Engram frowned, taking a moment to size up the boy. Brom saw the moment he dismissed Gavin as unimportant. “We are not leaving here without her,” he said, pointing his sword at the unconscious girl. “She is a criminal and will answer for her crimes against Duenin.” Engram spread his arms, “As you can see we outnumber you, throw down your weapons or we will be forced to kill you.”
“You are a fool if you think to attack us.” Brom had grown tired of this man’s pompous attitude.
“Very well,” Engram motioned to his men. Brom laughed at their attempts and dodged the first attacker letting the man’s momentum carry him off balance, the second attacker brought his sword down and Brom easily blocked the man’s attack and countered with an elbow to the man’s nose.
Brom quickly brought Tryg up and shoved the sword backward through his arms. The first Severon gurgled as Tryg went through the man’s heart. Brom turned and pushed the man off his blade with his foot, the Severon falling to his knees and to his death.
He turned back to Engram and the remaining four, “Would you like to try again?”
Engram’s eyes narrowed and filled with the fire. He motioned for another attack. The next two tried to attack in unison. They came at Brom with swords drawn, approaching him cautiously. Brom simply watched them with his body relaxed and ready. They charged together, but Brom blocked the first sword and kicked the second man in the knee, breaking his leg. His screams of pain overshadowed the sound of metal hitting metal. Brom focused his attention on the remaining attacker. Brom backed the man into a tree with the tip of his sword held to the Severon’s throat.
“I surrender,” the Severon mumbled as he dropped his sword, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he lifted them.
Brom shoved the man away and turned back to face Engram once again, “Take your dead and wounded from our lands before you also feel my blade.” Brom took a step to the side as the Severon with the newly broken nose fell to the ground with an arrow in his back. Brom glanced over his shoulder at Conal.
“What?” Conal teased, “I thought he was going for his dagger.”
“I’ve suffered your presence long enough Remus Engram of the Severon. Leave now before I lose what patience I have left.” Brom sheathed Tryg, “Do not return to our lands for if I see you again or any Severon on Kai’Varian soil I will not hesitate to kill you or the rest of your men.” Brom kept his eyes trained on Engram’s. The anger that emanated from their core was palpable. Who was this man? Brom thought. To enter unfriendly territory for this scrap of a girl was truly bold if not crazy. Engram growled a command to his remaining men. They gathered their dead and helped the wounded to stand. Engram, all the while stood staring at Brom.
“What is it they call you?” Engram asked.
Brom hit his chest with a clenched fist, “Brom Da’Gaihen of the Veillen High Guard. Wielder of the Bloodsword Tryg and slayer of the graekull hordes,” he looked to the dead Severon, “and I suppose I should add Death’s Wing to Severon Fools stupid enough not to tuck tail and run when they had a chance.”
Engram nodded slowly. “It is not a name that I shall be forgetting anytime soon, Brom of the Veillen High Guard. Not a name that I shall be forgetting ever.”
Brom turned his back on the retreating Severon, a sign of disrespect in Kai’Vari that went unnoticed by the Severon. To show an enemy your back was telling them that they were no threat and easily dismissed. If Engram had been a Kai’Varian, Brom would expect an attack at any moment, but the Severon commander retreated with his men.
Brom turned his eyes to Conal and wordlessly the man knew Brom’s wishes. “Death’s Wing? Are you serious?” Conal laughed as he followed the Severon to make sure they returned to their own soil. Brom turned his attention back to the girl who remained unconscious.
Gavin had dismounted and knelt by the girl, curiosity lighting his eyes as he examined the dried blood and the uniform. Brom worried over his cousin and his lack of experience on the battlefield. The boy had been coddled all his life and was now being thrust into a millennial old war. “Who do you suppose she is?” Gavin asked as he brushed blood encrusted hair from the girl’s face. Blood, mixed with grime, covered her face making it impossible to tell her age.
“Gather some firewood,” Brom instructed Gavin.
“Aye,” Gavin set about gathering wood. “I wonder why the Severon wanted her back so badly.” Gavin continued his incessant questions. He was an avid questioner and Brom knew if he answered one the questions would never stop. No, it was best to ignore the boy’s curiosity.
Gavin dumped the wood in a heap and Brom set about starting a fire. He placed a lump of peme in the middle of the fire pit and ignited it with his knife and flint. The hard and oily lump quickly caught fire and the flames spread to the firewood. All the while Gavin droned on and on about the girl, asking endless questions. Where she came from, how old was she, why was she covered in blood? Brom had learned to tune out the boy’s constant jabbering. He looked over his shoulder and sighed, “To be a Veillen Guard you must be intimate with silence.”
Gavin looked confused for a moment, but Brom could tell when his words finally sank in. Gavin said a simple “Oh” and stood. He left the girl’s side and started to remove the saddle from his horse and untied the bedrolls. Brom sighed at the blessed quiet.
Satisfied with the fire, Brom started on Tor’s saddle and placed it on the ground. He untied the sheep’s bladder and tossed it to Gavin. Gavin understood the silent command and left the camp to fill the waterskin. The stream was not far from the camp, but it would give Brom enough time to move the girl without Gavin’s constant questions.
Brom spread a blanket close enough to the fire so the girl would stay warm. He lifted her into his arms, surprised at how light she was. The borrowed uniform concealed her petite size. Not only small, she appeared to be malnourished. Brom could feel her bones through the thick Severon uniform. Blood stains covered the material.
He examined her face as he laid her on the blanket. A large knot had formed on her head where she’d undoubtedly hit it when thrown by the graekull. Brom suspected she’d have a monster of a headache when she woke. Dried blood caked her hair and eyebrows. It looked as though she tried to clean her hands but there was still blood under her fingernails. Brom removed the heavy jacket and tossed it aside. The once white shirt beneath was now brown with dirt and grime. He untied the laces that wrapped around her legs and pulled the too large boots from her slender legs. Brom winced at the blisters that covered her toes and heels. Where she had laced the boots around her legs there were deep red marks that must have been painful.
Brom hesitated when she groaned but continued once she settled down. She wore nothing beneath the shirt. Brom could not help but notice the appealing shape of her breasts and the scars crisscrossing the tender flesh. He eased her arms from the sleeves and could feel his blood begin to boil at the number of wounds covering the girl’s body. The brutality of the Severon was rumored, but these scars were evidence that the rumors were true. Brom spread a second blanket over the girl when he heard Gavin’s footsteps. The boy would never learn to quiet his steps.
Gavin stopped short upon entering the camp. “You undressed her? That’s why you sent me away?” Gavin handed the full bladder to Brom, “I’m not a child Brom, I’ve seen naked women before.”
“Your nursemaid,” Brom said under his breath taking the bladder from Gavin and poured a small amount of the cool liquid onto the corner of the shirt. He wiped some of the grime from her forehead, exposing the tender skin beneath the layer of filth. He cleaned the blood from her eyebrows next, revealing a soft brown color, next her high cheekbones. Her dark lashes lay against the olive skin. A tiny cut was carved into her upper lip.
There was a mixture of old and new scars on her stomach, chest, and arms. He gently rolled her onto her side and grimaced at the network of scars covering her back. He returned her to her back and examined the burn marks on her arms. The twin marks appeared to be n
ewer burns that seemed on the verge of becoming infected. The skin surrounding the wounds was red and swollen, warm to the touch.
Brom gently washed the dirt and blood from the burns and cuts and applied a small amount of droglin salve into each wound. His efforts would at least keep any more dirt from entering the damaged areas. He’d leave the rest to Moira. Satisfied with his work, he threw the uniform shirt and jacket at Gavin. “What am I supposed to do with these?” the Kai’Varian noble asked.
“Throw that damn jacket in the fire, and the shirt? Clean it.”
“I’m a prince Brom, not a laundress.”
“Out here, right now, you are whatever I say you are.”
Gavin stood there for a moment weighing Brom’s ire. “Fine,” he sighed as he sulked away, mumbling about how princes should not be maids in the middle of a hunt. Brom grinned and turned his attention back to the girl. He shook her slightly to wake her, “Wake up lass.” When there was no response he lightly tapped her on the cheeks, but her eyes remained steadfastly closed. There wasn’t much he could do with her matted hair; he’d leave that for Moira to tend to.
Conal returned shortly after Gavin left. He dismounted and pulled his saddle from Riorn and placed it next to Tor’s saddle. He stopped next to the girl and examined her for a moment, “She looks familiar.”
Brom peered down at the girl. Her eyebrows formed dark slashes atop almond eyes. Her cheekbones were high, and she had a smallish nose. He thought about all the nearby Tohms but couldn’t place where he’d seen her. For the moment, however, he simply put it away in his mind for later thought.
Conal chuckled, “Pretty women all look familiar until you’re trying to remember their names after too much a’kel.”
Brom shook his head. “I suppose you’re right.” He put the matter to rest and laid down on his own bedroll. Tryg was beside him, as always, within reach. His arms behind his head, he thought on everything he had to do before journeying to Var’Khundi. This girl was an unnecessary burden he did not have time for.
“Gavin has returned.” Conal commented minutes before the boy stepped into camp. “If you make as much noise hunting graekull as you do stomping through the woods, you’ll make a horrible Veillen.” Gavin shrugged his shoulders and spread the wet shirt over a branch to dry.
“Did the Severon give you any resistance?” Brom asked Conal.
“One thought to charge me.”
“What did you do?” Gavin asked as he plopped himself down next to the fire.
Conal grinned and chuckled, “Let us say, they will be planning another funeral.”
Gavin edged closer to the girl, “Do you think she really did what they accused her of?” Gavin peered at the girl, “I mean, she’s so tiny. I don’t think she could harm a puppy.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Brom responded. “You never know what is in a person’s heart that may lead them to kill or destroy.”
“Do you believe them?” Gavin’s curiosity was avid.
“Brom, believe the Severon?” Conal laughed, “When the fires of Du’Gald go cold.”
Gavin laughed nervously, “But why chase a girl across the border? She must be very important to them.”
“Or hated,” Brom said, his eyes closed. “They wanted her back, but I doubt it is because she killed someone. More like she has or knows something they want.”
Brom watched Gavin behind his half-closed lids. The boy’s endless curiosity would get him in trouble one day. Gavin’s young hand reached out and started to lift the blanket to peak under at the girl’s body, but before he could look the girl’s eyes suddenly flew open.
Gavin jumped back in shock as the girl scrambled to her feet, pulling Gavin’s short sword from its scabbard. She took advantage of Gavin’s confusion and held the sword to his throat, using him as a hostage.
Both Brom and Conal were instantly alert and on their feet. Brom held Tryg in a loose grip while Conal had his bow at the ready, an arrow nocked.
“Let me go, do you know who I am?” Gavin spit and sputtered at the shock of being taken hostage by a scrap of a girl.
“Who are you?” The girl asked peaking around Gavin’s shoulder.
Brom opened his mouth to answer, but the words would not come. His body was frozen at the sight before him. Staring back at him were the silver eyes of a Devian.
17
Devian
A Devian? Raiken’s shocked question echoed Brom’s thoughts. It had been twenty years since he’d seen the silver eyes of a Devian. It made sense why the Severon had followed her across the border into Kai’Vari. They were obsessed with capturing every Devian they could get their hands on.
“Brom, do something,” Gavin said, his voice wavering.
“Easy there, lass,” Brom said, his hand up trying to calm the girl. The last thing he needed was for Gavin to be injured or even killed. “No one is going to hurt you.”
“Where are the Severon?” She demanded, pulling Gavin a step backward as Brom took a step forward. Despite her short stature, she was surprisingly strong to be able to hold Gavin, who was a half a head taller than the girl.
“They’re gone,” Brom took another step forward. “They won’t be able to touch you here.”
“Stay back!” She yelled at Brom as he took another step toward her.
“Easy,” Brom took another step, closing the gap between them so only a few steps remained.
“Just say the word,” Conal said softly, his bow taut and ready to release an arrow.
“Who are you people?” She asked, her eyes darting between Brom and Conal.
Kerbodia for’velki, Brom spoke the command silently in his mind to Raiken. Brom faded into the Veil and through the blue haze he could see the girl’s eyes widen in shock as he disappeared from her sight. She pulled Gavin backward and pressed the sword to his neck. A thin line of blood beaded on his neck.
“Where did he go?” She frantically searched for Brom, while pulling Gavin backward with her.
“I’m right here,” Brom said after releasing his hold on Raiken. He grabbed hold of her arm that held the sword to Gavin’s neck and easily pulled the weapon from her frail and emaciated hand.
She fell backward with a squeak as she scrambled away from Brom’s sudden appearance. She pressed her back against the rough bark of a bareq tree, she must have just realized her chest was bare for she quickly covered herself with her arms and glared at Brom with eyes that could melt steel.
“You’re…” Brom started but was interrupted by Gavin’s outraged tantrum.
“How dare you threaten me!” He turned on the girl, his arms flailing about like an apoplectic toddler.
“Gavin,” Brom pulled the boy away from the girl who was staring daggers at Gavin’s youthful outrage, “get a hold of yourself.” He shoved Gavin toward Conal and slowly crouched so he was near eye level with the girl. She quickly covered herself with the blanket he offered to her.
“You’re safe here,” he started, “the Severon have left with fewer men than they came with.” Brom paused while the girl absorbed his words. “You’re in the Pan’Dale Hold region of Kai’Vari.”
She looked from Brom to Conal, then Gavin, “I made it?” She asked as her eyes darted back to Brom. I really made it. Sterling couldn’t help the tears that gathered behind her eyes as the realization that she was no longer where the Severon could touch her.
“I made it, I’m really in Kai’Vari?” she asked again as if she needed the reassurance she was truly in Kai’Vari.
“Aye,” Brom nodded, “you’re safe.”
Sterling felt a tremendous weight lift off her shoulders as she stared up at the man who had disappeared before her eyes and reappeared next to her. He was large, at least six feet with broad shoulders and long brown hair that touched his shoulders and was partially pulled back in a leather strap. His beard was scruffy and showed bits of red in the stubble. He was bare chested with an intricate tattoo spread across half his chest and down his right arm.
> The other two were standing back watching her. One with the bow was elbowing the younger one and teasing him about being taken hostage by a mere girl.
“I’m Brom, Brom Da’Gaihen,” Brom said as he reached out his hand for the girl to help her stand. When she placed her hand in his he could feel tremors that shook her body. He helped her to her feet where she wobbled for a moment. “What is your name, lass?”
She looked at him briefly, her eyes glazing over, “I’m…” she paused, her hand going out to steady herself, “I’m Sterling, Sterling Rin’Ovana.”
Brom’s breath caught in his chest at the name she threw at him. Rin’Ovana? That’s impossible, he thought. He opened his mouth to speak his thoughts but stopped when she collapsed. He caught her, lifting her in his arms, her body limp with exhaustion.
“Did I hear her correctly?” Conal asked. “Did she say Rin’Ovana?”
Brom closed his eyes for a second to gain his composure before responding, “Aye, she did indeed.” Brom laid Sterling down and covered her with the blanket. She seemed to be resting peacefully despite the wounds that ravaged her body.
“How is that even possible?” Conal asked. Brom stood and backed away from Sterling, the same question and more were in a jumble in his head. A Devian, but she couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen summers.
He needed answers, and the only person who could provide them was asleep. Brom took a deep breath and settled his thoughts and his nerves, “There won’t be any answers for the time being.” Brom took Tryg off his back and set the sword down beside his bedroll and stretched out his body. Both Gavin and Conal followed suit and they lay there in silence listening to the crackle of the fire. Brom closed his eyes, but sleep did not come easily. Dreams of his past swirled around in his head. Memories of silver eyes, laughing with love and tenderness occupied his sleep.
Brom, Raiken’s voice jolted Brom awake. His Velkuva’s voice only came to him when there was danger.
The Elemental Union: Book One Devian Page 12
