by Franc Ingram
"I didn't know he could do that," Born uttered. He fixed Leith with a narrow-eyed leer.
Daycia, Tycho, and Paley looked between Leith and Lysander with suspicion written on every line in their faces.
Lysander scrambled to explain himself. "The yetis are more animal than human. They might be harder to control, but Leith is up to it."
Leith wanted to clamp his hand over Lysander's mouth. He glared at Lysander begging him to stop making impossible promises. Lysander smiled, projecting an air of confidence that Leith wasn't buying.
"If the yetis are neutralized crushing Ivar will be simple," Tycho explained to The Court, even though his eyes were still locked on Leith.
"Ivar shouldn't reach our gates for another six days. That's enough time to supply the group going for Darten and prepare the shelters, but we'll need everyone's focus on the work," Born admonished.
Leith understood the point. They were spending too much time on Oleana. Now that she was awake she was essentially out of danger, so they had no excuse for spending so much time with her.
Other members of The Court agreed. Jonathan and Born were the last hold-outs, as expected. Leith didn't need their approval. It would make things easier, but it wasn't required. The majority had spoken. A quick look from Daycia urged him to be patient.
Jonathan scratched at his impossibly sharp chin. "This will be your final opportunity to prove you're kings worthy of your thrones, because if this fails there may be no coming back."
Jonathan's speech put a smug glint in Born's eyes, as if the two of them were just waiting to take over and restore what they considered order. Leith was ready to walk away from the two of them, he'd spent enough time in the crowded room to get him sweating, when Born finally nodded his consent and Jonathan right behind him. Then Leith caught a glance from Lysander which reminded him there was still a lot to discuss.
"So, if the Master of Animals is staying here, who goes to Darten?" Jonathan asked, always the man who needed the last word.
"I think Lorn should go," Born suggested. "If we're right and this is retaliation for recovering Oleana, Lorn should be far away from here. If not, and Ivar makes a move for Darten, having the archery team there would be ideal help."
Lorn looked pained. The pinched look in his bright green eyes was so wrenching, Leith felt the ache of it in his joints. But they’d discussed it earlier. Lorn's punishment was to leave, get some distance from Oleana. He didn't feel the need to tell Born that. It was best to let the man think he'd won something, get him off their backs for a moment.
"Agreed," Leith said. Born looked surprised with the quick approval. Leith liked taking some of the joy out of it for the Arismas ambassador.
Lysander looked like he wanted to say something further. Leith watched as Lysander's jaw worked and that brooding look that followed him everywhere descended over his face. The issue of going to Gaeth wasn't settled in Lysander's mind but Leith knew The Court wasn't going to agree to letting anyone go, especially now that Ivar was threatening Evermore. Lysander would just start a fight, disrupting what little goodwill they had with The Court.
"Daycia and Lysander, help me find places for 'em shelters?" Leith asked, hoping to interrupt Lysander's train of thought. "Lorn, Yael, Tycho, and Paley pick troops for Darten group, n get 'em armored and supplied." No one objected so Leith took that as consent.
Tycho slapped Lorn on the back. "I'll help young Lorn. I've been to Darten a few times. Made friends there."
"Glad to have you aboard," Lorn said, speaking up for the first time.
"Get to it," Leith urged.
Members of The Court filed out Paley doing her best to usher them along after being signaled by Daycia. The Heirs, Daycia, and Tycho lingered. Lorn looked ready to run back to Oleana, while Leith was ready to explode.
"What this bout me and yetis?"
Lysander looked around nervously to make sure everyone was out of earshot before replying. "I'm sorry. The idea just came to me. I needed something to calm the naysayers down, but really, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I just can't stand them doubting me."
"When I fail, they slaughter us." Leith yelled, making Lysander cringe.
"Well hold on, Lysander's thought was sound," Lorn offered. He ran his fingers through his hair and started bouncing on the balls of his feet which was a sure sign he was working his mind into a tizzy. "As you said, the yetis are mostly animal, even the ones that can talk. You should be able to affect them."
Leith's arms fell to his sides and his look of anger morphed to one of curiosity. "Can sense 'em when they coming."
"Exactly," Lorn said. "You do have a connection to them. The logical progression is to expand that into controlling them."
"And if we take out the yetis, Cornelius is crippled. Ivar won’t be far behind," Lysander added, his excitement building.
"Can’t be testing 'til they on us," Leith pointed out.
"No, wait. Wait." Lorn's eyes sparkled with his self-satisfied revelation. "They send scouts ahead like everyone else. Find them, test it out, and then when the main force arrives you'll know what to do. Mom is here, she can help. This'll work, I know it. Goodness!"
"I'm sorry but I still think leaving the threat of Gaeth is foolish," Lysander uttered, ruining the happy mood.
"I agree," Daycia added solemnly. "Emmaray doesn't do things halfway. Now that's she's in this fight she won’t stop until she has more land than even she would know what to do with. If she's taking slaves, then she plans to expand her capabilities in a big way."
"Court won’t agree," Leith insisted. "Threat too far way."
"So, do we blindly follow The Court, or do we do what we feel is right?" Lysander asked.
Leith wished Lysander hadn't said it like that. How could they choose the easier option with the consequences laid out so bluntly? It left no real choice, yet Leith wasn't prepared to deal with what would come out siding with Lysander.
"We go against them and they will fight back long and hard," Tycho shook his head. "You three are my kings always. I'll fight whoever you ask me to, I just want you to be sure you're ready for the blowback."
"I saw how Cornelius kept my mother, like some trophy stuck up on his wall. The look of pain etched on her face will haunt me forever." Lorn grunted, trying to hide the crack in his voice. "If Emmaray is anything like that, we can't leave anyone in her hands."
Everyone looked to him. He was the only one yet to voice his opinion, but Tycho's words worried him. They’d already lost big and here Lysander was rushing them into another conflict way too soon.
"I won't push it if we aren't all agreeable," Lysander explained. He glanced at Lorn, "we already learned from that mistake."
Lorn nodded.
"How you get there? Who go wit you?"
"I'm going," Daycia stated, leaving no room for debate.
"And I know plenty of Rangers that would volunteer for a secret mission." Tycho offered. "I also know some sailors who would donate boat and crew to the cause."
"Y'all leave me to play nice with Court," Leith muttered.
"Does that mean you're on board," Lysander asked, grabbing Leith's shoulder.
Leith nodded, "Do it," he waved them off frustrated. He pointed to his chest, "Leavin' me here deal with ‘em complaining."
"A task you are more than capable of completing," Daycia said giving Leith a brief hug.
Leith had to fight a smile. Daycia's approval meant a lot to him. Her compliments weren't just nice words. They had weight behind them. It was something Leith could lean on. "Be work to do," Leith urged.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: OLD HABITS
Oleana spent a day wrestling with her new reality. Her arm was dead. There was no more denying it and leaving it on would just bring the rest of her down with it. Lorn and the doctor had more than one whispered conversation outside the door which meant they were planning something and didn't want to worry her about it. Oleana wasn't stupid she knew what had to come. She didn't like
it. Was terrified of what it would mean for her, but she knew it had to be done.
In her medical bed she'd tried to reach out to The Twelve. They were her last, desperate hope, but all she got was static. It made no sense. She'd done what they'd built her to do. Now that her part was over there were no accolades, no congratulations, nothing. Oleana felt lost.
If she was going to lose an arm she wasn't going to do it sober. Sure, the doctor had meds that could dull the pain for her, prevent infection, and keep everything as smooth as possible, but Oleana was old school. A bottle of whiskey and a leather strap to bite down on and she could ride through anything.
With some well-timed moaning from Nadir, which drew attention to his side of the room, Oleana escaped her medical ward prison. Lorn said the guards posted were for their protection with so many refugees running around paranoid minds thought it safer to keep high value injured under guard in case someone wasn't as they seemed. As Lorn had proven, the guards were also there to keep her from wondering around before she was healthy enough. Oleana figured if her feet worked then she was healthy enough to walk.
In the hall, she kept her gaze straight ahead and moved at a reasonable pace, as not to attract a lot of attention. People moved past her without a second look. Everyone was too busy with their own business to mind hers.
Her first thought was to head to the kitchen, but she knew Lorn, and he was sure to put out an alert for her there as soon as he noticed her absence. The best bet was to go to a room she knew would have a stash. Nadir was the obvious choice, but again too obvious for Lorn not to look there too. Tycho, Daycia, and Lorn weren't drinkers. She didn't know enough about Jonathan, Paley, or Zyair to take the risk. Leith was for sure hoarding some, but the risk was too great that he would be there.
That left her with one person. Lysander. Normally he wouldn't have been on her list, but with his dad being in such rough shape, and his mom being trapped in Central City, Lysander was going through some rough times. She'd seen him visit his dad with red-rimmed eyes. That could have been from crying, but she suspected it was from late night drinking. She also knew he wouldn't be in his room because he and Daycia said they'd be spending the day dealing with the new wave of refugees.
Once she knew where she was going, Oleana couldn't help but pick up the pace. Her sore, stiff body didn't appreciate it, but focus on the prize helped her push through. Leith and Lysander were in the same hall so Oleana tiptoed past, hoping the closed door meant neither were at home. The mark on her arm gave her nothing, but that didn't mean anything since it didn't even flare a little when Lorn and Leith were standing over her. Dead arm meant no more telltale signal from her mark. Oleana would miss it. It was a part of her life that she'd taken for granted and now faced being without for the rest of the only life she had left.
Oleana shook off the growing melancholy, knowing the burn of alcohol would wash those petty problems away. Lysander's door was locked. A good sign. Oleana knew how to pick a lock. Doing it onehanded was a new experience, but she proved resourceful. The room was dark and quiet. Oleana felt around not wanting to turn on a light, letting what little outside light she had guide her way.
She checked his drawers first, but found nothing. Then a search under the bed turned up a half empty bottle of something dark and local made, no label just an etching in the glass that signified it came from an Evermore shop. She plopped herself down on the floor, leaning against his bed. She unscrewed the top with her teeth and took a whiff.
The astringent burn of alcohol was clear, but right behind it was a vanilla aroma with a cinnamon and oak after burn. Quality ingredients. She lamented having only half the bottle, but would enjoy every drop.
01100110
Lysander had come in from a long morning of helping build shelters, while spreading the news of his secret mission to select people, to find a drunk Oleana curled up on his floor. Drunk Oleana was a happy Oleana, so escorting her back to her room took minimal cajoling. Facing the disappointed look on Lorn's face was the hardest part of the whole thing for Lysander. Oleana didn't notice the hurt she caused her son.
"I thought there were supposed to be guards posted on her?" Lysander asked.
"Snuck past 'em. Woulda made great thief." Leith explained. He moved so Lysander could tuck Oleana back in her bed.
Lysander had seen soldiers with lost limbs before but had never stood and watched it happen. He wanted to leave. Would have been happy to be anywhere else, but as he'd told Lorn earlier, Oleana was an Heir, a part of him. He couldn't let her face this alone. He wished she'd left him a little of the whiskey to steady his nerves.
The doctor laid her tools out giving Lysander a flashback to when they were in Caledonia and his father was the one on the table. It was a hard memory to shake. He recalled the smell of burnt flesh, and the feel of blood on his hands. Lysander balled his fists to keep them from shaking.
"Are you sure we have to do this?" Oleana asked. She was strapped to the bed and the doctor moved to take off her sling.
Her arm fell limp at her side. Despite the bandages Lysander could see how swollen it was, fluid not able to circulate, collecting in the dead tissue. Lorn came running in before the doctor could answer.
"Mom."
Lysander moved out the way so Lorn could come in next to Oleana. The boy gave her a hug, then a kiss on the forehead. "Why would you...?" he took a good whiff of her and frowned. "Really. We're back to this? All that time sober wasted."
"Can't you let this one slide? They gonna take my arm," Oleana said, her every breath filling the air with a sharp odor.
"I'm tired of having to forgive you," Lorn replied. Sadness filled his green eyes until they sparkled like polished gems. "I'm doubling the guards."
Oleana frowned, but said nothing.
"Can we proceed?" the doctor asked flatly.
Oleana and Lorn nodded. Lysander braced himself. He would not be the one to pass out. The doctor unwrapped the upper arm from the bandages, marking off were the healthy skin was and putting a tourniquet two inches above that. She cleaned the area. Rubbed something green and pungent on it to help with the pain.
Oleana bit down on a leather strap, her eyes watching the doctor until she picked up the saw. Then she turned to stare at Lorn. Lysander could see the fear in her eyes, hated himself for being afraid of it and resenting her for showing it. Lysander cut a look at Leith who had the same whirl of emotions playing out on his face.
Lysander wasn't really sure why he did it, but he reached for Leith's hand, then for Lorn. They’d shared so much already. They could share this for Oleana, take away some of her pain. The others understood, and they didn't fight it.
It wasn't going to be like the meld they had done at Oleana's direction. Lysander didn't know how to pull that off and he didn't have time to figure it out. What he did know was that some trees linked roots, sharing water between them so all could survive. He could rig up a crude connection strong enough to do that.
The surgeon’s blade bit into Oleana and there was a two second delay before it hit Lysander. His knees wobbled, but he kept his legs under him. Leith on the end tensed a half second after that. The three of them shared the pain and fear making it manageable.
When it was all over, and the arm was gone, Lysander couldn't look. He couldn't look at the empty space because he felt as if some part of him had been taken away. He felt himself being dragged down into sleep as Oleana passed out. He released his grip on his brothers in time to prevent them from all collapsing. The lingering pain made him hug his arms tight to his chest just to make sure he was still whole.
"Let her rest," the doctor ordered.
Lysander nodded, too tired for words. The empty pit in his stomach chose that moment to remind him he hadn't eaten lunch, but he was too nauseated to think of it now. All he wanted was rest, but not alone. He couldn't be alone. He couldn't leave Oleana alone either. "We'll be in Nadir's room," Lysander told the doctor.
Lorn grabbed a chair and carried it a
s close to Oleana's side of the shared space as he could while still technically in Nadir's room. Leith draped himself over a chair in the dimly lit corner, pulled the hood of his jacket down over his eyes and drifted off to sleep without another word. Lysander starred down at his father, while Nadir's eyes were still locked on the curtain that separated them from Oleana.
"What word have you heard from Central City?" Nadir asked, his voice hardly over a whisper.
The change in focus was so abrupt it took Lysander a moment to realize what his father was talking about. Unless things were bad, news from some cities came in chunks, sometimes a month apart. With Ivar now firmly rooted between Central City and Evermore Lysander had demanded an update on his hometown, his family.
"Word came back this morning that there’s no new developments. Mother increased patrols to insure things stayed that way. The new class of Rangers are set to graduate a bit early so they can join the fight. Tycho finally got a picture of his granddaughter, Tamara. He said he would show it to you once he got the chance. She looks a lot like Kaithlen."
"I knew Lillian would have no problem leading Caledon in my absence. I just wish I could be there with her."
Lysander didn't like the note of regret in his father's tone. It scared him to hear the defeatist attitude coming from the strong man he admired so much. "You'll see her again, I promise."
"Yes but will she be interested in seeing me? Like this?"
Lysander wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't equipped for comforting grown men. "Mom loves you no matter what. So do I."
Someone cleared their throat behind them. Lysander turned to see Tycho standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry to interrupt." Tycho looked back as if he might go back out the door without saying what he came for.
Lysander wiped his eyes. "What is it?"
"I wanted to let you know, we finally secured two boats ready to take you to Gaeth, and with Ivar and most of his troops moving in from the southwest, there's a temporary clear path if you head directly south, skirting the border with Failsea."
