To The Princess Bound (42 page)

Thor met his gaze over their grip, and his fingers tightened.  “Depends,” he said evenly.  “Whatcha cookin?”

“Eggs.”  Dragomir bit off the word in a snarl.

“Eggs sound great,” Thor growled back.  His face, Victory noticed, was reddening.  “You using salt?”

“Got some chicken fat in there,” Dragomir replied.  Blood was dripping from his face onto his arm.  He didn’t notice.

“Sounds good.”  More popping of joints.

“Good.” 

“Fine then.  Go cook it.”

“I will.”  But Draomir made no more to turn, continuing to stare his brother down.  His face, Victory noted, was almost crimson, and both of their arms were trembling with the strain, their clasped fists white and shaking.

Suddenly, Thor cursed and loosened his grip.  “You prick,” he growled, yanking his hand away.  He started shaking it out, wincing at the white finger-prints that Dragomir had left behind.

Dragomir grunted and turned back to the house.  He hesitated only briefly when he saw Victory staring at him, then, growling, ducked back into the hovel. 

Thor sighed, then caught Victory’s horrified look.  He grinned, wiping a blood smear across one cheek.  “Guy stuff,” he said.  Then he followed his brother inside.

They were savages, Victory decided, watching them with a sort of morbid curiosity.  They took turns cooking while they washed and bandaged themselves up.  The water bucket was a grisly crimson by the time they had tended to their numerous cuts, wounds, and, in Thor’s case, breaks.

The healer, it seemed, wasn’t incapable of holding his own.

“By the gods’ sweaty nutsacks, Drago,” Thor growled, holding his nose in place over a towel.  “That’s the third damned time.”

Dragomir didn’t even look up from his food.  “Grow a stronger nose.”

Thor made a disgusted sound and glanced at Victory over his fingers.  “You hear that?  You see how unreasonable he is?”

Victory laughed.  “I’ve been dealing with it for a couple weeks, now.”

“If only I were that lucky.”  Thor growled and dunked the towel in the bucket again.  Seeing how opaque red it had become, he grimaced and picked it up.  “I’m taking this out to the river for fresh.  You better have those eggs done soon or I’ll come back here and gnaw off your damned arm.”  Still grumbling, he pushed through the doorway and headed around the house, towards the stream.

“Milady,” Whip asked from the sofa, “What just happened?”

“Brotherly dispute,” Victory said, disgusted.

“Some dispute,” Lion commented.  “It sounded like they were killing each other.”

“Pity,” Whip said.  Her gray eyes, however, were amused.

“How has Thor been treating you?” Victory demanded.  “If he’s been at all indecent—”

Whip snorted.  “Lady, even if he were, I could handle it.  I was trained as a Praetorian.  I can take whatever abuse that I am given.”

Victory frowned.  “Yes, but—”

“On the subject of the brothers’ behavior, however,” Whip said, “I would have to say that it has been impeccable, on both accounts.  Utterly polite…aside from leaving me in shackles, of course.”

“I can try to get them to remove the shackles,” Victory said.  “Will you promise not to hurt either of them?”

“No,” both Lion and Whip said in unison.

Amidst lighting a fire in the stove, Dragomir glanced over his shoulder at her, then at the Praetorian.  “You’re not thinking about freeing them, are you?” he asked, giving her a suspiciously raised brow.

“Why?” Victory asked.  “Are you afraid they might hit harder than your brother?”  She found herself irritated with him, but didn’t know why.

Dragomir gave her a baffled look.  “No, I think they might
kill
me.  What’s wrong with you?”

“I found that whole display ridiculous,” Victory growled.  “And next time you and your brother get into a barbarians’ brawl like that, I’m going to go find those keys and free my Praetorian to end the matter.  Permanently.”

Dragomir waved a dismissive hand as he stirred the food.  “That only happens once a year or so.  It’s been a couple years.  We were due.”

Victory gaped at him.  “You were
due?
”

“Yeah,” Dragomir said, “Due.  Like a big earthquake off of one of those monster faultlines that’s been quiet for a few centuries. 
Due
.”  He jammed the wooden spoon into the eggs, stirring it much more vigorously than was necessary.  “He’s got big brother syndrome.  Every once in awhile, I have to show him he’s stepping outta line.”

Victory peered at him.  “Did you really go throw a noose over a tree?”

“Oh for the gods’ puckered asses!”  Dragomir cried, slamming his spoon aside.  He turned to her, glaring.  “That is none of your business.”

Victory narrowed her eyes.  “I was chained to your bed.  My Praetorian was shackled to a timber in your living-room.  I think it’s my business.”

Dragomir suddenly found the iron handle of the spatula extremely interesting.  “You wouldn’t have been there for long, even if I had.”  His voice was a mutter.  “I had Thor showing up for dinner the next day.”

 Victory’s mouth fell open.  “You can’t be
serious!
”

When Dragomir looked up, however, there was fury darkening his features.  “You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone that important to you.”  He made a disgusted gesture at her chest.  “Hell, your heart rama has been closed for years.  Your womb rama was locked down since before puberty…who’s to say that your heart hasn’t been locked down at least that long?”  He jabbed a thumb in the general direction of the palace, scowling.  “And who’s to blame you?  With that cold bastard for a father, whose ramas
wouldn’t
be locked?”

Victory stared at him.  “Are you trying to suggest,” she managed, only able to produce a whisper, “That I cannot love?”  She was so angry that her stomach was clenching and she found her knees starting to shake.

He gave her a searching look.  “
Can
you?”

“Of course I can!” Victory snapped.

“Really?” Dragomir challenged.  “Who?  Who do you love, Princess?”

“My brother,” she said, immediately.  “I love Matthias.  I have since we were born.”

Dragomir nodded.  “And, as weak and as malnourished as it is, Matthias’s is the only active cord still connected to your heart rama.  Who else?”  He gestured at her guard.  “Your Praetorian?  They’ll give their lives for you.  Do you love them?”

Victory frowned.  She had, once, but that was before her ill-fated trip to the Academy.  Regardless of how much she tried, she could not dredge up the feelings that she had once had for the women who dedicated their entire lives to her protection.

When she did not reply, Dragomir growled, “What about your father?  He spawned you, taught you everything he knows.  Do you love him?”

“Of course not,” Victory growled.  “He assassinated my mother and tried to kill me.”

“And your chambermaids?  Your butler?  Your cook?  Your vicious little poodle?”

“Not anymore,” Victory growled.  “But I know what love is.  I loved my twin.”  As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she frowned. 
Loved?
  “I mean I love him,” she growled.  “He’s my
brother.
”

“And your heart rama is closed,” Dragomir growled.  “So you
can’t
love him.  Not until we open it.”  He yanked the spoon off of the counter and started stirring the eggs that were starting to pop and crackle in the pan.  “So you can’t understand what I feel.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, brother,” Thor said from the doorway.  He stepped inside and dropped the bucket of clean water beside the stove.  “You said yourself she has a heart-connection.  Weak as it is, it was strong once.  She remembers the feel of it.”  He turned and cocked his head at Victory.  “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I remember the feel,” Victory growled.

Dragomir lifted the skillet from the stove and slammed it onto a counter.  “Eggs are done,” he said.  Then, without another word, he brushed past his brother, out into the yard beyond.  Victory watched until he had disappeared around the edge of the house.

Thor heaved a huge sigh.  “Well, if we don’t find his stupid ass in a tree, then he’ll be back sometime after dark.”  He glanced at Victory, his blue eyes tired.  “How about we get you girls fed and I show you around the place?”  He frowned in the general direction of his brother’s departure.  “I get the feeling he didn’t take much time giving you the Grand Tour.”

Victory frowned.  “You actually think he planned on hanging himself?  From the moment he stepped off the ship?”

Thor sighed and went to the stove, beginning to serve up the eggs.  “You’re not the only one who’s broken, Princess.”

Victory stared at him.  “From the
beginning?
  He planned to abandon us from the
beginning?
”

Thor grimaced as he loaded the plate with breakfast.  “I think he’s been struggling with it for awhile, now.  Kind of teetering on the brink.  Meggie meant a lot to him, and the way she died, well…” he sighed and handed Victory a plate of steaming, half-burned eggs.  “He felt responsible, I’m sure.  He coulda killed that Praetorian as soon as he saw the bastard hiking across the mountain.  He
saw
the darkness of his au,
knew
the guy was a murderer.  But he gave him the benefit of the doubt, let the guy get close enough to answer his questions, and Meggie died for it.”  He started slapping spoonfuls of eggs onto another plate.  Face darkening, he continued, “And yes, my brother more than a little lost his mind.  He spent three weeks covered in old blood and flies, refusing to take a bath.  Me and three other guys finally had to cart him down to the river and scrub him down.  When he ate, it wasn’t enough.  Hell, I saw brains on the ground, from that gunshot he took.  It’s possible he just lost a screw or two somewhere amidst patching himself up.”

Victory glanced at the path the Emp had taken.  “Do you really think he’s going to kill himself out there?”

Thor sighed and slumped down beside the Praetorian, the plate in his hands.  “If he decides to do it, there’s nothing you or I can do to stop him.  He’s a smart guy.  Eventually, he’ll find a way, whatever we do.”  He started spooning eggs into Lion’s mouth.  “Frankly, I was just hoping a pretty little captive princess would keep him interested long enough for Meggie’s hurt to go away, but it’s looking like that was too much to ask.”  He finished feeding Lion, then moved to Whip.  “And besides.  If he is still truly driven to the brink, then we can both agree we really don’t want to see him when he steps over the edge, can’t we?”  He looked up at her.  “I love my brother.  A lot.  He is all the family I’ve got left.”  Victory saw Thor’s face harden, saw tears before he concentrated again on the fork in his hands.  “But he’s an Emp.  If he can’t keep himself from taking that plunge, then I think we’re all better off if he goes and climbs that tree.”

Victory swallowed.  The idea of an Emp that was out of his mind was akin to one of the AIs behind Space-Authority to suddenly losing interest in keeping the net of jumps from being double-booked.  For a long time, she only watched Thor feed Whip, unable to find anything to say.  Thor seemed satisfied with silence.

“How long you plan on keeping them chained like that?” Victory finally asked, gesturing to her Praetorian.

“If he doesn’t show up tonight?” Thor said.  He shrugged.  “Then they go free tomorrow morning.  This was Drago’s plan, not mine, and if it’s all the same with you, Princess, I’d rather you just take your two friends, here, and find another place to hide.”  He finished feeding Whip and gave her a flat look.  “If the Adjudicator found you here, he’d have every single man, woman, and child in a thirty-mile radius executed for treason.”

And, Victory knew, he was right.  Her father had a bad habit of annihilating entire villages that had defied him, and this one, after delivering such a grave insult, would be wiped completely off of the map.

“My brother doesn’t think about these things,” Thor said, watching her expression as he stood and went back for more eggs, “But I do.  And we both know I’m not exaggerating.  Were you to be found, here, today, everyone from me and my dimwit brother to the Cooper’s babies in swaddling-clothes would all be dragged to the center of the town square and shot.  For the magnitude of the affront we’ve caused him by helping you, the Adjudicator’s men wouldn’t even dig us a grave.”

Victory stared down at her cold breakfast, suddenly not hungry. 

“Eat,” Thor urged, as he sat back into his chair.  “If Drago doesn’t come back, you’re gonna need it.  I intend to pack you up and point you toward a hot-springs I know in the mountains, and it’s a long walk.  Especially with winter coming on.”  He ate, then, finishing everything that had been left in the pan.  Standing, he stretched, slapped his plate on the counter, and said, “I’m going to go check the goats.”  Then he ducked outside, for the first time leaving Victory completely alone with her Praetorian.

…And her plate of cold, uneaten eggs.

Victory set it aside, carefully, unsure how to deal with the current situation.  Dragomir was helping her.  She could feel that much, instinctively.  He was a healer.  He had proven as much.  But, if Thor was right, Dragomir was also teetering on the edge of sanity, so consumed with his own loss that it was driving him to the break of madness.  If there was one thing that she feared, it was an insane Emp.  She had seen what he could do when he was in his right mind, while trying to help.  If he were to lose that desire…