The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy

by R. T. Kaelin

  Turning around, he had marched back to his room and remained there through the night, skipping eveningmeal. When morning arrived, he awoke, dressed warmly, and headed straight to the courtyard for drills, skipping morningmeal as well. He would have preferred staying in his room, but his new duties precluded him from doing that. A week ago, Commander Aiden had assigned twenty-five men to him and named him a corporal.

  Upon reaching the courtyard doors, he opened them and stopped in his tracks. The world had turned white, a thick mantle of snow covering the yard, topping the battlements, and blanketing the woodpiles and benches. As he stepped from the hallway, he sunk into the cold stuff, stunned to find that the snow reached his calves. He trudged toward the other soldiers already in the yard, amazed at how hard it was to walk in the white powder. The typical Storm Island wind blew hard, swirling about the courtyard, whipping up clouds of snow, and blowing it into his eyes.

  For the next two hours, the soldiers attempted to go through their progression of drills while slipping and sliding all over the yard. Steady footing was nigh impossible. While most of the men kept a good humor about the situation, Jak had not.

  When yet another pair of his men slipped, falling upon one another and then chuckling about it, Jak’s temper broke and he unleashed a long tirade of curses on his entire detachment. He only stopped his rant when he realized everyone in the courtyard was staring at him. Catching Commander Aiden’s disappointed stare, Jak shut his mouth. He knew he had let his bitterness get the better of him, but did not much care.

  For the past three weeks, on the direct orders of Lady Vivienne and Duchess Aleece, he had been acting as though Kenders was still somewhere within the enclave, holed up with Khin and Tobias, focusing on her studies. The sudden absence of Zecus, Joshmuel, and Boah had been explained away with a falsehood that the Borderlanders had requested to return home and the baroness had granted their wish.

  At first, people had accepted the lies. Yet when nobody had seen Kenders, Tobias, or Khin for over a week, rumors started. Jak tried to dissuade the gossip, but it was like trying to swim up a waterfall. Rather than face constant questioning, he retreated to his room whenever he was not performing his duties as a soldier and stewed over Kenders’ rashness. He had read the letter she had slipped under his door at least a dozen times now and grew angrier each time.

  Pulling his gloves from his hands and jamming them in his overcoat’s pocket, Jak turned down the hallway leading to the commons. If he hurried, he could grab something to eat before anyone else made it to the kitchens and then retreat to his room.

  “Corporal Isaac!”

  The shouted words came from behind and echoed in the empty hall. Jak pressed his lips together and let loose a soft curse.

  “Hells.”

  Halting in place, Jak took a deep breath, trying to let the acrimony bubbling within him to drain away. As the commander approached him, his boots clomping against the stone floor, Jak turned to face the head of the Shadow Mane soldiers.

  “Yes, Commander?”

  With a scowl on his face, the former Knight-Lieutenant of the Southern Arms strode down the long, torch-lit hallway and stopped before Jak. The old soldier stood quiet, hands fixed on his hips, and stared. After a few moments, he spoke in a firm, yet gentle tone.

  “You know, I heard the blacksmith is looking for an apprentice.”

  Jak blinked, confused.

  “Pardon, sir?”

  “I’d bet you’d make a fine smith. Your father was the best Claw ever had in the years I’ve been here. Shall I speak to Master Washor about securing you the position?”

  This was not the conversation Jak was expecting to have.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. Smithing?”

  Crossing his arms, Commander Aiden said, “Yes. I thought you might want to give it a try as it seems soldiering no longer holds your interest.”

  “That’s not true, sir. I—”

  “So you do want to be a soldier?”

  “Yes, sir. I do.”

  Commander Aiden leaned forward and, his voice turning colder than the Winter wind, he said, “Then start acting like it! Your behavior this morning was unacceptable! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

  Jak flinched and dropped his gaze. The words had an amazing effect on his anger, melting it away much as the warmer air of the hall was thawing the snow now dripping from his clothes and boots.

  “Ah,” muttered the commander. “So then you do feel bad?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you embarrassed?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Humiliated?”

  “Quite a lot, sir.”

  “Good,” said the commander. “I’m glad. Although I suspect your humiliation pales next to my own.”

  Confused, Jak glanced up.

  “Sir?”

  “I’m the one who gave you the position allowing you to treat those men like that. Had I given the command to a piglet, I would have seen better leadership.”

  Letting out a low, heavy sigh, Jak said, “I was wrong, Commander.”

  “Oh, you were more than wrong. I wish I could convey to you just how wrong you were, yet there is no word in Argot for it. Perhaps you should head to the library and research other tongues. I bet you could find a word that describes the breadth of your wrongness. What do you think? Does that sound like something you would like to do?”

  Jak shook his head.

  “Not particularly, sir.”

  The commander’s gaze bored into him as the old soldier said, “When you are commanding men, Jak, there are times to scream at them, and there are times to laugh with them. Guess which today was?”

  “To laugh, sir?”

  “Wrong,” snapped the commander. “You were initially correct to chastise your charge for not taking their drills seriously. Yet you took it too far, Jak. Much too far. You went beyond making your point and moved straight to fostering resentment.”

  Jak stared at the older soldier and sighed.

  “I understand, sir.”

  “I don’t think you do. Because if you did, you would have never pulled that stunt out there!”

  By now, every bit of Jak’s ill-tempered anger was gone.

  “I am sorry, Commander. Truly, I am. I just…” He trailed off and looked away, staring blankly at one of the torches. The reason for his sour mood was not one he could share.

  Commander Aiden remained silent for a few moments before letting out a sigh and speaking. The anger was absent from his voice, but an edge of authority remained.

  “Look, Jak, I know you miss your brother and sister.”

  Jak’s gaze instantly shifted back to the commander, but he remained quiet. He was not to tell anyone about Kenders’ absence.

  Commander Aiden looked past Jak, turned around to check the hallway behind him, and then leaned forward, speaking in a low voice.

  “I know she’s gone, Jak. I confronted Lady Vivienne about it last week.”

  Jak waited a moment before asking, “How did you know?”

  A dry smile spread over Commander Aiden’s lips.

  “It was not all that hard to figure out. No one has seen her, Khin, or the new White Lion in weeks. And you’ve been…less than a joy for the same stretch. It only made sense.”

  Frowning, Jak muttered, “I suppose I have been a bit surly.”

  “A bit?”

  “Fine. More than a bit, sir.”

  “You are permitted to worry, Jak, but you cannot allow your emotions to affect your duties.”

  With a firm nod, Jak said, “I understand, sir.”

  “I hope so. Prove it to me during afternoon drills.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Jak. “I will.”

  Commander Aiden relaxed, uncrossing his arms and assuming a more informal pose. Eyeing him carefully, the commander said, “I’m going to share something rather important with you. Something I’m supposed to keep to myself.”

  After this morning, Jak was sur
prised the man would confide in him.

  “You don’t need to do that, sir.”

  “Yes, I do,” replied Commander Aiden. “I need you to fully grasp how important it is that you keep focus.” He leaned close, his eyes reflecting the flickering of the torchlights. “Once Broedi and Nikalys return, we’re leaving, Jak. The army of the White Lions will be moving to the front lines.”

  A rush of anxiety fluttered in Jak’s chest.

  “Do we have new information from the west?”

  “No, nothing. In fact, it is the lack of information that drives the decision. Things on the First Council have deteriorated. Barons Tilas and Treswell withdrew from the council last week. All of Freehaven is in an uproar.”

  Considering what he had witnessed in the Council Hall, Jak was not surprised by the turn of events. Nevertheless, it was disturbing to hear.

  “Does that mean the Borderlands and Great Lakes are no longer part of the Oaken Duchies?

  Commander Aiden shrugged.

  “No one seems to know. Apparently, two dozen barristers are arguing the point now. Although, whatever conclusion they arrive at is moot. Old parchments and old men can’t shield us from Chaos’ army, now can they?”

  “No, they cannot,” muttered Jak, a deep frown on his face. “This is not good, Commander. Not good at all.”

  “No, Jak, it’s not. But there is some sweet with the sour. The first detachments of Southern Arms have already reached Demetus. More will be arriving over the next few weeks along with the advance groups of the Shore Guard. And the Red Peaks has committed to joining the effort should war break out. Duchess Aleece believes the Foothills are leaning with us as well.”

  Jak could not believe all of this was happening.

  “None of this seems real.”

  Certain weariness filled the commander’s eyes.

  “I’ve been preparing for this for over two decades, Jak, and I feel the same way. We need more time.”

  “How much time would you need before you felt ready?”

  A dry chuckle slipped from the commander.

  “A few hundred years ought to do it.”

  The two men stood silent in the hall for a time, both staring blankly at the walls. Commander Aiden broke the quiet first, speaking in a soft, restrained voice.

  “Shorn Rise was the first time any of us had seen an oligurt or razorfiend. The only thing our armies know about our enemy is what they’ve heard in playmen’s sagas. Oligurts, mongrels, razorfiends…”

  Jak muttered, “Don’t forget demons.”

  “Oh, I haven’t,” said the commander. “You know, Jak, the heat of battle tends to draw forth every fear a man already has while instilling a whole set of new ones. Our forces will be terrified by what they face. You and the rest of the men here are going to be the few soldiers in all the duchies who are somewhat prepared for what is coming. I’m counting on every one of you to keep our armies focused.”

  “I hear you, Commander. I will be a better example.”

  “That’s good,” said the soldier with a nod of approval. Patting Jak on the shoulder, he stepped past, on his way down the hall. “Be sure and get something to eat, Corporal.”

  Jak said over his shoulder, “I will, sir.”

  “And eat in the commons with the men, please. Not in your room.”

  Smiling faintly, Jak replied, “Yes, sir.”

  He stood in place a few moments, gathering himself, when he heard Commander Aiden’s scuffling steps come to a quick stop.

  “Pardon me, my dear—I did not see you there.”

  A woman’s too-familiar voice replied, “No need to apologize, Commander.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Jak stepped forward, heading back in the direction from which he had come, away from the commons and the woman. He did not have a destination in mind other than ‘not here.’

  Sabine’s voice rang out from behind him.

  “Jak?”

  For a brief moment, he considered ducking down a side hallway and pretending he did not hear her. The young woman confounded him. Weeks ago, he had shared a wondrous evening in the commons with her, laughing and jesting. Shortly thereafter, her attitude toward him had shifted. It took him a few days to realize the change coincided with Nikalys’ departure on the Sapphire. He was unsure how to feel about that.

  “Jak!”

  Her voice filled the hallway, echoing off the stone blocks. If he were deaf, he would have still heard her.

  Letting out a low sigh, Jak stopped and turned. Sabine hurried toward him, holding the sides of her green dress, keeping the hem a few inches above the ground. The torches lining the hall lit her face, revealing an expression of clear irritation.

  Affixing a neutral smile on his face, Jak said, “Oh, hello, Sabine.”

  Shortly after Kenders had run off, Sabine sought out Jak and revealed that she knew of his sister’s absence. Apparently, Kenders had confided in Sabine prior to leaving with Zecus. Jak was furious with Sabine for not telling him before Kenders ran off. Sabine was equally put off by Jak’s expectation that she should have come running to him to report. Jak stalked away and had avoided Sabine since. She had come to his room twice in the past week, but he had ignored her knocking both times.

  Sabine stopped before him and stared up at him, her silky, raven-black hair hanging loose and free around her face.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the armory.”

  Sabine cocked a disbelieving eyebrow.

  “Truly?”

  “Yes. I need to get a new scabbard.”

  He lied. His current scabbard was perfectly fine.

  “Odd,” muttered Sabine. “Because it sounded like the commander more or less ordered you to go to the commons and get something to eat.”

  Eyes narrowing, Jak asked, “Were you eavesdropping?”

  Sabine shook her head.

  “Not at all. I happened to be walking through the halls when I heard the two of you talking. As I did not want to interrupt, I simply stayed in a side hallway until you were done.”

  “That sounds like eavesdropping.”

  Sabine shrugged her shoulders.

  “To me, it sounds as if I were being polite.”

  “What did you hear? Exactly?”

  “Truly? Not much,” admitted Sabine. “You both were talking too quietly for me to hear every word.” She sounded disappointed. “Although…I did hear Commander Aiden mention that everyone will be leaving when Nikalys and Broedi return.”

  Jak said firmly, “That’s not to be shared with anyone, Sabine.”

  Giving him a level stare, she said, “Gee, thanks, Jak. I was wondering about that.” The sarcasm in her voice was as clear as a Summer sky in Yellow Mud.

  “You know what I mean,” said Jak. “Can you keep that to yourself?”

  A tiny huff of a laugh slipped from her lips. “You’re asking if I can keep a secret?” Reaching up, she slipped two fingers under the neckline of her dress, and pulled two necklaces free. One was the silver-link chain she always wore given to her by her mother. The other was a simple leather thong with a silver teardrop hanging from it. Jak stared at the pendant with wide eyes.

  “That’s my mother’s necklace.”

  Sabine nodded once, smiling.

  “Yes, Jak. I know that.”

  “How did you—” He stopped and shifted his gaze back to Sabine’s face. “Kenders gave it to you, didn’t she? Why in the Nine Hells didn’t you tell me you had that?”

  Sabine’s expression hardened.

  “I was going to, Jak, but you ran off before I could. And you’ve been hiding in your blasted room ever since! Honestly, even Helene does not behave so.”

  Had this conversation occurred a short while ago, before the one with Commander Aiden, Jak would have reacted with sharp words. Now, however, he bit his lip and drew a deep, steadying breath. She was right. His behavior had been childish.

  “I apologize, Sabine.”

  She shook her h
ead.

  “It’s no matter.”

  “No, Sabine,” said Jak, his voice firm. “I apologize. For everything. I’ve acted the lout for weeks.”

  She regarded him a moment, her brown eyes swallowing him. Eventually, the corners of her lips turned up a fraction.

  “Yes, Jak Isaac, you have.”

  He smiled at the modest agreement and remained quiet. She, too, kept silent, staring at him, the harder edges in her face softening. Yet again, he was struck by her beauty. Before he began gaping like a fool, he glanced back at his mother’s necklace.

  “So, how are they? Unharmed?”

  Even though the pendant had spent fifteen years around Marie Isaac’s neck, the magical artifice had originally belonged to Nikalys and Kenders’ blood mother. Eliza Kap had knit a Weave into the matte silver teardrop bound specifically to brother and sister. Whoever held the necklace could determine both the wellbeing of the pair and the general direction in which they lay simply by picturing their faces.

  A gentle smile spread over Sabine’s perfect lips as she said, “If they weren’t, Jak, I would have broken down your door last week. Not knocked politely.” He was in the midst of letting out a relieved sigh when her brow drew together. “Although…”

  A jolt of alarm shot through Jak as he asked, “What does that mean?”

  “Don’t worry,” said Sabine quickly. “They are not harmed. They’re…” She trailed off and glanced down at the necklace. “Well, I’m not really sure what they are.”

  “Are you using it right?”

  “There’s not much to it, Jak. Hold necklace, think of their faces. Yes. I’m using it right.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “Well…for a time, whenever I would check on Nikalys—” her eyes fluttered suspiciously “—I felt ill.” She shrugged. “Whatever it was, it stopped over a week ago. He seems fine now. But every time I check on Kenders, she…well…” She trailed off, sounding troubled.

  Jak stared at her. The uneasy expression on Sabine’s face worried him.

  “What is it?

  Sabine’s beautiful eyes locked on his own.

  “She’s sad, Jak.”

  Jak blinked. He had not expected that.

  “She’s…sad?”