A Choice of Blades: The Blade Remnant, Book One

by D. N. Woodward

  Leon tried not to draw attention to himself as he took his seat next to Kyra but she took one look at his face and wrapped her arms around him. Her embrace smothered him in the scent of flowers and spice, it pushed back on the stench of the streets and the slaver’s den, if only for bit. Nonetheless, a bit of a reprieve turned out to be more than enough for Leon to pull himself together.

  After a long hug, Kyra finally pulled back. “Leon, what happened? Sved sent people back looking for you, but we heard nothing for so long. I was preparing to leave too when word came you were back! Did you find Shana? Why is there blood on your vest?” Nimble fingers prodded him as she spoke, quickening in their search for wounds when he didn’t respond right away.

  “I’m fine, Kyra. I did find her. But there was something off about the whole thing…then I nearly killed three members of Vindarri royalty. She didn't want to come afterward. It's just us now, me and Reed I mean.”

  Her eyes went wide, but she didn’t ask any more questions. Her fingers found their way into his hands and held on tight.

  “What’s happening here?” Leon asked, coming up out of his mind and taking a look around.

  “Sved and his men just won the bidding for my brothers and Haddie! They also managed to buy your friend Rezz. They are bidding now for Reed.”

  “Good. I’m ready to get out of here.”

  Kyra frowned, hesitating only for a second before continuing, “It’s not that simple. The slavers lumped Reed in with the rest of the Fae. They are selling them all in one large unit.”

  He shrugged dismissively. “Can’t Sved afford that, though? I'll throw in all the gold I found on the way here. It’d almost be worth it, even without Reed in the mix, if for no other reason than to see those smug faces deflate when they realize who bought their freedom, though we’d have to set them free soon enough. Slavery’s intolerable, no matter what a person’s done.”

  “I agree, and I think under normal circumstances, yes, that would work. But these aren’t normal circumstances.” She pointed across the room to another large box full of men and women lounging about in forest-colored outfits Leon knew well. They were matching Sved and his men, bid for bid. He pushed up his hat and scratched his head.

  “More Fae?”

  “Yeah, I’m told they were already in town. The slavers must have tipped them off to the fact their people were being sold. Sved heard they are willing to leverage half their kingdom to get them back, and the slavers have been instructed by the town’s council of elders to give them any amount of credit they rack up!”

  “It's got to be because of the Fae queen’s son! He was there that night. He must be in the mix with Reed!”

  A few minutes later the voices controlling the haggling of the auction went silent. A person who Leon assumed was some sort of Auctioneer broke the stillness, “DEAL!” and a gong-like bell was rung.

  Sved hung his head and sank into his chair, cradling his face in his hands.

  When he looked up at Leon his eyes red and puffy, “I am so sorry, my friend. I just don't have the means to go higher. Reed’s fate rests in the hands of the Fae.”

  Son of a biscuit!

  Chapter 26

  Kyra’s brothers were delivered to the Haberkorn Market Holdings the next morning. Once informed of their good fortune, all three Stonebreaker brothers encircled their sister in a hug. Tears were shed in astonishment over the fact that Kyra and her new friends had managed to do for them what they never thought possible.

  After their initial emotions calmed, the brothers all wore smiles. Cheerful humor took the place of tearful sentiment as they gently teased Kyra for her hair color and then poked fun at how much Grumpy's girth had grown in their absence. After that, they hugged everyone, including Leon.

  They were overjoyed to learn he shared their tribal heritage. To Sved and the Haberkorn clan, they pledged their loyalty despite Sved's protest that Leon and Kyra had already paid back the gold they cost. Their rambunctious reunion was a celebratory moment that lifted everyone’s spirits, even Leon’s, for a short while.

  Haddie and Rezz were delivered a few hours later. If Rezz was surprised to see Leon, Dimples, and Sved again, he hid it well. He had been badly hurt in the fight with the Fae, but as he relayed, when the slavers threw him in with Reed, it was Reed's gift that had healed him enough to recover.

  Haddie's reunion was different. Her skin was red and blotchy from over-exposure to the sun and her slim figure was skinnier than Leon could recall, but she didn’t look to be physically injured.

  As soon as she saw Sved, Leon, and Dimples, she broke into tears and fell to pieces. Madam Hazzel, Sved's mother, made her first appearance then. She was an older woman, with smiling eyes and benevolent wrinkles that reminded Leon in a distant way of his grandmother. She cradled Haddie in her arms and told everyone to be patient and give her space. She explained how a woman sometimes could use a little time to herself. She and Haddie wept tears of joy and sorrow together, as Madam Hazzel led her out of the room and straight for the baths.

  The look on Sved’s face when he finally returned from checking in on Haddie was timid relief. “She’s sleeping now. Madam Hazzel says her dignity is intact. Not that they cared, no? They just felt a pretty girl like her would fetch a better price without…well, let's just say it's been a trying time all around, yes?”

  “Will she be okay?” Leon asked.

  “She will, though she only asks for Reed. We didn’t have the heart to tell her what happened just yet.”

  “Speaking of Reed. Sved I’ve been going through my things. The chest I pulled from the prince’s tent the day after they were taken contained more than just the gold, I used to pay you back for the Stonebreakers. There are some weird items in there, stuff that looks expensive. You think it could be worth a trade?”

  Sved perked up. “It can’t hurt to try! Show me.”

  A half-hour later, Haberkorn runners were sent to find the Fae delegation and inform them of the prospect for the trade Leon hoped to make.

  Ferschall had never returned. When Leon worried, Sved assured him that was his way. He would be around when he decided to turn up and not a minute sooner.

  While the whole group visited and snacked in the main room together, waiting to hear word from the Fae, the oldest of Kyra’s three brothers, Fane, approached Leon and asked if they could talk. He was a very big man and the most subdued of the three brothers. The two younger brothers, Chocum and Daz, were young men, just a little older than Leon himself. Fane was at least ten years older.

  His initial exuberance and joy over their release had run its course and as the day wore on, he began asking questions that brought him up to speed on the depth and condition of Fayden's kingdom defenses. His mind was already contemplating the ramifications of an impending invasion. In short, he was now the head of the Stonebreaker family, and it was clear he took the job seriously.

  Leon half expected him to pull his Blade and clean his fingernails in intimidation as they settled down into some comfortable seats next to each other, across the room from everyone else. He saw Kyra throwing nervous glances his direction and tried to ignore whatever hints those looks were attempting to convey, puzzling on them would just make him more nervous.

  Too bad he doesn’t have a shotgun he can polish while he asks me “a few man-to-man questions.”

  To his surprise, Fane started the conversation completely differently than expected. “Leon, before we begin, I just want to say I don’t know how to properly thank you for what you did for Kyra, and us by extension. My brothers and I could have shouldered a life of slavery, or worse if things turned out that way, but the thought of our little sister being alone out there nearly broke us…I’m just glad you were there for her when she needed someone.”

  “You’re welcome.” Leon leaned in and winked at him. “But I have to admit that the only reason I’m here now is because of her. Without her, I would likely be dead or worse.”

  Fane leaned back and smiled
. “She’s a very competent young woman.”

  Leon agreed, and Fane continued, “I imagine you and Kyra have become quite close in the time you have known one another?”

  “Yes, sir, we have…but not like close-close…”

  When Leon didn’t add anything, Fane continued, “As our father is gone, it is now my duty to look after her. It would be a weight off my shoulders if I knew your intentions with her?”

  “Intentions?” The conversation was taking a hard turn down a road he wasn’t ready to travel.

  “Yes, intentions."

  "Uhh, well, I like Kyra, a lot, but I'm not sure what—”

  "Do I need to spell it out for you or are you going to ask for her hand?”

  Leon sputtered, “Hand?”

  Fane was beginning to lose patience. His voice rose as he asked as directly as possible, “Do you want to marry Kyra or not?”

  Leon’s mouth was lost trying to keep pace with his mind. He just sat there moving his lips, like a fish out of water, but he couldn’t find an answer in time.

  Fane glared at him for another moment or two, then leaped to his feet and stalked off across the room.

  Leon looked around the room. Everyone had stopped their talking. They were all staring at him. Kyra’s glare stopped him in his tracks. She jumped to her feet and her stool clattered to the floor as she stormed out of the room. Daz broke free from talking with Dimples and followed after her.

  Dimples sauntered over and squatted down next to him. “That was very poorly done, Leon. You have dishonored the heart of a young woman. That is the most dangerous offense a man can make. You better find a way to give her honor back or she will loath you forever.” He gave Leon a solid pat and a smile like he had just solved his problem and shared one of life’s greatest secrets all in one fell swoop.

  Infernal Hootsi!

  # # #

  Leon was still trying to make sense of everything that had happened with Fane when one of the runners returned.

  “Sved, the Fae haven’t agreed to anything yet, but you’ve got their attention. They want to hear more. They will wait to see what we have to offer. However, their talks with the Alliance have deteriorated due to the stunt the slavers pulled. They plan to leave by dawn’s light either way.”

  “How do they want this to go down?” said Sved.

  “They won’t send anyone. Said they won’t put any more Ageless lives in jeopardy. They want the griffin tamer to meet them. Alone. He is to bring a small sample of what he has to offer. Their leader will judge if it is worthy of a trade.”

  Sved cast a look at Leon. “No, they need to do better than that!”

  “We can’t risk them walking out on this, Sved. I’ve got a chance to convince them to trade for Reed. I have to take it. It's my risk, my decision. I’m going.”

  Sved didn’t like it, but he agreed it was an opportunity they might not have again.

  As evening settled in outside, Leon changed out of his Fae clothing and into some swarthy outfit Sved’s people were able to supply on short notice. He didn’t want to risk angering Reed’s captors by showing up dressed in the clothes of their dead kinsmen.

  He wouldn’t be taking his larger animal companions on this excursion either. He was leaving Ahab and Merle in Dimple’s care. He chuckled to himself at the unforgettable expression on Sved’s face when he asked him to watch after the Thunderbird. He could have left it to Dimples, but he opted for Sved instead, mostly just for the amusement of seeing that sour look on the little man’s face.

  The one creature he did plan to bring along was the owl. Leon thought the Fae might respect him more for taming and valuing an animal they held in high regard. Any edge he could get, he would take.

  Under Kyra’s care and guidance, the little owl had grown well beyond Leon’s expectations. In his estimation, it was closer to the size of a hawk than the miniaturized hunter that had been described to him. Its talons were long, silver, and wickedly curved. Sved’s tailor had added an extra layer of leather onto his shoulders, where the bird liked to perch, and it rested there like a parrot on his shoulder. He had also provided Leon with thick leather gauntlets and fingerless gloves, so he could handle those talons without slicing himself, if necessary. Looking at the bird now, Leon could easily how useful such gloves might become in the near future.

  The owl’s body had finally filled out to match its long wings. Mottled lines of black and spots of gray and purple overlapped a dark blue base plumage. Its eyes were dark orbs floating in gold, circled in rings of black and framed in small white feathers, the only white on the whole bird. Leon could now see the sleek form of the true hunter it was always meant to be. He remembered Olwena had called it a Forest Bandit at some point during their flight from the Fae. The owl did have a bit of a bandit’s look to it now that he examined him closely.

  “How about I call you Westley, after another famous bandit from a place called Hollywood?” Leon chuckled as the owl cooed in response.

  “Not the most fearsome of names, but it fits you all the same!”

  He fed Westley a small sliver of rabbit from Sved’s kitchens and set it on his shoulder. Then he turned and stopped, catching sight of himself in the mirror which rested in the corner of his room. He barely recognized the man staring back in the flickering lamplight. He was tall, much taller than he remembered, and his body had finally started filling out his lanky frame. His clothing style was similar to Ferschall’s, back on the first night they met, but much newer and better fitting.

  It was trim but loose. The inner fabrics were soft against his skin and cool to the touch, while the thick leather exterior on the chest, shoulders, and arms provided an armor of sorts. He preferred leggings to the long tunic Ferschall wore, and he had grown to appreciate the knee-high boots of the Fae. Both were provided in charcoal and tan colors that matched the rest of him.

  He frowned at Westley, still resting on his shoulder. “I look like a wannabe pirate in a trucker’s hat!” Westley just watched him with wide owlish eyes.

  “Tough crowd.”

  Caddie had at least done him the service of washing his old tan hat, twice she claimed. The black CW stitching had faded to a dull gray, but the cap was in impressively good shape considering its use. As he stared at the image of his grandfather's brand, a dull ache caused him to clench his fists at the thought of all he had lost, but despite the hurt, his head remained clear and focused. He opened his fists, forcing blood back into white knuckles, and reached down at his side, rubbing his fingertips over the bone-handled hilt of his Blade.

  There was a gentle knock at his door.

  When he pulled back the flap, he saw Kyra standing there alone. She looked as beautiful and wild as ever. But her cheeks were lined in tear stains where she had been crying. She wouldn’t meet his eye at first. “Well, you going to invite me in, or just stand there?”

  Was that a small smile? A smile is good!

  “I don’t know…are you going to hurt me?”

  “I’ll hurt you more if you don’t!”

  “Good enough!” He moved aside, and she slipped through.

  She was quiet, and he was afraid to start things off on the wrong foot. He walked over and grabbed another sliver of meat for Westley. He noticed Kyra studying the bird as he fed him.

  “His name is Westley.”

  “What? Whose name?”

  “The owl. I finally named him. He’s been going dangerous places with us this whole time. Thought he at least deserved a name.” He decided not to attempt explaining how the name actually came from a movie he'd watched as a child.

  “Westley…” She tested it, “odd, but I think it fits him. I like it.” She fidgeted over Westley for a moment while he waited for her to speak.

  At last, she built up the nerve to attack the tension between them. “Leon, I’ve been thinking about what my brother did…I know you probably have different customs where you come from…what I mean is…I’m sorry…”

  He held up a hand to
stop her. He’d had time to think things through, too, and he knew, without a doubt, what he needed to tell her.

  “No, Kyra, you don't need to apologize for Fane. He just surprised me is all. I should have answered him from my heart as soon as I knew what he was asking.” He took her hands in his, then dropped to a knee and continued, “We do have a custom where I come from, though. When a man wants to marry a woman he loves, he takes a knee like this. Next, he looks her in the eye like this.” Leon looked into Kyra’s gray-blue eyes and saw a flicker of hope glimmering back at him. “He asks her a question with as much courage as he can muster.”

  Kyra was breathless. She whispered back. “What question?”

  “Will you marry me? Will you be my wife? Kyra, I don’t have a home to offer you, and I sure don’t know what the future holds, but I’ve come to realize I care more for you than anything else in this life. If there’s a future for me, I want it to be with you.”

  She made a high-pitched sound and pulled him up into her arms. Leon noticed for the first time that he no longer stood eye to eye with Kyra. Reaching into a pocket at her side, she withdrew a small clothe and pressed it into his hands. It was dyed purple and decorated with symbols sewn in golden thread. When his fingers closed around the cloth, she looked up into his eyes and answered him with one word, “Yes!”

  Those first moments after their engagement were the most exhilarating moments of Leon’s life. Their celebration was quiet and brief, but no less special than had he taken a knee and won a bride on centerfield at Cowboy’s stadium. Before leaving Leon’s room to announce their decision to the others, Kyra explained the purpose of the cloth. “I’ve stitched a symbol using a strand of my hair from an event in my life every year since I became old enough to wed. It’s a tradition that once we are promised you will hold this for me until the day we are married. On that day you surprise me by giving it back with a symbol of your own there in the center.”