Preludes to War (Eve of Redemption Book 6)

by Joe Jackson

  “Thank you for coming,” Kari managed without snickering. “Tell Her Majesty I look forward to seeing her again as well.”

  The half-elf departed in a lot less of a good mood than she usually did. Kris’ comment had a clear effect on that, and Kari wondered at the wisdom of provoking King Koursturaux, even indirectly. She didn’t understand Kris’ relationship with the demon king, but then she didn’t really know much about Kris’ relationships in general. She just hoped he would stay on Askies Island for a while, and perhaps she and Erik could propose joining the Silver Blades to the Warlord. Having another member, particularly one who had the equivalent of Aeligos’ tactics and Kari’s sword-fighting prowess – not to mention a bona fide royal title and military rank – would be quite a boon.

  “I still do not trust that woman,” Kyrie said quietly once Amastri was safely away.

  “With good reason,” Kris agreed.

  “Mama, is Seanada coming back?” Little Gray interrupted.

  “Not for a while, sweetie, but she’ll be back,” Kari told him confidently. If there was one person she knew could take care of themselves in almost any situation, it was the half-syrinthian assassin. She shifted Uldriana over to her other arm, and gestured back inside with her head. “So, are you seriously considering getting involved in a civil war on Mehr’Durillia?”

  Kris waved a hand dismissively. “Probably not, but I enjoy messing with people like Amastri. Let the damned demon kings worry about what we’re going to do for a change. I can’t see going there and getting into a war to help the mallasti, but then I guess a lot’s changed since the end of the Apocalypse. I’ll talk to my father about it when I get home, see what he thinks. You know if I go to Mehr’Durillia, that could cause a war in itself. Got to make sure I have the pantheon’s okay before I go aggravate the demon kings on their home world.”

  “You know we’d be better off starting a war there than waiting for one to come here.”

  “That depends if we simply get our vanguard killed there, and leave Citaria defenseless,” Corbanis countered.

  “Exactly,” Kris agreed with a nod. “If we’re going to start a war there, we have to make sure we’re going to finish it there. And that means we have to find out two things: which demon kings we might be able to sway to help us, at least superficially, and which ones we can turn on their fellows so they do most of the work for us. Again, I’ll talk to my father about it when I see him. And maybe we can get Celigus’ input on it, if he’s not being his usual grouchy self.”

  “What do you think?” Kari asked Corbanis.

  He bowed his head to her gratefully. He was under her command, so being asked for his advice made him feel like an important part of the Order again. After so many years stationed in Latalex on a useless assignment, it had to feel good to be on active duty, as it were. “The Warlord is right. If this is something we want to seriously consider, we must put all of our ducks in a row, as they say. The Order won’t be strong enough to sustain the campaign itself; we can be the vanguard, but armies will need to be raised from all corners of the globe. And then–”

  “That won’t work,” Kari interrupted. “Anyone traveling to Mehr’Durillia gets funneled right into Anthraxis, remember? Unless we’re planning to conquer the city and the Overking first, it’ll have to be something much more subtle. A slow trickle to start, and if we can get some aid from one or more of the disgruntled demon kings like Kris said, then maybe we can create a diversion big enough to drop an army in the Overking’s lap.”

  Her father-in-law bobbed his head. “Right. So as you see, it’s very complicated. But it won’t hurt to get the wheels turning now. Worse comes to worst, people like Amastri hear of it, and the demon kings have to spend too much time preparing to defend themselves to bother us.”

  “Just don’t let all this talk get further than us for now,” Kris suggested. “We’ll have a better idea of what’s going on when Kari gets home from Mehr’Durillia, and maybe whatever Seanada can tell us when she comes back will expose a weakness.”

  Kari sighed lightly. “I’m going to sit with Grakin for a while. Mom, would you please take the children and get them ready for supper?”

  “Of course,” Kyrie agreed, taking Uldriana. Little Gray and Corbanis followed her into the house, leaving Kari and the Warlord alone.

  “Mind if I join you?” Kris asked.

  Kari looked at him, a mix of emotions playing through her heart and mind at his request. She considered her departed husband’s final letter to her and smiled. “I think Grakin would like that,” she answered.

  They sat quietly under the tree for a time. Kris didn’t say much, looking around at the scenery and keeping his thoughts private. He was there to lend Kari a physical presence, and she was glad for it. She thought of the years they’d fought side by side, but it wasn’t the fighting that ever dominated her memories. It was the songs, the camaraderie, the way he commanded his brigade and yet never put himself above them. She remembered the times Kris and her friend and subordinate, Captain Lawrence Machall, had played guitar and led much of the brigade in song, echoing through the trees and mountain valleys.

  “Remember that song you used to sing about the dawn, and praising the gods into eternity?” she asked. She was a bit off-target; Kris didn’t worship his father or any of the pantheon. He was Christian, same as Captain Machall, and yet even after eight years, Kari still knew little about their faith. But she had never been one to express her love and devotion to Zalkar or Sakkrass in song aside from the times she was among the czarikk, so now, looking back, she found their dedications to be nothing short of inspiring.

  “Of course,” he said.

  She didn’t need to explain any further. He stood and took her hand in his. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, and began to sing in that wonderful, even-toned voice that tugged at her heartstrings. A part of her felt a little guilty thinking that way when they were here to memorialize her husband, but she knew he’d understand. Somehow, listening to Kris sing, she found a harmonious blending of all her thoughts and feelings: remembering Grakin, spending this time with Kris, and praising the gods in all of it.

  She joined him for the last verse, the only part of it she could really remember, and the song let her release some of the emotions she had bottled up over the prior six months. When they finished, Kris hugged Kari tight, and she remembered what it was like to be in Grakin’s embrace. This was new, and different, but no less pleasant – and it was what her husband had encouraged her to pursue, if her heart was in it.

  Chapter II – Farewells

  Kari woke hours before dawn. The children were still fast asleep, so she put on a robe and made her way downstairs to make something to eat. She was surprised when she reached the base of the stairs to find Kris asleep in one of the chairs before the fireplace. A half-empty glass and a bottle of whiskey sat on the end table beside him, casting odd shadows from the remains of the fire. A flash from her past ran through Kari’s mind, and she remembered the many times she had drunk to try to get some sleep, no matter how meaningful.

  Kris looked exhausted, and Kari wondered how she hadn’t noticed it when he arrived. She didn’t even know how many years he’d been at war now; she was fairly certain he had been on Dannumore before the Apocalypse. Between the eight-year War and the four years since, that was already a dozen consecutive years of fighting, not counting however long he had been at it before the Apocalypse came. Had he been fighting nearly all of his life?

  He started awake, and sat forward in his seat with a sigh. He noticed Kari after a moment and smiled, but it didn’t hide the pain. Did he know anything else besides war? Did the prospect of a war on Mehr’Durillia interest him because he didn’t know how to sit still and try to enjoy life? Again, she had missed any signs of such the day before, even when sitting quietly beside him at Grakin’s tree.

  Kari basked in that moment briefly, remembering his comforting touch while they sat in silent vigil at her husband’s
grave. Any concerns she had that he would be too forward or try to wedge himself into her life too soon had been thoroughly dashed. Kris empathized with her, and though he didn’t know the entire Tesconis family that well aside from Kyrie and Erik, he acted like he, too, had lost a brother. It was that camaraderie that bound the members of Kaelariel’s priesthood together: Kris’ father saw his servants as brothers and sisters, and Kris obviously had the same viewpoint.

  He rose to his feet and approached her in front of the fireplace, his paluric armor shed for sleeping so he stood before her in nothing but undergarments, showing off his broad, muscular chest framed at the edges by the red stripes across his back and sides. “Trouble sleeping?” he asked.

  Kari shook her head. “I’m usually up with the dawn. Old habits and all that. Figured I’d see if I can have breakfast before the kids get up.”

  He ran his finger down her jaw, and then poked the end of her snout. It left Kari a little confused, all at once a friendly, playful gesture, yet suggestive of an invitation at the same time. She couldn’t deny that seeing him again had reawakened the feelings she had for him during the War, but her emotions were still raw. Grakin had died only months before, and she wasn’t ready to think about a relationship. She realized she might be overthinking things, and that nothing said she couldn’t take him to her bed for just one night if she wanted to, but Kari was sure she would regret that for the rest of her life. If she went down that road with him, she didn’t want it to be a one-night, meaningless affair.

  “Hungry?” she finally managed.

  “Not really, but something to cover up the whiskey burps sounds good,” he answered, and Kari laughed. “How long ago did you become Avatar of Vengeance?”

  She led him toward the kitchen. “Just before Grakin died,” she said, her humor drying up quickly at having to utter those words. It still stung to think she had walked away from him just days before he passed. No one held Kari at fault for it, but that didn’t assuage the way she felt. If she’d known he was so close to dying, Kari would have stayed beside him, even though it would’ve done nothing to stave off death. She wanted to be beside him when he closed his eyes for the last time, and now every time the memory came to the fore, she thought of what Trigonh and Carly must have felt when Kari died so long ago.

  Kari started placing things on the counter to make some breakfast, but Kris came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She folded her wings and hung them from her shoulders so he could press closer to her. There was still that confusion of feelings, leaving her unsure whether Kris was simply trying to comfort her, or seduce her at the same time. What was more confusing was that she didn’t know which she wanted to be true. Where was that harmonious blending of her feelings from yesterday?

  “You know he was a good man,” Kris whispered in her ear. “Spent his life healing other people, serving instead of taking. There’s reward in that; you know this.”

  Kari was pointedly reminded of her final words to her brys friend, Makauric, when he lay dying on Kaelariel’s altar on Tsalbrin years before. She had made that same promise to him: that there was reward in sacrificing his life for others. Grakin had shortened a life already cut far too short by a terminal disease so that he could continue to heal and comfort others. What years he had were multiplied in effect, because he had done so much for so many with so little thought for himself. Part of Kari wished he hadn’t, so that he might have had more time with her and their children, but she was still proud of him, and proud to have called him husband.

  Kris laid his head on her shoulder, and Kari sighed in relief. Held softly in his embrace, she felt none of the tension that had built up between them during the War, when he was more forward about his feelings. He’d matured these last few years, and perhaps the fact that Kari was now a widow tempered his desire, but whatever the case, she felt safe now in his arms instead of distressed. That nagging feeling that she might betray Grakin – even after what he’d said in his goodbye letter to her – was nearly silent.

  The thought of Grakin’s final letter made her wonder if she worried for nothing. Was she reading too much into their wedding vows? She had sworn herself to him forever, but the intent behind the bond was something she’d never paid much attention to. Was she free to pursue other loves now that Grakin had died? What would that mean when she finally passed on, possibly with multiple husbands? That thought threatened to give her a quick headache, so she pushed it aside. Grakin was the priest, the truly spiritual one, and he had said in no uncertain terms that he wanted her to find love again.

  That left only one issue: Kari wasn’t sure if Kris was ready to be a father to her children. Just how much had he matured over the last few years? He may have been close to fifty years old, but that was still young by serilian-rir standards – not to mention demigod standards, if his being Kaelariel’s son meant that much. Was he ready to settle down, at least enough so to stay by her side and help her raise children, whether they had more together or not?

  The thought of having children with Kris left a strange but familiar tingle in her gut, but brought a pang of worry to her. What would the family think if Kari began a relationship with Kris, either now or some time down the road? She hadn’t shared Grakin’s letter with anyone, so only Seanada knew of its existence. Would the family understand? Would they care? Might they even be supportive of the idea?

  Kris stepped around beside her and smiled sidelong. He started helping her prepare some dried cereal and crackers for the children when they woke, letting Kari concentrate on the eggs and meats. Before she got her hands dirty, Kari turned to him and let her robe drop to the crooks of her elbows. It was far from the first time Kris had seen her naked, but it still served to get his attention right quick. She wondered if he would notice the changes in her breasts or the slight traces of stretch marks on her belly.

  He turned and took a minute to stare at her up and down, taking in every inch of her nakedness, back to perfectly trim fighting form even after two pregnancies. He started to say something, but then stopped and titled his head to the side, considering her.

  “I don’t know if this still interests you,” she said, and his mouth twisted into a half-smile in such a way as to answer her question. “I still am, but it’s going to take time, Kris. And if you want to have a relationship with me, you have to know the children will be part of it.”

  “Of course.” He sighed and turned back to what he was doing. “You have to know, it may take time for me as well. I’m not the man you knew during the War, Kari. Not completely, anyway. I’ve found that all this fighting has been taking its toll, and yet I’m not sure if I can ever stop. The Apocalypse was brutal, but…compared to the fighting on Dannumore, it was pretty tame. It’s been a long few decades for me.”

  Kari shrugged her robe back up into place. “Hence the whiskey bottle…?” she asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

  Kris shrugged. “I find myself waiting for scouting reports and news when it gets too quiet. Like I’m waiting for some disaster to happen, some offensive that I have to scramble to defend against. I think it’s the same thing that’s wrong with the bah’qitur people in general: they’ve been fighting so long, they don’t remember what to do during times of peace. If you’re interested in a relationship, I want to make sure I’m at a place where I can be still, be with you and your children, and not be looking forward to a war because I can’t sit still.”

  Kari began breaking the eggs into a bowl to mix. “Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think we’re going to have much in the way of peace in the near future. Everything we spoke about last night – war is definitely coming. There’s no avoiding it at this point. I told you about the Temple and about Emma; the Overking is speeding up his plans, and like I said yesterday, it’s going to come down to whether we fight him here or on Mehr’Durillia.”

  Kris turned back to her. “Wherever it happens, you know I’ll be there…at your side.”

  Kari had to smile at
that. She got a fire going in the stove, and turned to Kris while she waited for the cast-iron pan to heat up a bit. “Just make sure you understand where I’m coming from, Kris. I’m almost forty years old, and I’m not going to live forever or damn close to it like a serilian-rir would. I’ve got children and other family to think about now, and the fact that my husband died is never going to be far from my mind. Not for some time, anyway.”

  He approached and stood before her, running his finger down her jawline again. “Kari, I completely understand. I figured I missed my chance with you, so if you feel ready to be with someone again, now or in the near future, then I can be patient. Like I said, I have to go home and take care of some things. You concentrate on getting home safely from Mehr’Durillia again, and when we’re both back in DarkWind, we’ll see where things go from there.” Kari smiled again. “And for what it’s worth, you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

  That comment caught her by surprise. She got it from so many people, but attributed it to the great shape she kept her body in, even after two pregnancies. She may not have looked forty years old, but her body reminded her it was true every so often. She felt no serious decline that might lead her to retire from active hunting – especially since becoming Avatar – but she knew it would happen faster and faster as she grew older. And then the thought of growing older made her wonder if Kris really wanted to get involved with her and go through the same thing she just did with Grakin: watching your spouse die.

  “You sure you’re interested in an old woman with a short lifespan?”

  Kris turned back to her as he walked toward the butcher block. “Remember what I said about my mother? For all I know, the same may hold true for you. I don’t know how much of my father’s power I have in me. We’ve never talked about it, and I’ve never really looked into it myself. And then…I have other suspicions.”