Browan had given the order to the Elemental High Council to support Londess in 'any defensive or offensive strategy taken against the Separatist Army and the Tal'lean forces, even so much as occupying foreign lands to assure the continued safety of its allies and carry out retributive actions to conquer the threat permanently and bring peace between all Kingdoms'. They had just made the announcement that morning, essentially giving Browan his seat as the hero of the war before it had even started.
Which was exactly what he had wanted, Veria thought, picking at a plate of lunch at the desk in the office alcove where she had been sleeping the past week, going over the morning's briefing in her head. His plan was going exactly how he had plotted it over a decade ago, the plan that her father had given up his life to not be a part of, the plan that Browan concocted as a young, new king and never abandoned after all these years—not even after he fell in love with her.
His whole adult life he had worked toward this bloody battle, this destruction and chaos, this cloak-and-dagger takeover. He had almost fifteen years of planning under his belt, and they had one. How could they possibly hope to win—a hundred of them with a year of planning against thousands of troops on both sides of the battle and a man who had been plotting it for so long? Surely since he first met Veria and brought her into his life willingly to use as another of his pawns, he had come up with some sort of plan of contention in case she found him out and turned against him?
Her pulse quickened and her heart pounded uncomfortably in her chest, and her hand started to tremble so badly she was forced to put down her spoon.
“Are you alright?” came a voice behind her, lilting with its dulcet accent, and warm in its concern.
Veria sighed and let out an icy laugh. “I'll be fine, or we will all be dead in a week. Either way, no need to feign concern or waste precious breath on my welfare,” she grumbled in a sarcastic tone.
“Just tell me what's wrong, Veria,” Andon murmured.
“What's wrong?! What's wrong?!” she jumped from her seat, sending her plate and its remaining contents clattering to the ground. “We are going to lose this—that's what's wrong! He has been planning this for years, Andon! And if he really thought we were that big of a threat to him, he would have killed us all by now. He knows we're not—he's not afraid of us, which means he knows exactly what we're capable of and he doesn't care!”
“So, let's leave, right now—let's take the girls and run, and hide.”
“I am not doing that,” Veria laughed coolly and shook her head.
“Why not—if you think it's a lost cause, why are we still here?” Andon snapped.
“Because even if it is a lost cause, it's one I have to fight for!” Veria cried. “I can't watch what will unfold across this world if he starts this war and know I did nothing to try to stop it. And because he has our son! He has him because I put him there!” She jabbed her fingers into her own chest and tears rolled down her cheeks as her voice filled the alcove.
Andon stepped in toward her and placed his hands on her face, causing her to flinch from the expectation of pain—but there was none, her bruises had healed—and from the strange sensation of being touched by his rough hands after a week of his withdrawal.
“I knew you would say that,” he murmured.
“Which part?” she muttered, salty tears finding their way onto her lips as she spoke.
“All of it,” he whispered. “It's why I have never suggested that we leave—because, Veria, I would. I swear, I would find a cave in the most remote corner of the world and hide you and the children in it—I would have done it a dozen times already, just to keep you from harm.”
His eyes filled with tears and he dropped his eyes to the floor.
“I have thought about it every day since you agreed to marry Browan. I planned where we would go, how we'd survive. I daydreamed of you and I and our children spending the rest of our lives together, just us. And I did this, all the while knowing how selfish it was, knowing that everyone else needs you—the world needs you and I don't care because I need you more.”
“Andon...” Veria sighed, caressing his neck with her hands and wrapping her fingers around to its nape, letting them wind into his dark waves.
“I was awful to you because I was hurt and angry, and that was unacceptable,” Andon said, shaking his head. “But, you must believe me, I understood why you did what you did. I have the entire time, and I know I would have done the same thing if I had been in your position. I have been well aware of my selfishness and willingness to do whatever it takes to not lose you for a very long time. You were protecting me because you don't want to lose me, and I would have done the same.”
Veria's lip quivered and a fresh stream of tears flowed from her eyes. “Then why? Why have you been so distant, Andon?” she whispered. “I...I thought you were still angry with me—I thought you would never forgive me!”
“I know,” he sighed, “I should have—I've been handling this terribly, and if you never forgive me for my behavior this week, I'll understand. I just couldn’t be around you, couldn't look at you...the bruises.” He stroked her cheek where a prominent indigo welt had been until recent. “They were a reminder of how I failed you. How I failed to keep you safe from harm, safe from him. I...I would look at you and hate myself.”
“Andon,” Veria cried, clutching at his neck, “why didn't you say something?”
“I was ashamed,” he replied. “I am ashamed!”
“Andon, there's nothing you could have done,” Veria whispered. “If you had fought back more than you did, Browan would have punished our entire family—there was nothing we could do.”
“No, I should have been smarter—I should have had a better plan to cover up the truth about Ava—I should have known it was coming, and I could have prevented it,” Andon argued, shaking his head, his words spilling out in a frantic ramble. “I should have—I should have studied with Daloes as a Sand Mager and developed my abilities to see the future—I could have stopped all of this. I would have known if he would find out—”
“Andon! Stop, stop...shhh,” she shushed him and stroked his hair from his dampened face. “We have both made mistakes, Andon, but I don't blame you for anything bad that has happened. I certainly don't blame you for Browan's decisions and behavior. He is cruel and vengeful and that is not your fault.”
Andon wept openly, and Veria maneuvered him to the cot to sit, then sat next to him.
“Strelzar talked to me a few days ago,” Andon sighed after several deep breaths to attempt to subdue his sobs.
Veria swallowed hard against a nervous swell in her throat. “Andon...”
“He told me what he did, and he told me that I was being an incomparable idiot by not being the one to be there for you,” he explained. “Obviously he was right, but I didn't tell him that.” He chuckled softly, as did Veria, but then his face dropped abruptly, turning solemn and pained in an instant. “He also told me that I should be prepared to go through with my plans—the ones I've been thinking of all these months, apparently they are 'loud' to him—just with the children. Not with you.”
A choked sob broke from Veria's throat. “He is right, Andon. You should,” she muttered through trembling lips.
“Don't ask me to do that,” he begged, grabbing her face again. “Please...Veria, I can't—I don't want to live without you. I'd rather die...”
“The children need you,” Veria whispered. “They need someone to take care of them, and you are the best person for the job.”
“Veria...”
“There is a reason he thinks I have to end this, Andon,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “He's made that pretty clear with all of his little folk tale clues and references. But, he would only say that to you if he had reason...Andon, what did he say?”
“He didn't say it, Veria,” Andon shook his head, staring into her eyes with intense sorrow. “We found it. In the journal. Both of them saw it—Ellory and Daloes.”
“You, alone with Browan in the tower, while the battle rages on around the castle,” he muttered reluctantly. Veria shuddered and turned cold. “That was the last thing they saw. That was the end.”
“Does everybody know this?” she asked.
Andon shook his head. “Strelzar ripped the page out and burned it.”
Veria sighed and dropped her head to stare at her lap. She had always figured it would be her and Strelzar, the Twin Dragons—one final assassination. She heard his voice in her head clearly: 'Ooooh...a regicide! Such a fancy assassination—I like it.' Despite the burden that now weighed heavily on her shoulders, Veria laughed out loud.
“Veria...” Andon sighed.
She grabbed his face in her hands and gazed at him intently. “Listen to me,” she said sharply. “If I am the only person in the room with him, I am the one coming out alive, alright?”
He nodded, but his lip trembled and betrayed him.
“If I am the one who is supposed to end this, I am going to end it, do you hear me?” she declared, squeezing his face between her hands, shaking him slightly to accentuate her seriousness. “Elanza lis cabarus ali forgeo!”
His face perked up, twinkling eyes going wide and lips curling into a grin. “Elanza lis cabarus ali forgeo,” he echoed. “Oh, Veria...can you forgive me for my poor treatment of you? I promise I will spend every minute of every day we have left before this war finds us making it up to you, and after it, if we get the chance.”
“I forgive you,” she whispered, “but you can make it up to me anyway.”
“Oh, I planned on it...” Andon purred, pulling her face into his and gently joining their lips. They kissed tenderly and affectionately for several quiet moments, until his lips became more urgent and impassioned.
He wrapped his arms around her, completely enveloping her upper body, crushing her against him with his strength. Her entire body came alive in an instant, overwhelmed with the bliss of being back in his arms, aching for the culmination of intimacy that would bring them as close as they could possibly be in body and soul.
She broke her lips from his and ran her thumb across his bottom lip, causing him to shudder and moan. “I love you,” she whispered.
“Vina, ayez-imar tuma, ali-mi termertu ar departu,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers, his breath broken with emotion and desire. “I love you, to my end and after.”
He plunged his lips against hers as he swept her legs into his lap, then lowered her back on the cot underneath them. They went slowly, and he was gentle, cautious, and tender. She endured minor discomfort, it being the first time she had been with him in the two months since Ava's birth, but the brief and insignificant pain that did arise paled in comparison to the deep, consuming passion they exchanged, and the momentous pleasure that filled her as they shared their love.
When they had finished they napped in each other's arms for an hour, too reluctant and unable to let one another out of their embrace. Tanisca knocked on the door to the office alcove in mid-afternoon, a fussing, hungry Ava swaddled in her arms.
Their little family was as inseparable as they could be for the next week. Veria let Willis take the office alcove and she moved into the alcove with Andon and the girls. They played games and told stories, took all their meals together, and snuggled together for naps. When the girls slept at night, Andon would push his cot against Veria's and take her into his arms, kissing every inch of her he could reach with his lips as he held her until she fell asleep with tears on her cheeks.
Veria's heart ached through all of it—so full of love that she thought it might burst, but noticeably empty without their little boy, and all the while knowing there was a chance that it all might end...
-XIX-
The day had arrived. The day Veria had been dreading since they had figured out the King's infernal plan. Most were solemn as they readied to depart for the castle, where they would meet with thousands of troops, but some of them gave into their emotions and fear, sobbing as they gave what they surely believed were their final embraces to their friends and loved ones. Tanisca was part of the latter group, which seemed to Veria such a stark contrast to the Tanisca who raised her—the cool and collected woman who never cried, nor told anyone what she was thinking or feeling. She held each of her granddaughters for at least half an hour, restraining sobs so as not to frighten them, then wailed against Turqa's chest while Sarco rubbed her back for another half hour once they had left the smuggling tunnels before they were able to calm her.
Veria and Andon told Irea that she and Ava were going on a special trip with Grandpa Willis and Great-Grandfather Sarco, and they would meet with them in a few days.
“You have to go get Aleon first, right, Momma?” she asked, fiddling with the yarn hair of one of the dolls Andon had made for her, hardly seeming fazed. If there was one thing Irea was used to in her short life so far, it was being shuffled around from grandparent to grandparent.
“Yes, that's exactly right,” Veria whispered, kissing the top of her head. “We are going to go get Aleon.”
Willis hugged Andon, then Veria, and assured them he would keep the children safe until everything was over. Sarco took them both into his arms, but couldn't manage to utter any words before he turned and started scooping up the luggage while sniffling against his tears.
As they all walked, as there were not enough horses for all of them, now totaling over eighty, Andon grabbed Veria's hand and squeezed it. They exchanged affectionate smiles, strained slightly by the pain and fear they were both trying not to show. Veria looked down the line of them to see many other couples doing the same, clasping hands and putting on brave faces—a now calm Tanisca and Turqa, Aslay and Cadit, Strelzar and Pascha.
The walk was long, but they started before dawn, and arrived at their destination—the forest just outside the castle—just as the Separatist troops amassed at the South Gate and the Tal'lean troops filed in from the East. Surrounding the castle were hundreds of Londess soldiers, and the allied troops from Govaland and Esperan.
The Elemental Guard was nowhere in sight, and Veria knew why. They were inside, protecting the King...
Other Magers were waiting for them in the woods, just as Strelzar had said, and he and Pascha handed out black cloaks to all of them. Jeyna and her seamstress apprentice had made nearly two hundred identical cloaks for them, three a day each for the last month. Strelzar paid her a sum for the job that would make her and her children comfortably wealthy for their entire lives. He had given Willis a large bag of gold, too, telling him and a protesting Andon that it was for Irea's future elemental education.
Once everyone had their cloaks on and had heard the plan a final time, the Magers marched into the field between the opposing sides. The Earth Magers who were proficient in the skill were prepared to place natural state on any soldiers who panicked and tried to attack, but for the most part, they were met with silence and shock as they strolled in a long, single-file line of black cloaks, right into the middle of what promised to be a bloody battle.
They stopped once they were all out of the forest, turning to face the castle where Browan watched from the balcony, which had been repaired, but not with marble.
“The matching cloaks were a nice touch, right Birdie?” Strelzar muttered playfully next to her.
“Oh, yes,” she chuckled. “Very intimidating.”
“Here,” Strelzar said quickly, shoving something into her hand. It was warm and metallic. She looked down quickly and saw what it was—her bronze talisman. “I had to make a special trip to Longberme awhile back to get it.”
She slipped it on her wrist and was immediately flooded with a surge of his Fire and her Earth.
“Birdie,” he said gravely, turning to look at her with eyes full of intent, “do everything I say today, alright? No matter what happens.”
“Alright,” she whispered, remembering vividly when he had said those
words to her in the training chamber, but her thoughts were interrupted by Browan's voice booming and echoing out over the field.
“I see the Twin Dragons have multiplied!” he bellowed. “Thank you for gathering here today—it will be so much easier to dispose of all of you this way.”
“Tell the truth, Browan!” Strelzar shouted. “Tell it now before blood is shed and lives are lost!”
“How about the Twin Dragon give themselves up to me immediately and face the consequences of their acts of treason and murder, and the rest of the Magers will be spared,” Browan roared.
Without a moment's hesitation, and even though Browan was obviously lying, Veria and Strelzar flipped their hoods back and revealed their faces, staring him down without fear.
“Behold! The Twin Dragons! This war is their fault!” Browan shouted, pointing at Veria and Strelzar in the middle of the row of black. “Soldiers, hear me—the man who brings me their heads will be a hero to the Kingdom of Londess and its allies!”
“Well, he is completely insane,” Strelzar groaned facetiously, and Veria and Pascha giggled on either side of him. “Well, we tried not to kill anyone today, didn't we? Alas, here we go...”
“Attack!” Browan boomed, and as the swarm of soldiers surged toward the line of black cloaks, he disappeared into the castle.
“Elanza lis cabarus ali forgeo!” Strelzar cried as he charged toward the castle.
“Elanza lis cabarus ali forgeo!” they all echoed, filling the air with the thunder of their combined voices, rushing forward with him.
Wind Magers went invisible, Fire erupted and Water rushed, the Earth shook and quaked and trees flew and weapons snapped. Andon took soldier after soldier to the ground with his natural state, Pascha froze entire groups of them at a time until they blacked out and collapsed, Strelzar drove them mad with the imaginary pain of burning alive until they crumpled in the dirt, shrieking in terror.
Queen of the Earth: Book V in the Elementals Series Page 16
