The Champion's Ruin

by Kristen Banet

  “I’m just moving away,” Leshaun huffed in annoyance, but when Zayden tried to pull his hand away, Leshaun took it in his own. “But I’ll miss you too, nephew of my heart. I watched you and Mat grow up. It’s been very interesting to see what you’ve both become without my guidance, and I can’t wait to see what you’ll do once we’re all free in our own lands again.”

  “To freedom and family,” Mat declared, lifting a glass. People started to clap. Bryn brought out glasses and handed them out. “Everyone, get a drink, so this toast actually means something!”

  That created laughter. Zayden grabbed Leshaun’s wine and poured him a glass.

  “Tell me if you need me to protect it,” Zayden ordered. “It’s yours, and I won’t have anyone taking your favorite from you.”

  “Thank you, but that’s why I brought it. I didn’t want to share with everyone.” Leshaun winked, revealing there was still something young in him, it just needed space to come out again, which he didn’t have in a village consumed by war.

  “Well, I’ll let others have a taste once you’ve had your fill,” Zayden retorted. He didn’t want Leshaun to give away his prized bottle of wine from Kerit, so he tucked it deep in the storage room. When he came out, he pointed back to it. “Let me know when you want a refill.”

  Leshaun lifted his full glass in thanks.

  Once everyone had drinks, Mat raised his glass again.

  “Okay, let’s do this right. I’ll say some words, then…Alchan? Would you like to say anything?”

  “I would, thank you.” Alchan was lounging on a large cushion with Rain curled against his side.

  “Then I’ll get on with it.” Mat cleared his throat as Zayden finally found his place to sit at the table. “Leshaun is a dedicated soul. Passionate and wise and knows what’s important. He taught me what’s important. Family. For centuries, he’s impressed on me the need to build a strong one that can bear the storm winds of our time and stand tall and strong like a mountain. Unbreakable, he said. A family should be unbreakable. It’s not a family otherwise. And that’s what he cultivated here. An unbreakable family that breaks through all boundaries. From the king,”—Mat inclined his head to Alchan—“to the lowest of grunts.” He pointed to himself. “Over the years, we’ve all changed, grown, and evolved, but one thing has remained true. We’re a family. And it’s thanks to you, uncle.”

  Everyone cheered and took the first drink from their glass. Alchan stood up and sighed.

  “How do I follow that?” he asked, looking around. “Mat was mostly right, but he got one thing wrong. You weren’t the lowest of grunts. You and Zayden were both the lowest of grunts.”

  Zayden snorted, shaking his head as everyone laughed. It was true. When the War had ended the first time, he and Mat had been the most basic soldiers. Their addition to the Ivory Shadows had been a blessing they hadn’t truly earned yet. They required the most training once the Company knew what it wanted to do.

  “But you are right about family. We are one, and it grows larger by the season.” He tilted his hand toward Senri, who ran a hand over her massive pregnancy belly. “We are more, too. We have traveled the world, going farther than many Andinna could ever dream. We’ve seen the shifting times and battled an endless foe. We are here today with no small part, thanks to Leshaun. It’s time you retire and live a quieter life, but as you go into your twilight years, remember none of this would have been possible without you. Our survival through the centuries has you to thank. The survival of many is thanks to you. You, who cultivated our spy network. You, who was brave enough to mimic a slave and enter Elliar to save Mat and Rain…and Mave. You, who reminded all of us to stay true to our ways. To not forget what the Andinna are and what we are meant to be. I’ll miss your quiet guidance, Lord Leshaun of the Andinna.”

  Zayden felt the tears hit him then.

  “Thank you, my king,” Leshaun whispered. “Cheers to the Andinna and to our king.”

  “Cheers, to the newest noble of the Andinna. When you leave here, you’ll find a piece of property waiting for you. A vast valley with a small village. The mativa can’t wait to have you, a noble settling in a well-earned retirement.” Alchan smiled and nodded his head respectfully. “And it is very well earned.” Alchan looked around in the silence after that. “This is where you cheer, and I tell you everyone can eat.”

  The raucous laughter that followed was better. As they dished up food, Rain asked for everyone to tell him stories about Leshaun. His son was only just over three hundred. He didn’t have the same time as everyone else got with the old male and wanted to hear all of it.

  As those stories began, Zayden was attentive to Leshaun, wanting to be a good host and was feeling too sentimental to leave him alone to his own devices.

  “Do you want a refill?” he asked softly.

  “Oh, yes, please. You’re a good male, Zayden. I envy your parents. You were probably a dream around the house.”

  Zayden chuckled as he took the wineglass to refill it. When he got back, he decided to burst Leshaun’s bubble.

  “Not really. I wasn’t really helpful until your family moved into the village and Mat was born,” he explained. “Helping with Mat when he was little was an educational experience. It taught me things I probably wouldn’t have learned for another thousand years. Who knows where I would have ended up if your family hadn’t come into my life?” Zayden had become closer to Mat’s family than his own over those centuries. By the time the war started, he and Mat had already signed up to be warriors and were living far from home. Mat’s family had all been warriors, but not Zayden’s.

  “I’m glad we had you then, and I’m so…happy Mat has you now. You’ve seemed much happier since you’ve married Mave.”

  “I am,” Zayden promised. He looked at Leshaun, watching his pale, foggy green eyes, and realized there was something wrong. The male looked paler than usual. “Are you okay? Mat, does Leshaun look okay to you?”

  Mat came back to the table. He’d been telling Rain stories about the old uncle who kept them all in line at some point or another.

  “Uncle?” Mat asked softly.

  Leshaun waved a hand. “I’m—” He started coughing, his face suddenly going green. He covered his mouth, and his chest heaved with the force of the fit. He gasped for air.

  “Uncle?” Mat grabbed him and tried to stand him up. “Are you choking?”

  “Move,” Nevyn snapped. “Let me and Varon see him.”

  Zayden looked over, but Varon wasn’t moving, his eyes wide. Slowly, the priest began to shake his head.

  Leshaun collapsed, drawing everyone’s eyes back to him, coughing still. Zayden could see the blood now. He was coughing up so much blood.

  “I think he’s been poisoned,” Nevyn whispered, going to his knees next to Mat. “Hold on, Leshaun. We’ve got you. Someone run for a healer!”

  “Rain already left,” Alchan said, coming over. “Luykas? Bryn?”

  “I don’t know the poison,” Bryn said frantically.

  It was too late.

  Zayden fell into a seat, missed it, and hit the ground as Leshaun’s struggle ended. He stopped breathing, and his eyes went blank.

  Mat screamed.

  “Get Senri out of here,” Alchan ordered softly.

  “Excuse me—”

  “You’re pregnant, and we don’t know what’s done this,” the king snapped. “Go outside until a healer can clear you.”

  Zayden could only stare at his uncle. He couldn’t fathom a world without Leshaun and this…This was gruesome, terrible.

  “Bryn, you know how to work out what a poison is backward,” Nevyn said in a quiet voice. “Can you do it now?”

  “I’ll need to test…everything. The foods, the drinks…His wine,” Bryn hissed.

  Zayden couldn’t bring himself to point back at the storage room. Bryn walked over him, but he just stared at Leshaun’s dead face, unable to process what had just happened.

  “Bryn?” Luykas said in a
hushed voice, walking into the kitchen. “Is there anything suspicious?”

  “Not that I can tell, but some poisons are purposefully slow-acting, and they all require a certain dose. If you put too little in the bottle, it could take more of the drink to really hit the system before it causes damage.” Bryn growled. “It could have been anything.”

  “What about the symptoms?”

  “Can you talk about this outside?” Alchan asked gently.

  Luykas and Bryn ran out of the house.

  Zayden didn’t move, but he felt hands touch his shoulders, strong hands.

  “Let’s go,” Alchan whispered. “Let’s go, Zayden. You don’t need to sit here. Let’s get some fresh air, Zayden.”

  He jerked his shoulders, knocking the king’s hands off. They returned, grabbing hard under his arms.

  “Don’t fight me,” Alchan growled, pulling him up to his feet. Zayden sagged back, seeing the blood Leshaun had coughed up onto the table. Alchan forced him to move, taking him outside. He led him down the steps and into the grass, forcing him to take a seat with his back against the stone cliffside. Then he was gone.

  While Zayden had come quietly, Mat did not. From the sound of it, he roared and fought, kicking furniture, breaking wood. Zayden looked up the steps at the door and saw it took both Alchan and Nevyn to wrestle the big male out of the home and down the steps.

  Zayden finally realized what he needed to do. When they got close, he reached out to Mat and pulled him close.

  Mat broke down, big, ugly sobs wetting Zayden’s shoulder. Mat hit his chest in fury, but Zayden could take it. He clung to Mat as though their lives depended on it and tried to fight back his own tears. He couldn’t.

  “You think we have a what?” Alchan roared. It shocked both Mat and Zayden into reality.

  “Sir, I’m sorry—”

  “Repeat that, Bryn,” Alchan snarled. Zayden turned, his eyes going wide at the fearful rage on Alchan’s face directed at Bryn.

  “A spy, sir,” Bryn said in a small voice. “I thought I was being paranoid. There are a dozen other explanations for what’s been going on, but this…”

  “By the Skies,” Luykas gasped. “Who would it even be?”

  “I don’t know, which is why I tried to stay vigilant, but…” Bryn went to his knees. “I failed everyone. I’m sorry.”

  Zayden and Mat moved, grabbing Bryn to get him away from the king, fearful what the dominant male would do.

  Alchan only stared at Bryn, then looked up at them.

  “I wasn’t going to do anything,” Alchan whispered. “This isn’t his fault. Even if we have a spy in the camp, it’s a bold and dangerous move to assassinate someone. Leshaun doesn’t even seem like the proper target. He’s retiring. Most of his duties have gone to Luykas. This is…not anyone’s fault, but whoever did it.”

  “Sir?” It was Learen. “There were supposed to be six bottles in the shipment for Leshaun. Dave and I were worried about that one because the others had been pilfered. We need to find them all.”

  Alchan cursed. “Thank you for letting me know. The bottle was sealed when you found it in the shipment, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then that means…” Luykas shook his head in disbelief. “They were poisoned in Kerit, if not earlier.”

  “Yes,” Alchan whispered.

  Zayden let them handle it. He grabbed Bryn and Mat by their wrists and took them to a quiet spot. Luykas would keep them up to date. Every husband had a duty to each other. Luykas would be their forward point, handling everything around them. Zayden decided he would shoulder the burden of helping Mat and Bryn get past this.

  Zayden didn’t want them to know it was his way of trying to ignore what had just happened. He didn’t want to break on them. He loved all of them. They were his family, and his family had been attacked. He was blinking back tears as he forced Mat and Bryn to sit down.

  “We’ll get through this,” he told them. “Do you understand? We’ll get through this.”

  “He’s gone,” Mat whispered.

  “I know,” Zayden said, swallowing the painful emotions trying to break out of him again.

  Bryn only turned away, flipping his legs around to watch the woods. He didn’t leave the bench, but he detached himself from them all the same.

  Zayden didn’t know how he was going to hold everyone together, but a hand touched his shoulder. He looked up to see Luykas, who nodded, then sat down with Bryn and wrapped his arms around the smaller male.

  Zayden took a chance to look around the group. Nevyn was talking to Rain and a healer who arrived, who was shaking his head sadly. Alchan was listening as well, standing away but his attention clear.

  Zayden’s heart cracked in two again as he realized there was no one to comfort him from the pain. Mave was on a mission. Mat was hurting.

  And Leshaun was gone.

  29

  Emerian

  “Emerian, take care of my daughter. Get her home. I don’t care how much she fights you. Protect her with your fucking life, do you understand?”

  The words haunted Emerian while he worked. He found a place to stop and rest with Mave, knowing what he had to do. Those words haunted his every step, his every decision. And now, she was lying in front of him as he tried to remove an arrow from her side. Then he had to get the one out of her back. Those were the most pressing issues. They would kill her eventually if he didn’t get them out, probably from infection.

  He couldn’t do anything about the wing. Already, the bone was trying to knit. A real healer would need to rebreak it, set it, and hope it took. From the angle of the wing, Emerian wasn’t sure Mave could fly well. The tears and holes healed on their own, but the break put her wing at a bad angle.

  “Tell me if it hurts,” he said, swallowing his apprehension. He’d sworn to get her home and keep her alive. He was going to do that.

  She didn’t respond. She was awake, he knew she was, but she didn’t respond. She was eerily quiet, which disturbed him. This was a female who was unafraid to make her opinion known and always had something new to say to him. Months of training with her taught him she would always be there to guide him. She didn’t let him make the same mistakes twice.

  But she didn’t speak now.

  Her father just died to protect her. He died to make sure I could get her home. I…I know how that feels. I was silent for months after my parents were murdered.

  He touched her cheek, pushing her hair off her face.

  “Please tell me if this hurts,” he pleaded again. He reached for the arrow, which he had already cut down, and slowly began to work out what was left. The wound had already started healing, which had stopped the bleeding. He ruined that. It opened up again, and blood began to spill out. She shook in pain underneath him, but he didn’t stop until the entire arrowhead was free.

  He grabbed a waterskin and poured the precious resource over the hole, clearing out debris that had gotten in while they fought and ran for their lives. Once it was cleaned out to his satisfaction, he bandaged her, forcing her to lift her hips, so he could take it all the way around her. It wasn’t easy. She was lying in a dazed state on her stomach as if nothing was happening around her.

  Once done, he nodded at his work.

  “I think I did good for a male with one eye,” he said with no short amount of bitter anger at his own injury. It was unsavable, his eye. The Elvasi had gotten a lucky hit across his face, and it left a scar from his temple to the bridge of his nose. Emerian didn’t want to think about what he had to do once he realized his eye was ruined and a dangerous infection risk. It had been painful and horrifying, but he had done it. He’d packed it with bandages and wrapped his head, hoping it would hold. He would need to keep it clean, but he knew Andinna without eyes. They made it work. He could as well.

  I don’t really have any other options.

  Emerian moved on to the arrow in Mave’s back. He moved slower with that one, knowing it had been the one to take her d
own. It hadn’t hit her spine, but it was too close for comfort. He felt her body tense and tried to relax her by rubbing her back with one hand before he continued further.

  “Where does it hurt?” he asked softly, leaning down to whisper in her ear. She blinked, and her mouth opened.

  “Left,” she answered. “Down.”

  He wanted to cry. Those were the first words she had spoken since Kian died. His warrior was coming back. He needed her to come back. He didn’t even know how to describe how much he needed it. He’d promised her father he would protect her, but it was hard when she was so lost in her grief she wouldn’t speak.

  By her instruction, he knew it hurt left and down, so he tilted it up and to the right, then pulled slowly. She didn’t tense again or scream. Whatever pain there was, she was strong, handling it without reacting. He’d screamed and cried, losing his eye, but she was taking this as though it was as simple as removing a splinter.

  Once it was gone, he washed and bandaged it just like he had the previous. All of her other injuries were superficial and had healed into scabs or even already scarred. He felt guilt for waiting three days with arrows in her, but he’d been afraid the Elvasi would pursue them.

  “They’re both gone now,” he told her, rubbing her back. “I need to look at the maps and refill the waterskin. There’s a fresh spring near us, which is better than water downstream.”

  He moved to get the chores done quickly, then stopped at midday. It was too dangerous to tend her injuries at night. Once they had fresh water, he grabbed one of their bags of jerky and put two pieces by her nose, hoping she would see it. He didn’t have anything yet for a big meal. He didn’t have a bow to hunt with. He didn’t have much of anything. He’d tried to take four horses because there would have been more supplies, but one had bolted, not that he could blame it. He lost her mare because he had thrown her on Kian’s stallion, which had been the closest. It had been a fast and fortunate decision. They had Kian’s maps. They also had his personal items.