The Elemental Union: Book One Devian

by Shanna Bosarge

  Brom chuckled, “There are far better warriors than myself.”

  “I hear you have one of my Tohmsmen as a nor this season,” Torre said wiping his blade clean.

  “Tibal,” Brom said, “he’s part of the main family.”

  Torre shook his head, “That there is a smart lad, but he’s spoiled as you’d expect. If you keep after him he’ll prove his worth.”

  “Thanks for the help,” Vez said, “its unsettling, the number of graekull that have been seen recently.”

  “They seem more organized,” Torre rubbed his chin. “It’s as if they are testing our defenses.”

  “Now you’re just being paranoid,” Vez laughed and smacked Torre on the back. “They’re nothing but mindless beasts.”

  Brom could not deny that the number of sightings was troubling. He could only hope Streeger returned quickly with more men.

  23

  Shorn

  “She’s finally asleep,” Moira whispered to Raane, pulling the door shut behind her.

  “I’m sorry, milady, I blame myself for the little miss’s fever. She insisted on going with me to hunt for truffles yesterday.”

  Moira smiled and patted Raane on the shoulder, “No matter, she’s better now.” Raane was such a sweet girl, but naïve. Everyone in the Pan’Dale Keep knew that Lirit had Raane wrapped around her little finger.

  “You must be exhausted,” Moira gave Raane a gentle push toward her room, “go rest while you can.”

  “Yes milady,” Raane bowed and hurried down the hall.

  Moira wished she could crawl into her own bed and take a relaxing nap. She was exhausted after caring for both Sterling and Lirit. Her back ached after hours of leaning over while tending to her daughter, but she found some relief knowing Lirit’s fever had finally broken. Lirit wasn’t a sickly child compared to some, but fevers seemed to shadow her more often these days.

  The whole while Moira had tended to Lirit her mind kept wandering to Sterling. She hoped Gilda had not been too rough with her. Gilda was a strict woman, but she was also very caring. The maid had seen Moira and Brom through their most difficult times after their parent’s deaths. Moira had been only six at the time and Brom eight. Gilda had taken care of them until Khort and Sylvie had taken them from their abusive uncle. Not wanting to be separated, Gilda had left Sela’Char and stayed with Khort at the Rin’Ovana Keep.

  Moira wanted to check on Sterling, but her stomach ached from hunger. She made her way down the hidden stairs from the living quarters to the kitchens. She was certain that Sterling would be hungry as well after the grueling bath she had endured. Moira would have Vita fix a tray for them both.

  The kitchen was bustling with activity. Moira had to dodge the housemaids as they moved about prepping for another great feast. Unlike most Tohms the warriors at Pan’Dale dined with their Arl. If left unchecked the dinners at Pan’Dale would turn into chaotic celebrations, especially if she was not there to keep the order. Moira found Vita standing over a huge pot, stirring a boiling concoction. Moira asked, “What are you preparing Vita?”

  “Oy,” Vita jumped in surprise, “this is not food, milady.”

  “Oh?” Moira looked in the pot.

  “Gilda asked me to boil her skirts. She said something about removing a stench that no soap could clean.” Moira thought Vita was joking at first, but her heart sank as the cook explained further. “She came in here with scratches all over her face and a bundle of towels filled with hair. She was grousing about having to bathe a wild animal. She asked that I boil her skirts to get the smell out of them.”

  “What a fool I am.” Moira’s heart fell to her stomach as she turned and ran from the kitchens. She rushed past the maids that were cleaning and right into her husband’s solid chest. The impact nearly knocked her to the floor. Moira quickly steadied herself and brushed passed Orrven. She heard him call after her, but she had no time to linger.

  What had Gilda done to Sterling? Moira lifted her skirts and took two steps at a time until she reached the living quarters.

  “Oy,” Orrven called out after her, following her up the stairs, “what is your hurry?” Orrven stopped behind her, grasping her shoulders.

  Moira bent over briefly to catch her breath. Pushing away from the wall, she continued to Sterling’s room. Her hand hovered over the handle. It was her fault for leaving Sterling with Gilda. She knew Gilda had a temper, but she never thought she would abuse a guest. She steeled her resolve and turned the knob, but Orrven stopped her, “What is going on Moira?”

  “Sterling,” Moira took a deep breath, “she’s been through so much and I fear I may have made it worse.”

  Moira turned away from Orrven and gently opened the door, afraid of what she would find on the other side, her heart racing. The sun shone brilliantly through the open windows giving the room a cheery feel. “Sterling?” Moira called out but there was no answer. She pushed the door open and stepped fully into the room, Orrven following close behind. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said to her husband without turning.

  “There is no way I’m leaving you alone with someone that could harm Gilda. That girl must be a monster.”

  “She’s not a monster. I’m sure she is just frightened.”

  Orrven closed the door and leaned against the wall and waited while Moira searched for their guest. “Sterling?” Moira called out again. The bed had been made and there was no sign that it had been disturbed since this morning. “Sterling, where are you?”

  Moira glanced at the open window when the curtains billowed in the gentle breeze. No, Moira whispered to herself, dread filling her heart as she rushed to the window. She leaned out the opening and looked down, knowing Sterling would not have survived a fall from this height. Relief swallowed the dread, Sterling was not below. The fact that the room overlooked the barracks and training grounds deepened her relief. Sterling would have been noticed if she had leapt from the windows.

  Approaching the bed, she got down on hand and knee and looked under the massive piece of furniture. “Where is she?” Moira asked aloud.

  A thump followed by a muffled moan caused Moira’s head to come up. She looked to Orrven to see if he had heard the noise. His eyes were trained on the large wardrobe that sat against the opposite wall from the windows. His hand was on the hilt of his sword, ready for any threat.

  Moira stood, straightening her skirts as she walked slowly across the room afraid of what she would find. Her hands were shaking as she reached for the handles of the wardrobe. She frowned at the thick leather belt that was wrapped around the handles holding the doors tightly shut. She jumped when Orrven stopped her with his hands over hers, “Let me.” He took Moira’s place, removing the belt and pulling the double doors open.

  He slowly opened the doors, and then knelt to put a hand out to Sterling. A swift, well placed kick came out of the darkness, knocking Orrven backward. Moira leaped forward, making sure her husband was unhurt. Seeing the sword still in his hand, and knowing her husband’s need for order in his home, she quickly reminded Orrven, “She’s only a girl.” Helping him to his feet, she asked, “Are you hurt?”

  “Don’t mind,” he said, rubbing his chest. He quickly stood, sheathing his sword, “See to your guest.” If Moira had not been here, he thought, I may have taken care of this problem forever.

  Moira turned back to the wardrobe. The sight before her sent her blood into a boil. How could Gilda have done such a thing? Sterling lay naked in the base of the wardrobe with her hands and feet bound with torn scraps of fabric. A gag had been stuffed cruelly into her mouth. Sterling’s gaze zeroed in on Moira with distrust and anger swirling in their silver depths.

  Moira’s own anger spiked at Sterling’s condition, but it wasn’t only the sight of the gag or the bindings that fueled Moira’s anger. No, it was Sterling’s lack of hair that angered her the most. Sterling’s long hair had been cut haphazardly with strands sticking out in all directions and at different lengths. Moira had wanted so much
to see Sterling with her long hair hanging in waves around her shoulders, to see the girl whole again, but Gilda had hacked off the long tresses.

  “Let me help you,” Moira whispered as she gently removed the cloth from Sterling’s mouth. “I promise I never meant for this to happen.” Moira tried to explain as she helped Sterling into a sitting position. Moira took the small knife she wore at her waist and cut the bonds on Sterling’s feet and then her hands. Angry marks marred Sterling’s skin where the fabric had been tied tightly around her wrist. Her skin was bright pink and raw from Gilda’s rough handling.

  Bruises? thought Moira, who could put bruises on this already wounded girl?

  Guilt caused tears to form at the back of Moira’s throat, “I’m truly-”

  Moira’s apology was cut short when Sterling suddenly lunged for the knife. She threw Moira to her back, sitting on top of her with the pilfered knife held to Moira’s throat. Moira had no time to react to Sterling’s attack before she was pulled off Moira and thrust against the wall.

  “Orrven!” Moira scrambled to her feet, her hand on her husband’s arm.

  Orrven held Sterling in place, his hand around her throat while she dangled inches from the floor. “Orrven, please, you’re choking her,” Moira pleaded.

  “Do not think to harm my family,” Orrven snarled at Sterling while ignoring Moira’s pleas, squeezing his hand tighter around Sterling’s slender throat. Being the leader of the Vesperrin, Orrven demanded his orders be followed without question. He demanded the same from Sterling. “If any harm comes to my family, or anyone within the Pan’Dale hold I’ll run you through without a moment’s hesitation.”

  Sterling desperately grasped on to Orrven’s arm as he held her aloft. Her eyes were wide and full of fear. She tried kicking Orrven, but with her tiny stature her legs barely reached him. “Maybe this is why you were tied like a wild animal,” Orrven said as he raised his sword slightly, “perhaps Gilda is smarter than us all.”

  “Orrven, please.” Moira pulled on her husband’s arm as Sterling’s lips started to turn blue.

  He finally released her, letting her fall to the floor in a disheveled heap, “Devian or no you will respect this Tohm and the care you’ve been given. If you ever lay a hand on anyone in this Tohm again, you will regret ever setting foot on Pan’Dale land.” Orrven stepped back and looked down at Moira, “You are not to be alone with her again, is that clear?”

  “Yes dear,” Moira knew now was not the time to argue with her husband.

  He was impossible to assuage when his temper was up. She would corner him when he was in a better mood. He gave Sterling one last glance before opening the door and bellowing for the guards. Drake and Culan, two his most reliable guards, quickly came to their Arl’s call and Moira could hear him speaking to them about standing guard. Drake nodded and peered through the open door, his cheeks red with embarrassment. After Orrven left them, Drake stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

  “I’m to stay with you while you are alone with her.” Drake’s eyes were averted from Sterling, who sat huddled, naked, against the wall.

  Moira sighed, “At least turn away while I tend to her.”

  “Yes milady,” Drake jumped and turned facing the corner of the room.

  Moira turned back to Sterling and stared down at her. She looked pitiful with her hair sticking up in all directions. Sterling ran her hand through the strands as if to make sure she still had hair on her head.

  “Sterling.” Moira crouched in front of Sterling, “I am so sorry this happened to you. I blame myself for Gilda’s actions. It is my fault for leaving her with you. I knew she had a temper and had I not left, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Moira felt like she needed to connect with the girl about what had happened earlier. “I know that you’ve lost much,” she said, looking deep into Sterling’s silver eyes, “but if you trust my care at all, you must try not to hurt those who are trying to help you.”

  Sterling nodded slightly, in agreement. She considered Moira’s apology for a moment. “It is only hair, it’ll grow back,” the emotionless response cut Moira to the bone. “I’ve had much worse done to me.” Sterling looked at Moira, her eyes unwavering.

  “Yes, I suppose you have.” Moira stood and offered her hand to Sterling, “Come along, let me tend to your wounds.”

  Sterling stared at Moira’s offered hand for a long moment as if trying to choose if she should trust Moira. Coming to a decision, she reached out and took Moira’s hand. Moira was thankful she hadn’t completely lost what little trust she had gained. Pulling Sterling to her feet, Moira wrapped a sheet around her shoulders and led her to the bed. “Come sit.”

  Sterling kept glancing at Drake, whose back was to them. “Don’t mind him,” Moira whispered, “he’s as harmless as a fluffy kitten.”

  Drake coughed to indicate that he’d heard the remark.

  Moira smiled at the surprise on Sterling’s face and though she tried to subdue it, Sterling smiled behind her hand. “You have a beautiful smile,” Moira said as she moved Sterling’s hand away from her mouth, “it would be a shame to hide it.”

  Sterling’s smile melted as the laughter fled from her eyes and she returned to the somber girl Brom had brought to Moira. Little by little, Moira said to herself, I will break down the wall Sterling has erected around her heart.

  “My fool husband,” Moira muttered, examining Sterling’s neck. Orrven had left a large handprint around her neck. “He went and ruined all my hard work.”

  “He was protecting you,” Sterling replied, adjusting the sheet tighter around her shoulders. “It’s good that he does not trust me. If I were he, and given the chance, I would run anyone through that tried to harm my loved ones.” Moira thought she heard a twinge of regret in Sterling’s words.

  “You’ve put on some weight since you arrived,” Moira said, walking back to the wardrobe. She shuffled the dresses back and forth until she found what she was looking for, “You need some proper clothes to wear. We’ve burned the remains of the uniform you were wearing. This is an old gown I wore when I was much younger and no longer fits me.” Moira pulled out a soft silvery blue dress that she thought would accent Sterling’s eyes.

  The look that Sterling gave Moira was one of pure disgust, “I’m not wearing a dress.” Sterling shook her head and pointed at Drake, “Give me some boy clothes and I’ll be fine.

  “B- boy clothes?” Moira was both shocked and disappointed at Sterling’s refusal to wear the lovely dress she had chosen for her.

  “Yes, some trousers and a shirt.” Sterling said it so matter-of-factly it was obvious that was her normal choice of clothing.

  “Absolutely not.” Moira shook her head

  “Why not?” Sterling stood, the sheet wrapped tightly around her shoulders

  “I’ll not have a lady guest in my house wearing hand me down boy clothes.”

  “Well I’m not wearing that dress.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “No, I am not.”

  Moira felt her temper flare. Boy clothes. She’d never heard the like, a girl wearing boy clothes. She’d be damned if she let a girl as beautiful as Sterling wear filthy boy clothes.

  “After today,” Sterling’s eyebrow rose, “I think you at least owe me the clothes that I want to wear.”

  Moira’s ire deflated at Sterling’s comment. She knew Sterling was trying to use guilt to force her into giving her what she wanted, but still it disappointed her.

  A soft cough from Drake drew both of their attention, “Milady, you could take her to see Master Bennet.”

  Moira thought for a moment, and agreed, “Yes, an excellent idea Drake.” Moira held the dress up, “If you wear this dress for now, I’ll have some proper clothes made for you. But I’ll not have you wearing old hand-me-downs. Just for now of course until I take you to see Bennet, you’ll have to wear this dress.”

  “Very well,” Sterling conceded to the compromise, but the look she ga
ve the dress was one of contempt.

  Moira smiled. “It’s a deal,” she said as she approached Sterling with the dress. “We’ll just see how this dress fits.” With the experience of dealing with her daughter’s penchant to wiggle and run away, Moira pulled the dress over Sterling’s head and had both arms in the sleeves before Sterling could react.

  “It’s just as I thought,” Moira smiled, “this shade of blue compliments your eyes perfectly. What do you think Drake?”

  The poor man, he gave Sterling a quick look over his shoulder. His cheeks darkened as his eyes scanned Sterling’s figure. He nodded his head without uttering a word. She knew he wished for nothing more than to sink in to the floor. “Ogan’s breath, you can turn around now Drake,” Moira said when he continued to face the corner. Moira laughed and whispered, “You’d never think he was married with six little ones running around.”

  “My wife will kill me if she finds out I’m in another woman’s room,” Drake groused under his breath.

  Moira’s smile faded as she watched Sterling run her hands through her hair again. It was obvious she missed her long tresses, but the short hair seemed to suit Sterling. She was tiny in stature, only coming to Moira’s shoulder, but she had a graceful form with a slender neck.

  “Before we do anything else, we need to do something about that hair.” Moira pulled the stool away from the vanity, “Sit”

  Sterling hesitated for just a moment before sitting. She examined herself in the mirror and then looked down as if unwilling to look at herself. Moira ran her hands through the strands, some were still to her shoulders, while the others stood up in spiky bunches. Moira pulled open a drawer in the vanity and rifled around until she found a tiny pair of scissors, “Don’t worry, I cut Orrven’s hair all the time.”

  They sat in silence for a while, the only sound was of the scissors snipping away at Sterling’s hair. The brown tresses fell on the sheet that Moira had draped over Sterling’s shoulders. After having been scrubbed half a dozen times, Sterling’s hair was soft, and the thick strands seemed to accept the new style rather nicely.