“There’s something you should know.”
They had been sat in silence for some time, Trevisian reclining on an old abandoned bed, Kiara resting against him. Both of them were looking out of the wide broken window over the western slope of Ishtalia down to the docks and over the sea. They had spoken already the few words that explained everything, only the words that mattered. Outside, the two suns were setting over the sea.
Kiara and Trevisian had been afforded these apartments when the alliance had been accepted. It wasn’t much, but it was the best the Laowyn could offer for the King and future Queen. Would she reign as Queen? If they didn’t make it through tomorrow when the Edict was enacted she never would and Trevisian would die a young King barely having reigned.
She could feel the strong and steady rise of his chest beneath her, one hand was twisted in her hair, the other resting on her stomach.
“What is it?”
“Garesh didn’t just use the Laowyn’s supposed rebellion to turn the court against me.”
The fingers she had been lightly tracing over his hand on her stomach stilled.
“Do you know anything about my mother?” he asked.
They had already talked about her parents. Kiara knew they had died here in Ishtalia, and that from this city her parents bodies had been sent to sea, Zephenesh had told her that long ago. It was not until Zephenesh had requested to see her earlier today that they had spoken of it, although he hadn’t known quite what to say.
They had spoken quietly, sitting on the docks, running over the past months and years. He had described her mother for the first time, of how like her Kiara was in her boldness, and how much that had scared Zephenesh when she was growing up. He had not condoned her behaviour, and she doubted that he ever would, but had felt a change in the Great Spirit since she had been united with the King. Something was different now the Elders had met and decided in favour of battle. The Great Spirit would be with them, and if he was, perhaps there would be a sign as in the days of old, when the Enspers had shown the Spirit’s favour. When Zephenesh spoke this way, Kiara listened, but the underlying pain of his betrayal had not yet been abated.
After they had left each other, silence no longer separating them but nothing really resolved, Kiara had returned to Trevisian. She told him briefly about her mother and father, showing him the necklace. She explained to him that the sword he had taken from her at the palace was her father’s. He had given it to her then. Now it was Trevisian’s turn.
“She was Queen of Emrilion.” The steady rise of Trevisian’s chest became unpredictable beneath her. “Her crime was Shapeshifting. She was executed when I was very young and I remember very little of her. She told me…” Trevisian trailed off, shifting his weight on the bed.
Kiara put a hand gently over one of his, the tense knuckles hard beneath her palm. He took a breath, ready to start again.
“My mother told me that Shapeshifting is an ability that can be passed on to another.”
Kiara’s mind was working twice as fast to catch up with what he was saying to her.
“I’ve heard stories but…” she trailed off.
“The Reluwyn do not speak of it, and my father…” again he paused before continuing. “He was infatuated with power. Power over his race, over others, over his family. You argue for Reluwyn barbarity, and that is what my father was, barbaric.”
Barbaric. That is what she had argued about with Trevisian since she had met him, before she had known who he really was. King Emril was barbaric. Kiara’s mind skipped like a stone over the waters of her memories, back to the palace, back to the library, back to the game they had played of questions and answers. His words had been the Reluwyn are a barbaric race. The question had been, have you ever been beaten?
Her hand tightened over his, clasping the long fingers and wide palm.
“He hated anyone who threatened his power, and my mother was from an ancient line of Reluwyn known for magic. When your race speak of the Great Spirit, our race speaks of magic, and my mother could shift into animal form. The Reluwyn used to fear and revere those who were gifted, but my mother’s influence surpassed my father’s as she mastered her gift.”
He paused, his hand turning under hers and his fingers tracing over her palm.
“I saw her once, shifted, into the form of a horse. I don’t remember much of what happened, only that afterwards things changed in the palace. My father would no longer see my mother, and whenever I was with her there were always eyes watching us. One day she was gone, and I was told later that for the crimes of shifting, a practice now outlawed by my father, she had been executed.”
“You inherited this ability?”
“The phoenix tattoo on my back is the tribal mark of my mother’s line. I was given it a few months before her death to show the gift that runs in my blood.”
“Have you ever shifted?”
“Yes,” again he said it so simply, as if it were nothing, nothing to discuss, nothing to think about. “I believed that Garesh saved my life when he made me promise never to use my ability within the palace walls.”
Kiara remembered the times he had escaped the palace.
“I used to run away just so I could be…” he struggled for the right words. “Myself. I never wanted to be King, but if the reins of power are to be left in the hands of evil, I cannot be content.”
Kiara slipped from the bed and padded barefoot to the window. A fresh sea breeze pushed up from the docks, through the window and ruffled her hair. “Would you have let my people die if it had meant your safety?”
“Maybe.”
His honesty sent a chill through her. She shivered, hugging herself against the night air.
“But you wouldn’t have let me die?”
She could hear him rise from the bed. A few moments later his hands came to rest on her arms and he drew her back against himself. “I didn’t come for them, Kiara, I came for you and I’m staying for you.”
“What’s it like – changing?” She could feel his breath against her hair, feel his heart beating against her back.
“It’s like… freedom. In every fibre of your being.”
Kiara wanted to see him change. It all seemed too incredible, too unbelievable. She had heard the stories, as everyone had, of Shifters, those who shifted between human and animal forms.
“Alakvalto, that’s the name of my mother’s family.”
“Alakvalto.” Kiara rolled the Reluwyn name round in her mouth. “Alakvalto.”
“I like it better when you say it.” Trevisian turn her around in his arms, laying his lips on hers, drawing her close.
She drew away from him.“So I am Kiara Alakvalto?”
“If you wish.” He kissed her again. “If…” he looked almost shy for a moment, all fierceness fallen from his face. “If you’ll still take me, Shapeshifter that I am?”
She wondered at him. The King who had ruled an entire Empire up until a few days ago. A man who had legions to fight for him. A fierce fighter himself. A Shapeshifter who could take any animal form. It was all brought to naught with one question.
“Yes.” She reached up, threading her fingers in his hair.
He pushed against her until her back was pressing on the wall. He leant into her, his hands becoming forceful on her arms, his mouth hungry, his eyes possessed by her. He pulled away from her for a second. “You’ve enchanted me.”
She chuckled against his mouth as he kissed her again. He moved to her neck when her mouth continued to be rebellious.
“Do you know what I was thinking?” he said between kisses.
“What?” Her breath was catching in her throat as she felt each fluttering of lips lightly against her skin.
“That those Edicts we sent out with the riders are just like those you sabotaged months ago.” Another kiss. “I would have stopped them for money, you for the paperwork, and now I am the one sending them.” The new Edicts, hastily drafted on what paper they could find within Ishtalia,
were proclamations allowing the Laowyn to defend themselves against aggressors. It was the best that Trevisian could do without the ability to revoke the previous Edict. The Laowyn could legally defend themselves.
Kiara’s laugh was husky against his neck.
“I love the way your laugh sounds.” Another kiss.
“When we go out and fight together, I hope Fidel gets reinstated as Captain. The Commander was refusing to do it.”
“Who told you that?” Trevisian came away a little, his amorous efforts apparently unable to deter his wife from her unromantic line of thought.
“Zeb.”
“I don’t like that elf.”
“You don’t like most people.” It was true, he had been grumbling about almost all of the people he had met and those within his own troops all day.
“He looks at you, you know.”
Kiara did know. She knew exactly what he meant. If another woman looked at the King in the same way she might be jealous.
“We have been through a lot together. He helped me escape my fate when the Laowyn captured me. It was more than my uncle did.”
Trevisian shrugged off her words, becoming more distant.
“I do not like the Commander.”
“I know, you told me.”
His shot a challenging look at her.
“The tall one, Fidel, is a good shot. He should fight tomorrow.” There was a sardonic smile that appeared across his mouth. Kiara wondered what was triggering it. “You should not.” The words brought her up short.
"What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” The stubborness was suddenly back in his face like a wildfire spreading rapidly over his features. “You shall not fight.”
“Do not think that because I am some kind of royal woman that I shall not fight. I know as well as you that the Reluwyn respect female fighters.”
The knowing comment saw a gentler look war with the angry one on his face. Apparently unable to decide on a response he gave none.
“I shall fight alongside my people and yours.”
He sighed. “I wish you would not.”
“I cannot sit and wait.”
“I cannot have you fight. If they break into the city, you must run to the docks - they have been making rafts all day for escape. You will have your father’s sword, and this,” he pulled back his sleeve and began untying the leather straps of a small sheath. She could see a small horn-handled dagger encased within it.
“Give me your arm.”
She obeyed his demand, raising her left arm for him to tie the sheath to.
He tugged her gently towards him, as if in compromise to his earlier zeal. “I don’t wish to spend tonight talking of serious things.” He pulled her into his arms.
“Neither do I,” she answered with a kiss.
Chapter 27
Sheets of rain fell across the plain, the pale layers obscuring Garesh’s forces from usual visibility. Calev and Jaik had been sent out with several Reluwyn scouts. They had spied the hostile army in the early hours of the morning; now they were halfway across the valley and were halted, holding their line.
The battlefield was eerily still and silent as Ikara’s piercing eyes swept across the opposing army. They outnumbered the loyal forces three to one, but the Resistance force which had left Ishtalia’s walls to meet the enemy was only half of the whole, the rest remaining within the city. They would be faced by a sea of enemies, a sea which was only paused between advancing waves, a sea which she would be commanding her troops to hold back.
She rode forward to meet the enemy commanders with the King and his Radichi warrior to her right, and the Laowyn Elders on her left. Fine droplets of rain collected in the angular plains of her face and ran in rivulets making her shiver.
She couldn’t help glancing back at her troops. The Laowyn and Reluwyn warriors stood in perfect unity through the ranks, just as if they had always fought alongside each other. The green of the Laowyn tunics was visible around breastplates on all the soldiers. When Ikara turned back she saw lines of crimson before her, stained much darker by the rain. As they drew near, and the rain became heavier, the droplets made tiny singing sounds as they fell on the armour of the motionless enemy soldiers. All looked ahead, mouths firmly shut, eyes wide open.
The centre of the field was quickly gained and the Laowyn party halted, standing silently, eyes ahead. Hendra’s horn had sent the leaders of the Laowyn forward to meet the enemy in one last attempt at peace. In the past perhaps this had worked, but everyone on the field knew that today it would do no such thing.
A section of riders broke away and advanced. Ikara guessed that they were led by the High Councillor - even in his battle garb he still wore the blue and silver robes of state – and in this moment she wanted nothing more than to pull the dagger from her boot and hurl it directly into his fleshy neck. But her aim was not sure, and besides, she had reluctantly agreed to an honourable discharge of the Laowyn people today. The Laowyn faced death, but the Great Spirit had brought them a King and a small army. The odds had gone up significantly since two days ago. She might have a chance to stab her dagger in that man’s neck herself, but it would have to wait until war was declared.
By his side rode two other officials, but neither seemed competent horseman. They looked nervously about themselves, the fat one’s neck rolls becoming more grotesque the more his head fidgeted from left to right; the other had thin sinewy legs that were far too long for his horse.
Before they had even reached the Laowyn party, Garesh called out unceremoniously. “I see you’ve taken in our cast out King!”
They were face to face with them now, Garesh’s horse squelching to a standstill in the mud.
Ikara made to retort, but Trevisian spoke. “I am their King, and they are my people, Garesh. It is you who have been cast out as a rebel in the Kingdom of Emrilion; it is you who dishonours the Reluwyn. Desist from the violent action you plan to take, and I will have mercy upon the men who follow you in ignorance.”
“Captain Aktabad, Captain Lira, your King demands your loyalty as he has always done,” Johan called.
“Silence!” roared Garesh.
Ikara watched the face of the High Councillor change colour, his countenance darkening into a look so full of malice that it shocked even her.
“I am Regent by proclamation of the document King Emril signed on his deathbed.”
“You were, until I married. That proclamation is now null and void. But you know that, do you not Garesh?” The King was taunting the High Councillor. “For you are the one who took my dead father’s hand to sign it falsely all those years ago.”
Ikara saw the opposing party look fearfully between themselves. The thin man, who had been looking at Garesh, now eyed Trevisian. The nervousness of the opposing party was clearly seen in the fidgeting of their mounts.
“An outrageous accusation - the sign of a desperate man! My Regency is all that has saved this Kingdom from your reckless apathy and evil nature. Do you not know,” Garesh looked to the Elders, his gaze falling briefly on Ikara. She felt a sickness creep into her stomach. “You have a devilish creature, a Shapeshifter among you?”
They had all known that the accusation was coming. That the King was a Shapeshifter was something which Ikara had only ever known as legend. Even tales of the Emrilion Queen who had been executed had been silenced by the Reluwyn. Now, in the space of two days, it had not just been the King who had been discovered as a Shapeshifter. There were others among the loyal troops who had since come forward and admitted their true nature. It had changed everything - now the Reluwyn were fighting for their lives as much as the Laowyn were.
“Enough!” It was Zephenesh who raised his voice in authority. “High Councillor Garesh, have you not come to enact an Edict against my people - and the King to whom your allegiance is owed? We came in peace but it is evident you have no such sentiments.”
Garesh’s grip was vice-like on the reins, making the creature f
ret and stamp on the slippery ground. Ikara could not tell whether it was because of being addressed by a Laowyn, or because of the truth that Zephenesh calmly spoke.
“As you are aware, the King has issued a second Edict which allows us to take up arms to defend ourselves. You see us before you.” Zephenesh gestured to the ranks behind him. “If you are unwilling to renounce your Regency claim to the crown of Emrilion, or to reconsider the tyrannical Edict against the Laowyn of the Kingdom, are we not done here?”
Garesh’s thin lips quivered, baring fangs like a dog. He jerked his head once towards the fat man next to him, who immediately pulled out a scroll and unravelled it. The only other sound was the whipping of the Reluwyn banner in the wind picking up from the sea.
“The Laowyn Edict,” came the squeaky voice of the terrified courtier. “Was presented to your people four months ago. It proclaimed a command for the people of Emrilion to rise up against the rebellious Laowyn and destroy them for the protection of the whole Kingdom of Emrilion. The gathering in the old capital of Ishalia… talia,” he corrected himself, darting fearful eyes at Garesh, “is seen as the final rebellious act against the authority of the Reluwyn Empire. Our presence here is only in response to this continued rebellion.”
“Very well.” Zephenesh’s voice seemed dispirited. He looked to Ikara. “Commander?”
She nodded and turned her cold eyes on each one of the opposing party in turn. “In response to the legalisation of the slaughter of the Laowyn, and your rebellion against our rightful ruler,” she couldn’t believe she meant the words. “We have no choice but to meet you in the battle you seek. If we die,” her voice was rising, the call going out from the small party to the edges of the defenders ranks. “We die at the calling of the Great Spirit in freedom!”
A great roar went up from the defender’s ranks. The Reluwyn defenders clanged curved scimitars against their shields, the Laowyn stamped their feet in the mud until a rumble ran throughout the ranks.
“So be it!” growled Garesh, turning his horse on its haunches and casting one last malevolent look at Trevisian. His party followed after him.
The Edict (The She Trilogy Book 1) Page 27
