The Bloodbound by Erin Lindsey Page A

ready by morning.”
    Erik paused in his pacing, his gaze dropping to his injured leg. Alix could read his thoughts as surely as if he’d spoken them. “Not yet, sire,” she dared quietly.
    His eyes iced over, and his mouth pressed into a thin line, but he did not argue.
    â€œI will stay here with you, sire,” Raibert said. “When you’re well enough, we’ll join my cousin and your men in the Blacklands.”
    â€œI believe I’ll rest now.” Erik’s voice was tinged with bitterness. “I must build up my strength, after all.”
    The Greens bowed their heads as Erik turned and headed out of the study, Alix trailing behind.
    â€œYour Majesty,” she said as they neared his chambers, “if you would sleep, perhaps I might beg leave to say farewell to my comrades?” The idea of Liam going off to fight without her sat like a cold weight in her stomach, but somehow she’d known it would come to this. She wasn’t a Kingsword anymore. She and Liam would never again be joined at the elbow. That hurt more than she cared to admit.
    â€œOf course you must see your friends off,” Erik said. “I admire your sense of solidarity, Alix.”
    She walked away from him wondering why those words should make her feel so guilty.
    *   *   *
    Alix found her friends sitting down to a meal of roast fowl and fresh bread—a luxury they’d earned for their service in searching for Lord Black. She felt a bizarre wave of shyness as she approached, and she couldn’t quite decide where to rest her gaze. Inevitably, she fixed it on Liam, and was equal parts pleased and dismayed by the obvious hunger that crept into his eyes when he saw her. Fortunately, everyone else had turned to greet her; Liam’s hungry look, and his crooked smile, were hers alone.
    â€œOh, Alix,” Kerta said, “I’m so sorry we didn’t find your brother. It was not for lack of trying.”
    Gwylim scooted over to make room for Alix on the log he was sitting on. “I don’t know if Green told you, but I found clear signs of a small army crossing the marsh near Edin. Horses, riding in formation. Your brother rides at the head of that column, or I’m a fishmonger.”
    â€œYou’d make a terrible fishmonger,” Liam said.
    â€œI do hate fish,” Gwylim agreed.
    Kerta ignored the banter. “We begged the general to keep looking. Liam especially.”
    â€œPushed and pushed,” Ide said. “Thought he was going to earn himself the whip for sure.”
    â€œGreen doesn’t believe in flogging,” Liam said, his grey eyes still pinned on Alix.
    Ide shrugged and bit into an apple. “Figure of speech.” She’d cut her hair again, Alix noticed; it looped about her ears in ragged, boyish curls. Doubtless she’d done it herself, with or without a mirror. Ide didn’t like “leaving ’em something to grab on to.” She openly mocked Kerta for letting her hair flow about her face (“like blinders on a horse”) and was only slightly less scathing of Alix’s customary braid (“Give ’em a rope, why don’t you?”). When Kerta had pointed out that Ide looked like a man, Ide had only shrugged and said, “Fight like one too.” Judging by the scars crisscrossing her arms, that was Destan’s own truth.
    â€œThank you all for trying,” Alix said. “I know Rig is out there, and that’s what counts. I’m just glad no one was hurt. Green says the enemy is deep in the Blacklands.”
    â€œBold as you please,” Ide said, “considering how few they are. The Raven will wallop ’em soon enough.”
    Liam’s expression darkened. “Then what’s he waiting for? The Oridians have put five villages to the torch. They’ve looted every pig and goat and bushel of grain, and left the farms in ashes. There’ll be famine in