He shrugged. “Abilash is a king.”
“Then he should find a woman who thinks that’s good enough.”
She saw the corners of his mouth turn up in amusement. He watched her, thoughtful. “What makes the Aleon king worthy?” he asked.
Norah didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure he was. What made any man worthy? His kingdom? His wealth? None of that mattered to her, especially now. Her chances of escaping lessened each day. There was fight still inside her, but she knew she would likely never make it to Aleon, or back to Mercia.
The day passed slowly, with the king drifting in and out of sleep. Norah watched him as he moved about restlessly in his sleep. What haunted his dreams? She knew what haunted hers. She was still lost, failing to simply remember. She was failing as queen. Failing her kingdom and her people. Failing Alexander. All she could picture was Alexander walking into a trap. If anything happened to him…
As night fell, she looked out across the village, seeing the houses filled with firelight. How wonderful it must be, she thought, to be with loved ones in the comfort of a simple home. Where there was no pressure of the crown, no vengeful enemies. How wonderful it must be to choose a life of the heart—these were the things she longed for.
“You didn’t answer my question,” the king’s voice came from behind her. She turned to see him sitting up in the bed.
She raised a brow. “There are many questions you haven’t answered for me.”
“Ask one, then. I’ll answer.”
She eyed him suspiciously.
“Truthfully,” he added. “I’ll answer truthfully.” His breathing was uneven. His strength was returning, but it still took energy for him to hold himself up.
“All right, then,” she said, biting. “What have you planned for me? Is it to kill me?”
He cast his eyes around the room, molding his response, then his gaze locked back on hers. “I have planned for you to die, yes.”
Norah let out a long breath. She’d thought she’d fear the answer, but it wasn’t fear that ran through her now, just sadness. A sadness she’d let down her kingdom, her grandmother. Alexander.
“Now my answer,” he commanded.
Norah’s mind was a blur. What did he want from her? “What is your question?”
“Why is the Aleon king worthy?”
Confusion flooded her. “Of all the questions you could ask me, that’s the one you choose?”
His eyes bore into hers. “Tell me why.”
Norah felt a heat come to her cheeks. This question felt most personal to her, most invasive. “You only have one,” she warned, a bitterness rising in her.
“What is it about him?” he asked again.
There was nothing about him. Norah remembered nothing, so she knew absolutely nothing about him.
“Why do you want to marry him?” he pressed.
“I don’t!” she snapped. She let out an emotional breath. She shouldn’t have said that.
“Then why are you?” he asked.
“Because he has what I need,” she said, relenting.
He gave a wry smile. “An army? To fight against me?”
“You’re out of questions.”
He snorted. “No matter. I already know the answer. I know what you need.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” she cut back. No one did. Not even her. A cold calm returned. She turned back to the window to take her peace in the dream of village firelight.
Chapter thirty
A noise stirred Norah from her dreams. It was light outside, early morning. She lifted her head to see the king. He was still asleep. She heard faint cries from a distance and rose quietly to the window. At the edge of the houses in the Horsemen’s village, she spotted a high-walled corral with a group of men trying to settle a frenzied horse. She glanced back at the king, who lay silent in his slumber.
Quietly, Norah slipped outside the house, looking curiously toward the corral. Shouts echoed from the men; there was alarm in their voices. She briefly forgot about the Shadow King and hurriedly walked over to see the commotion. A guard by the door made no move to stop her, but he followed close behind.
As she reached the corral, she slowed, her eyes wide. Men held ropes around a horse’s neck, and they fought to bring it under control. The animal lashed her head about, and a series of screams pierced through the air. Norah quickened her pace. She reached the enclosure and leaned against the thick beams, fascinated.
The mare pulled back against her restraints, and the men quickly drew together in front to hold her. A man approached her from the side, with a halter in his hand. When the horse spotted it, she tried to rear again. The man looked back at his teammates with a grin.
Norah became aware of a presence beside her. She didn’t need to look to know it was the commander, and she kept her sight on the men in the corral, ignoring him.
The mare tossed her head again and pulled back against the ropes. Norah felt the beast’s will to fight. Freedom was precious. Suddenly, the mare charged. She tore through the small group of men, knocking two of them to the ground and beating them with her front legs. Hooves met flesh with a sickening thud. The other men scrambled back, each pulling his rope, but they didn’t have the power to control her. The mare reared, whipping herself free from them, and set her sights on another man to her right. She rushed at him, shouldering him into the wall of the paddock, and whirled to find her next victim.
Norah gasped, stepping back. Her worry shifted to the men in the corral. Two of the men staggered to the edge and slipped through the railing, but one still lay in the center. Men yelled at the mare to draw her attention as others tried to approach the man, but the mare charged them again, pushing them back.
The man on the ground in the middle of the paddock stirred, reaching up an arm and calling out to his companions. His pleas angered the mare, and she attacked again, beating him viciously with her hooves.
“Why aren’t they helping him?” Norah said, gasping, to the commander, putting her contention aside. “Will they do nothing?”
He snorted. “And what would they do? That mare is more valuable than all their lives together.”
His words confused her. How could a horse be more important than men?
The mare let out an angry scream and pummeled the man again. He cried out once more and then fell silent.
“Help him!” she pleaded.
He chuckled. “There’s no helping him.”
Norah felt sick. If no one would help him, the man would die. She couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. Before she could talk herself out of it, she slipped between the railings of the high-walled corral. Shouts rang out, and the mare reared, screaming into the air. Men yelled what she surmised to be warnings at her, but she ignored them.
“Get out of there!” the commander boomed behind her.
She ignored him too.
“Get out of there!” he roared again as he started to climb the railing. He was too large to fit in between.
Norah looked at the mare across the paddock. The horse had backed away from her victim, intrigued by Norah’s presence, but stomped her hooves agitatedly.
The commander barked out an order to the Horsemen and, although the language was foreign, she could hear the vexation in his voice. Men climbed the railing of the paddock, standing tall with ropes in their hands.