subs
tituted you for your sister to raise dragons. A punishment both for forming an attachment to you and renewing one with Tyrus."