The Heart of the Ancients

by Elizabeth Isaacs

  “Tell me about Michael,” I said.

  Weylin’s smile slid from his lips.

  “He, like Rena, was born to parents in the guard. The first day we found ourselves on the practice field, Elias ordered the new warriors to charge the Prince. Everyone hesitated except Michael. He flew at him full force. It was the only time the Prince has ever been bested. Well, other than when I defeated him after he met you.

  “You did not defeat Gavin.” I rested my hands on my saddle. “He only let you get in a few hits because he knew it would push me to try and help him.”

  “Hey.” Weylin held his hands up as if to surrender. “I wasn’t the one on the ground. That’s a win in my book.”

  “If I recall,” I said, rising to the bait. “I seem to remember taking you down a peg or two.” I’d been so angry seeing Gavin hurt that I created a barrier around Weylin, rendering him helpless.

  The playful spark in his eyes became serious. “Yes,” he admitted. “And we need to discuss that. You did well that day, and you have improved greatly, but I find your inconsistency in control troublesome.”

  I relaxed in the saddle, settling into the horse’s smooth rhythm. “Well, now I have a better understanding of things. I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it.”

  “You think?” Weylin pointed ahead. “If that’s so, contain that bird as you did me.”

  “What?” I shook my head. “That’s not how it works.”

  “And that’s my point.”

  I frowned.

  “Be forewarned,” he said, veering further into the woods. “Our practices won’t be nearly as predictable as before. We’re going to work on the art of defending during a surprise attack.”

  My heart dropped. “Please tell me we’re not trotting into an ambush.”

  He shook his head. “No, Princess. The intent of this day is to get acquainted—although I’m tempted to let you think so. It would entertain me to no end to watch you anticipate an attack.”

  My frown turned into a scowl.

  Weylin grinned; his eyes blanked. “The Prince has reminded me that you are inventive when backed into a corner. It would be unwise to test your abilities without him near.”

  I tried not to appear too pleased. We trotted on in silence.

  “Our destination is a little beyond that ridge.” He pointed to a place ahead.

  Large smooth stones riddled the path, making the road difficult. We topped the hill, and Weylin pulled his horse to a stop. A clearing held an open field, which had been divided into four sections. Wheat grew among the weeds in one quadrant, flax in another, corn in the third and fruited vines in the last. A lone cottage stood at their midpoint. Open spaces darkened the sagging thatched roof. Years of neglect had left the cottage in shambles.

  We descended the hill, and Weylin dismounted and helped me to the ground.

  “What is this place?”

  His stoic expression gave nothing away. “This, Princess, is the beginning of my story.”

  Chapter 6

  Weylin’s Home

  “This is my home. Or it was,” Weylin corrected with a wistful smile. We followed the path that divided the fields. Tall grass whispered in the wind as if to welcome him home.

  Weylin stopped in front of the dilapidated front porch. “I haven’t been here in years.”

  Four bare walls greeted us as he opened the door. Worn furniture and handmade trinkets were scattered throughout the humble space. Several boards had been nailed together to create a pallet that hung from the ceiling by hemp rope. A small cot, built of sticks and twine, stood close by. Nestled next to the crude fireplace were a simple table and three rough-hewn chairs.

  We walked past the threshold. Light shone through the holes in the roof, coloring the wooden floor to a dull gray.

  “I can’t believe it’s still here,” Weylin muttered. Sunshine angled in a far corner, enveloping a chipped ceramic pot. A few sprigs of bright grass sprouted from the crock. Weylin walked across the room. He brushed his fingers across the tall soft spikes. “My mother loved the taste of citrus, but the only trees are south of here. As a substitute, she grew lemongrass and placed the pot close to the fire in the winter, so it would survive.” His expression warmed. “That’s one of the few memories I have of her, cutting the stems at the roots and using the sweetest flesh of the stalk to put in salads. The rest she chopped into fine, thin strips to flavor soups and stews.”

  The silence lingered as I walked around the room, admiring the little trinkets here and there. “This place,” I said, smiling, “has a sense of family, of home.”

  He smiled back. “Yes, it does.”

  I faced him. “What happened?”

  “My mother and father lived here in peace for many years. Every great while they would travel to stay with friends who lived near the castle, but for the most part, they enjoyed solitude. And then I came along.”

  Weylin walked over and picked up a wooden button off the floor. “Mother always said that Father wanted to build a smaller room for me, but she wouldn’t hear of it, insisting they wait until I was older. She found peace in the strength of familial bonds. I always admired her for that.”

  His eyes met mine. Turquoise, which moments ago was warmed by wistful memories, suddenly hardened to stone. Bitter lines creased his forehead. “I was but a child when it happened.”

  He rubbed his thumb over the holes in the button’s center.

  “The Dokkalfar started growing in power, and war raged through the land. I begged my parents to take shelter behind the castle’s walls, but we were north of the mountain, which meant the Dokkalfar would’ve had to pass the castle to get to us.”

  Weylin walked to the farthest corner of the room. He put his hand on the back of an old loveseat, his fingers running across the moldy material. He scooted the loveseat over, revealing a small trapdoor.

  “My father wanted to make a place large enough to hide Mother as well. She refused, citing the fact that they had too much work to do to prepare for winter. And besides, she believed the Dokkalfar would never make it past the King’s warriors.”

  His cold eyes found mine. “She was wrong.”

  Weylin opened the trap door and motioned me forward. A small pit, no bigger than the size of a laundry basket, had been dug and reinforced with stone. “Mother sensed them coming before we heard them. She woke me up and put me in here, telling me everything would be better by morning. Closing the trapdoor and placing the loveseat on top, she sat guarding me when the Dokkalfar arrived.”

  “At first, I fought, trying to push the trapdoor open.” He closed his eyes, pain riddled his expression. “The sounds ... that awful hissing sound they make. I believe my father managed to kill one, maybe two before they took his life. But my mother sat over me, making sure I stayed hidden. Their leader was amazed that she hadn’t already died. It is unusual ... the strength it takes to watch the Dokkalfar rejoice in the death of your mate. They feed off suffering and delight in pain. And yet she did not weaken. She didn’t fight. She didn’t scream or try to run. She just sat there, blocking my only way out. The leader mistook her bizarre behavior as some unseen gift. A sliver of light seeped through the slats. I could see him coming toward her. He raised his hand. Her agony was what caused me to lose consciousness. When I came to, she was gone.” Weylin ran his fingers through his hair. “God only knows how they tortured her before she died, but I remained hidden, and so I knew she fought them until she drew her last breath. They never knew I existed.”

  Weylin’s hand shook as he pointed down, to a small hole on the other side of the house’s foundation. “I waited until the threat of starvation became real, and then I clawed my way out and spent the next few months hiding in the woods. I somehow managed to make it through several snowstorms, although I don’t remember much of it. The next memory I have is waking up in the castle. I was told that a squadron on a scouting mission found me. Queen Lera ordered that I be given a bunk with the unmated warriors.”

  H
e closed the trapdoor, scooting the loveseat over it. Tears welled as I noticed the care he took in making sure it was placed precisely back in its original spot.

  “She and my father should have let me fight.” He brushed his fingers along the upholstery. “I should have stood with them and defended our home.”

  I stepped toward him, wanting to comfort him in some way. “But you were only a child.”

  Weylin ignored me as he looked at the fireplace. Without another word he walked away. The door quietly clicked behind him. I stood, picturing a dark headed boy with bright turquoise eyes. Such innocence lost in so horrific a way. And then to carry the burden of regret. His mother was right to protect him.

  Sunshine streamed through the broken roof, falling on green foliage. I went over and grazed my fingers across the tips of the lemongrass. It seemed wrong to leave this here. Dark soil caught under my fingernails as I pulled the blades from their root-bound home. Wrapping the plant in a bit of damp cloth I’d found on the cabin floor, I made my way outside, closing the door behind me. Weylin had walked to the far end of the pasture, his eyes downcast, deep in thought. I put the wilted grass into the saddle’s satchel and grabbed my horse’s reins. Hooves dug into the soft soil as I walked my steed across the meadow. Weylin waited until I was close before stepping in front of me, leading us to the ridge. Without a word, he lifted me onto the saddle and then mounted his steed. We rode in silence until the castle loomed on the horizon.

  I slowed down. “Weylin, wait.”

  He leaned back, stopping his horse a few feet from mine.

  “Why?” My voice caught, and I took a deep breath. “I know that wasn’t easy. Did Gavin ask you to bring me here?”

  Weylin shook his head. “No, Princess. I’ve shared my past because you doubt.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Weylin’s sad eyes sparked with wry humor. “You asked Rena how I could defend you better than her when I couldn’t even make it into the mountain. I thought it best to show you rather than try and explain.”

  Embarrassed, I looked away. “I was mad at both of you when I said that. I spoke in anger.”

  “No, you spoke in honesty. And I’ve responded the same. No child has ever suffered as I did and survived.” He looked over the field and watched the sun sink closer to the horizon. “The other warriors believe that I can defend because I’m gifted with courage. But the truth is I can defend because the night my parents died I lost the ability to love.”

  “I don’t believe that.” I urged my horse next to his.

  “It’s true, Princess. Something that night altered me in a way I can’t explain. I feel very little, and so I’m not easily angered, nor do I grieve.”

  “But that’s not the same as being unable to love.”

  “I cannot find a mate.” He scowled as if he hated admitting the obvious. “I feel no affection for anyone. Not even for you, which is a first in Kailmeyra. The whole blasted kingdom is smitten with you, and yet I feel empty.”

  I started to protest, but he held up his hand.

  “I’m not willing to debate the matter, nor am I complaining. I’m merely informing you that my deficiency in this area makes me the perfect warrior. The only semblance of affection I’ve ever felt is to this land. It is my intent to defend you so that Kailmeyra survives.”

  He pulled the reins, the bit digging into the side of the horse’s mouth. The stallion snorted before rearing in protest. We cut across the field at a fast canter, and I struggled to keep up.

  As soon as we came to the front gates, Weylin stopped. He glanced at me; his eyes glinted in the evening light. “Rena has requested, well, more like demanded, some time with you before dinner. I’ll leave you in her care.”

  “Weylin?”

  His shook his head. “I wish not to discuss this further.” He turned, going back through the gates.

  Rena came from the statues, followed closely by a stable hand.

  “Where’s he going?” I asked, watching Weylin’s horse stretch out to a full gallop.

  “Whatever you’ve done today has weakened him. He is going to find solace from the land, so he may strengthen.”

  I dismounted from the horse and opened the satchel. “I need your help with something.”

  Rena tilted her head as I took out the lemongrass. The plant was fighting for survival in its old home, and the ride didn’t do it much good. The tall blades slumped around my hand.

  “Can you make sure this plant survives? It’s important.”

  Rena’s expression grew serious. “Would you like for it to remain small or flourish?”

  I grinned. Rena accepted everything I did without question. If I asked her to, the entire kingdom would smell like citrus by the week’s end.

  “It needs to survive.”

  “Not a problem.” Her bright tone bounced off the statues. “I’ll put it in the butterfly garden, and it’ll be good as new. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  The footman took my horse’s reins, and I walked under the scaffolding around the damaged statue.

  Weylin’s words came back. “The other warriors believe that I can defend because I am gifted with courage. But the truth is I can defend because the night my parents died was the night I lost the ability to love.”

  How could he believe that? An Alfar would never survive without the ability to love. It would be like humans not being able to breathe.

  Rena came from the garden. “The grass has been planted by the base of the mountain, below the butterflies’ entrance.” She linked her arm with mine. “I’ve notified their King of the grass’ importance, my lady.”

  “Thanks, Reen.”

  THAT NIGHT, DINNER was a smaller affair. The Queen requested that Gavin and I meet in her chambers.

  “I know it might be selfish,” Lera admitted. “But our days are filled with preparations of war and plans for your departure. I’d like some time with my son and his mate before they go off on another adventure.”

  I smiled and hugged her. Lera entertained with stories of Gavin’s childhood, tactfully excluding Mia. By the time we left, she seemed more relaxed than she’d been in a while.

  We made our way back to our suite and headed for the bedroom.

  “We should make that a weekly event,” I said, stripping down to nothing before shucking on one of his shirts.

  “I think that’s a great idea.” Gavin sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes. “Although I’ve come to rely on dinnertime to touch base with Micah, Jacob, and Weylin, I need to spend time with Mother as well.”

  The mention of Weylin’s name brought back a flood of memories, and I brushed my hair as I replayed the day. The sounds of the shower floated from the bathroom, and I sighed, picking up the clothes off the floor and putting our shoes away.

  Gavin came from the room in nothing but a towel. He tossed it on the dirty clothes pile before pulling back the covers. Stretching across the bed, he motioned for me to join him. His fingers fanned across my ribs as I scooted closer. I rested my head on his chest; his heart thumped beneath my ear.

  “I love that I can see your thoughts,” he finally murmured. “It saves time, and we always understand one another. Now, talk to me.”

  “Obviously you knew where we were going.”

  Gavin kissed my forehead. “Yes, the guard assured there was no danger, but Elaine asked the Kestrels to keep an eye out just in case.”

  “Did you know the story of Weylin’s childhood?”

  Gavin’s fingertips ran up and down my spine. “He told Michael and me years ago, but no one has been to his parents’ home. I doubt he’d gone back there until today.”

  I sighed. “Weylin’s wrong, you know. He can love. He wouldn’t have lived if that part of him had died.”

  “I believe that, too. Although I think he’s built an emotional wall around his heart. It would be the only way for a child to survive.”

  I shifted and crawled halfway onto his chest. “There’s someone ou
t there for him, I know it. Someone who can make his wall crumble to dust. Someone who can love him with all her heart.”

  Levering himself to a sitting position, Gavin lifted me, settling my thighs on either side of his hips. “You may be right.” He stroked a fingertip along the notches of my spine as he lifted the shirt, pulling it over my head and tossing it on top of the towel. His hands made their way to the small of my back. He shifted forward, sinking into me, pulling me closer until every inch of his body was connected with mine.

  Desire rolled through, and I smiled, resting my forehead against his. “Everyone should experience this at least once in their lifetime.”

  Gavin’s lips touched mine, his kiss slow and tender. I let out a small moan.

  “I don’t know,” he murmured, his soft lips creating a trail of fire down my neck. “Once would never be enough. Every night is not enough. A lifetime of this wouldn’t be enough.” His arms wrapped around me, one hand getting lost in my hair while the other palmed my hip. “You’re my only experience with greed, Nora. I’ll never stop wanting you.” His eyes stayed locked on me as he rocked back and then forth. “I’ll never stop needing you. And I’ll never have enough of you.”

  He murmured words of love and devotion, but I only comprehended half of what he said as emotion, touch, and pleasure churned, creating a whirlwind of light, energy, and love. I locked my limbs around his back, wishing we could stay like this forever.

  Chapter 7

  Mia’s Memory

  “Very good!” Gavin’s voice rang across the field, finally calling a halt to the exercise. Long shadows stretched as the sun sunk in the late afternoon sky. Weylin and I stood back-to-back, still waiting to be ambushed. Over the past week, we’d been randomly attacked until I discovered how to control panic and turn it into something useful. The mornings brought a different type of education as I learned to conserve energy, using it only when Weylin couldn’t defend. This gave us the ability to fight for hours and still not weaken. I no longer wore armor. Weylin claimed that it was a sign of doubting his ability to protect me. The more we practiced, the more confident Weylin became. I reminded him that arrogance was off-putting to others. He grinned and said he would try to keep it under control.