When Claws and Swords Collide

by N M Zoltack

  “Valkyries typically do not marry,” Valeria said after a moment.

  “Are you speaking about Horatia?” he asked. “It is not forbidden for Valkyries to form attachments, is it?”

  “I did say typically.” Valeria ruefully shook her head. “But I think the allowing of marriage is a more, ah, modern interpretation.”

  “Modern meaning after the fall of the dragons.”

  Wordlessly, Valeria nodded.

  “You disapprove.”

  “Of Horatia? That is not my place, but I do think that you must marry.”

  “Of course you do.” He side-eyed her. Was she suggesting herself?

  “No, not me.” She glowered at him, as if annoyed he would even think such a thing.

  “I do not wish to think about marrying anyone,” he finally muttered.

  “Why not? You are a prince—”

  “I’m a prince because my father said so. That is all. He declared himself king. That is not how it should be.”

  “But Vincana had a king before Jankin Rivera came to sit on the throne and declare himself king of all of Dragoona.”

  “Whatever happened to that king?” Marcellus wondered aloud even though he already knew the answer.

  “Sergius Tulius had been found dead in his bedchamber the day before Jankin took the throne.”

  “No one ever investigated to see if that had been natural causes, had they?” he asked.

  “I do not know for certain,” Valeria said dryly. “I was not alive then.”

  “I was not either,” he muttered, “but it is rather curious.”

  “Yes, but Jankin was in Atlan by then. He was not anywhere near Vincana.”

  “Yes, but an ally of his might well have said south.”

  “Or maybe there was a Vincanan who sided with him. Maybe someone sought what he offered—all of Dragoona to be ruled by one man.”

  “I fail to see how that is possible,” Marcellus protested.

  “And it is possible that Sergius died of natural causes.”

  “The timing is far too suspect,” he argued.

  “Ah, but the will of the Fates… If Death said it was Sergius’ time, then he had no choice but to die.”

  “You mean to say that you think the Fates truly wished for Jankin to take the throne without bloodshed?”

  “The Fates may have wished that, yes.”

  “Not Death.”

  “No, but perhaps Chaos.”

  “Chaos would have wanted war.”

  “There is war now,” Valeria pointed out, “and because of Jankin ascending to the throne. Years later, albeit, but war is here regardless.”

  Marcellus grunted.

  For a time, they were silent, but Valeria saying he should marry plagued him.

  “Father will want me to wed,” Marcellus grumbled. “Who knows? He might have already picked a bride for me.”

  “Or maybe you should look elsewhere,” Valeria suggested.

  “You have someone in mind,” he accused. “Who is she?”

  “You must find a way to seek peace with those from Tenoch,” Valeria urged.

  “You would have me wed one of them.” He scowled and rubbed his throat.

  “Would peace be so terrible a thing to wish for?”

  “It is not that I do not want peace.”

  “Then what stops you? Do you love someone? Is that why you do not wish to stop this war?”

  “This war is not my own,” he argued. “I am nothing more than a pawn for my father.”

  “So you say, and I am sorry for that, but you do have some free will, do you not?”

  “Not if I marry for the sake of peace.”

  “There are far worse reasons to marry,” Valeria fought back.

  “I suppose, but…”

  “You do not wish to marry Rosalynne or Sabine.”

  Marcellus narrowed his eyes at the crashing waves. The waters were restless this night, reckless even, mirroring how he felt. There were no words he could offer, no solution.

  Finally, he whispered, “Seeking peace does not mean it has to be from marriage.”

  “No? Would that not be the simplest, easiest way?”

  “Anything worth having in this lifetime has to be earned through blood, tears, and sweat,” Marcellus said firmly. “A wedding ring would not accomplish that which you suggest.”

  “Are you so sure about that? Perhaps not,” Valeria then conceded, “but consider this. Consider a child. If the fruit of your marriage is a child who could rule over both Tenoch and Vincana… Would you not be willing to do that for the sake of peace over all of Dragoona?”

  Marcellus did not answer. What could he say?

  He hadn’t wanted to be a prince.

  He hadn’t wanted to fight this war.

  But he did want peace.

  If that meant he had to wed, then so be it.

  But everything within him fought and rejected this notion, although he could not say why.

  Eventually, Valeria slipped away, but Marcellus lingered much longer, watching the crashing waves until his eyelids grew heavy. Dragging his feet, he turned around and headed back to the others, toward safety. Relative safety. Dangers lurked at every turn here on Tenoch, and he would not be taken by surprise if he could help it.

  44

  Rase Ainsley

  The morning came, and Rase went about his now normal routine of making himself and Leanne breakfast. To his surprise, she was not only already awake, but she was in the kitchen already, brewing some hot water for them to drink some tea.

  “Good morning,” she said almost shyly.

  “How are you this morning? Did you sleep well?”

  “Well enough, I suppose.”

  “And how do you feel? Well?” he pressed.

  “Yes, I guess.” She nodded a few times.

  “Well then, how do you feel about a bit of company today?”

  Leanne blinked a few times. “Rase…”

  “Just a few of my friends,” he insisted. “It won’t be too bad, I swear. They’re good guys. You’ll like them.”

  “I don’t know,” she murmured. “I…”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m afraid,” she said. She gnawed on her lower lip. “Maybe a little. I… Men… You… Maxene…”

  “Leanne, you can take your time and tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Ma died from strange men. I was attacked… Several times…”

  “I’ll be here. You won’t be like Maxene. You aren’t a fool.”

  “Rase!”

  “I’m sorry, but Maxene was a fool,” Rase spat out. “She ran away from her home to spend time with the son of an earl who didn’t care for her one bit. He used her. He was the worst kind of man a man could be, but you don’t have to worry about him. He’s dead.”

  “You…”

  “He’s dead,” Rase said firmly. “And any man who hurts you will have to deal with the consequences.”

  The street rat couldn’t help smiling. Didn’t all the fancy stories about the heroes of old tell about how they named their blades? The Valkyries all had. He knew that much.

  Well, the blade he tricked the blacksmith into making for him would now be known as Consequences.

  “Rase, I appreciate that,” Leanne said softly.

  “So my friends can come over?” he asked eagerly. “If you want to wait a few days, that’s fine. I understand. You can get used to the idea, but Maxene, she was your friend, but I was friends with her too.”

  “True. You’re right. I… A boy needs friends, right?”

  “I’m not a boy anymore,” Rase said crossly. “I’m fourteen.”

  "Fourteen already. Next, you'll be thinking about finding yourself a…" Leanne fell silent.

  Rase smirked. He wasn't even going to think about himself getting a wife until after Leanne was married. Maybe his sister should be pregnant first too. Or the babe could be born. Rase wanted Leanne taken care of, and he wanted
her protected. That was all he cared about. Not so much for himself, but for her.

  Others in the world were worried about the dragons, were concerned about the war. Not Rase. He just wanted Leanne to smile again, a real smile. She deserved to be happy, and right now, she had faced so much pain and suffering that Rase feared she would never smile again.

  It took a few hours for Rase to get the word out, but then, some of his so-called friends, the merchants and the other townsfolk he had helped specifically so they would owe him favors, started to bring over men for Rase to introduce to Leanne. Each one of those men was interested in finding a wife.

  But the first man had a bit of a lump over his own eye and a hunched shoulder. He tried to get Leanne to take his hand, but she refused.

  “How do you know Rase?” she asked. “Did he hit you on the head?”

  The man scoffed. “Why would he do that?”

  “Because it seems like you don’t know how to listen to a woman,” she said firmly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You keep trying to hold my hand, and if you don’t stop, I’m going to be the one to hit you in the head.”

  Rase scowled, but she had a point, and he ushered the man out. “If you don’t listen to a lady, you might well find yourself punched after all. Who sent you?”

  “Ah…”

  “Doesn’t matter. Do not return if you know what is good for you.”

  “Yes, yes,” the man grumbled.

  The next three men didn’t fare any better. No matter, Rase had more men come the next day and the next, but even the ones who were not overtly ugly or mean or crude, she was rude to them one and all.

  Rase wasn’t sure what he could do to make her happy. He wanted to try and get her settled before having his revenge on the goon who had hurt her, but that was not happening.

  Maybe if he went out and found a decent enough man… But who? Most of the men he associated with were far older than he was, and Leanne might want someone closer to her age. Honestly, Rase was at a loss. She needed someone strong and capable, someone who would protect her. Someone who would be willing to fight for her if need be.

  A guard, perhaps? Wasn't the hotel owner who owed Rase some coin yet related to a guard? Maybe Rase should head on over to Tranquil Wolf Hotel and have a bit of a chat with Dudley Hill…

  45

  Prince Marcellus Gallus

  The sun blinded Marcellus, and when he stirred, he could tell something was wrong.

  Without fail, his instincts were correct.

  “Where is Horatia?” Marcellus asked before he had even done more than sit up from where he had been resting near a large rock.

  Flavius, who stood by the opening of the land cave, merely shook his head.

  “I wish to speak with her,” Marcellus said, climbing to his feet.

  Most of the others were still sleeping yet, especially those still recovering. Marcellus checked over those injured and burned, as he did every morning and night, and then stalked over to Flavius.

  “I do not see any of the Valkyries,” Marcellus hissed. “Do not tell me…”

  “Perhaps we should walk, My Prince,” Flavius said stiffly.

  Marching as if he were off to a battle he knew would end with his death, Marcellus led Flavius a good distance from the cave.

  “Well?” he demanded once they were far enough away that no one could overhear them.

  “You have the right of it,” Flavius admitted. “The Valkyries are all gone.”

  “Did they give you any notice, any warning?”

  Flavius set his jaw, and a muscle in his throat jumped.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I do not know where they went off to, but I assume they are off to be Valkyries,” he finally muttered. “I know you wished to speak with her, and I… We did not fight, but I strove to keep her here. I… Maybe I pressed a bit too hard. Perhaps I was selfish, but I longed for her for some time, and when I thought she might finally be mine, she leaves me for dragons!” Flavius slammed a fist into his open palm. “Forgive me. I know this affects you and the others as well, but I am…”

  “You’re hurting because the woman you love left you without so much as a goodbye. I understand. It’s curious, though.”

  “What is?”

  “Last night, Valeria came to me.”

  “She did?” Flavius gave Marcellus the once-over.

  “Not for anything like that.” Marcellus scowled. “She spoke of there being peace between Tenoch and Vincana. She wants me to broker that peace through any means necessary.”

  “Through marriage.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you do not agree.”

  Marcellus stared out across the empty field. There was nothing here, no villages, the land sparse of vegetation and wildlife. Perhaps the soil here did not lend itself well to farming.

  With a sigh, he forced himself to focus on the topic of their conversation—not the land but his hand in marriage. “I thought we might be beyond a simple arrangement of marriage to unite the kingdoms, don’t you?”

  “Why would she push this on you now?”

  “Before they leave, you mean? My guess is that she knew they planned on leaving, and they hope a peaceful resolution to the war will keep the dragons away from us. They seek to keep us safe.”

  “That would be like Horatia,” Flavius muttered.

  "And why did she not be the one to suggest marriage to me?" Marcellus wondered aloud.

  “Ah…”

  “I suppose she was too busy last night.”

  "I had no notion she was saying goodbye!" Flavius clenched and unclenched his fists. Then, he grabbed his spear from his back and went through a series of actions and exercises with the weapon, various stances, and low and high strikes meant to disarm or even kill.

  Marcellus gave him a wide berth, thinking and contemplating. The loss of the Valkyries was huge. What of the few Valkyries that had been left in Vincana? Would they also seek to join their sisters and the dragons? What would the dragons have the Valkyries do?

  Honestly, Marcellus was not certain what the Valkyries of old had done for the dragons three. The dragons had both the Valkyries and the wraiths.

  The Valkyries of old, if intended to be bodyguards of the dragons, had failed time and again. The dragons had died far more times than three, but they had been resurrected many times until that one occasion when all three had died simultaneously, or so the stories claimed.

  Maybe the Vincanans had been too bold to have maintained Valkyries. Maybe their Valkyries hadn’t been on the same level as the ones that had come before. What if the dragons found these warriors lacking?

  Marcellus hated the notion that they might be killed, that they might be burned as they kneel before the dragons. They were solid warriors, loyal, true, courageous. To have them killed out of spite would be terrible for all of Dragoona.

  “You are furious,” Flavius muttered.

  Marcellus had not realized until now that he had withdrawn his sword. He sheathed it and motioned for Flavius to toss him the spear.

  Flavius did, and then he brought out his second one. The two dueled hard, causing each other to sweat, knocking each other down in turns. All the while, Marcellus’s mind raced.

  The Valkyries were gone, the dragons returned.

  The war was at a stalemate because of the dragons.

  The Valkyries leaving meant the Vincanans were down scores of their best warriors.

  But the Vincanans were not defeated. The war had not been lost. Yes, a new foe had entered the battlefield, but for now, the dragons were seemingly occupied elsewhere, and for that, Marcellus was grateful.

  It meant they could plan their next move. They did not necessarily need another massive battle the likes of the Battle of the Rivers. A battle of that size might draw the attention, and the ire, of the dragons.

  But smaller battles, ones they could strike and then retreat before a counterattack… Maybe that was
the way to go.

  Peace through marriage, though… Marcellus shook his head.

  “What are you thinking?” Flavius asked, drawing up his spear and gasping for breath.

  “You’re an old man.” Marcellus smirked.

  “A man with a few tricks up his sleeve.”

  He tried to go low and sweep Marcellus, but Marcellus blocked the blow, stepped close, and shoved his shoulder against Flavius, reaping his leg out from under him.

  “The Valkyries want peace,” Marcellus said as he held out a hand to help the commander back up to his feet. “I want peace.”

  “So you will seek marriage?”

  “I think a marriage will only happen for me once the war is over, and the war is not yet over, now, is it?”

  “Indeed it isn’t,” Flavius said.

  “Do you agree then?”

  “Agree?”

  "That we fight instead of seeking a bride for me?"

  “I do, very much so.”

  Marcellus grinned at the commander. They had delayed too long. They would move out, and they would start to claim Tenoch as their own, even if they had to do it one village at a time.

  46

  Princess Vivian Rivera

  The days and nights passed quickly, and Vivian had finally arrived at the base of the Olacic Mountains. She had stopped only when she needed to rest or could trade her horse for another one. She was on her third mount already. It would not be easy to bring a horse up and over the mountain, but that might prove wise. She could not be certain on that, though.

  Shielding her eyes with her hands, she gazed up at the sun. It was just beginning to set, at that terrible angle where it shone directly at her eyes, and she squinted. Those black specks in the distance… They were massive despite being so far away. The dragons.

  They were too far away for her to discern anything about them, not their color, not anything at all. How she longed to see them up close! Could she talk to them? The dragons had to understand human speech, certainly, didn’t they?