The Last Ward

by Jessica Wayne

  Dax growled deep in his throat. A sound more beast than man. “His death was followed by the massacre of his entire family, including his little brother and sister who hadn’t even gone through the change yet.”

  “They would have, and then we would have killed them anyway. Better to save the time, don’t you think?”

  Dax didn’t respond, knowing whatever he said would be tossed out the window just as his relationship with his father had been. There was no making Amos Ward see anything but what he chose to see and believe. And if the conversation continued, he’d have his own father’s blood on his knuckles.

  “Where’s Lawson?” Dax asked, changing the subject.

  Amos straightened, his tone changing to the cold detachment Dax was used to. “Preparing for his ceremony. Perhaps you can try to not make an utter ass of yourself while you’re here.”

  “No promises,” Dax said with a dark smile.

  Amos turned and left, and Dax cursed under his breath. Damn, he needed a drink.

  Anything to make these three days less miserable than they were already turning out to be.

  2

  The academy’s pub was crowded tonight, full of Guardians and their families waiting for the ceremony to start. All around him people laughed, shared stories, and enjoyed their companions while Dax kept to himself and did his best to stay the hell away from his father.

  Downing his second ale, Dax sent up a silent thank-you to God above that the edge of his earlier conversation was beginning to wear off. No need to bring his foul mood to Lawson when he finally saw him.

  His father had never been one for kind conversation with his children, but at least they’d had some form of a relationship before the night that changed everything.

  Dax closed his eyes, wishing he could erase memories of the carnage, or the way dark armor looked coated in bright red blood.

  He wished like hell he could erase the screams of his friend’s family and the copper tang that hung in the air once the battle was over. If you could even call it that. A battle should be a fight between armed opponents with the ability to defend themselves. Not against innocent victims armed with nothing but words and tears. They’d forced the parents to watch as their children—one no older than six—be killed in the name of a king who surely didn’t know about the atrocities going on outside his castle.

  No, this particular order had been sent from none other than Dax’s father after a conversation he overheard between Dax and Lawson about their mutual friend’s change.

  The weight of those deaths hung on Dax like the heaviest iron, and was something he would never be able to let go.

  “Daxon Ward. As I live and breathe! Is that you?” A hand clasped his shoulder, and Dax turned to face Oliver Stein, his once best friend.

  Grinning, Dax held out a hand and pushed the memories aside. “Good to see you, Ollie.”

  “You too, man!” Oliver leaned against the bar top, his armor making it nearly impossible for him to sit on the small barstool. “How are you doing?”

  “Good, just staying busy.”

  “Bedding women, you mean.” Oliver winked, and Dax smiled. Some people never changed.

  “When I find a willing one and the time to properly care for her needs.”

  “Man, I envy you.”

  “Don’t.”

  “How’s life on the road?”

  “Fulfilling. How about you?”

  Oliver’s eyes darkened. As a child he’d never had a taste for battle, so when Dax told him of his plans to not join the Guardians, Oliver had been more than happy to stand by his side. Until his own father broke his nose and arm. “It’s good, Brother.”

  Dax nodded, understanding his old friend had no interest in discussing it.

  “How long you here for?” Oliver raised his hand to order an ale.

  “Just through the ceremony. I doubt I’ll make it much longer than that.”

  “Ah. Conversation with the old man not go well?”

  Dax stared down into his nearly empty cup. “Does it ever?”

  “For us, unfortunately not.”

  “I imagine things with yours have gotten better since you’ve been serving the Guardians for what—nearly a decade now?”

  “You’d think. But until I marry and produce sons, I’m still utter garbage to him.”

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  “Especially since I have no interest in anyone they insist would be a good match.”

  “No lovely woman calling to you?”

  “Most of them are high maintenance, and the ones who aren’t—your sister, for instance—are already married.”

  Dax lightly punched Oliver in the arm. The bastard had been making passes at Mariana since they’d been teens.

  Oliver chuckled before glancing over to the other side of the bar. “I think it’s time to take my leave. Looks like you’re going to have company.”

  Dax followed his eyesight and groaned. Here she comes. Corrine strolled toward them, long copper gown swaying as she walked, her hair—nearly the same color as her gown—braided up on top of her head, baring a slender, pale neck.

  She was gorgeous, a picture of beauty and grace, and someone he wanted nothing to do with.

  “Daxon,” she said, her melodious voice drifting over to him even before she reached where he sat.

  “See you later,” Oliver said softly.

  “Coward,” Dax murmured, earning a soft chuckle from his friend. “Corrine,” he greeted as she slid onto the stool beside him.

  “You look well.” Brown eyes narrowed on his face before traveling down his body. She’d made no secret of the fact she’d wanted to bed him—whether they were married or not. If he'd been a better man, perhaps the thought of rolling around in the sheets with someone he despised wouldn't have sounded like such a damn good idea. In fact, the way she was looking at him now made it hard for him to remember just what it was about her he found so intolerable.

  “You do too.”

  She grinned, leaning back in her seat and twirling a stray strand of hair around her finger. “Thank you.”

  Dax nodded and ordered another ale.

  “How have you been?”

  He turned his attention back to her. “Good, and you?”

  “Waiting for my fiancé to return, so lonely.” She pouted, plump red lips pursing.

  There it is. The same spoiled Corrine I'd been more than happy to run from. “I’m not your fiancé anymore, Corrine. That ship sailed when I chose to not join the Guardians.”

  She laughed and touched his arm. “I’m not talking about you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “I’m betrothed to Lawson now. Once he takes his Vows, we will be married.” Her eyes turned almost dreamy, and Dax offered a smile, relieved he hadn't made a move on his momentary thought about taking her to bed.

  His younger brother was going to have his hands full with this one. “Well, let me be the first to offer my congratulations.” Lifting his mug, he nodded before turning it up and drinking deeply.

  “You aren’t jealous, are you?” Eyes wide, she stared at him, hopeful.

  “Not even in the slightest. You and Lawson will be good together.”

  She gave him a disappointed stare, before getting to her feet. “You could have had me,” she whispered lowly into his ear. “All of me.” Rubbing her chest against his arm, she leaned in closer. “Perhaps you still can.”

  Ballsy, he had to give her that. “You’re engaged to my brother, Corrine. Best keep your gown down and your legs closed until you’re married.”

  She snapped back as if he’d slapped her. “How dare you speak to me that way! I am Corrine Vakters and you will speak to me with respect.”

  Not interested in giving her the public fight she was aiming for, Dax got to his feet. “Good to see you.”

  Turning, he headed for the stairs that would take him down into the ceremonial room, the large space where his brother and the other Guardians would be
taking their vows within the hour.

  He must’ve been crazy for coming tonight, hell he’d almost skipped it. But Guardian or not, Lawson was his brother, and they’d once been thick as thieves. Missing tonight, when it was so important to him, would’ve been a mistake and something Dax wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself for.

  Better to have a clear conscience than a heavy heart.

  The stairs opened up into a large space with rows of stone seating cascading down to an open floor, large enough to host the hundreds of people who would be in attendance this evening. The stone floor shone with the polish applied by squires hoping to one day take their own Vows.

  Flames licked the walls from sconces, illuminating the space, and Dax found a seat at the very top, already ready for it to be over with so he could grab his horse and go.

  There was no way in hell he was going to last the three-day festival when he’d barely made it past dinner.

  Scowling, Dax stared down as the five board members—his father included—walked out onto the stone floor, each carrying a torch that would light the copper bowl of fire for each of the five main families.

  Attendees made their way inside as the five men below lit their own flames, his father lighting the Wards, Corrine’s father, the Vakters, Tready Brillom lighting his family’s, Oliver’s father, Michal, lit theirs, and last but not least, the Yagers’ bowl roared to life.

  The men bowed their heads at the flames before dousing their torches in the bucket of water waiting beside and taking their seats on the first level with their families.

  An old man walked out, back hunched, cane in hand, and made his way to the center of the floor as the last of the attendees took their seats.

  “We are gathered here today to celebrate the Vows these men of honor have chosen to take. Each man here tonight will be inducted into the Guardians and will stand with dignity beside their brothers as they fight for the good of the realm.” The man's shaky voice filled the space, and it took everything in Dax not to scoff at his words.

  “It is a great honor to be a member of such a fantastical organization, and to be the only light standing in the way of complete darkness. Our bloodlines are the only ones powerful enough to hold the abominations at bay, and we will continue to do so, even if it means trading our lives for the betterment of the realm!”

  Cheers erupted through the space and Dax leaned back against the stonewall, arms folded.

  If slaughtering innocents was how they bettered the realm, they should simply let the magickal creatures take over. Their reign couldn’t be much worse.

  “Tonight marks the beginning of a lifetime adventure for these men, and we cheer them for their honor, for their courage, and for the fight in their hearts!”

  More cheers as the man left the center of the room and took a seat beside Dax’s father.

  The sound of heavy armored footsteps filled the space as the future Guardians were marched in from a tunnel. Their voices were silent, and since they were in full armor, Dax was unable to determine which of the men were Lawson.

  Once they were inside, their footsteps fell silent and even Dax had to admit the sheer number was impressive.

  The three hundred completely filled the space, not an inch to spare.

  Amos stood and faced the large group of men. “Today marks the first day you become men! You entered this academy wide-eyed and weak, and you leave it eyes ready to see the enemy and bodies trained to kill those who seek to destroy our realm!”

  The trainees called out, battle cries so loud they nearly shook the walls, and stomped their feet. Then as one, they stopped and the hall fell back into complete silence.

  “You will take your vows today as a brotherhood, one solid entity who will stand together, an unmovable wall of good.”

  “So apparently we’re just repeating what the old man said,” Dax muttered to himself, earning a nasty look from the man beside him. Shrugging, Dax turned his attention back to the center.

  “Are you ready, men?” Amos’s voice boomed. A voice that had once struck nothing but fear in Dax, and now just annoyed him.

  “Yes, sir!” the men replied at once.

  “Then begin your vows!”

  As one, the men below began to chant, “We are the light in the dark, the good in a world of evil. We vow to stand united, brother beside brother, and fight for the realm and the king until our blood spills and we breathe our last breath. We will not defect or our punishment will be death by the very blade we carry at our side. We are Guardians!”

  The room erupted with cheers once again, all those who watched jumping to their feet and calling down to their loved ones below.

  Dax stood and leaned back against the wall as his father beamed with pride out at the men before him. It should’ve bothered him that not once had Amos Ward looked at his eldest son with that same pride, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Or perhaps that was just what he told himself.

  With a wave of his hand, Amos silenced the crowd. “Go, Guardians. Celebrate your Vows and embrace your family, for in three days you will march to your posts and take your spot on the frontline!”

  More cheers and the new Guardians marched back out of the tunnel as the audience members walked carefully toward the stairs that would take them back above to the rooms prepared for their feasts.

  Dax waited until the space was empty, and walked down the steps toward the copper bowl where his family’s flame still danced, and would continue to burn until it went out on its own.

  Tracing his fingers along the carved design, Dax was surprised the outside of the bowl was cool to the touch even though he could feel the heat coming off the flame.

  His family crest—a lion wrapped in vines—was carved at the front of the bowl, the vines cascading around the outside. It truly was beautiful, and once upon a time he’d dreamt of wearing that crest proudly.

  None of it mattered now though; he couldn’t look back or ignore what he knew of the Guardians and their true mission: to cleanse the realm of all magickal creatures whether it was deserved or not.

  “Daydreaming?”

  Dax turned to the familiar voice, smile spreading as he looked upon his brother. Lawson’s light brown hair was cut short—nearly completely gone—his face clean-shaven and blue eyes bright. He looked happy, and Dax reached forward to embrace him. “Congratulations, Lawson.”

  Lawson laughed. “I appreciate it, but I also know you don’t mean it.”

  “Of course I do. You worked hard. Whether I chose the same path or not doesn’t make me any less proud of you.”

  Lawson smiled, the dimple on the right side of his cheek showing itself. “Thanks, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you here.”

  “You’re my brother, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  Lawson’s fingers traced the same family crest engraved on the back of his helmet. “You talk to father yet?”

  Smile vanished, Dax nodded. “Unfortunately.”

  “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

  “It went about as good as I thought it might.” He clasped his brother’s shoulder. “But we aren’t here for that, we’re here for you.”

  Lawson grinned before his eyes darkened. “I need to talk to you about Corrine.”

  “I already know,” Dax said with a smile. Lawson had a gentle heart, and Dax imagined hearing he was to marry his brother’s betrothed hadn’t been something he’d cared much for.

  “I’m sorry, Dax. I tried to talk father out of it.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for, I’m happy for you. Corrine is a beautiful woman, but a woman I’ve never had feelings for.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Positive.” Dax grinned. “Besides, if I were to get married, women everywhere would weep.”

  Lawson laughed, and Dax joined in on it. “Weep for joy perhaps.”

  Both brothers laughed, their differences forgotten, and for a moment the weight of the realm fel
l from Dax’s shoulders. But moments were fleeting, and soon Amos was stepping into the space and strolling toward them, arrogance lacing every step.

  “Lawson, your mother and I were looking for you.”

  Lawson bowed his head. “I apologize, Father, I was catching up with Daxon.”

  “Telling him of the pride you felt today?”

  “And the hunger,” Dax retorted with a smile. Guardians were forced to fast the day of their vows. It was why the ceremony took place at night rather than first thing in the morning.

  Amos lifted his upper lip in disgust. “You always did have a smart mouth.”

  “That’s kind of you, Father. I’ve not considered myself much of a scholar before now.”

  Amos shook his head, and Lawson bit back a laugh, earning a glare from their father. “Go upstairs, your mother is waiting for you.”

  “Yes, Father. See you later, Daxon.”

  Dax nodded at his brother. “Maybe one day you can treat him like the man you proclaim he is.”

  Amos shook his head and looked him up and down, disgust raising his upper lip. “I often wonder what I did to deserve such a disappointment.”

  “I often wonder the same thing. Perhaps we aren’t so different after all.”

  Amos stepped toward him, but Dax held his ground. The intimidation might have worked when he was young, but it did nothing to him now. “You and I are as different as night and day, and this will be the last time I allow you to tarnish our family name.”

  Dax lifted an eyebrow. “I doubt this is the last time I will embarrass you.”

  “It will be, because as of right now you are no longer a Ward.”

  Dax’s eyes widened. Dread settled in his belly like stones in a river. “You are casting me out?”

  Amos grinned. “I am. It will be the best decision I’ve ever made aside from marrying your mother. You are no longer welcome with us, Daxon. You are a bastard, a man with no name and no honor.”

  Dax’s jaw tightened, and he balled a fist.