Page 92 of Ashborne Forged

I shuddered. He said the words like a fair and wise parent, informing a child.

“I was given choices today, and I weathered them. And you will do the same. You will choose to stay, and obey, and bear a child—and then choose the life you desire, just as I will. Or you will flee. And you will watch everyone you love be destroyed, and know you could have stopped it.”

On and on. For an hour he outlined every offense, and every consequence, as I lay on the floor of that swaying carriage, first trembling, then weeping at evidence of the cold delight he took in frightening me.

My mind filled once more with those images that had haunted me when I was in Fyrehold castle. As I walked each evening to the Festival of Lights, and watched the sparkling people, and their flirting, and their games. Knowing that in just a few weeks, I would be dragged to this man’s home, caged in his manor, forced to accept his body until I was pregnant. Then bear a child.

And if that was a success, or if it wasn’t a boy, I’d be forced to do it all again.

Even before I had a taste of freedom with Koa, I’d seen the years stretch before me, dark, dank, dusty, despair. An old, creaking house. Suspicious servants. No joy, apart from the occasional horse ride.

As Breckon taunted and threatened, nudging me with his toe any time I let my eyes close too long, until I gave up and stared at his shin, expressionless, emotionless… dying inside. Because I knew he didn’t lie. He didn’t make empty threats. My father had told me, as if it were a compliment, that he was a man of his word, and ruthless in business. He always did what he said he would do. And for some unknown reason, he had decided that I had to be his wife.

If I disappeared, he killed Voski. But if I did nothing… the coming years—the dark spaces, the lack of solitude, the duties…

I felt sick.

But the images wouldn’t leave me, and as the carriage rocked, my stomach churned and gurgled, until I was gasping.

“I’m going… I’m going to be…”

When I gagged, Breckon cursed and threw open the door of the carriage with one hand, yanking me up by the collar with the other, hanging my head and shoulders out the door, as I heaved in wave after wave, until I coughed, and slumped, the rutted road passing just inches from my face.

He held me there, by the hair, for some time, until the bile stopped coming up. Then, grumbling, he dragged me back into the shadows of the carriage.

He sat me up this time, still on the floor, my back to the seat where he sat, my hands still tied behind my back. He patted my hair as we traveled on.

“That better be travel sickness, not pregnancy,” he said softly at some point, still petting my hair, his hand beginning at my crown, then sliding down, like he pet a cat. “If you’re pregnant to that dog, I’ll cut the baby out of your belly.”

I gagged again, and he laughed as he threw the door wide and held me out there by my hair.

But there was nothing left to come up.

“Don’t worry,” he said, pulling me back inside moments later, when I flinched from his touch. “Soon I won’t have to hold you. You can just lean over and throw up without anyone making a mess.”

I was confused. Was he going to tie me to the carriage outside?

I stared at him, but he just smiled.

It wasn’t until hours later, as the evening sun slowly dropped toward the trees, gilding everything outside, and the carriage began to slow so that I hoped we were coming to an inn, or some way in which I might have a chance to plunge my knife into his throat, that I learned.

I should never have doubted him.

He always did what he said he would do.

When the carriage bumped off the road, it wasn’t for long. A few minutes travel on a rutted track before the carriage slowed to a halt.

Breckon grabbed my arm and dragged me outside into a wide meadow, surrounded by trees.

But that wasn’t what made my eyes go wide.

We were hours from the Keep. Koa had lost connection with Kham. But she remained close enough to speak with me, while staying out of sight, just to be safe.

When I caught a glimpse of dragon off the road, at the back of a meadow, my first thought was that she’d landed and they’d discovered her.

But no.

As Breckon pulled me out of the carriage and pressed me ahead of him through the grassy meadow, a man I’d never seen before, wearing jacket and trousers similar to our flight leathers, though not the Furyknight leathers I’d seen in the Keep, turned and saluted Breckon.