“These ropes aren’t going to coil themselves, young man.”
Kellinar chuckled. “I’m sure another could be found for the task.”
Po nodded, his attention focused on the next rope. “Mayhap, but I agreed to do it. With so many tents coming down the ropes were everywhere. I told everyone to pile them here, and I would organize them.”
“I will let you know as soon as I know.”
“May the Fates favor your day, Di’shan.”
“Yours as well, Master Po.”
Vaddoc stood on the wall that encompassed the south side of Markene’s castle and stared out over the massive encampment of Markeni, Kantherian, and Boromari soldiers. The few Ke’han that had survived the border battles camped at the edge of the armies, the Nagi and Nagas with them. Fires from the gathered armies lit the rolling grasslands on both sides of the river like stars descended from the night sky. Every now and then, a torch led a group of warriors through as the surviving Border Guards from both Calladar and Shadereen joined them.
The large group of Fire mages that returned with the riders also were hard at work. Every night they set fires in the camps, which required tremendous energy. Their weaves created fires that burned for a full day and night, fueled by nothing and leaving little smoke, however, it was necessary to prevent Markene from being stripped bare of fuel resources. Thankfully, the amount of fires needed had already lessened.
The Shaderian refugees now resided in Kanther. Vaddoc hoped his mother and sisters were settling into their new, temporary home. The New Sharrens had gone to Galdrilene. In the morning, Kirynn would accompany Taela to Boromar to make the same request on behalf of the Calladarans.
For now, all was quiet as both the remaining refugees and the city itself settled into slumber.
Sleep remained elusive for Vaddoc. The horror from the final battle for Shadereen had burned itself deep into his mind and heart. Standing there on the wall, he found nothing to distract himself from the memories. Nothing needed done at the moment. And so he wrestled with the emotions that filled him. His mother and sister were safe, but the nation he had grown up in, had fought for first as a Border Guard and later as a rider, was gone. Completely. Along with a large portion of its inhabitants.
The images of Welan burning while the people were slaughtered wouldn’t give him peace. And worst of all was the thread of doubt that tugged at him. Three nations had been wiped out in a single day. What hope did they really have of protecting the world from the Shadow Riders? If five hundred years before, Guardians with far more experience than any of them now possessed had been unable to stop the tide of shadows, how were they supposed to?
Even Namir remained silent on those questions and that, more than anything, planted a seed of fear for the future deep in his heart that he couldn’t dig out. If the dragons were beginning to doubt they would find victory against the Shadow Riders…
Vaddoc shook his head. He needed to stop thinking in that manner and just focus on one battle at a time. Yes, they had lost those. Perhaps next time, they could at least hold their ground. It was all the hope he could summon. The possibility of pushing the Shadow Riders back was too much to ask at this point.
Apiatan, one of the few Ke’han to survive the border conflict, walked toward him along the wall. Vaddoc watched him approach out of the corner of his eye. Though he still struggled to resolve how they looked with how they acted, he didn’t feel quite the same aversion to the Ke’han that he once had.
The Ke’han hadn’t wavered even for a moment in the defense of Shadereen. They may look like Kojen, but Namir had been right. They were no more Kojen than he himself was a Shadow Rider.
Apiatan stopped and leaned against the parapets next to him. Like Vaddoc, he stared at the assembled armies below. They stood next to each other in silence for a long time before the Ke’han glanced at him and asked, “How do you do it?”
Startled, Vaddoc turned his eyes on the Ke’han. “Do what?”
“Find peace.” Apiatan sighed and gazed out at the myriad of fires, his expression troubled. “The Ke’han have never witnessed such butchery. Not even when we came to the place called Trilene to help. My men have trouble finding sleep. They are not alone for I cannot find it myself.” He looked at Vaddoc again. “Given that elder Ke’han are not available to seek advice from at this time, I thought perhaps one such as you might know how one finds peace after such a thing.”
Vaddoc turned his gaze to Apiatan, seeing him truly for the first time. Though he fought with the skill of a well-trained warrior, now that they stood within arm’s length of each other, it was obvious the Ke’han was young for his position as headman over the others who had come west.
His horns weren’t as heavy as Hakan’s. Wide-shouldered and wide-chested with well-developed muscles, there was still a lankiness to Apiatan. “How many years have you seen?
The Ke’han looked back at the fires. “I have seen nineteen summers.”
Vaddoc sighed and followed the Ke’han’s gaze. Apiatan was six years his junior. The same age he’d been when he first graduated to the rank of Border Guard. Lenyi’s death at the hands of Kojen still haunted him. Trilene lingered on the edges of his mind, and Shadereen filled it with a kaleidoscope of sickening images. Vaddoc wished he had something to offer the Ke’han.
Reaching up, Vaddoc clasped one hand on Apiatan’s shoulder. “If I knew, I would gladly tell you, my friend.”
Vaddoc leaned against the parapets and gazed out at the army while he struggled to keep the seed of fear in his heart from sprouting into a noxious weed. Doubt had no place in this war. Vaddoc’s sleepless night moved slowly on and still he remained on the wall, standing quietly with Apiatan as they both tried to come to terms with everything that had happened.
Kalila shuffled through more reports of foreign and domestic soldier numbers in the light of several low burning candles while the half-moon made its way into the western sky outside her open windows.
Through the open door to the other sleeping rooms in the apartment, the quiet snores of one of the mages provided background noise. The temperatures of late summer had returned and occasionally a breeze would sweep into the room and rustle the papers on her desk.
She sighed in frustration when she lost her train of thought and had to reread the reports. Though Markene was her focus and enough to think about on its own, a small part of her mind and heart, the part that remembered it was still a youthful young woman who hadn’t quite reached her eighteenth year, wanted to wander off onto subjects that needed to be left alone. That part of her wanted to think of Loki and the budding love it had found with him.
To his credit, even though he was again in Markene, he had left her alone to concentrate on her nation. In the time he’d been gone, Kalila found she missed him. She had Lalani and Sehlas as advisors, however, they weren’t someone she could truly confide in.
What she wanted, or maybe even needed, was the young man who had been her friend. Who would likely become more than a friend if she gave it even a moment’s chance. He was the only one she’d felt comfortable crying in front of or sharing her fears with.
Since Loki left, Kalila kept everything buried deep inside, never letting it show. It wore heavy upon her. As queen, she needed to be a solid rock in the storm that was beginning to rage all around her nation. She needed to be a leader that didn’t hesitate or show doubt. Never could there be a moment of weakness before her personal guard, mage instructors, Heads of Houses, and most all, the people of the nation who depended on her.
The papers fluttered to the desk as she dropped them to rub her temples. Maybe it wasn’t healthy to keep it all inside. After what happened on the border, how much time did any of them really have left? Was it fair to deny herself any personal pleasures? Was it fair to her nation even to think of herself? If she died in the next month, would there be any regrets?
Kalila pondered that last question. With Markene, she could find no regrets. She had done and would continue
to do everything possible for her nation, keeping the best interests of her people in every action she took.
But with her personal life, all Kalila could see were regrets and missed chances. It wasn’t enough just to survive. One needed to live as well, to find happiness where it could be found in each day, to embrace it all or in the end, what was the point?
Making a decision, Kalila stood and wrapped her light cloak over her nightdress and walked to the door of her chambers. The Galdrilene Defenders in the hall gave her a startled look, clearly surprised to see her in the middle of the night. “Do you require something, my queen?” the ranking Defender asked.
“I must speak with Loki immediately. He has once again taken his rooms within the keep, has he not?”
The Defender nodded. “He has. Jocelynn and Varnen too have returned to their rooms, and many of the other riders reside in the keep as well.”
“Very good. It is Loki I need to speak with.”
“We will accompany you to his chambers.”
With her shoulders squared, Kalila started down the long hall with the Defenders on her heels. During the winter, the drafts in the halls were icy and uncomfortable. Now, in late summer, when it remained late summer, they brought refreshing coolness as they drifted by, making the torches in their sconces on the walls dance to its silent tune.
Striding toward Loki’s door, Kalila felt a moment of absolute freedom. For this moment, for this night, she wasn’t a queen. She was a young woman in love.
Loki opened the door before she could even knock. Kalila looked at him in surprise. “You’re awake.”
“Merru is on the roof. He overheard you and woke me.”
Closer inspection revealed creases in the side of his face from the pillow and tussled blond hair. Uncertainty took hold. “It isn’t that important. I can speak with you in the morning.”
She started to leave, but he caught her hand. “Kalila, if you need to speak with me, for whatever reason, now is fine.”
Nodding, she moved past him into the room. When he closed the door, she turned to look at him. His tall frame leaned back against the door with his arms folded over his chest. He’d grown again during his time in Shadereen. At least a couple of inches. His shoulders were broader, muscles more defined. A thin scar, much like those she carried on her own face, marred the side of his. Just in front of his ear, it ran from his temple down to his jaw.
Loki studied her with blue eyes that were harder and more serious than they had been the last time she saw him. Suddenly self-conscious of her scars, she tried to cover them with her hair.
“Don’t.”
Her hand froze. “What?”
“Don’t do that, not with me.”
She brushed her hair back over her shoulder.
“What is this about? Is everything all right?”
Kalila glanced away. “I…yes…and no.” She hesitated, unsure how to do this. “Markene is as good as it can be under the circumstances. Kalila the queen is also as good as she can be. However,” she paused again before saying softly, “Kalila the woman, not so much.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Why?”
The concern in his voice almost undid her. She swallowed, raised her chin, and looked him in the eye. “I don’t want to arrive at the end of my life regretting missed chances. As queen, it is my duty to place my nation first. Somewhere, I have to have a place for myself as well.”
“Where are you going with this?” He met her eyes with an unwavering gaze.
“Before you left, we admitted to having feelings for each other, and I said not now. If the border didn’t change how you feel about me, I’m saying ‘now’ is here.”
“The border changed a lot of things about me,” he said. “But it didn’t change that. Barring a bondmate showing up out of the blue, I don’t think anything ever will. If you are all right with that possibility, then now is good.”
“I won’t pretend that the thought of a woman one day becoming your bondmate doesn’t bother me. It is something I’ve thought quite a bit about and in the end, it doesn’t make sense to avoid what is between us now because of what may or may not happen sometime in the future.” Kalila waited with her heart pounding.
Loki nodded and remained silent so long she began to wonder what he was thinking. Had she said something wrong? Finally, he said, “May I kiss you?”
“You may.”
He crossed the room and took her face in his hands. Kalila swayed into him, losing herself in the kiss, in the moment. Time stood still as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight against his body. Tonight was theirs and they would go wherever it took them. All thoughts of food reports, soldier counts, and endless arguments with the Heads of Houses fled her mind.
Maleena glanced down at the village tucked into the flanks of the massive mountains around it. Smoke curled from the chimneys of the cooking fires at the Stone Wagon Inn, her destination. Near the edge of the clearing around the inn, among the trampled grass and wild flowers, stood a three-wagon merchant train. Though it had only been a few years since she last saw Lowden, it felt like lifetimes. High above it, Nydara flew over the village in a lazy circle.
As out of the way as Lowden was, the villagers had seen nothing of the battle raging around them, though the tales of Trilene and dragons would have been carried there with the merchants. Now, with the entire east side of the Traders travel route broken and Yari in the path of the next battle, it was unlikely they truly knew the fate of Calladar on the far side of the mountains.
“Are we going to land or spend the entire day circling this little village?”
Maleena sighed. Nydara skirted what she was really thinking with her question. “You mean am I going to procrastinate this forever?”
“Something along that line, yes.”
“I haven’t seen these people in years. I wasn’t exactly welcomed here—ever.”
Nydara snorted. “Are you a Dragon Rider? Are you one half of the most powerful Spirit pair ever seen? Are you the woman who brought a man to his knees in the middle of a ballroom? Are you the woman who put the Heads of Houses in Markene in their place?”
“What kind of questions are these? Of course I am.”
“Then stop fretting about this little village and act like it.”
The silver was right; she was acting like a fool up here. She took a slow, deep breath to center herself and focused on the woman she’d become instead of the girl who had left this place. “Your wisdom is once again appreciated, my friend. I’m ready when you are.”
With a rumble, Nydara made a sharp dive angled at the clearing around the inn. As they drew closer, she let out a tremendous roar to announce their arrival, as if everyone hadn’t already seen the massive dragon barreling toward them.
Those on the ground scrambled for cover amid the cries of alarm. Nydara’s mental chuckle echoed in Maleena’s head as the silver drew up sharp just in time to land gently. The wind from her wings sent the trees around the clearing swaying. Maleena shook her head. “That wasn’t nice.”
Smug amusement threaded through Nydara’s return, “What? I didn’t harm them. I do think I’ve set the mood for your return quite nicely though.”
“Thanks, I think,” Maleena sent as she loosened the safety straps and leaped to the ground. While she removed the catcher strap, Maleena let her magic flare out in order to better gauge the reactions of the villagers. Fear, anxiety, and underneath, a thread of curiosity. At least it wasn’t all bad.
Silence hung heavy over the inn and the entire village. Nydara’s roar had stilled even the birds and the insects. Maleena tossed the catcher strap up on the saddle and then strode toward the inn until she stood halfway between it and Nydara.
People gathered around the edge of the clearing in the shadow of the trees. On the wide porch of the inn, Edadella stood close with her mostly grown sons. Maleena recognized several others as the same merchant and his guards who had come to Lowden every year for as long as she could re
member.
Maleena lifted her chin, looked Edadella in the eye, and broke the silence. “I am Di’shan Maleena Wyndam, rider of the Silver Nydara and a Guardian of Galdrilene.”
A few gasps greeted her formal introduction. Edadella gathered her full, apron-covered skirt in shaky hands and moved to the steps, hesitated, then walked down them. “Why have you come to my inn?”
“Why have you come to Lowden at all?” Master Endle, the mayor of Lowden, stepped from the shelter of the trees into the sunlight. “I thought we were well rid of you.”
Maleena barely spared him a glance before returning her attention to the innkeeper’s wife. “Where is your husband? It would be best if he were present for this as well.”
Edadella shook her head slightly. “He passed into Maiadar the winter before last.”
“Very well then, I will speak with just you for now.”
“You had better start speaking to me, young lady,” Master Endle growled.
When Maleena looked at him again there were five other men gathered around him. Who knew that one day she would warrant the attention of the entire village council? “There is very little I had ‘better do,’ Delin Endle. Rest assured, I will speak with you when I am ready. What I have to say now is between Edadella, Arrah, and myself.”
Edadella placed a hand over her heart. “Arrah?” She cast a worried look at her youngest son. The lanky youth, if Maleena remembered correctly, had just entered his seventeenth year. He looked uncomfortable and afraid. “What could you possibly want with Arrah?”
Though the first flush of fall color tinged the trees, it was much hotter than normal this time of year in Lowden and the mid-day sun felt uncomfortably warm under the weight of the padded shirt and chainmail tunic she wore. “It would be best if we spoke inside.”
She strode past the innkeeper and those on the porch. Edadella caught up to her just before she crossed the threshold. “I don’t allow weapons in my inn.” She gestured to the slender sword hanging at Maleena’s waist.
Ashes And Spirit (Book 3) Page 32
