Chapter 8

  “But you carry the seal of your King and his General,” Kerhi stated. “Our Warchief granted you a rank not given to those outside of someone of your King’s or General’s position. How can a man, your age or any age, be alone?”

  Her question bothered Francis more than he had expected. She had somehow, in mere moments, pricked at a wound that was always raw.

  He sighed, unsure if he wanted to spend the night sharing his feelings and position with a woman that he would most likely have to redo all of this with multiple times, or if he wanted to put it off until another loop, after he knew more.

  I guess my only option is to shut her down and then deal with the Jarl outside or at least start this process now.

  Knowing tonight was going to be a long night either way, Francis opted for the one that involved the barbarian across from him.

  “I’m a ninth son,” Francis replied. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

  Kerhi winced, slowly nodding her head. “I do… which makes me even more curious. Don’t your people kill someone of your birth order and eat them?”

  Francis felt his jaw open, trying to find the words to respond with when Kerhi’s face changed from the pained one to her roaring with laughter.

  “Oh… your kind!” she exclaimed between laughs. “Believe… everything…”

  “I’m not sure if that was honorable or not, but you got me,” Francis said, shaking his head and smiling. “No… they don’t usually eat their children. But it does mean I’m worthless in so many ways.”

  “Yet you have the King’s and General’s seal,” Kerhi replied, tempering her laughter. “That is not something a worthless one has.”

  “Special circumstances,” Francis replied. “The only family I have is my brother who is back with the army and everything I do is to keep him safe and alive.”

  “A brother? Younger?”

  “No, he’s older and technically my half-brother,” Francis said. “I’m sure you noticed my white hair.”

  “We have a few who are close to that color. It is not uncommon, but I did notice it. White like a snow rabbit’s pelt.”

  “Yeah…” Francis said, unsure if she was teasing or simply pointing out a fact. “So my mother slept with another man and my brother, Michael’s hair isn’t white. Every child born of my family’s blood is white.”

  “So how does this matter?” Kerhi asked, leaning forward again.

  Taking a deep breath, Francis prepared himself to talk about things he often didn’t like discussing. Yet for some reason, he felt he could with her.

  ---

  “I understand now,” Kerhi said softly. “To live like that and to have endured so much. While my father is not known, the clan raised me and the Shamans took me in when I showed promise. For a while I had a family, but now… I am a lone wolf.”

  “And why is that?” Francis asked, guessing at the answer. “Because of how strong you are?”

  Kerhi winced and shook her head. “No… they like the power I possess. It is my hunger for battle and blood that scares them. When it overcomes me, I cannot stop until I have defeated whatever is before me. Sometimes I have pushed deeper into the enemy than I should and it has cost many of my brothers and sisters their lives.”

  Francis could see the shame in her eyes as she sat there, staring up at the roof.

  “I… I long to hold the heart of my foe in my hands, and many times will eat part of it to absorb their power.”

  “Wait… you do that often?” Francis asked, unsure if he should feel special that she had done that to him or it was a normal thing she did which meant nothing.

  “I know… many fear me because of that. The whole camp knows to not dishonor me or challenge me. Even Warchief Glitvall would not do so. Not because I would win, but because he would have to kill or seriously injure me before I would leave the state I am in.”

  So… simply knocking her out wasn’t going to be an option…

  Francis chuckled and nodded. “I get it. Trust me I do.”

  “Because you enter a state of rage and scare those closest to you?”

  “No,” Francis replied, shaking his head. “Because I have a power that scares many and they know it’s useful. They try to shape how I use it to reach their goals, while I try to find a way to grow stronger and keep those that I love safe.”

  Kerhi’s left eye had a tear form, the small droplet of liquid rolling down her cheek when she blinked.

  “That is why you look at me differently,” she replied. “You know what it is like.”

  Ready to kick himself for what he was about to do, Francis used a hand to rub his face, groaning softly. “No… it’s not just that. There’s more.”

  “More?” Kerhi asked, a blond eyebrow lifting as she cocked her head.

  “I’m… going to tell you something and share a secret. All I ask is that you swear to tell no one until I say you can. Only a few know this secret–”

  “I swear by my life, my power, and my honor,” Kerhi said, placing a hand over her heart. “If I break it, my life is yours to do with as you wish and may our gods slay me if I break this oath.”

  Francis felt a shift around Kerhi, as threads of some kind moved and somehow shaped themselves.

  “Did something… magical just happen?” Francis asked.

  “I swore an oath, and I invoked the three words,” Kerhi replied. “Our gods have heard and the oath will be held fast. If you call it magic, so be it. We call it the binding of our souls.”

  Some weird stuff… I can’t even imagine what that would be like… sensing a god in my body.

  “I guess that promise works then,” Francis stated. “So let me tell you what makes me special.”

  He leaned forward, smiling as he spoke. “I can’t stay dead.”

  ---

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Francis wasn’t certain how many hours had passed, but finally, the never-ending barrage of questions Kerhi unleashed ended. Her last one was still there, and he needed to answer it.

  “So… I wouldn’t say that I cheated by how I used your name or the previous loops against you,” Francis replied. “I earned it. Even if you ripped out my heart before I stabbed you in the back.”

  “A fair exchange and a mistake on my part,” Kerhi replied. “One, I will do my best to remember if we fight again.”

  “But you won’t,” Francis replied, frowning. He felt the pain of knowing that for a few hours, he had connected with someone in a way that he hadn’t for so long. All those deaths had been harder than he would admit. Seeing his brother every morning, hearing the same words, and having to endure the constant explaining of what was going on was harder than just dying.

  It was a reminder that, in some ways, he was alone in a way none would ever know.

  “I realize that,” Kerhi stated, rolling her eyes. “I was just teasing you. Don’t people from your kingdom do that?”

  Groaning, Francis couldn’t help but smile and nod. “We do… I guess I just wasn’t expecting so much joking from you.”

  Kerhi shrugged and then stood. “It is later than I had intended to stay. I should leave before word spreads around the camp that I stayed all night in your place.”

  “And that would be a bad thing?” Francis asked, standing also and suddenly closer than he had expected.

  She smiled and lifted a hand, patting his cheek. “You are an interesting man, Francis, but it will take more than a few hours to pull that feat off. Even though I won’t remember it, I hope that you do seek me out. I can confirm this conversation was good. For both of us.”

  Glabbing his chest, Francis winced as if he was in pain.

  “Does something hurt?” Kerhi asked.

  “Sorry,” Francis said, pretending to be hurt and holding up a hand. “It’s just… being put into the friend category so fast… it hurts.”

  She shoved him, and his position had left him unprepared for the force that she used, finding himself flung onto the bed. Looking up at her, Francis saw her bite her lip for a moment before shaking her head and moving toward the tent flap.

  “You best not tell stories of what took place in here,” Kerhi said. “Or I might just have to rip your heart out again.”

  “Wait,” Francis said, holding up his hand as she was going to move the hides aside so she could leave. “Would you…” He stopped himself and shook his head. “Never mind.”

  Kerhi’s eyebrows scrunched into almost one as she frowned. “What were you going to say? Did you get cold feet?”

  Shaking his head, Francis regained his composure and stood.

  “I… I was going to ask you if there was something you could tell me. A pet name, a special word, some kind of phrase, so that we meet in another loop and talk, you’d know that what I say is true and that I have done this before. But then I decided I don’t want that from you. Not yet at least.”

  The left side of her lips curled slighted upward. “And why is that?” Kerhi asked.

  “I think I’d rather have more moments like this. Even if I have to endure you whining about no one liking you.”

  Kheri turned around completely and moved to where Francis was, reached out, grabbed the shirt near the collar, and pulled him forward.

  Francis didn’t fight it; unsure of what was going to happen, he found himself pulled on his tiptoes. For a brief moment, her lips were pressed against his and then he was flung backward again onto the bed.

  “Do not believe that will happen often,” Kerhi said, a smile that almost looked devilish present as she spoke. “I do hope one day you prove yourself worthy of another.”

  With that she turned and was out the tent flap before he could call out.

  What the…

  Francis started to laugh, finding himself looking forward to dying and trying this again, and not for a skill.

  After about ten minutes, when he was considering lying down, a loud call came from outside his doorway.

  “Sir Francis! Are you still awake?” a male voice asked.

  “It depends,” Francis shouted back.

  A muted chuckle could be heard, followed by a grunt a moment later.

  “Jarl Keara was wondering if you had time for another guest.”

  Francis knew that his choices were getting a little bit of sleep or continuing to gain knowledge that he would need for the next loop.

  Part of him really wanted to get some rest, the other part was content with how things had gone with Kerhi.

  “I can spare a few moments,” Francis replied. “Send her in.”

  The hides were moved aside and Jarl Keara entered, her face looking like she wasn’t happy at having been forced to wait.

  “Jarl Keara,” Francis said, giving a small bow. “Forgive me for making you wait. I was ensuring I was presentable for you. Please come inside and take a seat.”

  The older woman's lips were pressed firmly together but she gave him a nod. With what had to be a well-practiced flick of her head, the blond braid that had been resting on the front of her left shoulder was sent flying and landed on her back. “Thank you for allowing me the honor of visiting you,” she replied. “I had hoped to see you earlier in the evening, but it appears you had a visitor for a while. I take it things went well?”

  “I learned much about your people and am grateful that my guest was willing to enlighten me. May I inquire what I can do for you?” Francis asked.

  Moving to the chair he had offered, Keara sat and gave him an intense look, her blue eyes looking him up and down. “Our Warchief has said nothing of the things you two discussed beyond that you will be visiting the battlefield tomorrow. You both spoke for quite some time, and then you spent a considerable amount of the evening with a barbarian who has a history of… not doing such a thing. I find myself wondering what it is about you that has captured the attention of my people so easily.”

  Francis stayed on his feet, not wanting to sit and assume a position that might make it seem like he was giving in. “All I can say is that I have sworn to help your people overcome the enemy you face. Glitvall had a long list of questions about how things fare in my kingdom and the battle there. Tomorrow I shall get a first-hand view of what you all face.”

  “And Shaman Kerhi?” Keara asked, one of her eyebrows rising.

  “That is between her and me,” Francis said. “Now, I would prefer not to seem rude, but can I ask why you have really come? While I don’t pretend to play the games many leaders do, I prefer to attack head-on.”

  She snorted and shook her head. “Either a good trait or a foolish one,” Keara replied. “I came for many reasons. The main reason is to ask if more of your people are coming?”

  “Am I not enough?” Francis asked, grinning.

  Keara frowned at his response. “I mean no disrespect… but you are young and have no scars that I can see. To believe that those responsible for your lands would consider you a… gift… or help in a fight they cannot win feels almost like a slight. Yet, Glitvall believes you will be. That combination of things has left me considering how a single person— be it a boy or a man — can make a difference.”

  Sighing, Francis felt a portion of the joy he had been feeling from his time with Kerhi vanish, knowing that his time in this camp would be filled with others like Keara. Many would challenge him, and it appeared they had no problem doing so to his face.

  “Jarl Keara, do not take this wrong, but I guess you’ll have to wait a few hours and see what kind of help I’ll be. Now then, forgive me if I seem to be rude, but I would like to rest.”

  She snorted, standing immediately. “You will need more than a few hours of rest if you hope to prove your worth.” With those words spoken, she turned and left.

  It seems I still haven’t lost my touch…

  Francis plopped down onto the bed, choosing not to bother undressing. Soon enough, he’d get to see what the Kingdom of Tules was facing.

  ?