Except by breaking the curse. “I found the stars.”
Bannin scoffed and wiped his eyes, but rallied as if he thought Warrick was leading him into a joke and he was eager for a diversion. “Stuck in the walls of your cell? Did a friendly rat bring them to you?”
“An old haggard queen, draped in gold and a crown and paint.”
Bannin blinked. “I heard tell of a gold goddess being carried through the streets this morn.”
“Not a goddess—though she likely thinks herself one. She wears the rings.”
His friend’s grin was sudden and fierce. He shot to his feet. “Not for long.”
Warrick clamped his hand onto Bannin’s arm and shoved him back into his seat. “Go home. To Helana and Ouin.”
“Not without—”
“I’ll bring the jewels to you.” When he saw Bannin open his mouth to argue, Warrick headed him off. “She can’t be killed when she’s wearing them. She has to trust me. To give them to me. If you march in swinging your sword, she never will.”
“She’ll trust you? A hulking brute?”
“She wants to marry me.”
Bannin stared at him. “Marry you.”
Warrick nodded.
“You’re saying to me that some ancient queen came to your cell, fluttered her lashes and said ‘Oh please please marry me, you big stinking barbarian’?”
She’d puked rather than fluttered. But otherwise Bannin’s rendition was fairly accurate. “Then she bribed the warden to secure my release.”
“You’re tugging my prick.”
“It’s no jest. I am to kill her uncle and win her a kingdom.”
“Which?”
“Aleron. You know of it?”
“I do.” Disgust twisted Bannin’s mouth as if he’d gotten a whiff from under Warrick’s arms again. “It lies north of Galoth. Over the Glass Mountains. Ruled by a murdering tyrant whose only care is gold.”
“The niece seems little different.”
Bannin grunted in response to that. Then his eyes narrowed as he said slowly, “As I recall, when the curse first began the rumor in Galoth was that the new king of Aleron had stolen the stars—or that he’d hired someone to steal them. But those who were sent to Aleron reported that the jewels were never seen in his possession. And they would be seen. The rings have to be worn or they offer no protection.”
Rumor had not been far off. “They looked to the wrong member of that royal family.”
“Seems so. She wants you to kill him? He’s a dangerous bastard. Sorcerer, I’ve heard. And there’s enough gold in that kingdom to pay for what his magic can’t do, so you being impervious to spells won’t be enough to save you.”
“It matters not.” Warrick wouldn’t be traveling to Aleron. “I’ll have the jewels within the fortnight.”
“How?”
“She wants to wed in five days.”
“On Midsummer Day?”
Warrick knew not what day it was—yet that likely explained why they intended to wait. Otherwise there was no reason not to marry this same night. “She claims to be a virgin. I can’t break her maidenhead if she’s wearing the rings.”
“That is your plan?” Bannin snorted out a laugh. “You know nothing of women. Not all virgins have maidenheads that need breaking.”
“She’ll hardly know whether she does or not. I’ll pretend I can’t get my fingers in, let alone my cock.” Warrick didn’t want to get into her anyway.
Bannin laughed at him for a minute longer. “Good luck to you, my friend. You’ll bring the jewels directly to Galoth?”
“I will.” Dropping the queen’s purse onto the table, Warrick fished out a few coins—more than enough for a horse and boots, and a journey to Galoth after he had the stars. “Buy passage on the river. Do what you like with the rest.”
The river route would carry his friend home—to Helana and Ouin—much faster than traveling by road.
Bannin took the purse, eyes widening when he hefted its weight. “She gave you this?”
“Her man-at-arms did.”
“Did he want you to run?”
Warrick hadn’t considered that. He’d assumed it was a test of his honor. But Iarthil had also pushed him from the queen’s bed at every turn. Mayhap the serjeant feared that another warrior would usurp his place at the queen’s side.
But it mattered little, since the queen would soon be dead.
The sound of a ragged breath pulled Warrick from his ponderings of all the satisfying ways he might kill her. Bannin was staring off into the distance, eyes glistening, his throat working.
“All that time we spent searching for those jewels. Every rumor we chased leading to nothing except ghosts and the evil bastards we had to put down with our blades. All those years, and now it’s your cock that’ll break the curse.” He shook his head, gave a mirthless laugh. “I ought to have known how it would be. While waiting for the ship and keeping those people hidden from Gleris, and with you stuck in that prison, then reading Helana’s letter—I’d begun to regret…well, not regret freeing them. But that helping them had halted the search. And resenting that it was all taking so long. Then I’d hear you in my head, saying ‘you’ll never regret doing what’s right’ along with all the rest of your son-of-a-witch Dead Lands horseshit. So many nights I spent lying awake, my fingers turning to stone, wishing you would shut your mouth. Yet if we hadn’t helped those people, if waiting for the ship hadn’t delayed us and kept us in Torrath, we wouldn’t have been here at the same time as this queen.”
“Be certain I’ll be saying that horseshit more often now.”
The laugh that broke from Bannin ended on a breath like a sob. “The jewels are the stars?”
The desperate hope in his friend’s eyes wrenched at Warrick’s heart. “I’ll bring them to you, brother. This I vow to you. By summer’s end, I’ll deliver the jewels to Galoth. Along with her golden head.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Bannin lifted his mug. “To doing what’s right?”
Warrick grunted his approval. “To doing what’s right.”
And to breaking curses with his cock.
Elina the Breathless
The Falls
“We are nearing the camp, Your Highness,” Serjeant Iarthil announced from his mounted position beside the carriage, rousing Elina from stupor to anticipation.
The camp was one they’d used before. The site was well-situated at the base of an escarpment, over which tumbled three streams that splashed into a wide pool before narrowing into a single river. A cooling mist continually drifted off the waterfalls. Colorful flowers blossomed upon every cliff ledge, their fragrances gently perfuming the breeze. If Elina’s strength allowed, she hoped to sit upon the small boulders that ringed the pool, breathing in that lush air.
Her strength would likely not allow. With every rut and bump in the road, the tonic sloshed uneasily in her stomach. The sun beat down upon the roof of the carriage and, despite opening the curtains, the air within was stifling. In her brocade and paint, Elina could hardly breathe or move, as if she were being slowly smothered by the queen’s raiments.