Redemption, M J Marlow [best way to read ebooks TXT] 📗

her eyes on him as he came at her. “I will hurt you if you touch me!” If a wolf could laugh, then that was what Tavin did next. “I am not going to let you do this to me!”
Tavin stiffened and she heard them then; horses coming in their direction. Marit started towards them and Tavin pushed her down on the ground, hard enough to daze her. The branch fell from her hands and she tried desperately to get it back in her hands. Tavin clamped his hand over her mouth and pulled her to her feet, pressing her wrists together. He hefted her over his shoulder and ran; away from the horses. When he finally stopped, they were at a waterfall. He carried her behind it and dumped her in the back of the small cave hidden by the curtain of water. Then he shifted and laid at the opening, glaring at her. When she tried to get up, he growled at her softly. Marit sank back down, knowing he would hurt her if she made any noise or did anything else he did not approve. She dozed off and did not see him leave her. All she knew was that she woke up with her cloak covering her, and Tavin was dressed once more.
“I will not press the issue, cousin,” he told her as he saw the anger in her eyes. “Just don’t rule out the possibility before you see what you are being offered.”
“You still mean to take me to Stormkeep?” Marit cried in protest. “No, Tavin. You must take me home to my father.”
“I can’t, cousin,” Tavin told her. “I scouted the area while you were sleeping, and we are cut off by a man who works for the Emperor, one of your father’s enemies. He is called Barnabas of Atherton. If we try to go back, we will be taken. And if that one gains a foothold through you in the borderlands,” he said as he showed her the first sign of real fear she had ever seen in him, “he will make Northfell’s atrocities seem quite gentle by comparison.”
He held his hand out and they left the cave as quickly and quietly as they could. For several hours they managed to keep ahead of their pursuers. Marit was impressed, despite her fear, by her cousin’s abilities. He had been right when he told her there were advantages to being a shape shifter. That did not make her want it for herself, however. He caught her as she tripped over a fallen branch and frowned when she pulled away from him as quickly as she could.
“I will not force you, little cousin,” Tavin told her. “You can quit looking at me like I’m going to eat you.”
“I’m sorry, Tavin,” Marit apologized, but maintained her distance. “I’m not used to being treated like the prize in a game of fetch and carry.” She saw his hurt look. “You must admit that you have not truly stopped to consider what your decisions are doing to me, cousin.” She held up her still shackled wrists. “Is this really necessary?”
“If you give word that you will not try to run,” Tavin said as he locked eyes with her, “and will listen to me as we try to cut around our pursuers; they will stay open.”
Marit nodded and they continued to move through the forest, after he opened the shackles. They came out near a river and paused just long enough to catch their breath. Then Tavin pulled her to her feet and they moved on. Marit did not know the lands they were moving through. She was totally lost, and dependent on a cousin who wanted to turn her into a monster to guide her through it. She was being unkind; she knew he was serious about his belief that doing so would help her, not harm her. She watched him carefully as they continued on their mad dash, and he did not try to force her to make the decision he wanted her to make once.
“Tell me what it’s like, Tavin,” Marit asked as they hid among the shadows during a rainstorm and watched a band of six men ride by.
“What it’s like?”
“Becoming a wolf,” Marit whispered, keeping her voice low to keep from being overheard. “Does it hurt?”
“The first time,” Tavin said to her, encouraged by her curiosity, “it is agony unending; or seemingly so. But very soon, it is just slipping from two legs to four without even a twinge of pain.” He pushed her hair out of her eyes, smiling at her warmly. “It does not change who you are, little cousin. There is no demon that overtakes your mind and body. You simply become something else.”
“Why?” Marit asked him bluntly. She saw his confusion. “Surely you’ve thought such things yourself…”
“No,” Tavin shook his head, laying his fingers over his lips as she heard something. His head went up and she could tell he was testing the scents in the air, using the abilities gained through his dual nature. “Our men,” he said in relief. A moment later the four men joined them and he listened as they made their reports. “They have cut off our route to Stormkeep and Sylvan Ford now. There is only one road open and they will most assuredly be watching it.” He looked at his men. “We are not far from Fellstone now. Scout ahead and see if the back trails are clear for us.”
“That is where the lord Edmund and his sister, Naji, are from,” Marit smiled. She felt a flood of relief fill her. “Surely we’ll be safe there.”
“We can hope to be safe there,” Tavin replied darkly, “but one never knows what will come across their trail in such uncertain times as these.” He pulled her cloak closer around her and settled back. “You said something in your trance that puzzled me, cousin.”
“Prince Justin is being forced to keep up the feud,” Marit told him what he was probably meaning to ask. “He has no more wish to break alliances in the borderlands than you do.” She thought it over. “I think that someone is doing all they can to make certain that Stormkeep and Northfell fall into outright conflict.” She saw his expression. “You know more of these lands and their histories than I do, Tavin. Who would gain from such a break?”
“Northfell, if they won the conflict,” Tavin told her truthfully, “and the forces of the Emperor and his foul Overlord who are currently making incursions into our lands to test our defenses and alliances. And, I’m afraid,” he continued as he looked into her eyes, “your own cousin.”
“Rafel?” Marit asked, stunned by this information. “What would he gain if the borderlands fell?”
“Your throne,” Tavin told her. “It is all he has ever wanted. The attack on the road as we traveled here had his mark on it.”
“He tried to kill me?” Marit shook her head. “He was with us, Tavin. He took an arrow himself.”
“What better way to draw off suspicion?” He pulled some travel rations out of his pack and handed her a piece. “I’m sorry it is not finer fare, cousin, but until we are away from our pursuers, it will have to do.” He could hear the rain slowing now and he relaxed further. “Tell me of your life in the village, cousin. Was it all nightmare?”
For the next few hours they shared stories of their upbringing. Tavin was amazed at the tortures his young cousin had endured at the hands of Horis Tun. He was glad now that he had ripped the man apart as he had. Such an animal should have been ended long before he could torture a child. But she had not been damaged by it; if anything it had made her stronger. His respect for the pretty girl mounted and he began to wonder if he and his father might not have been wrong. What could she have faced at Northfell that was any worse than what she had already endured? His head came up as he caught a scent and he frowned.
“Stay close, cousin,” he whispered as he helped her to her feet slowly. “We are about to have company.”
Marit could feel Tavin’s anger as he held her hand in his. Why did they not just run? Tavin moved in front of her as a tall man with white blond hair and black eyes stepped out of the shadows. A man grabbed Marit from behind and pulled her away and Tavin turned to help her. He fell as the other four men moved in and struck him down. The intruder smiled as his man brought Marit up to him. He ran his fingers along her cheek and Marit flinched as if his touch burned her. His smile was wide with pleasure as he saw her eyes blazing with anger.
“You are very lovely, princess,” he said as his man pressed the shackles closed behind her back. “I can see why your cousin went to such lengths to protect you.” He looked down at Tavin. “The beast is to be locked in form and put in a cage,” he told his men. He led Marit to where their horses were waiting and he mounted his night black stallion. Marit was handed up to him and she shuddered as his arm went around her, pulling her close against his body. “You will learn to enjoy my touch, lovely one.”
Marit closed her eyes a moment to fight the tears. The man holding her captive looked down at her bowed head and smiled. Were this his daughter, he found himself thinking, she would have been placed in a chamber in the very heart of the fortress where no one could approach her after the first abduction attempt. They stopped at an inn for the night several hours later and he handed her down to his lieutenant. He pulled a cloak out of his saddlebag and wrapped it around her, hiding her bonds from prying eyes.
“We shall rest our heads here for the night, princess,” he whispered as he leaned close to her. “I apologize for continuing the use of the bonds,” he continued as he led her inside; his grip causing pain, “but my lord is quite insistent that you arrive at my fortress without further incident.”
Marit looked around the small room, with only the bed, a table and a chair as furnishings. There was a door to one side of a fireplace, and a window. She was dumped on a chair by the window and the hood of the cloak was lowered off her head. Her captor was smiling at her. She heard a familiar voice calling out and turned her head to see Justin riding in with his cousin and the lords of her personal escort. Marit’s scream died as Barnabas pulled her to him and held his blade against her cheek. He leaned his cheek against hers and she stiffened in anger at this familiarity.
“It would appear that your erstwhile suitor is quite eager to find you, Princess,” the man laughed softly as he saw Justin and the other young lords look up and see a man and a woman in seeming embrace in the shadows above. “So close, he is,” he taunted her, as he pulled her struggling body closer to his, “could you but alert him to your presence.” He looked over at his man. “Prepare the drug, Tovik. We must keep the little lady calm this night.”
Marit kicked and struck out at him with her bound wrists. He clamped his hand on her throat and she stiffened. By the time she recovered her wits, the end of the rope he tied around her already