“Who else did father bargain away?” Jhonate asked, looking at the others. “Sir Hilt says that two of my brothers are remaining behind to join the academy. Surely not you, Qurl. Father would not send away both his fourth and fifth born sons. Or have you fallen from his favor?”
“Your tongue is sharp as ever, Jhonate,” the man replied. Qurl looked to be the oldest of the brothers and had the bulkiest build, stretching the seams of his winter coat. Red ribbons were woven into his braids. “Father sent me here to make sure you don’t find a way to slither out of this.” He glanced at Justan. “Is this your betrothed?”
Jhonate turned to look at Justan and he saw the red welt that was already forming on her cheek. “Yes. This is Sir Edge, named at the Bowl of Souls. He is a great warrior and bonding wizard.”
Qurl stood, giving Justan an appraising look. He was just as tall as Justan and carried a Jharro staff slightly smaller than Jhonate’s in his right hand. “I have heard that you have a Jharro bow, Sir Edge.”
“I do,” Justan replied.
“May I see it?” Qurl asked.
“It is in my quarters,” Justan said, knowing instantly that he had already made the kind of mistake Jhonate had warned him about.
“Do you often let the tree’s gift gather dust?” Qurl replied, his voice tinged with contempt.
Justan saw Jhonate’s jaw clench. He realized that he had never seen her without her staff at her side. Justan kept his voice level. “I usually keep it with me, but I was clearing rubble when we heard of your arrival. I haven’t had time to retrieve it.”
“You leave your bow behind when you labor and yet you carry your swords?” Qurl snorted and gave Jhonate a wry look. “How low. Are you always so lax when teaching your pupils?”
Jhonate winced. He is right. I am sorry, Justan. I should have prepared you better before coming in here.
What should I say? he asked, wanting to make things better.
Nothing, she replied.
“You are being harsh, brother,” said the youngest of the brothers in the room. He was lounging on his cot, his winter coat unlaced down the front revealing a simple deerskin shirt underneath. His hair was more dark brown than black and he wore ribbons the same shade of green as Jhonate’s. “The trees do not require this.”
“This is true,” Jhonate said. “Father may require that the Leeths Clan keep our weapons at our side, but Sir Edge is not of our family.”
“It is about respect!” Qurl said through gritted teeth. He shot a promising glance at the younger brother.
Justan wanted to say something but kept his jaw shut. Instead he folded his arms, making sure the rune on the back of his right hand was clearly visible, and gave Qurl a level gaze.
“He is my betrothed,” Jhonate said. “I would not be with him if he did not respect his gift.”
Qurl snorted. “Perhaps. We have a long road ahead of us in which to determine the manner of your betrothed. Come, Jhexin. Let us see what these ‘dry foot’ warriors have to eat at this time of day.”
Jhexin nodded and the two Jharro wielders moved past Justan into the hallway.
“Wait, Qurl,” Jhonate said. “I have questions for you!”
“Ask the yearling,” the other brother said with a dismissive wave and they continued down the hall.
“Yearling?” Justan wondered.
“They are remarking on my youth, dry foot,” said the youngest brother, still laying back on the cot.
“Dry foot?” Justan said, confused.
“It is a derogatory term,” Jhonate said, frowning. “My people come from the marshes and most outsiders that come there fear to get their feet wet.”
She nudged her brother’s leg with her staff. “Sit up, Pelgroth, and show my betrothed more respect than the others!”
Pelgroth sighed and swung his feet over the edge of the cot. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Sorry, fullsister. And I apologize, Sir Edge. If Jhonate likes you, your feet must be at least partially damp.”
“And do I not warrant an embrace, fullbrother?” Jhonate said, raising an eyebrow.
A cautious smile appeared on her younger brother’s face. “Well, I suppose the others are gone.” He stood and wrapped his arms around her. “I missed you, Jhonate.”
“And I you, Pelgroth,” she said with a smile, returning his embrace. She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back at arms-length. “You have grown much since I last saw you.”
“That happens when one is gone for over three years,” he said reproachfully. “With you gone, the clan’s clod-head ratio has been out of control.”
Jhonate’s smile faded a bit. “My one regret has been leaving you and Trincy behind.”
He shrugged. “We were quite angry with you about it at first, but that was just because we wished we could do the same.”
Justan found himself smiling. He liked this brother. “So you’re the other one staying behind here at the academy then?”
“I am,” he said, turning an appraising gaze on Justan. “And I am glad of it, too. Anything to get out from under father’s thumb.”
“Pelgroth!” Jhonate said reproachfully. “Do not disrespect father.”
“Come on,” he said. “It is not about respect. It is about freedom. You of all people should know that.” Jhonate pursed her lips, but didn’t disagree with him. Pelgroth spoke to Justan. “So, Sir Edge. You are the one who won my sister’s heart. How did you do that when she does not have one?”
Justan chuckled. “We both know that isn’t true.”
Pelgroth raised his hands and tucked them behind his head. “I think I like you, Sir Edge. Too bad. I think father plans on killing you.”
Justan’s smile faltered. Jhonate grabbed Pelgroth’s arm and sat, pulling him down to sit on the cot next to her. “You must tell me what has been going on since I left.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“You mean over the last three years?” Pelgroth looked incredulous. “Do you know nothing?”
“Very little, fullbrother,” she replied. “Sir Hilt told me a few things but I did not ask for more.”
“What does it mean when you call him fullbrother?” Justan asked.
“We share the same mother as well as father,” Jhonate replied.
Pelgroth wrinkled his nose. “Have you told him nothing of our people?”
“Just tell me what has happened,” Jhonate said, refocusing him. “All I know is that father is still Protector of the Grove and that he has refused to take another wife from the Prath Clan.”
“The Prath Clan is pretty soaked about it, too,” Pelgroth said, shaking his head for emphasis. “But they never have liked father anyway and he says he is done taking wives. I, for one, am glad of it. Our clan is enough of a snake pit as it is with seven surly women about. Besides, father has become too fixated on Tayle women. Can you imagine the outcome if he took on another wife from their Clan?”
“The Prath might take up weapons against us,” Jhonate said.
Pelgroth laughed. “Sure, they would arrive just in time to find that our other mothers had killed him in his sleep.”
“Do not be ridiculous,” Jhonate said dismissively, but her brow was knit in thought. Justan could sense her mind churning. “I suppose that means no more siblings then.”
“Did Hilt not tell you?” Pelgroth said. “Liz had a daughter about six months ago. Father named her Lizbeth.”
“So you have another sister?” Justan asked. That made twenty six children. When you had that many did another one even matter? Being an only child, he found the concept of having twenty five siblings a difficult one to grasp.
“Possibly two,” Pelgroth replied. He looked Jhonate in the eye. “Our mother is pregnant again.”
“At her age?” Jhonate said, her eyes wide. “Is that safe?”
“The nurses were worried, especially after what she went through with Trincy. The other wives wanted to s
top the birth, but Listener Beth said she had a vision that both mother and the baby will live,” Pelgroth said. “The baby will be born some time this spring.”
Jhonate sighed in relief, one hand on her chest.
“Your people seem to have a lot of respect for Beth,” Justan remarked.
“She did save the grove, after all,” Pelgroth said. They gave him surprised glances and his nose wrinkled in confusion. “You are Hilt and Beth’s friends are you not? Did you not know?”
“I saw that she had a Jharro dagger, but I never asked her why,” Justan replied. “What did she do?”
“What did she-? She only fought her way to the top of the highest mountain and brought down a bag of Jharro seeds!” Pelgroth said, his face animated. “You should ask Hilt about it. Both he and Yntri were there when she did it.”
“New seeds . . .” Jhonate raised a hand to her mouth. “Then-.”
“A whole new section of the grove has been planted! Over a hundred saplings have grown and the old trees have wakened with new life! If not for the Roo-Dan, life couldn’t be better!” he said enthusiastically.
“The Roo-Dan?” Justan asked.
“Rag-tag villages to the east of the grove, full of witches and sorcerers,” Jhonate said, pulling on her lip thoughtfully. “A constant annoyance, nothing more.”
“More than an annoyance now,” Pelgroth said. “There are rumors that they have been banding together. Even father is worried. People are going missing.”
Jhonate dropped her lip and looked right at her brother. “Witches’ work?”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “No one knows for sure, but whole villages of our people have disappeared. There is no sign of battle. It is as if they just wandered off.”
“That would take one powerful witch. Even Mellinda couldn’t do that,” Justan said. Bewitching magic could control lesser minds, but for a witch to take over a human mind, the victim would have to be a willing participant.
“Is this why father is making the alliance with the academy?” Jhonate asked.
“I do not know,” Pelgroth said with a shrug. “Father acts as if he is not worried about the Roo-Dan, but he sent Xeldryn and Sen along with two score warriors to investigate.”
“Then he is worried,” Jhonate said. She looked at Justan. “Xeldryn is the first-born son. Father prefers to keep him at his side.”
Justan shook his head. “If he was setting up this alliance to get the academy’s help right away, this is a bad time to do it. There is little we can do. We are stretched far too thin as it is with the rebuild. Besides, if he was sending for help, father and Hilt said nothing about it.”
“Then why would he go to such lengths for the alliance?” Jhonate asked. “Why send four of his sons away at a time like this?”
Pelgroth gave her an incredulous look. “Seriously, Jhonate? After all that father has gone through to bring you home, you still don’t believe?”
“What are you saying?” she asked, squinting in confusion.
“It is about you!” Pelgroth shouted. “By the marshes, why else do you think our brothers are so angry? With each successive time you rebuffed his requests to come home, father has gotten more and more angry. You saw what he did to Hilt the last time he came back empty handed.”
Justan swallowed at the thought of the new scar that ran from Hilt’s ear down his neckline. The dread he’d been feeling grow in his stomach at each mention of Xedrion’s fury reached a new depth of intensity. Jhonate was worth any obstacle he would have to overcome, but he was realizing just how much he didn’t know about the situation he was about to walk into.
“I am just one of his daughters and an unimportant one,” Jhonate said, though her voice was uncharacteristically weak and unconvincing. “He has ten now, after all, and I am number six.”
“You are and always have been his favorite, and you know it. Everyone knows it!” Pelgroth said. “Among all of us, besides maybe Xeldryn, he loves you best.”
“I don’t understand,” Justan said to Jhonate. “If he wants you home so badly, why did he send you here in the first place?”
“You have not told him?” Jhonate looked down sheepishly and Pelgroth laughed. “Father did not send her here. She stole off in the night and came on her own.”
Chapter Two
Jhonate ran away? Fist asked in surprise. Though the ogre was over a weeks’ travel away lying in his oversized bed at the Mage School, his thoughts were clear in Justan’s mind. Their bond had a long range when they were both able to fully concentrate on the connection. It also helped that Justan’s magic was particularly strong. That doesn’t seem like her.
No it doesn’t. She was offended when her brother put it that way, Justan sent as he lay in his cot in the warehouse at the edge of Reneul’s ruins. The building was used mainly to store equipment and rations, but the council allowed him a little corner to use as his own.
Justan had been offered a bunk in the officer’s quarters, but he had refused it. He didn’t feel comfortable there. He had never really been a student at the academy, much less an officer. Besides, Jhonate slept there and with the way she tended to listen to his thoughts, what if she listened to his dreams? Justan found the possibility shudder-inducing.
But Jhonate is good at running, Gwyrtha commented from her spot at the side of his cot. That was another benefit to sleeping in this place. The rogue horse could stay by him instead of sleeping in the stables with the horses. The more intelligent she became, the less she liked being housed with the animals.
Not like that, Gwyrtha, Fist said. The ogre could hear her from his side of the connection, though her thoughts were faint.
Ohh. You mean running in fear, Gwyrtha said. No, Jhonate doesn’t run like that.
Jhonate didn’t see it as running away at the time, Justan explained. At least that’s what she told herself. The way she explains it, she was just taking advantage of an opportunity. Sir Hilt had regaled her family with tales of the Battle Academy for years. So when she overheard her father and Sir Hilt talking about the possibility of sending one of his children to the academy, she decided to volunteer.
She ‘volunteered’? Fist said, his amusement rolling through the bond. By sneaking off into the night and pretending to be an envoy from her father?
Pretending? Why didn’t she ask her father first? Gwyrtha wondered.
She knew he never would have let her go, Justan replied.
Oh. Then she was running, she said matter-of-factly. Justan couldn’t refute the rogue horse’s logic.
What was so bad there that she wanted to leave? Fist wondered.
I don’t know, Justan said. I’ve gotten the picture that her father is overbearing but, knowing her, there has to be more to it than that. He shrugged. I’m sure I’ll find out more as we go.
When do you leave? Fist asked.
Justan could feel a hint of unease coming from the ogre. The day after tomorrow. I haven’t asked Hilt which route we’re taking yet, but I’m assuming we’ll stop by the Mage School on the way. That way you can join us. Fist’s anxiety rose and Justan paused. That is, if you want to come.
I do! The ogre said. It’s just . . . I have a lot to learn here right now and . . . Mistress Sherl might not let me.
Justan frowned. Do you have to refer to her as ‘Mistress Sherl’?
She says I have to, Fist said emphatically. She may be Darlan to you, but she’s Wizardess Sherl to the wizards and she says since the other apprentices have to address their masters properly, I do too.
Justan’s mother had taken Fist on as an apprentice when it was found out that he had elemental magic. Justan understood the logic, but it still felt strange.
Alright, but I think I can convince mother to let you come with me. Justan said and he could sense the ogre’s wince. Wait, you’re just making excuses, aren’t you? You must be having a good time there.
I am. See, Mistress Sherl made the other wizards let me bring Squirrel to class. Also . . . I have
some good friends here now. We sit at lunch together every day and they even study with me at the library.
That’s good, Justan said, trying to sound enthusiastic, though he felt a sense of unease rising within him. Why did he feel that way? It was good for Fist to have friends. Who are they?
There’s Antyni. Fist pushed an image of the elf girl through to Justan’s mind. She looked odd wearing a student robe instead of her normal forest garb. They made her apprentice real fast. Somehow she remembers a lot of what Qyxal learned while he was here and her elemental magic’s real close to his too.
Justan nodded, remembering Qyxal’s funeral and the way the elf’s twin sister had linked with him before his spirit had passed on. That’s good for her. I’m glad you two are friends.
There’s also Neau. The ogre sent Justan an image of a portly young man wearing a blue robe with red trim. And Jezzer. This one was a thin older man wearing spectacles. His robe was gray. He’s new. He came here to learn how to use his spirit magic. The wizards say he’s good at blessing and binding magic.
That’s great for you, Fist, Justan said, pushing his unease away. You know, you really don’t need to feel bad if you don’t want to come with me to Malaroo. I understand.
No! It’s not like that, the ogre replied. I do want to come. I just . . . I’m not sure what to do. If you needed me to fight at your side I wouldn’t hesitate.
I know. And that shouldn’t be necessary, Justan said. I mean, it won’t be necessary. No fighting this trip.
You don’t sound sure, the ogre replied.
No. I’m sure. It’s-. It’s okay. Justan sighed. Look, we won’t make it down to the Mage School for another week yet. Think about it. Talk to my mother about it. See what she thinks. I’d love to have you with us, but I understand if you can’t. Do what’s best for you. Justan paused. This was the most awkward he had ever felt during a conversation with Fist. So, um, is there anything else interesting going on?
The new fire wizard on the High Council came today, Fist replied, glad for the change of subject. He’s named.
Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) Page 2
