Order of the Regent

by Jasmine Walt

  “And who are we without a clever way of looking at things, without intelligence, without a mind? Marrok, you guide us intelligently and compassionately, and are constantly soothing our angry, frustrated souls, guiding us with your gentle light and love, leading us on the right path. When we would act hotheaded and leap into places where we should not be, you keep us steady.”

  Marrok bowed at Lorelai’s words. “My queen, you do me great honor.”

  Bruno stood, his head cocked to the side, his eyebrows drawn together.

  “Bruno is the heart.” Andre said the words they were all thinking.

  Marrok nodded. “There is no other way around it.”

  Reyn laughed. “He’s always had my heart.”

  Taron nodded in agreement. “He has always had all our hearts.”

  “Bruno holds our hearts still, steady, and strong,” Lorelai said. “He keeps us unified and beating with courage, strength, and grace we would not have were it not for him. He reminds us that when we are bogged down in strategy and worry, sometimes we just need to follow our instincts and move forward…that sometimes we must lead with our hearts. Without Bruno, we would be dead.”

  Bruno’s eyes shone. “We are as a single entity,” he said. “It is as if we are one.”

  Lorelai smiled with her heart. “Indeed.”

  “And you, dear lady,” Taron said, “are the energy binding us together.”

  Lorelai bowed her head slightly and acquiesced, letting them see the glisten of her tears.

  “None of us can live without the other,” Lorelai said. “I cannot live without any of you. Each gives strength and support and love in ways I need. Yes, I am with Bruno and he has given me a gift of magic, which allows me to see things I did not even know existed. But now I can see each of you and I understand your great beings. I understand how much you also love me. Regardless of what seems to come between us, there is no bond greater than love and no magic more powerful. You asked me how I was when I first arrived.” Her gaze went to Bruno. “I am well. I have gathered strength from each of you as we have traveled here. Though I’m not fit to fight in the battle itself, I will be here for you in spirit as you battle against the desert dwellers of Sec Salete. I am telling you: you must fight as a single entity, as a unified fighting machine, if you wish to make any stand against the desert dwellers. Do you understand my words?”

  “Not only do we understand your words,” Marrok said, “but we will obey and recognize them as the strength and power of who you are and how you hold us together. You have brought us back to ourselves.”

  All the knights kissed their rings, pressing them to their foreheads as they knelt before Queen Lorelai and presented their swords to her.

  “We will fight for you.”

  26

  Bruno stared at the map Lady des Barres laid out. The early scouts had provided details of where the desert dwellers had made ground and were amassing their troops.

  “There are ten flanks.” Marrok placed the wooden pieces depicting the men across the field to give everyone a clear sight of what they were facing. The desert dwellers were plain brown wooden pieces.

  A type of pine, Bruno thought as he turned one over in his hand. The united forces of the Western Region who would be facing the desert dwellers were a red mahogany wood. Bruno hoped the color did not signify the blood they would shed on the field today. He looked at his brothers, the others of the Order of the Regent. He was glad he was here. There was nowhere else he would rather be than wherever they were. With the four of them was his place. They were a unified team, constantly facing the enemy together, live or die.

  And after the queen, after Lorelai, had said those words, it was clear it was the six of them. No matter what, it would be the six of them moving forward in life, whatever it would look like. But standing where they were now, it didn’t look very pleasant. They were out-numbered ten to one on the battlefield. The desert dwellers had come en masse. Without the support of the rest of Valliere, the forces of the Western Region, well, they were kind of fucked. Never before had the warriors fought against such odds. Never before had they faced a situation where at least one of them had a good chance of not making it back. Bruno looked grimly down at the map. Not only did he have to focus on killing as many desert dwellers as he could, he would also need to focus on protecting his brothers in the Order.

  The only one who shouldn’t make it back was him.

  He looked to Lorelai. She was not safe here. Knowing she was so close to the battlefield, easily within the grip of the desert dwellers, added a layer of concern he had never faced during a fight. Before it had always been the five of them. Now it was about the five of them and the woman they loved. Even if she was a mage…and he might be one, too.

  Bruno swallowed at the thought.

  He was still getting used to it. Because he was raised in his mother’s house, mages had never been his favorite people. He might not hate them as much as his lady mother did, but they were still considered enemies of his house. Mages knew no family, no love, and primarily spent their time meddling in the affairs of others to gain power. If it wasn’t for the Grosse Obscurite, which they held back from Valliere, Bruno wasn’t sure what purpose they served.

  But now the woman he loved was one. A chill crawled up his spine. How would her magical powers twist and change her? Was it being removed to Barre du Corbeau and being in the service of Ayanne the Young that turned mages into such dark creatures? Or was it the magic itself, coursing through their veins, twisting them? Bruno pressed his massive fingers onto the red stone of the jewel on the hilt of his sword.

  He would never know. Bruno shook his head, letting the massive ripple move through his entire body. This was exactly the problem of having a love in your life. It distracted you from the battlefield.

  He had just missed the last piece of information. Now all the other knights stared at him.

  “Are you ready to fight today?” Taron asked.

  Bruno lowered his chin; his skin was clammy, and he felt weak, but he forced as fierce an expression as he could muster. “If we each put a coin on the heads of the desert dwellers we kill, at the end of the day I will be the poorest man, for I will have placed the most coins,” he said. “What is the plan of attack?” He placed the wooden piece in his fingers down and watched Marrok move it into position.

  Lorelai stood on the side, looking at the markers. Ever since she had woken as a mage, Bruno noticed something different about her. A glow in her eyes. When she looked around, it was as if she was seeing more than was truly there. Or maybe just more than others saw. She was still not quite steady on her feet and her hands gripped the side of the table, as did his. But the others weren’t paying attention to him, especially when she insisted on standing even though they told her numerous times to sit and rest. Lorelai was dead set on making sure she was a useful part of the team. It was one of the things he loved about her. Even though she was the queen, she never wanted to be dead weight. She wanted to do her duty.

  Now while the others talked, she concentrated on the board. She raised her hand, and though he saw nothing, he felt a slight shift in energy around the table. Nobody else seemed to notice. They were busy listening to Taron as he laid out a plan of attack to use the forces in the best way. But slowly and carefully, with a deep breath in through her nose and a double exhalation out of her abdomen, Lorelai waved her hand across the table, and to everyone’s surprise glowing lights flew up around the pieces representing the armies. All the knights except Bruno stepped back. He leaned in closer, peering at the glowing light emanating from the wooden pieces.

  “It’s beautiful,” Bruno said.

  Reyn reached out and waved a hand over a piece. “But what is it?”

  Lorelai focused on the markers, her face radiant and glowing as she concentrated on the wood.

  The different colors floated up from the board. They were gold and then diminishing to points of black and then areas of gold again.

  �
�Just a moment,” Lorelai said as she moved her hand again and her smile grew wider. “Everything is made up of the archaic energy. The first energy of the world. I am drawing forth the power from these beings into the wood to see what vigor they wield. It will identify their strength on the battlefield.”

  “So, gold would be strong.” Reyn grinned.

  “And the darker spots would be the weakest?” Taron asked.

  All the knights stepped forward and leaned in, as Bruno had done, to gain a better understanding of how the forces were aligning.

  “I am not sure,” Lorelai said, “but I think this is correct. When I place my hand here”—she raised her hand above a golden piece—“I feel the strength shooting forward. And when I move it to the darker pockets, there is a lack of strength and energy. So, I can only assume you are right.”

  “So, we want to focus our attacks on the dark areas,” Marrok said.

  “This is brilliant,” Reyn said.

  “But how are we going to find this out in the battle?” Bruno asked. “When everybody is moving and milling around? There is no way Lorelai is coming out to the field.”

  Lady des Barres looked thoughtful, her hand pressed against her chin. “I will leave runners here. What we are looking for is patches of weakness, so if she can identify where a flank is ready to fall, we can focus more of our energies there. We will keep her here and in safety, but we must use this intelligence to our advantage.”

  The others nodded in agreement.

  “This seems like a fair idea,” Taron said. “But now, we must join the battle.”

  Bruno still looked at the table. “This,” he said, pointing to a dark mahogany piece of wood at a distance from the field. “Is this us?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “What is the gray patch amongst us?” Andre pointed. Inside the center of the strong gold light, there was a dark gray patch within their own knights.

  Lorelai quickly waved a hand over the field, making sure all the lights disappeared. “Nothing,” the queen said. “Probably me because I am weak from the magic.”

  But Bruno knew better. From what he had seen on her face and by her hand, Lorelai had been made more powerful by the magic coursing freely through her veins. And he had noticed where Lorelai’s gaze had flickered when he had asked about the gray patch amongst them. It had gone straight to him.

  27

  Lorelai stood on the high ground of the battle, in the shade of the tent looking out across the field. Even though she had lived a long time in a warring country, she had never been so close to the battle. The back of the line was still a good half league from her, but there was no stopping the shouting, screams, and clanking of metal on metal filling the air.

  “Here, you will need this.” Devereaux’s gravelly voice disrupted her thoughts as his fingers tapped against her elbow and he placed a cup of tincture in her hand.

  She drank it mindlessly. Lorelai felt sick to her stomach, but she was not sure if it was the magic or if it was the death happening all around her and the imminent danger her knights were in.

  The Western Region’s warriors were fighting fiercely, but there were so many of the desert dwellers, it seemed impossible they would beat them. The allied forces held their own, but they were not making any headway, and wave after wave of dwellers still came. They landed in boats, climbed ashore, and headed for the battlefield. The Western Region forces were dwindling, and there seemed no end to the desert warriors.

  Lorelai stared at the map inside the tent and then back out to the field. She had not thought much about her own strength, but she knew it was waning. She had been using the light all morning. Now, whenever she waved her hand over the map it was slightly dimmer, a little muddier. She had stopped using it for a bit, hoping it would rekindle like a fire in the embers. But as she tried to help guide the battle, it became more difficult. The enemy troops were strong, and the griffin riders came hard and fast from above. They had not yet been able to make it past the archers to get to the encampment where Lorelai stayed, but she was afraid that at any moment one of the knights of the Order would come to her and tell her they would have to retreat. She would have to leave the battlefield to ensure her safety.

  The screaming beasts flew in a new wave against the warriors of the Western Region. The archers on the griffins’ backs fired off a steady wave of death from above, while the men on the ground were still embattled against the desert dwellers. The queen gasped as more of the green of Fado and the gold of Reyn’s people fell.

  Her stomach roiled.

  She took in two deep breaths, just as the sorciere had taught her. Lorelai could not surrender; she needed to maintain her strength. She had to suppress her illness regardless. Weakness was not allowed. The queen’s duty was to be there for her people, for her knights. The Order needed her more than they had ever needed her before.

  A shrieking cry erupted in the sky as a fierce new squadron of griffins attacked the flank. The beasts were magnificent and deadly. They were golden all over, from their long, vicious beaks, past their glowing eyes and feather-plumed heads, down to their whip-like tails and the sharp talons on their lion paws. Their enormous bodies were only dwarfed by their wingspan, which stretched out twice the length of their bodies. The desert dwellers had equipped them with saddles, but they wore no bridles. Instead, their riders seemed to control them with their knees. Or maybe magic, Lorelai thought. For the beasts seemed to be synergistically aligned with their riders. Dipping down to the fray when the rider had a sword in hand, or staying elevated when the rider was shooting arrows into the warriors. Some even dropped their riders off so they could engage and then would swoop back moments later, as if they understood the rider needed to be pulled out of the melee. And every chance the griffins got, they would attack a Vallierian with their talons or with their beaks, seemingly able to discern between their own people, the desert dwellers, and the allied forces of the Western Region.

  For Lorelai, it was horrifying. How was it possible to combat death from above?

  There was one, though, who was circling. High above the rest and riding a griffin that almost appeared to dwarf the others. Lorelai shaded her eyes to see it better. The rider on the beast made the griffin itself seem small. Like all desert dwellers he wore golden armor covered in an intricate pattern of symbols that no Vallierian had ever been able to decode. But there was one insignia Lorelai knew well. It was a three-quarter crescent with a full circle held in its grip and another inner circle carved out of the first. Lorelai gasped as she recognized it on the warrior’s armor. He was from the royal house of Sec Salete, one of the one hundred sons of Sec Tesaibeau, and no doubt this one was fighting for prominence to inherit the throne. His gold helmet was open in front and his gaze was piercing down at the battling warriors as intensely as his griffin’s.

  Lorelai peered at the battlefield, trying to determine what it was that the prince was after. She realized it at the same time the prince saw them.

  He was after the knights of the Order of the Regent. An earth-shattering cry went up as one of the flanks of the Western Region fell back and desert dwellers pushed through the line. Immediately, Western Region troops rushed from other flanks to fill the gap, but they were quickly surrounded.

  The knights of the Order twisted where they stood, each knowing instinctively what the other would do. They put their backs towards each other, forming a circle with their blades aimed outwards to stop any of the warriors who were trying to destroy them. But the five knights were so embroiled on the battlefield and precisely what was in front of them, the next blow to stave off, that none could look so far up to see the prince was targeting them.

  Lorelai took a step out of her tent, not sure what she was going to do but feeling like she had to do something. Someone had to warn the knights about the prince. But before she had gone two steps, the guards assigned to her safety stopped her, crossing swords across her path.

  “You cannot go on the field, Your Majesty,” one
said. “It would be suicide.”

  “But the prince!” she cried, pointing up. “He is targeting the Order of the Regent.”

  The guard looked up and saw the massive warrior on the giant griffin, but even in the brief moment it took them both to look up, the griffin had stopped circling, and with a shriek that ripped at Lorelai’s heart, it charged down to earth, talons out and the prince’s sword raised, ready to destroy anyone who stood in their way.

  “Bruno!” Lorelai screamed, but there was no way he could hear her over the noise of the battle.

  Taron must have sensed something in the air, though. He looked up and saw the prince aiming directly at them. He yelled out a command to the others, and they pivoted as one. With Marrok and Reyn now guarding their backs, Taron, Andre, and Bruno turned to face the charging desert dweller.

  Lorelai squinted. Bruno’s aura was still a dismal gray. His energy was low, and the desert dwellers on the ground who were still attacking seemed to have renewed vigor. Lorelai couldn’t tell if it was because they sensed Bruno was waning or if the prince charging in had fired them up to keep the knights distracted until he could massacre them from above.

  “Do something!” Lorelai screamed desperately at Devereaux.

  He looked at her sadly. “Warfare is not where my specialty lies,” he said. “But your emotions will heighten your powers. It is always that way with magic.”

  “We must retreat.” One of the guards stepped forward. “It is no longer safe here. We are preparing the horses.”

  “No!” Lorelai exclaimed.

  The knights were losing ground, their backs pressed against each other as the desert warriors’ sabers cut through the air, each one aimed at landing a mortal blow on the knights of the Order. The prince wasn’t about to take the knights from above. He jumped off his beast as it skimmed the top of the battle and took swipes at the fighting soldiers with its sharp talons.