Phillip covered his nose and mouth with his hand. He didn’t look out across the battlefield for long, and he gagged as his face went a bit pale. He wasn’t used to these things. He’d never seen death like this.
Until recently, I hadn’t either. Now I was beginning to learn that this sight—endless burning fields of death and despair—was what the Tibrans always left in their wake. And if they had their way, all Maldobar would be this way.
I couldn’t allow that to happen.
TWO
“You’re suggesting that we just leave you behind?” Aubren had gone stiff. Sitting across from me at the dinner table, I could see an angry little vein standing out against his forehead.
“I’m suggesting that the only chance the citizens who still remained in the city have of safely making it to the mountain passes is if the dragonriders hold the Tibrans back and then destroy the tunnels on this end, so they cannot pursue you,” I replied. “That includes me.”
My brother’s mouth scrunched up and his nose wrinkled. “I won’t do that. I won’t just run away while you and your men stay here and—”
“This is what we are meant for, Aubren,” I snapped. “And we will do our job with pride. It is an honor to die protecting the people of Maldobar.”
Phillip interrupted. “Guys, please, let’s take this down a notch. I’ve known you both long enough to know that your arguing will never solve anything. You’re like two angry cats in a bag.” He cleared his throat and took a moment to rub his hand across his forehead. “Based on what we saw today, I think Jenna and I can agree that a good number of Barrowton’s citizens have taken my advice and are already either evacuating or taking refuge in the catacombs under the city. I’ll issue a decree in the morning warning those who remain to be ready to fall back behind the third wall at the sound of the warning horns. We’ll save as many as we can. But should the third wall fall, this keep will be the only safe place left. We’ll have to evacuate as well.”
I poked nervously at the prongs on my fork. “The dragonriders and I will hold the Tibrans off for as long as we can,” I promised.
“You’re sure that’s the only way?” Phillip studied me carefully.
“Yes. I’ve been over the plans a hundred times. It’s the only way to be sure the Tibrans can’t follow you. You’ll be able to make it to the mountains.”
Aubren slammed a fist down on the table, rattling the china. “I will not go without you, Jenna. What will I tell our father?”
“Tell him that if he’d spared even a dozen of the riders guarding Halfax, maybe we would have stood a chance.” The words tasted bitter on my lips, and I couldn’t keep my voice from sounding punishing.
It was too much. I didn’t like having them both staring me down that way. Without ever touching the food on my plate, I stood up and left the dining hall.
I waited until I was behind the closed doors of my private chambers to let out a ragged breath. It was almost impossible to keep the emotions from surfacing. All the uncertainty, the fear, the dread, and the burning resentment of my father—all of it ate away at my insides. I didn’t understand how he could just stand by and allow the Tibrans to burn city after city without sending any of his forces to help us. He had almost every dragonrider in Maldobar guarding Halfax, the royal city. Meanwhile, his people burned. Soon, his children would burn, too.
My face flushed, and my hands were sweaty. I was terrified. I leaned against the door for a moment until I could catch my breath. Breathe—I just had to breathe.
Wandering farther into the room Phillip had lent me, I rang for a servant to draw a bath. I waited until the servant had finished adding in scented salts and oils and departed before I undressed, though. I wasn’t fond of this part. To me, it seemed most women were proud of their bodies. It was their social weapon, something they could use to manipulate and coerce.
My body wasn’t like that. At least, not anymore. Perhaps it could have been, but I’d chosen a different path—a path riddled with scars.
I tried not to look at my reflection in the mirror on the wall as I closed the bathroom door and began to undress. I unlaced the sides of my leather jerkin and pulled it over my head, slipped out of my tunic, and stepped out of my boots and pants. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the edge of the jagged, gnarled, freshly-made scar that zigzagged down the curve of my back. It went from the back of my shoulder all the way down to my hips. Gruesome hardly did it justice. Just the sight of it made my heart wrench. No man—not even Phillip—would be able to look at that without cringing. It wasn’t beautiful.
Pair it with the rest of me, which was flecked with nicks, cuts, and scrapes, and you weren’t left with someone whose body would be alluring to most men. Not the noble, wife-seeking sort, anyway. My face and neck were protected well by my armor, so they were still mostly unmarked. But my hands weren’t soft or slender. They’d been hardened by the hilt of a blade, and I knew I could trust their strength, even if I couldn’t trust anything else.
Sinking into the fragrant, steaming waters of the bath, I sat back to let the warmth relax my muscles. It took a long time to wash and detangle my hair. Despite having chosen what was deemed in my kingdom as a “man’s profession,” I still preferred to keep it long. Just because I’d elected to wear a dragonrider’s gauntlets instead of lace gloves didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy some more feminine habits—fixing my hair being one of them.
Suddenly, someone was knocking on the bathroom door.
I jerked upright and grabbed the closest towel to cover myself. “Who’s there?”
“Jenna?” Phillip’s voice was muffled by the door.
I deflated. “Go away!”
“Are you all right?”
“I was until you interrupted,” I yelled back.
“Maybe I should just come in and make sure … ”
“Gods and Fates, Phillip, if you open that door, I swear I will break your neck.”
He was quiet for a moment, and I braced myself in case he really was that stupid.
“Seriously, though.” His voice had become quieter. “Are you all right?”
I swallowed hard against the thick knot of emotion in my throat. “I’m fine.” My voice cracked a bit.
“Really? ’Cause that would be truly astounding if it were true. No one else here is fine right now, Jenna. We’re all staring death in the face.”
Slowly, I put the towel down and sank back into the tub. I let the hot water rise all the way to my chin. “You don’t understand because you’re not a soldier. I’m a dragonrider. I can’t be afraid of death.”
He chuckled. “You’re also human. Anyone with a pulse would be afraid—soldier or not.”
I watched some of my golden hair swirl in the water around me. For a brief, fleeting moment of pure insanity, I entertained the idea of letting him come in.
What? Was I losing my mind?
“I just don’t want you to think you have to do this alone,” Phillip said. “I may not be a soldier, but I hope you know I’m your friend. I’m here if you want to, you know, talk.”
I laughed out loud. I couldn’t help it. “Are you asking me to have a real, adult conversation about feelings with you? I’m not sure you’re qualified for that.”
“You know I do mean it, right?” His tone was suddenly serious. I didn’t like it.
“What?”
“I really do love you, Jenna.”
Suddenly, the atmosphere was intensely awkward. It made me wince, and I was thankful he couldn’t see it. Why did he always say things like that? What was I supposed to say? I … he … argh!
“Go away, Phillip.” My tone lacked the authority and determination I’d been hoping for.
A few more uncomfortable seconds passed. Then, at last, I heard him mutter softly as his footsteps retreated from the door. “As you wish.”
The silence that came after wasn’t as comforting as it had been before.
A sound woke me in th
e dark. It was the eerie, high-pitched wailing warning sirens.
Panic shot through my body.
I bolted upright in bed and ran to the window, throwing back the heavy drapes to stare into the horror of the night. From where the keep stood high upon the crest of that cone-shaped hill, I could see down across the city, beyond the walls. They were here.
The Tibrans had returned.
I could see them approaching like an encroaching ocean of blazing torches. They were coming at us from every side, stepping over the ashes of our dead. I could hear the pulse of their war drums. My heartbeat raced in that same frantic rhythm.
I took a deep breath.
It took me three minutes to dress for battle. I’d done it so many times now I could manage it without having to concentrate. As I tied my hair up into a ponytail, I took a few fleeting seconds to stare at my reflection. There were dusky circles under my eyes. I’d lost weight because of the stress, so my cheeks looked sharper. Somehow, it made me look vulnerable despite the dragonrider armor I had buckled against my body.
I scowled, grabbed an untouched pot of lip rouge from the vanity, and drew war lines under my eyes, on my chin, and across my forehead.
Snatching my royal blue cloak off the bedpost, I slung it around my shoulders so that the fur collar was pulled around my neck. I buckled my favorite weapons—a pair of short leaf-shaped blades that Kiran had taught me to use when I was a child—around my hips and grabbed my helmet.
My three remaining dragonrider companions waited for me, already outfitted and ready to go, right outside my bedroom door. Well, most of them. Lieutenant Eirik Lachlan was still buckling his sword belt and yawning. Eirik had been my friend ever since we’d begun our training as fledgling dragonriders together. We were the same age, and he had taken a liking to me after I’d dislocated his shoulder during our first sparring match.
He was brawny, sturdy, and came from a long line of proud dragonriders. I enjoyed his crude, brutal honesty almost as much as he enjoyed ale. He had softer, almost boyish, features, which the tavern girls and barmaids seemed to appreciate rather enthusiastically. His brown hair was cut somewhat short on the sides, but a bit longer on top so that he could style it just so. And while he insisted it was meant to make his helmet fit more comfortably—we all knew otherwise. He took a little too much time at the mirror, combing it and arranging it just so for that style to be strictly utilitarian.
Eirik was the wing end to a man everyone called Haldor, although I’d heard rumors that wasn’t his real name. It didn’t matter much to us what he called himself—he was a brilliant archer and could speak three or four languages. He’d graduated from the dragonrider academy a class ahead of ours, and while I’d never dared say a word about it, I found him handsome.
His skin was a much darker shade of olive brown than I was used to seeing because his mother had come from one of the eastern desert kingdoms. The gray elves had the same sort of warm golden hue to their complexion, although not quite so dark as his. Haldor’s hair was as fine as silk, jet black, and his eyes were a peculiar light amber brown that almost seemed gold in the right light.
His deep voice rang with a faint touch of the same accent I’d heard from his mother once. She’d dazzled the court at one of the officer’s balls, dressed in a brightly-colored gown that fit to the curves of her body like a silk glove. It reminded me a bit of how the gray elves dressed, with such vivid colors and exposed skin, but Haldor’s mother had also adorned her eyes, cheeks, and hands in detailed designs drawn with black kohl. There were tiny gemstones glued along the arches of her brows, across her forehead, and on each finger. It kept the men of court thoroughly distracted throughout the night—which seemed to embarrass Haldor. He got ribbed about it in the barracks for months.
The last of our group was Calem. He had been my wing end for some time now, and while he was the youngest and rarely said a word, he was perhaps the most brutal fighter among us. I’d never seen anyone best him in sparring. He had a deceptively pretty, almost angelic face—which I’d heard had caused him to be the victim of relentless teasing when he’d been a student at the academy. He was lean in build and his straight hair was the color of corn silk. I’d honestly have never seen him smile once, but he seemed set on staying at my side as long as I allowed him to—which I didn’t mind, considering how well he fought and flew. He tended to lurk at my back like a tall, silent specter and rarely said a word unless someone asked him a direct question.
We were an odd bunch of misfits. I suppose when they had decided to join me in exile, rather than staying behind in Halfax with the rest of the dragonriders to defend the city, my father probably hadn’t considered it much of a loss. But I trusted every one of these men with my life, and I knew they held me in the same regard. They didn’t care that I was a woman, or a princess, or anything other than a capable dragonrider.
As I stepped out of my chambers and closed the door, I glanced at their faces. We’d already lost one of our company in the last battle. No one had spoken about him yet. We would, eventually, drink to his honor. Not yet, though. There was still work to be done.
“So? Everyone ready to die?” Eirik chuckled hoarsely. He was finally finished getting dressed.
Haldor rolled his eyes.
Calem just stood there, staring into the distance like he was lost in his own private world of thought. It was terrifying how he could go from doing that to cutting someone’s head off in about two seconds.
I smirked back at them. My whole body relaxed, and all my apprehensions dissolved. Just knowing they were there, watching my back and fighting by my side, gave me all the confidence I needed.
I stuck my helmet under my arm and turned to lead the way, striding down the halls of the keep. “Absolutely. Let’s go kill some Tibrans.”
THREE
We split off once we reached the lowest level of the keep, where our dragons were housed right next to the launching contraption that would fire us, one by one, into the air like a giant slingshot. I’d balked at the idea when I’d first seen the launcher. I didn’t like the idea of my dragon and me being hurled into the air like a stone from a slingshot. Once I saw the machine in action, though, I had to admit that it was effective. It had the added benefit of catching our enemy off guard.
Well, last time, anyway. Now they’d likely be expecting it.
Phevos raised his head as I came into his stall and he greeted me with anxious chirping. I watched my dragon unfurl himself from the far corner where he’d been crouched, most likely waiting for me to appear. Even down in the bunker beneath the keep, you could hear the warning sirens wailing outside and the distant sound of catapults firing. Battle sounds weren’t unfamiliar for either of us. He knew I would be coming.
I rubbed the plated scales on his head as I walked around to check his saddle. I went over every buckle and strap quickly, making sure nothing had been damaged or knocked out of place. Normally, I didn’t leave him in it any longer than necessary. At eighteen years old, he was a young dragon, and the weight of it still made him anxious. But I hadn’t bothered removing it after the last battle because I’d known full well we would be riding back into combat very soon.
“Hello, handsome,” I crooned as he pushed his big purple snout against my side. His strong, scaly body was a gorgeous, deep eggplant purple color dappled with vivid, teal-green stripes. The large black horns on his head were curved like those on a ram, and he had smaller jagged black spines running down his spine all the way to the tip of his tail. The leathery membranes of his wings were nearly black as well, and there was more of that vibrant teal color flecking his legs, as though he’d accidentally stepped in paint. He had big, intelligent, golden eyes that tracked me constantly as I moved around him, buckling my bag crammed full of emergency supplies into place on the back of his saddle.
Phevos snorted in agreement, blasting my face with moist, smelly dragon breath as he tried licking my cheek. I smiled and grabbed a hold of one of
his ears, giving it a playful tug. “Such a big, beautiful boy. What did I ever do to deserve you, hmm?
“Phillip would be jealous.”
I glared over my shoulder to see my older brother, Aubren, standing in the doorway of my stall. Quickly, I turned my back, so he wouldn’t see me blushing with embarrassment. “Phillip is a moron.”
“I won’t disagree with you there,” he replied. His tone carried a heavy tension, as though there was something else he’d come here to say—something much more serious.
“Come to beg me to stay behind?” I muttered as I fidgeted with my saddle straps.
Suddenly, a warm hand fell over mine and held it tightly against the side of my dragon. Aubren was standing right beside me, his presence far more invasive than ever before. It wasn’t like him to be so aggressive. Something really was wrong.
“Jenna, please be careful,” he said quietly, his tone strange.
I froze, waiting for him to continue.
“I won’t ask you not to go. I know you believe you must. But please, Jenna, please don’t let this be the last time I see you. Sometimes it feels like you’re all the family I have left in the world.”
My stomach twisted into knots. I stared at his hand, much larger and broader than mine. I bit down hard because, honestly, I felt the same way. Our mother had passed away while laboring to birth a stillborn child. After, our father had grown distant. Even Kiran had left us by then. So Aubren and I had been forced to cling to one another. We didn’t have anyone else.
His hand slipped away from mine. I felt his presence retreat.
When I dared to turn around, I found him hesitating in the doorway of the stall, his broad back to me and his head bowed slightly like he might be looking down at the tops of his boots. “I’m not evacuating,” he said quietly.
I swallowed hard.
“I’m the only one fit to lead the infantrymen who will be defending this city. So, I intend to stay with them for as long as possible. As long as I’m alive, I will see to it that every last man, woman, and child has an opportunity to evacuate into the mountain passes.”
Harbinger Page 2
