Hope

by Sam Rook

  Kathryn had already gone over them dozens of times, memorizing them months ago. Still unsure which spells could turn the tide of the battle, she strapped on her newly cleaned sword, placed her helmet upon her head, and headed toward the throne room. She met Sir Garrent on the way and they walked together in distracted silence. They would be discussing a strategy to keep all of them from dying. No pressure.

  They were some of the first to arrive. Lord Alextor sat at the table while Sir Lanclor concentrated on the map. Derrek and Hook arrived shortly thereafter, accompanied by Hal. Hal stood next to Hook, seeming just as surprised to see Kathryn, as she was to see him.

  The room began to fill, so Hal and she had no opportunity to talk. She only recognized some of the knights from mounted warfare practice. The rest of the knights were from R’kelo. They were only familiar because she had seen them before in her Last Battle Sight. Just looking at them gave her chills.

  "If everyone will gather around, I’d like to begin so we can try to have a few hours of sleep before the battle tomorrow." Lord Alextor rose from his chair, gesturing for everyone to join him at the table around the map. "The way I see it, our best approach is from the valley around Hopent. This will be the most heavily guarded, but it’ll take too long to try to find a pass through those mountains other than the wooded pass south of Southker. That pass is just too sheltered with trees and an ambush would be likely. If we had thirty more squads, I would say to bring our winged squads over the mountains to flank them, but with our limited numbers, I think our only chance is to have the winged squads cover the mounted ones. Do you all agree?"

  They all studied the map, but Hook was the first to voice his agreement with Lord Alextor. "The wind can be awful in those mountains. It could be too much, blowing a winged squad off course and throwing them right in the middle of the Daemons instead of flanking them. A direct assault is our only choice."

  "Derrek will be leading a squad of Browns and Grays, so I want him in the front to handle the initial aerial assault." Lord Alextor pointed to the southernmost village. "Lanclor will lead the mounted assault doing whatever it takes to secure the bridge at Hopent. Once the bridge is secure and Lanclor’s squads are on the south side of the bridge, Hook’s winged squad of Browns will defend the north side until all of the mounted units are across."

  Lord Alextor looked around, meeting everyone’s eye in turn. He focused on Hal. "Hal, I want your squad of browns to cover Lanclor. He’ll be in the thick of the Daemons at that point. He’ll have enough Grays on the ground to assist you in the air if the need arises. At that point, I want Garrent’s and Kathryn’s Grays to attack in force, giving the rest of us time to re-group. Does anyone else have anything to add?"

  Hook stepped forward, leaning over the map. "Should we bring all of the mounted squads up at the same time? Would it be better to hold some in reserve?" Hook asked, pointing to the map as he spoke.

  "I thought about that, but I think they would be useless if anything were to happen to the bridge. We need to get all of them on the other side of the river if we’re going to overpower the Daemons." Lord Alextor pointed to the only bridge across the river and their only means of escape with the horses.

  Sir Lanclor shook his head. "Agreed, but I think we should have a squad of Grays covering the bridge while we’re crossing just in case. That way, if there is any unforeseen trouble, we have some magic to back us up. I think Garrent’s squad should do this, and then we’ll have Lady Kathryn’s squad come in and attack in force. Lady Kathryn has enough power to cause a distraction, allowing us to re-group. Garrent’s squad would be of more use in the initial assault and defending the bridge."

  "Hmm, you’re right. Can anyone else add to that?" Lord Alextor looked around, welcoming any comments. When no one responded, he continued. "Now, we’ll have a total of eight mounted squads and seven winged. There will be Grays intermixed throughout all of the mounted squads and five of the winged squads, with two pure Gray squads led by Garrent and Kathryn. That’ll give us enough magic to cover the Browns on the ground and in the sky. If we can tire the Daemons enough to stay on the ground, then the agility of the mounted knights will be our advantage. I think everything else is up to the Goddess. Be safe everyone and I’ll see you in the morning."

  Lord Alextor was stuck with the job of destroying the portal if things went terribly wrong. He was also one of the few people who could speak the language of the Lir'Kelah well enough to negotiate with them in case they needed to take refuge to the north. While this role frustrated him, he had no choice since he was the leader of the Knighthood. People depended upon him to protect them and sometimes that meant remaining behind.

  A knock sounded upon her door and Kathryn opened it to reveal Mikael and a young girl with a missing hand. Kathryn stood frozen, unable to take her eyes off the girl. She had her father's blue eyes and her grandmother's mousy hair.

  Mikael hesitated, and then said, "This is Jenna. Is something wrong Lady Kathryn? I know we weren’t supposed to visit Dargo for another two days..."

  "Mom?"

  Kathryn sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around Rachel’s sobbing frame. Tears flowed from Kathryn’s eyes and she clung to her daughter with the intent never let her go. She remembered the closed casket, holding nothing but her daughter’s severed hand. The police searched the river for five days for the rest of her body, and then gave up. She always felt cheated only to bury a part of her daughter.

  "Rachel, how did you get here?" Kathryn whispered in horrified relief.

  Rachel cried and couldn’t answer between her gasping breaths.

  "I found her in the middle of a Daemon battle." Mikael spoke up. "She stood shivering next to my wife’s body and I took her in. I never knew her real name. She didn’t talk for over a month, so I just called her Jenna...the name we had intended for our daughter."

  Kathryn sat back on her heels, rocking Rachel back and forth.

  Dargo, sensing their mood, joined in the reunion and his terrible breath made Rachel groan in disgust. "Dargo, that’s disgusting."

  Dargo beat Mikael with his tail and Kathryn smiled up at the Royal Guardsman. "You’ve taken good care of her."

  Mikael gave her a sad smile. "We’ll work on packing her things so she can move into the castle with you. I no longer have the right to claim her."

  The plans for the Final Battle rushed back into the forefront of her mind. "I don’t know if that’s such a good idea right now."

  Rachel broke the embrace. "What do you mean, mom? I can stay with you now, right?" Her panicked eyes raced between Mikael and Kathryn.

  "Rachel, I need to speak with Mikael for a moment. Can you take Dargo over to the bed and get him to settle down?" She gestured to Dargo who was staggering between Mikael and Rachel with occasional glances to Kathryn.

  "Sure. C’mon Dargo." She ran to the bed and Dargo joined her on Kathryn’s pillow.

  "Don’t get comfortable, Dargo." Kathryn sighed, and then turned to Mikael. "Have you spoken to Sir Lanclor or Lord Alextor?"

  Mikael shook his head. "No. I had patrol last night, so came straight here when I woke up to your summons."

  "We’re attacking the Daemons in force tomorrow. They’re massing in a valley just south of where Southker village used to be. A group of knights will stay behind if the castle needs to be evacuated and the plan is to move everyone north if things go sour. I’m part of the group heading south." Kathryn glanced at Rachel with dread. "I only just found her, Mikael. I need to know that she has you if I can’t make it back." She returned her gaze to Mikael’s troubled eyes.

  "Regardless of blood, Rachel will always be my daughter. I’ll keep her with me until you return."

  She lowered her voice. "Mikael, I’m not so sure I will return. I need your promise that you’ll take her north if we lose the battle."

  "You have my word, Lady Kathryn." He placed his hand upon her shoulder and Kathryn fought the tears already flowing from her eyes. "I’m on duty soon and have to br
ing her home in an hour. I’ll leave you two alone to discuss it."

  "Thanks Mikael, for everything."

  "You’re welcome. Jenna—Rachel, I’ll be back in an hour."

  "Okay, Mikael." Rachel waved while petting Dargo’s neck.

  Alone with Rachel, Kathryn sat on the bed and placed her hand on Rachel’s hair. She used to stroke her hair often, using any opportunity to show her daughter affection, and now was no different.

  "Mom, what happened to Grandma and Uncle Donny?" Rachel whispered, not taking her eyes off Dargo.

  "Oh, honey. Grandma died in the car accident. Uncle Donny got hurt."

  Rachel nodded, the only sign of her distress an occasional sniffle. "Did that happen because of me?"

  "Oh no. No, no, no. It wasn’t your fault." She pulled Rachel to her chest, trying to drown out the memory of Donny’s claim that something tried to attack his car before he crashed into the river. Kathryn always thought it was Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from the war, but she now realized she wasn’t the only victim of the black void.

  "Rachel, I need you to stay with Mikael for now."

  "What? Why can’t I stay with you?" Rachel mumbled into her shirt.

  "I’m a knight. We have a big battle tomorrow and I won’t be around to watch you. All of your stuff is at Mikael’s anyway. I’ll have to talk to Lord Alextor and see if I can get a nicer place with an extra bedroom so you can have your own bed."

  "Mom, I’m not stupid or deaf. I know you’re not sure if you’re coming back." Rachel pulled away and gave her a serious look. "I’m big enough now to know it’s best if I stay with Mikael. I’ve been with him since I’ve been here and he’s more of a father than dad ever was. I’ll be okay."

  Kathryn pulled her close and cried over missing the innocent years of her daughter’s life. She ached at losing Rachel again, but knowing her daughter lived made it bearable. "I love you, Rachel."

  "I love you too, mom."

  Kathryn wandered the quiet halls to try to clear her head. She walked past the windows overlooking the darkening sky of the courtyard and stepped into the library. A single light globe illuminated the table in the far right corner. She saw his silhouette and paused just past the doorway. His elbow propped his helmeted head upon the table above a thick book.

  Without warning, he stood and threw the book across the room, then crossed his arms and stared at the light globe. She saw anger in the stance of his wings and feared she had upset him with her presence, but he didn't appear to see her past the globe's light.

  Without her armor or helmet, she made her silent way toward him. As her white wings made her visible, Sir Lanclor looked her way with his hand reaching toward his sword.

  "Lady Kathryn. I didn't hear you come in." His hand relaxed. His voice held an undercurrent of sadness.

  "Indeed." Kathryn walked over to pick up the thrown book. She felt Sir Lanclor’s eyes upon her as she bent over. When she turned back, he met her eyes then turned and sat back down at the table. Dragging a chair beside him, she set the book back upon the table and sat down, intentionally spreading her wings in such a way so that they brushed his. He made no move to break the contact.

  "We don’t have any more time to find the answer." Sir Lanclor placed his elbows upon the table, clenched his hands together and leaned his head against them. "I’m going to die tomorrow."

  Kathryn didn’t know what to say. She’d had the Sight so many times that she couldn’t comfort him with a false denial. If they had more time, maybe she could throw out ideas on how to avert the disaster. She reached over and placed her hand upon his armored bicep. Unsure what to say, she remained silent.

  Sir Lanclor looked down at her hand and covered it with his right for a brief moment before clearing his throat and rising to his feet. He grabbed the book and disappeared into the shadows of the shelves in the back of the library.

  Kathryn jumped to her feet and followed him into the darkness, pausing just long enough to let her eyes adjust to the faint light. She saw his darker form and continued ahead, trapping him between the wall and two bookshelves on either side. Turning, he looked her way and froze.

  Spreading her wings to block his escape, she stopped a foot in front of him. Not wanting to strain her neck, she felt around for the familiar stool with her foot. She pulled it over and stepped up to his eye level.

  "What is this about, Lady Kathryn?" Sir Lanclor put his hands upon his hips and stood with his wings extended, similar to a small animal trying to make itself larger when faced with a predator.

  "I’m not going to let you die, Matthis."

  Sir Lanclor took a step backward and bumped against the wall. He turned to look behind him and spread his arms for balance. "Why did you call me that?"

  "Because it's your name. I know who you are. A’lath." She released the spell and a small light glowed above them emitting just enough light to allow them to see each other.

  "Matthis doesn’t exist anymore." He made no move to leave, so Kathryn stepped back off the stool and pushed it closer to him.

  She stepped back onto the stool and was close enough to feel his breath against her lips. "He existed during the Ball."

  "That was a mistake." His wings drooped and he attempted to move to her left.

  Her arm shot out and halted his progress.

  "Let it go, Lady Kathryn." He settled back into his former position.

  Kathryn reached underneath his helmet with both hands and he gripped her wrists.

  "Just turn around and walk away." His grip was firm, yet gentle.

  She glared at him, willing herself not to cry. He released her and offered no resistance while she unbuckled his helmet and pulled it over his head. Dropping the helmet to the floor, she looked upon a different version of the man she’d met earlier in the year.

  With dark circles beneath his eyes and stubble adorning his chin, he regarded her with weary eyes. "What is the purpose of this?" His words drew her eyes to his lips.

  Leaning forward, she brushed his lips with hers. His posture stiffened, then relaxed. The kiss was tentative at first, intensifying as he slid his arms around her. His stubble hurt her face, but she ignored the pain.

  Her tongue caressed his and she felt him shudder and tighten his hold on her. His armor dug into her and only then did she pull away and return his look. She saw the desire and joy in his eyes and his gradual dampening of both.

  "Why are you doing this, Lady Kathryn? You don't want a relationship with me." Bitterness laced his words.

  "Why does everyone keep telling me what I want? I'm old enough to make my own decisions and those decisions are not based upon the opinions of others. If you don't want me, then that's one thing..." Kathryn held her breath.

  A brief moment of indecision flashed within his eyes and he looked away. He clenched his jaw and returned her look. "I could lie and tell you I didn't, but you know me better than that. I just don't want you to get hurt. People can be cruel."

  She released her breath, closing her eyes in relief. It was short-lived. "So, the only reason for us not to be together is to please other people?" Kathryn felt her eyes start to water and looked away. Her entire life had been spent worrying about what other people thought. She pursed her lips and gave him an angry look. "I can't accept that."

  He returned her look and tightened his grip on her. "Neither can I." Leaning forward, he kissed her with such passion the stool started to tip.

  She threw her arms around his neck for balance and he lifted her off the stool. His armor dug into her arms and ribs. Pulling away from his lips, she grimaced in pain.

  "I'm sorry. I forgot I was armored." He put her down upon the stool and pulled away. "Thal'salin sar." His armor disappeared and he now wore a loose fitting white shirt and blue pants. Barefoot, he was now an inch shorter, but still taller than she, even with her upon the stool. Stepping back toward her, he wrapped his arms around her lower back and pulled her body against his. Growling with pleasure, he gave her a mischievous sm
ile. "That's much better."

  Heat radiated through his shirt against her breasts. Such a startling change from the cold armor, she felt herself shiver with delight. Lacing her fingers around his neck and through his hair, she pulled his mouth toward hers and he returned her eager kiss. She felt his hands caress her buttocks and he lifted her off the stool and held her against him.

  Sir Lanclor's pants didn't provide the same protection as his armor and she felt his familiar arousal. Spreading her legs, she wrapped them around him letting him feel her heat as well. She opened her eyes and found him looking into hers with such intensity; she knew she wouldn't leave the library until they were both satisfied.

  Pulling away from her kiss, Sir Lanclor gave her an evil smile. "Thal'salin sar."

  Kathryn felt a draft and looked down to see they were both naked from the waist down. He eased himself into her and she moaned at the unexpected pleasure. Accustomed to the missionary position, Kathryn felt awkward, but soon matched his rhythm. She threw her head back unable to catch her breath amidst his kissing.

  His stubble scraped against her as he kissed her neck, his breath coming in short bursts. The excitement of someone catching them in the library heightened the pleasure. When they climaxed, their moans echoed beyond the bookshelves. Their rhythm slowed and Kathryn lowered her head, pressing her cheek against his.

  Panting, Sir Lanclor held her against him and she felt him pulsing inside her. His sweat mixed with his familiar smell of pine and cinnamon—the Crakentor tree logs he moved on the practice field. Kathryn's legs started to shake with the strain of wrapping them around him. He lifted her off him and set her down upon the stool. She gripped his shoulders for balance, giving him an embarrassed smile.

  "Lady Kathryn, are you in here?" Hal's voice echoed from the doorway.

  Kathryn almost fell from the stool in a panicked search for her clothes.

  "Thal'salin sar." Sir Lanclor mumbled and their clothes appeared on the floor in front of them and two towels emerged in his hand. "Here," he said, handing her a towel, "clean up and get dressed. It'll take him a while to search this far back." He turned his back to her.