She would never use her power again.
Lore stepped forward and took her hand, and held her right arm just above the stump. He did not shy away from her injury, he did not ignore it. He simply looked into her eyes and rubbed his thumb along the inside of her wrist, his way of saying everything was all right.
That was enough for her.
“Rowen, I bind myself to you: in honor, and respect, and love. I will share your pain and burdens. I will share your laughter and joy. All that is mine is yours. My life is yours, from now until death. Will you have my bonding?”
Joy swelled up inside her, chasing away all the darkness that had haunted her for years. Here she stood in front of the man she loved, her friend, and the one she longed for. “Yes.”
She squeezed his hand. “And Lore, I bind myself to you: in honor, respect, and love. I will share your pain and burdens. I will share your laughter and joy. All that is mine is yours. My life is yours, from now until death. Will you have my bonding?”
His essence flared, that familiar blaze. She inhaled it, letting it wash over her.
“Yes.” He bent down and touched her lips with his.
Laughter and clapping broke out around them, but she barely heard it. Instead, she felt Lore’s essence consume her, warming her as he deepened the kiss.
A moment later, he drew back and brushed her hair from her face.
Food had been prepared. Crabs had been caught and were now baking in the fires, along with seagull eggs and small fish on sticks. The people had also brought whatever they could find in the city, all piled along the sand. There would be a feast tonight, a celebration of life.
Lore led her to a log that had been set up near the fire. People brought them food and wished them happiness. Rowen just smiled and nodded. She could hardly eat, her belly already full of love.
He held her hand, and she couldn’t get enough of his touch, his scent, his smile. It was all a dream, but even better than anything that had filled her mind during the deepest parts of the night. No dark path marked her life anymore. Just a simple life with Lore.
There was no music, just the chatter and laughter of people along the beach and the sound of the surf. Rowen sat back, closed her eyes, and listened.
“What are you thinking about?” Lore whispered.
She smiled. “Life.”
His fingers cupped her chin and he pressed his lips down on hers. Without opening her eyes, she returned his kiss.
“I think it’s about time we left.”
Rowen drew back and frowned. “Where?”
Instead of answering her, Lore stood and scooped her up.
She grabbed the front of his tunic and gasped. “Where are we going?”
He grinned and walked past the bonfire, heading toward the dark coast. “Somewhere special.”
People laughed and waved as they passed. The sun had set and more stars appeared, along with the moon. The waves looked like silver lines as they rushed across the sand.
The last bit of firelight faded from view and so did the noise. Now it was just her and Lore.
Rowen relaxed his arms and sighed. She placed her hand over his heart and smiled.
She was home.
Chapter
52
Nierne arrived shortly before dusk with the rest of the women and children from the mines. Bonfires had already been lit along the beach, five in all. There was a festive feel in the air, but all she could do was look beyond the fires to where Thyra stood in the distance.
It looked different now. Faded and worn. The walls were still there, and the gates. Fields of grass grew around the city and ships rolled with the waves between the piers. The air still smelled of salt and fish and the familiar sound of the ocean filled her ears. But she had been gone a long time, and Thyra was not the home it once was. It had changed, and so had she.
“Nierne!”
She turned.
Simon walked up to her, a smile on his face. A bruise had formed along the bottom of his right eye and his dark hair waved in the breeze. She still hurt from their last conversation and wasn’t sure what to expect now.
“We did it!”
Apart from the beard, Simon appeared just like the young man she had served with back in the Monastery. He had even found a new robe and it fell loosely across his lean physique.
He stopped a foot away. She had a feeling that if he could, he would give her a hug. Instead, he just grinned at her. “It’s done! The Shadonae are no more.”
“I know.” She gave him a small smile.
His smile faltered and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Look. I’ve had time to think, and I want to say I’m sorry for what I said a couple days ago. Some prejudices are hard to break.” His gaze darted past her shoulder, then back to her face.
She glanced back. Caleb was heading their direction. Her stomach did a little flip. He was a couple hundred feet away when Cargan stopped him.
“I want you to come back to the Monastery. You were always a gifted scribe with an eye for detail and a love for history. We could use someone like you as we rebuild.”
She took a deep breath and turned back. “Thank you, Simon. But I’ve changed. I don’t know if I would fit in with the Monastery and all its rules.”
“I’m considering some changes.”
“That would be good.”
“Would you at least think about it?” He looked at her wistfully.
“Yes. I will consider it.” She could do that at least.
“Well, I should be going. The ceremony will be starting soon and I think Caleb would like to speak to you.”
Nierne tilted her head. Something was different with Simon. Perhaps he had changed too.
Simon turned and walked toward the first fire. People were already gathering around the bonfire. The sky above grew dark and the few clouds left from the storm turned purple and red.
A hand touched her arm. “Nierne.”
She turned around and her breath left her lungs.
Caleb stood before her, dressed in a simple black tunic and pants. He looked almost exactly like he did over a year ago, when they first met in his tent by the White City. Same dark hair, same chiseled face, same dark eyes. She had been afraid of him then, but something different burned inside her now. “Caleb, you’re here.”
He raised one eyebrow. “I told you I would come back.”
A smile crept across her lips. One thing hadn’t changed: he was still arrogant. “Yes, you did.”
Nierne wandered past the bonfires. It was late now, and still the people celebrated, adding more driftwood to the fires and dancing in the light. Her head hurt and she just wanted to find a nice, quiet place to rest, preferably alone.
Caleb stood next to Senator Regessus at the second bonfire. They looked to be in a deep conversation. Simon sat on a log that had been pulled up to the fire, watching the people dance nearby. Did he want to join in? There was no dancing allowed at the Monastery, but perhaps that would be one of the changes he made. He could, if he wanted to.
She left the firelight and climbed the sandy hill to where the dune grass grew, and followed a small path back to Thyra. The moon hung high above her, casting pale light across the trail. The sounds of festivity faded as she drew away from the beach.
There was no wind tonight and the air, although not warm, was not cold either. Peaceful, really.
It took fifteen minutes to reach the city walls. She followed the walls to the southern gate, which was open. Everything was silent now, save for the occasional chirp from some invisible insect.
Slowly she relaxed. She walked into the city, not sure where she was going, only that it felt good to be away from all the excitement. She actually missed those nights during her trip, where it was just Lore, Caleb, and her under the night sky.
She had never known Thyra to b
e so quiet. Even at night, Thyra had been an active, vibrant city. Now it was different. No music from the inns, no crowds, no streetlamps lit or candles in the windows.
Just quiet, as if the city had been put to rest.
Nierne stopped beside an old bookshop. The window was broken and the door hung open. Moonlight twinkled across the broken glass scattered across the cobblestone.
Restful and empty.
She made her way along the streets, soaking in the stillness until she reached the end of a street and realized where she had been heading all along: The Monastery.
It stood a block away, an old structure, one of the oldest in Thyra. It had been there for centuries, a place where scribes recorded history and preserved the ancient writings, and where the fathers passed on the art of script and the knowledge of the Word.
Nierne approached her old home, her feet whispering across the cobblestones. The moon was now overhead, and lit up the street almost as much as a streetlamp.
She reached the corner of the wall and touched the old brick. The bricks were jagged and coarse beneath her fingertips. An iron gate stood a couple feet away, the one that led into the prayer garden.
She entered the garden and stood on the gravel path. Weeds had sprung up all over, hardly recognizable as the once-kept garden with perfect rows and well trimmed flowers Father Karl had always taken pride in.
She sighed and her gaze swept toward the Monastery itself. A part of the wall had broken and fallen, crushing a small patch of weeds beneath it.
The Monastery reminded her of her own life—broken, shattered, full of dust and in disrepair. It would be rebuilt, but it would never be the same again. And neither would she. She had seen too much, experienced too much to ever go back to being the simple scribe she had once been, the naïve girl who had lived inside these walls.
Simon had plans to fix the Monastery and restore the order. A year, maybe two, and the Monastery would probably once again take its place in Thyrian society.
But where was her place? Did she really belong here anymore? Should she take Simon up on his offer and take her vows? A year ago it was her dream. But now . . .
A shadow moved to her right.
Nierne spun around, hands out.
Caleb leaned against the outer wall, his arms crossed. The moon cast half his body in shadow, but she knew it was him. “You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself.”
“Crackers, Caleb, don’t sneak up on me like that.”
He shrugged and stepped away from the wall. “I saw you leave the celebration, so I followed. It’s not safe to wander around in the dark.”
She turned back toward the Monastery. “It’s safe enough now.”
Caleb snorted behind her.
She touched the wall again, her fingers lingering on the side of the building. She could feel his eyes on her. Seconds ticked by. Another insect chirruped nearby.
“I wanted to let you know that I will be leaving in a couple days.”
“What?” She twisted around. “Where? Why?”
Caleb now stood in the middle of the garden. The moonlight shone across his dark hair and face, his eyes black orbs. “My job here is done. The shadows are gone, at least in the city. It is time for me to figure out a new path for my life.” He glanced at the Monastery. “My heart longs again for the desert, for my people. Many of them have never heard of the Word. I want to share Him with them.”
Nierne sucked in her breath. “You’re going back to Temanin?”
He shook his head. “Sadly, no. Just to the border. Balthazar has offered me a place among his people. I don’t want to be a nomad forever, but I could learn some things from them. As an assassin, I was trained in poison and remedies. Maybe my herbal knowledge can be used for healing.”
Caleb . . . a healer? In a strange way, she could see that. It was nice to see he had a plan for his life. So why did she feel empty at the thought of him leaving?
“Is this what you really want?” He nodded toward the Monastery.
She dropped her head and looked at the ground. She could barely see her boots in the darkness. “I don’t know.”
He closed the distance between them. He placed his thumb and finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up until she was staring into his eyes. “I told you I was going to ask you a question after all this was over.”
Her mouth went dry. She wanted to move, but her legs refused to budge.
His eyes roved back and forth. “Nierne, you know me well enough to know I won’t banter around with words. I won’t waste your time. If you are set on becoming a scribe, then I wish you happiness in that role. You would make a great scribe. But if you want a different life, then let me ask you one question. Will you go with me?”
Nierne stared at Caleb, her mind slowly catching up to what he had just said. “Are you—are you asking me—”
“Bond with me. Become my wife.”
Her heart thumped inside her chest, and her breath came out in short gasps. Bond with Caleb? Live out the rest of her life with him? Travel with him across the Lands?
Or take her vows and become a scribe.
It is good not to be alone. You can serve the Word in many ways.
Faded though the words were, she still heard Father Reth’s voice in her mind. Did he know that she would never become a scribe? Had he seen her future somehow, or just guessed it?
Caleb moved his thumb and played with the corner of her mouth. Yes. She wanted more than the life of a scribe. She wanted to see the world, not just write about it. She wanted to know the Word, not just record His words. And she wanted to be with Caleb.
One word. All she had to do was say one word. She looked into his eyes, taking in his entire being. They were connected, bonded at a deeper level than she had ever experienced with another human. He would change her and she would change him. And together they would be more.
“Yes.” She let out the breath she had been holding. “Yes. I want to go with you.”
A smile spread across his lips. His gaze moved across her face. Then he took a step back and pulled out a dagger from the sheath at his side. He lifted his other hand and with a quick slash created a small cut across his thumb.
Her nose wrinkled. “What are you doing?”
Caleb held his thumb up between them. A drop of blood formed along the cut. “In Temanin, when a man and woman choose to join together in a lifelong bond, the man spreads a drop of his blood across the woman’s forehead. It symbolizes she is now part of him, part of his blood.” He looked at her. “Are you ready?”
Her eyes went wide. “Wait, we’re bonding now?”
“Not quite, but yes. It is a promise until witnessed. I’m sure we can find someone to witness us back on the beach.”
Crackers, when Caleb wanted things to move, they moved fast!
The grin disappeared, replaced with a more serious face. “Having second thoughts?”
“No.” Nierne took a deep breath. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to be with him. “I’m ready.”
The smile returned. He reached over and pressed his thumb to her forehead, then spread the spot of blood. His eyes trailed back to hers. “You are part of me now.”
Before she could react, he pulled her in, flush against him, and kissed her. That same unseen force wrapped them together. She held onto his shirt with one hand and wrapped the other around his neck. This was where she was supposed to be.
A moment later Caleb backed away, but Nierne held onto the front of his tunic. He breathed hard as he reached up and brushed one of her curls away. “No regrets?”
She shook her head. No, this was the path for her. He would change her. But she was ready. “No regrets.”
Then he kissed her again. Long and hard.
Epilogue
Rowen drifted awake, the cobwebs of fatigue still clinging to her mind. S
he blinked a couple times and lay there on the straw bed, her eyes open. Her son slept on the other side of the bed, the side Lore usually slept on, just a couple inches from her face.
She watched Trygg sleep, a rare moment when he wasn’t moving or running around. His hair hung over his forehead, the same way Lore’s did. Same color too, the color of the sandy coasts of Avonai. And if his eyes were open, they would be whatever color the sea was today.
She brushed his hair back, then sat up and tossed the quilt aside. It was getting harder to move with this new one taking up so much space inside her. She ran a hand across her belly. Not long and Trygg would have a playmate.
She looked around their small cabin. It wasn’t much, but it was home. A rough wooden table sat in the middle of the room with a bench on either side. The fireplace stood against the far wall, cold and dark. With summer fast approaching, there was no need for a fire.
Plates and cups were stacked inside the cupboard on the far side of the room and a small straw bed sat in the corner for Trygg. Soon, though, they would need more space with the new baby. Perhaps by then the White City would be finished and they could move back.
A breeze drifted in through the open door.
Lore stood in the doorway, his back to the cabin.
Quietly, so as not to disturb Trygg, Rowen inched across the bed to the edge and came to her feet. She straightened her dress and padded across the earthen floor.
Lore sighed.
She reached the doorway and placed a hand on his arm. He looked over at her and a smile spread across his lips. “Sleep well?” He pushed a stray hair back behind her ear.
“I feel lazy.”
He laughed, the creases along the corners of his eyes deepening. “You needed the rest. I saw Trygg this morning, running along the wall. And you chasing after him.”
“Yes.” Rowen looked out the doorway, across the fields now scattered with a brilliant array of wild flowers, to the walls of the White City. The walls had been the first thing to be rebuilt after the war and now stood tall and proud again. “He said he was gathering flowers for me. Not sure why he needed a wooden sword for that. Or needed to run back and forth along the wall. I think he was pretending to be you.”
Heir of Hope (Follower of the Word Book 3) Page 42
