The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy

by R. T. Kaelin

  Four wide thoroughfares ran through Demetus, leading to two great gates on each of the four long and straight walls. The crisscrossing of ways cut the city into nine distinct districts, the Duke’s Hall and government buildings resting in the center square. Tobias found the arranged symmetry a touch disturbing.

  Feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, Tobias looked up and found Jak staring down, a quizzical expression on his face. The young longleg bent over to whisper in Tobias’ ear.

  “I enjoy a nice sunset as much as anyone, but I have things I need to do. Will this be much longer?”

  Tobias cracked a grin and shook his head.

  “Shouldn’t be.”

  Jak nodded, muttering, “Good. I was thinking—” He cut off, his gaze focusing on the western sky. Standing tall, he lifted an arm, pointed out the window, and asked, “What in the Nine Hells is that?”

  Peering to the horizon, Tobias squinted against the orange sun and spotted a small, dark, and oddly shaped cloud shifting about the sky. When Wren did not immediately answer Jak’s question, Tobias glanced at the tijul. Wren’s face was knotted in deep concentration as he worked to maintain control over the Weave. Wild and free, nature fought any attempt to control it.

  As the swirling cloud came closer, the distant clattering of chirps and tweets was audible now.

  Nikalys leaned forward, hovering over Tobias other shoulder, and asked, “Are those…birds?”

  Through tight lips, Wren muttered, “Bluetail sparrows. I found a flock nearby.”

  “You…found a flock?” asked Duke Rholeb uneasily.

  When Wren did not answer, Tobias looked up to find the tijul deep in concentration again. Taking it upon himself to respond, Tobias eyed the duke and said, “Yes, my Lord. Lamoth’s gift grants Wren the ability to call nature’s creatures to him.”

  A quiet moment skipped past. Jak broke the silence.

  “Well, that would make hunting awfully easy.”

  Kenders muttered, “I doubt that’s the point.”

  From the dining table, Broedi rumbled, “He can speak with them, as well. If he wishes.” With a scrape of his chair, the hillman pushed himself up and began to move around to the window. “Plants and trees as well.”

  Her gaze on Wren, Duchess Aleece said, “So that’s how you know what is coming.”

  Wren did not respond, transfixed by the birds. Individual sparrows were distinguishable now within the flock, their little wings flapping furiously. Wren took a slow step closer to the window, peering into the onrushing flock, deep lines of worry covering his face and forehead.

  Tobias frowned. A worried Wren was a bad sign.

  The cloud of sparrows got ever closer, seemingly intent on flying straight into the dining hall window. Yet, at the last moment, they broke off, spreading out in all directions before swooping back upon themselves. Over and over, hundreds of birds and flew in great circles outside the window, like the same ocean wave repeatedly crashing against shore rocks. Their constant, shrill chirping was deafening.

  Suddenly, the birds’ high-pitched cacophony changed, and with a quick staccato of panicked screeches, they darted from the Duke’s Hall, breaking into small groups and flying off in a dozen different directions. Wren’s shoulders slumped and he reached out to grasp the stone ledge of the window.

  As the cloud of sparrows dissipated, Tobias stepped forward, moving to Wren’s side, and stared up.

  “So?”

  Wren spun around and, in voice utterly clear of his typical, smug arrogance, said, “The walls must be manned. Tonight.”

  As everyone exchanged worried looks with one another, Broedi rumbled, “You said they were two to three days away.”

  “This morning, they were,” answered Wren, his brow furrowed with unconcealed confusion. “Yet they are much closer now. Much closer.” He stared back out the window. “I don’t understand how that’s possible.”

  Duchess Aleece asked, “And how confident are you of this?”

  Wren turned to face the duchess, held her stare, and said, “They will be here tomorrow, my Lady. I have no doubt.”

  The noblewoman sighed, pressed her lips together, and eyed the duke.

  “Thoughts, Rholeb?”

  A deep frown rest upon the longleg’s face.

  “It’s better to have sword in hand than in sheathe. I say we man the walls.”

  “Agreed,” said the duchess. Eyeing Jak, she added, “Inform Commander Aiden we want full details at the western wall as soon as he can manage. North and south soon after. The moment—the absolute moment—anyone sees something, I want to know.”

  Wholly serious now, Jak said, “Of course, my Lady.” He nodded to his brother and sister and turned to walk away when Nikalys spoke up.

  “My Lady? May I have your leave? There is something I must see to.”

  Duchess Aleece glanced at Broedi, received a nod from the hillman, then looked back to Nikalys.

  “Go.”

  Nikalys stepped closer to Kenders, gave her a quick kiss atop her forehead, and said, “Be safe.” He shifted his gaze to Wren. “Meet me in the stable yards as soon as you can.”

  Oddly enough, Wren nodded without making any sort of comment.

  Nikalys turned and strode toward the door where Jak stood, waiting. As the pair exited the room together, Duchess Aleece turned to Wren.

  “Is there anything else you can tell us? Anything at all?”

  Wren shook his head once.

  “I honestly wish I could.”

  After taking a deep breath and exhaling, Duchess Aleece said, “In that case, I must return to the enclave to share this development with Lady Vivienne. Rholeb, may I suggest one last patrol to ensure the lands around Demetus are clear of citizenry? It is about to become very dangerous for anyone outside the walls.”

  “It won’t be much better for those inside them,” mumbled the duke.

  “No,” agreed Duchess Aleece. “But most of us will have weapons.”

  Nodding, Duke Rholeb said, “No worries, Aleece. The lands will be clear.”

  “The last of the sick and injured will be through the ports tonight,” said Tobias. “Nundle is seeing to that now.”

  “Good,” said the duchess with a nod. Turning to Broedi, she asked, “You will see to the mages, yes? Ensure they are ready?”

  “Gamin will have to do so, my Lady,” rumbled Broedi. “I am returning to the enclave with you.”

  A flicker of surprise dashed over the duchess’ face.

  “Why?”

  “There is something important I have not yet had the time to address.”

  “More important than getting the defenses in place?” asked the duchess.

  “Perhaps,” rumbled Broedi.

  Tobias peered at the hillman, curious.

  “It must be quite important, then.”

  Broedi nodded, saying softly, “It could be.”

  Her tone turning pointed, Duchess Aleece asked, “Is there something I should know? Something I should have been made aware of a long time past?”

  Broedi shook his head.

  “If you are asking if I am keeping more secrets, the answer is no. I simply have some questions I need answered.”

  “And you need them answered now?” asked Kenders.

  “Yes,” rumbled Broedi. “Now.”

  Nodding, the duchess said, “I must take you at your word, then.” Turning to Kenders, she said, “Find Gamin. Tell him what is happening. Do what you must to get the mages ready.”

  “Yes, my Lady.”

  Looking to Tobias next, the duchess said, “Can you open a port, please? I would like to be back here as soon as possible.”

  With a firm nod, Tobias said, “If you are ready, we can leave at once.”

  “Please.”

  Tobias stepped away from the window, instructed everyone to stand back, and reached for the Strands of Void and Air. As he crafted the Weave, he kept one eye on Broedi, wondering exactly what his friend was up to now.


  Chapter 52: Stars

  22nd of the Turn of Maeana, 4999

  Sabine stood in the cold, all alone, staring into the nighttime sky.

  Thin, barely-there clouds streaked the areas of the sky, softly glowing in the light of both moons. Blue Moon was waning yet still dominated the sky. White Moon was a mere sliver of a crescent. A new layer of fresh snow from this morning covered the courtyard, its tiny crystals glistening and sparkling in the soft, azure moonlight.

  An involuntary shiver rippled through her and she pulled the blanket draped around her shoulders tighter. She sighed, sending a puff of warm vapor into the chilly air, and moved her feet a bit, shifting her weight. The layer of old snow beneath the new crunched, the sound filling the empty courtyard. It felt as if she were the only person in the world.

  The past few days had been lonesome ones. After the rush of activity as the soldiers and mages left for Demetus, the enclave had been maddeningly quiet. She did her best to keep herself—and Helene—occupied, but the days dragged, leaving Sabine too much time to ruminate on Helene and what had happened in the mages’ hall.

  Sabine had longed to speak with Broedi, but he was here and gone before she had a chance. When Jak had stopped to say goodbye before heading west, he promised to speak with the hillman as soon as he had the opportunity. Five days had passed since that promise and Sabine was beginning to wonder if he had kept his word.

  A tiny smile touched her lips. Of course, Jak would. He was a good and trustworthy man.

  Moments later, Nikalys’ face popped into her head and her smile faded. Sabine dropped her head, stared at the snow, and sighed, sending another small cloud of breath into the night.

  “What am I doing?”

  Nikalys had also sought her out before leaving. She had been sitting with Helene in their room, keeping her sister calm and sheltered from the heightened activity about the enclave. Following a knock at their door, Sabine opened it and found Nikalys waiting in the hallway. The moment he saw them both, a wide, happy grin split his face. Helene leapt from the bed, ran across the room, and jumped into his arms, squeezing him tight.

  Nikalys had sat with the little girl for a long time, patiently listening to every story Helene shared with him. She talked about everything but the explosion. Helene’s exuberance prevented Sabine from getting in more than a few words at time, relegating her to offering repeated, slightly uncomfortable smiles to Nikalys. Before she got her own chance to speak with him, Nundle fetched him. It was time to leave.

  Both brothers had left Storm Island with neither knowing she had kissed the other.

  Shutting her eyes, she muttered, “Blast it, Sabine.”

  She did not want to have feelings for both, but she did. Something drew her to Nikalys, and him to her, if she read him right. Yet Jak—an admirable and honorable man in his own right—was a better match. She simply had more in common with him. Like her, Jak was the child of simple farmers. Nikalys, on the other hand, was the son of two legendary heroes granted incredible gifts by the Gods.

  Logic alone dictated a clear choice. Yet her heart continually rebelled against her head.

  Two men.

  Two options. Both sweet. Both sour.

  One choice to make.

  Sabine gave a tiny, frustrated shake of her head. Fate had dealt her a difficult hand.

  “Blast you, Greya.”

  Opening her eyes, she returned her attention to the heavens, trying to clear her head. Her personal issue was insignificant in the scheme of things.

  The star-littered sky sparkled, countless specks of light filling the black wherever clouds and moons did not obscure them. She ran her gaze over the different constellations, seeking out a handful of familiar shapes.

  Prairie Rabbit in the east.

  Rheoc’s Pick straight above.

  The Nine Brothers to the south.

  In the years before Helene, Sabine and her mother would sit on the hill outside their cottage, staring at the night sky, her mother pointing out the different star groupings and sharing the names bestowed upon them by nameless souls of the past.

  Swiveling around to face west, Sabine sought out her mother’s favorite constellation. A wistful smile crept over her lips as she spotted the familiar clump of stars, a long, sparkling line curling out from a clustered center.

  “Hello, Green Dragon.”

  The memory of sitting with her mother on the hillside, her father leaning in the lit-up cottage doorway, watching them with a content smile pushed Sabine’s reflective mood over a cliff into a chasm of melancholy. A tiny breeze swirled about the courtyard, stirring up small whirlwinds of loose snowflakes. As one rushed past her, she felt an icy wetness on her cheek.

  Suddenly, the sound of fabric being rend in two filled the yard, echoing on the tall, stone walls. Spinning in a slow circle, Sabine scanned the snow, seeking the sound’s source, knowing exactly for what to look. On the northeastern side of the yard, she spotted a flickering ripple where ground met wall. She recognized the telltale tear of a port instantly.

  “Hells.”

  Her gaze flicked to the open gate. With every Shadow Mane soldier in Demetus, men from Claw were left to ‘guard’ the entrance. Tonight’s pair was made up of a fisherman and a wheelwright, neither with a weapon. Nevertheless, Sabine was about to shout an alarm when a short figure stepped through, crunching on the snow. Sabine let a relieved, misty breath slip from her lips, as she recognized the tomble White Lion.

  Tobias’ gaze settled on her and he gave a short, surprised nod of greeting before stepping aside. Sabine did not know the tomble well, but anxious for details on what was happening in Demetus, she began to stride briskly toward the port. As she approached, Duchess Aleece emerged next and moved to the side, wrapping her arms around herself. The noblewoman wore a straight-cut, blue dress not meant to hold up to Storm Island’s wintry weather.

  Upon reaching the pair, Sabine gave a short bow.

  “Good days ahead, my Lady. Welcome back.”

  “And good memories behind,” replied the duchess. “And, please, Sabine. Stand up. I have no use for formality now.”

  Sabine stood straight, surprised by the duchess’ friendly tone as this was only the second time she had spoken to the noblewoman.

  Shivering against the night’s chill, Duchess Aleece turned to Tobias.

  “Perhaps I should have retrieved a cloak before we came?”

  “I loathe Southlands’ Winters, my Lady,” said Tobias. “Always have, always will.” He glanced up at the duchess. “No offense meant.”

  “And none heard,” replied Duchess Aleece. “I much prefer the northern reaches of my duchy as well.” She shivered again.

  Sabine stepped forward, unwrapped one of the two blankets she had brought with her, and held it out to the duchess.

  “Here, I have two. And an overcoat on underneath.”

  Duchess Aleece accepted the blanket with a grateful nod, wrapped it around her shoulders, and said, “Thank you. How very kind of you.” A quizzical glint entered her eyes. “Might I ask what you are doing out here?”

  Catching a curious stare from Tobias, Sabine hesitated before saying, “Just thinking, my Lady.”

  Duchess Aleece nodded, keeping her eyes locked on Sabine.

  “You could think while sitting before a fire.”

  “If you can get past the cold, it’s actually nice. Very peaceful.”

  The noblewoman continued to stare at Sabine, her gaze similar to the way Sergeant Trell sometimes stared at people, judging them, evaluating. Without warning, she approached Sabine, leaned in close—wholly taking Sabine off guard—and whispered, “Both are good men. You cannot go wrong with either.”

  Pulling away, Sabine peered at the duchess, baffled.

  “How could you…?”

  A slight, bemused grin spread over the duchess’ face as she said, “Men in love are easier to read than fresh ink on new parchment. Women, too.”

  Sabine continued to stare, unsure what to
say.

  Tilting her head to the side, Duchess Aleece said, “Have faith. Fate has a way of working these things out.”

  Before Sabine could think of a response, the duchess’ kind, almost sisterly expression faded, quickly replaced by cool interest.

  “How is Helene doing?”

  There was more than simple inquisitiveness in her tone.

  Sabine’s own mood shifted as quickly as the duchess’ had. In a much cooler tone than she had expected or intended, she said, “She is fine.”

  Duchess Aleece nodded slowly, studying her.

  “Good to hear.”

  Sabine held the sovereign’s gaze without flinching. A steady, calm resoluteness swelled inside her, preparing her to do whatever necessary to protect Helene. The crunch of snow and ice announced another’s arrival through the port. A familiar baritone voice spoke a moment later.

  “How fortuitous.”

  Sabine glanced over to find Broedi staring at her, his eyes unusually intense. A small pop announced the farewell of the port as it winked from the courtyard.

  Tobias asked, “What in the Nine Hells took you so long?”

  Without ever taking his eyes from her, Broedi said, “I was leaving directions for Khin and Kenders. Sabine, do you have a few moments? I would like to speak to you.” Duchess Aleece and Tobias both turned to stare at the hillman with keen, interested expressions.

  Sabine’s heart thudded hard in her chest. Jak must have spoken with him.

  Nodding, she said, “Of course.”

  “Good,” rumbled the White Lion. Turning to the duchess, he said, “I will be along to the offices shortly, my Lady.”

  The duchess glanced between Broedi and Sabine a few times, a tiny frown on her face, before saying, “Try to hurry. I do not want to tarry long here.”

  “Agreed,” said the hillman. Shifting his gaze to the tomble, he asked, “Tobias, will you come along as well? I will need your help.”