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Amane of Teravinea - The Crown (The Teravinea Series Book 3)

Page 25

by D. Maria Trimble


  We pulled apart. I felt his heart beat as fast as mine.

  As we stood facing each other, a shadow crossed Ansel’s face — his brows furrowed, “I marvel at the twist of fate that brought us this victory.”

  “What do you mean?” I said.

  “You and Eshshah were punished quite severely for an act that, in the end, ensured our triumph.”

  “And I’d do it again if it would guarantee victory.”

  “You’d better not.” He gave me a sidelong glance before he kissed me again.

  Ansel shook his head in wonder, “We’ve succeeded, my Girl of the Prophecy.”

  “Congratulations my King.” I smiled up at him.

  He touched my cheek and allowed a slight smile. “We’re close, but we’re not there yet, my love.” His face saddened. “We have victory, but I have yet to be crowned. We’ve suffered great loss to get to this point.”

  “I know. We’ve lost Bern.” My voice came out in a jagged whisper. “They’re still searching for Eben.”

  Ansel heaved a great sigh.

  “We still have to find Galtero,” he said. “I have a squad hunting him. We will find him. It’s our first priority.”

  “No doubt he’s cowering somewhere in the castle,” I said.

  “Or has already made his escape.”

  “Ansel, has there been any word on my father?”

  He pursed his lips. My heart stopped.

  “There is word he was captured. It has been verified. I’m sorry, Amáne.”

  My knees nearly gave out. I held tightly to Ansel.

  “I saw him! It was him. Ansel I could have done something.”

  “There was nothing you could have done.”

  “We need to find him.”

  “I’ve dispatched a search team,” Ansel said.

  “Let me help.”

  “They’ve left already. You’re in no condition to join a search party, Amáne. Look at you. You can hardly stay on your feet. You’re doing too many healings when you’re so battle-weary. Please get some rest. We’ll discuss where you’ll best be needed when you wake.”

  I couldn’t argue. Ansel was right. I allowed him to walk me to my quarters. I bid him good night — good morning would have been more appropriate. I entered the tent and dropped into my cot. But my fatigue prevented sleep from taking me. I lay with my eyes wide open. Tears flowed as the horrid events of the day flashed before me. I couldn’t see myself ever being able to sleep again.

  “Amáne,” said Eshshah, “would you care to join me?”

  I pulled the covers off my cot and trudged to the other side of camp where Eshshah lay. Spreading them near her neck, I settled in close to her warmth. She hummed a calming tune and soon I drifted into a dreamless sleep.

  “Rider Amáne?”

  I startled awake. Squinting at the light, I realized most of the morning had passed. A soldier stood before me, an apologetic look on his face. He saluted. I blinked and shook my head still heavy from sleep.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “I’m so sorry to wake you, rider.” He turned a concerned eye toward Eshshah. “Permission to speak to your dragon.”

  I nodded

  “My greetings to you mighty Eshshah,” the soldier said.

  My dragon dipped her head.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” the man said as he turned to me. “I should have thought earlier that I’d find you with your dragon.”

  I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair, nodding for him to continue.

  “I have a message to deliver to you. A courier arrived with a note for your eyes alone. He insisted he be the one to deliver it, but I wouldn’t allow it. I asked, but he refused to divulge from where he came.”

  The soldier thrust out a sealed parchment and stood stiffly, even after I took it from his hand.

  “Thank you.” I hesitated, then added, “Dismissed.”

  He saluted once again, turned on his heel and marched away.

  I examined the parchment and the insignia impressed in black wax. The seal looked familiar. I’d seen it on several pieces of correspondence in the command pavilion. My hand trembled as I stared at it. Taking a deep breath, I broke the seal and read its contents.

  My Dearest Amáne, I write this note in haste. My position has been discovered. I was arrested yesterday for treason against Galtero. Fortune looked my way. I have escaped. Please, I need your assistance. Can you meet me at the river gate? I’ll be hiding there. With all my love, Your Father

  I couldn’t believe it. He was safe. My heart raced. My eyes filled. “Father,” I said out loud, “wait for me. We’re on our way.”

  I grabbed Eshshah’s saddle, ready to throw it on her, until she stopped me.

  “Amáne, we can’t just leave. Have you forgotten our position? Have you forgotten your punishment? You must get permission before we go. Quickly, find Lord Ansel, show him the note. I can’t allow you additional insubordinate behavior.”

  “Eshshah, I love you.” I held her fangs and kissed her nose. “I lost myself for a moment. Thank you.”

  I closed my eyes at the thought of what would have been a grave mistake. Another charge against me could mean death. With the parchment in hand I rushed to find Ansel.

  Sovann told me his rider was in the command pavilion. I charged into the tent, not even bothering to acknowledge the salute the guard gave me.

  Ansel turned quickly from his conversation with Braonán, the Healer and some of his commanders. Concern showed in his eyes. His face looked haggard. It seemed he didn’t take his own advice. Pity filled my heart for him. I’ll have to insist he take a rest once I return with my father.

  Without waiting I blurted out, “Ansel, I mean Lord Ansel, I have a note from Duer. He’s escaped. I must go to pick him up. Look.” I practically shoved the parchment at him.

  Ansel took it from my hand. He examined the seal carefully. The Healer and Braonán came up beside him and studied the insignia. I shifted from foot to foot. Why are they taking so long? I bit my lip before I would say anything I would regret. Feigning patience, I stopped my fidgeting.

  “It is his seal,” Ansel said.

  The Healer and Braonán agreed.

  I couldn’t hold back. I had to move this along before I exploded. “Permission requested to fly with Eshshah to pick him up. Please.” My voice didn’t come out as controlled as I hoped.

  “Amáne, we’re in the middle of something we need to finish. It shouldn’t take more than a couple more hours. Wait for me and Sovann and I will fly with you.”

  I gasped and then pressed my lips together. A couple hours? I can’t wait that long. Could Duer wait that long?

  Instead of what I wanted to say, I took a slow, deep breath and prepared to argue my point logically.

  “Lord Ansel, there has probably been some amount of time since my father wrote this plea.” I tried to choose my words carefully. “The longer I, uh, we keep him waiting, the more dangerous it becomes. He has done so much for our cause for all these years. It would seem best to rescue him sooner rather than delay. Eshshah and I can leave now, with your permission, and can be back at camp before you have finished here.”

  “Do you recognize his hand?” Ansel asked.

  “I’ve never seen his writing. Does it compare to the reports you’ve received from him?”

  “It does look similar,” the Healer said. “But we can’t be sure if it was coerced. We have to be certain it is not a trap.”

  “May I ask if there is any way to be certain? While we discuss and debate, is he waiting with his life in our hands?” I couldn’t believe my voice remained steady.

  Ansel scowled and bit his lip. I hated to put this pressure on him, but it was my father we were talking about.

  Turning to one of his commanders, Ansel asked, “Is the river gate secured yet?”

  “Yes, my Lord. Our reports show there is no enemy activity on that side.”

  What if Ansel insists I wait for him? The delay c
ould prove fatal to Duer. Do I dare risk it and go anyway?

  “Amáne,” Eshshah warned, “I will not take you without permission.”

  “I’m sorry, Eshshah. It was just a fleeting thought.”

  She rumbled her disapproval. Shame washed over me.

  It felt like a long moment passed before Ansel said, “You do have a point, Amáne. There’s not a way we can be absolutely sure. On the other hand we can’t put his life in any more danger than it has already been for the last several years. We do owe him a great service, but you cannot go alone. I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait for me.”

  Before I could protest, Rider Quinian stepped forward. “Begging your pardon, my Lord. With your permission, I will accompany Rider Amáne. Nye, from the Valley of Dragons will carry me. He and I could use some flying time together. We need to get to know each other.”

  Quinian was one of the older dragon riders. He was a quiet man. I didn’t know him well. Nye had recently chosen him as a companion.

  I smiled at him in thanks for coming to my aid. My hopes soared as I turned to Ansel.

  He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “Thank you, Quinian. I’ll give you permission for this task.”

  Ansel clenched, then released his jaw. Addressing both of us, he said, “You will keep a sharp eye for any foul play. You will land quickly, retrieve Duer even more quickly, and head back to camp without delay. Let Sovann know when you’ve returned.”

  I let go the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I wanted to jump up, laugh and hug him, but instead I saluted him. “Thank you, Lord Ansel. We’ll be back very soon.”

  Before he had any time to reconsider, I spun around and hastened out of the tent, hoping Quinian would follow without delay. I ran back to where Eshshah waited.

  As I threw on a saddle and tightened her girth, I nearly shouted out loud, “Eshshah, I have been blessed. Our mission to win the crown has succeeded. I have two wonderful men in my life. I will catch up with my father for all the time we’ve been separated. I will marry my love and heir to the crown of Teravinea. And I have you, my faithful friend. I’m the most fortunate girl in all of Teravinea.”

  Eshshah hummed in agreement as I sang a song of thanks.

  Quinian, Nye, Eshshah and I spiralled up and headed toward the castle.

  “Thank you, Quinian,” I said over the rush of wind. “I really appreciate you coming with us. I don’t know what I would have done if I had to make my father wait another two hours.”

  “It’s truly my pleasure, Amane. There’s no way to explain what it’s like to fly again. I can never replace Alcyone but I’m certain Nye and I will become close friends for a long time.”

  Nye hummed in pleasure.

  The river gate was just ahead. It was the same gate from which I had escaped after my horrifying experience in the arena of death, when Galtero pitted me against his lizards.

  The memory assaulted my joy. Anger burned in my throat. As soon as we return to camp, I plan to volunteer for the manhunt. I recalled my vow to put a spear through Galtero’s black heart, and I was determined to see it fulfilled. With effort, I pushed back my loathing. This is a joyful mission. Don’t let that cursed tyrant spoil it now.

  We descended as we approached the river gate. I saw my father standing outside the wall. Joy filled my heart.

  “Who is that behind him? Why does my father not smile at us?” I asked.

  My attention was so riveted on Duer and whoever accompanied him, I jumped at Quinian’s shout of alarm.

  My head jerked around as a harpoon careened past us. It plunged into Nye’s chest. He let out an ear-splitting shriek as he threw his head back. His legs flailing in the air, I watched in shock as he tumbled backwards. Quinian was crushed under his bulk as they hit the ground.

  In the space of the same breath, a rope meshwork catapulted toward Eshshah and me.

  “Eshshah!” I screamed.

  She veered, but not fast enough. The whirling net caught her wing. The weights spun around entangling her feet, her other wing and me. We plummeted from the sky.

  Eshshah crash-landed in a heap before my father. The loud crunch of her bones was deafening. She lay still. I couldn’t feel her presence as I tried to recover from the impact. My face had smashed into her neck. Blood gushed from my nose.

  A chill went up my spine as I looked toward my father. Now I saw he was tied to a stake, mouth gagged, his eyes wide with terror. He shook his head in a belated warning.

  In the next instant, the person behind him brought his sword around and slit my father’s throat. His blood spattered the ground at his feet.

  A scream burst from the depths of my heart. I struggled to get clear of the ropes that bound me.

  My eyes flew to the river gate as the metal portal screeched open. A man in a full suit of black armor rode out on a large dark war horse. A phalanx of soldiers formed around him, bows and swords at the ready.

  I recoiled at the sound of an oily voice. “Thank you, Darqin.”

  Galtero.

  “What a winning idea you had, my boy, luring our little dragon rider here. And such a brilliant ending to her traitorous father.”

  Darqin. The twisted boy from Anbon who had tried to kill me for refusing his attentions. He stepped from his hiding place behind my father.

  “Ha! It was well worth it to see your face, Sir Amáne,” Darqin said, a wild look in his eyes. “I told you you’d be sorry. Oh, I am enjoying this moment.”

  “And it’ll be your last!” I screamed.

  Before I finished my sentence I freed my hands from the net, yanked a knife from its saddle sheath and hurled it at Darqin. It pierced his throat. Mid-laugh, his eyes went wide in surprise. He gurgled his last.

  “You’re spoiling my fun,” said Galtero. His slick voice turned my stomach. “I had such delightful visions of what he could do with you.”

  His voice changed to almost a growl, filled with hatred. “But I won’t miss another chance to finish you off. Your dragon is dead. Join her.” He turned to the archers beside him. “Fire at will.”

  My riding shield was on my arm before the first arrows reached me. I blocked them as I freed myself from the net. Grabbing my glaive, I leaped from the saddle.

  My dragon. My father. Quinian. Nye.

  Red fury overcame me. I went berserk.

  With no regard that I faced at least twenty archers plus the swordsmen, I rushed at them. The visor was up on Galtero’s armored helmet. A demented laugh came from my throat at the look of incredulity on his face. He backed his horse to a safer distance.

  I set upon the soldiers, slashing and thrusting my weapon. The closest went down without effort. A look at my blood-crazed eyes sent several to turn tail and retreat. I cut through the archers, hardly aware of my violence.

  The swordsmen tried to stop me, but were just as easy to bring down as the lazy archers. The bodies piled before me.

  I blinked as my head began to clear. My actions sickened me.

  Two men were left in front of me. Terror froze their faces. They’d dropped their swords. I gulped in a deep breath as I became aware of the destruction around me. The blood of my enemy, mixed with my own from the strikes I couldn’t evade.

  My eyes rose to Galtero. I gathered the pieces of my broken mind, empty of Eshshah. I remembered my vow. Coward that he was, Galtero wheeled his horse around and bolted toward safety.

  I pulled my arm back. With all my strength I hurled my glaive as I screamed, “Coward!”

  The blade pierced his armor as he retreated. The shaft protruded from his slumped form as the horse carried him away. I hoped it reached his black heart.

  My dragon. I spun around and sped toward Eshshah. She lay crumpled in the dirt. The net entangled her.

  “Eshshah!” I screamed.

  I tore away at the ropes. My dagger slashed at the buckles that held her breastplate. My ear on her chest picked up no sound. I pushed my hands onto her broken body near her heart. Squeezing my eyes shut,
I hummed her healing tune. When I felt nothing, my mind still empty of her presence, I tried harder and hummed louder.

  My hands heated. A glowing light flowed around them. The heat increased. My palms blistered; my eyes blurred as my interior fire escalated. Still nothing from my precious dragon.

  She’s gone. Stop trying, I told myself.

  “No! I won’t believe it,” I answered.

  I ignored the pain as I cried out her name and pushed myself like never before. My Eshshah. The smell of my burning flesh did not hold me back. My hair began to singe. Little wisps of smoke came off my clothing. Pain wracked my body, my sight darkened, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit she was gone. Jaws clenched, I exerted myself with one final thrust. An excruciating flash shot through me as I found myself hurled into the Shadows.

  I floated above my dragon who lay motionless on the ground — my body deathly still beside her. Quinian and Nye lay at a distance.

  Sovann careened toward us. Ansel leaped from the saddle before his dragon had tucked his wings. Further behind them, two more dragons with riders flew to join them at the tragic scene.

  Ansel knelt beside my body and pulled it onto his lap. He caressed my smoking hair and kissed my face. He held me close, frantically calling my name. His body shook with grief.

  Sovann approached Eshshah and nudged her head. The two other dragons, Sitara and Dinesh, moved in beside Sovann and nuzzled my lifeless dragon.

  The Healer and Gallen approached slowly. They clung tightly to each other as they looked on in shock.

  I watched from above with little emotion — just as an observer. My lack of sentiment made me believe this was not the Shadows I had experienced before. Have I crossed to the Other Side?

  Feeling a presence at my back, I turned and saw my father. He looked younger and peaceful. He moved toward me, holding out his hand. Then he turned as my mother came up behind him. I smiled at their touching reunion. Both of my parents beckoned me to follow them. Before I yielded to their invitation, I gazed back toward Ansel. He held my limp body — his face buried in my neck. He rocked me and sobbed, repeating my name softly, mournfully.

 

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