Legends of Windemere: 03 - Family of the Tri-Rune

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “You speak as if the rest of us are secondary to Nyx,” Timoran points out. He licks his lips and tries to hide his displeasure at the idea of being destined cannon fodder.

  “You have my apologies if that is how you took my words,” Isaiah says, running a hand over his scaly head. “Again, all of you are important to the success of this prophecy. I focus on Nyx because I’m the one who pulled her from the jaws of death when she was a child and delivered her to Rainbow Tower. I guess I do talk like she is the key to victory, which is unfair to the rest of you. If anything, Sari needs more protection than Nyx while Luke needs someone with great wisdom to keep him out of trouble. Those two can be problematic.”

  Timoran laughs heartily and slaps his hands on the table. “It sounds like all of them need a guardian. I will consider your words and make my decision before they depart. If it truly is destiny then I will have little choice in what happens.”

  “I look forward to your decision,” Isaiah declares, getting to his feet. “Can you hand me a napkin from the table behind you?”

  Timoran turns to grab a napkin and is surprised to find Isaiah is gone, except for a small pouch on the table. With his heart beating in his ears, he takes the bag and peeks in to see a clump of black hairs. Their familiar scent makes the barbarian smirk before he takes his empty mug to the bartender. He nods to the portly vampire before humming a barbarian battle hymn and walking out the door.

  10

  “You two out!” Luke yells at the healers as he barges into their tent. “Tzefira and I need to have some words.”

  The healers cautiously watch him and move to block him from getting to Tzefira. She gets to her feet and gently pushes them to the side. The mercenary meets Luke’s challenging stare with a stoic expression, her arms folded across her bandaged chest. She casually turns her back on Luke, allowing the healers to finish tightening her bandages. She can hear the young warrior anxiously shuffling his feet as he tries to maintain some level of patience. The healers take their time before they step away, defiantly refusing to leave the tent.

  “You two can leave and guard the entrance,” Tzefira calmly states. She picks up her shirt and puts it on, cringing from the dull pain in her arms. “Luke won’t try to hurt me. It isn’t in his nature to attack an unarmed woman and I’ve done nothing to provoke him. Tell the men that I’m busy for the foreseeable future.”

  The healers obediently leave the tent and tie the flap shut, their silhouettes visible through the fabric. Tzefira slowly closes her shirt, her weak fingers fumbling with a few of the small buttons. Shifting to face Luke, she finds that he has quietly moved behind her. The mercenary is startled by the restrained fury in his eyes while he meticulously inspects her face. She is tempted to push him back, but something tells her physical contact would only make the situation worse.

  “What is it you’re looking for?” she asks with a grin. “My scars couldn’t possibly be this interesting.”

  “I had a talk with Lord Highrider after killing a group of krypters disguised as dread boars,” Luke responds, taking a step back to get a better look at her. “He asked me to talk with you because he feels my presence is troubling you. The fact that I’m connected to Selenia has brought up bad memories, so you’re not as focused as he remembers from a few years ago. At least that’s his theory.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Tzefira says with a derisive snort. “I don’t like the woman, but there’s nothing I can do about the pain she caused me. To take it out on you would make me a fool since I’ve recruited several graduates from her academy. All of those warriors are highly talented and their loyalty to me is unquestionable.”

  “I’m not really one of your mercenaries, so my loyalty is questionable,” Luke contends. He circles around Tzefira, who turns to keep her eye on him. “Not that Selenia has anything to do with this. Lord Highrider is right that something is bothering you, but he has the wrong target. It isn’t me that has you on edge.”

  Tzefira stops tracking Luke’s movements and shrugs. “Lord Highrider is smart, but he jumps to conclusions too often.”

  “Apparently, he’s pretty good at gathering backgrounds on people,” the young warrior explains, his voice becoming calm and soft. “He told me an interesting story about you. Your village was burned to the ground along with your young daughter. You never found her body, but she was too young to have survived since monsters were involved. It was a simple story, but it had all the same details.”

  “You’re entering dangerous terrain, child,” the mercenary growls, clenching her fists and gritting her teeth.

  “I’ll take the risk,” Luke stubbornly declares, stopping in front of Tzefira. “I’ve heard a similar story two times already.”

  “Burning villages aren’t uncom-” Tzefira begins to say before Luke swiftly snatches the eyepatch off her face.

  Luke leaps away when she tries to grab him, but he can see her face is already making the subtle changes he expected. Her angular elven features become more pronounced while wispy strands of blonde hair slip out from under her bandana. The change that catches Luke’s full attention is when her remaining eye shifts from gray to a familiar violet. Panicking, Tzefira tries to cover her face with one hand while attempting to punch Luke with the other. She clumsily staggers forward, grabbing a tent pole to stay on her feet. She is about to blindly charge Luke when she sees the eyepatch fall at her feet. Refusing to look at the young warrior, she bends down to grab the item and puts it back on, her features returning to their illusionary façade.

  “Nyx is your daughter,” Luke bluntly states. “If I’m right then Kevin Masterson is her father.”

  “You’ve no proof,” Tzefira calmly points out. Her body is rigid with tension and her voice cracks. “As I was going to say, villages burning to the ground and mothers losing their children aren’t uncommon. You don’t have to search for very long to find victims of such tragedies.”

  “You’re right. I have no proof other than three eerily similar stories and you sharing the same eye color as Nyx. I bet she got her hair color from Kevin, but again I have no proof,” Luke admits with a charming, victorious smile. “If I am right then you would be the one who knows the truth. Kevin never met Nyx after his injuries forced him to stay with Selenia, so they would never recognize each other. As for you and Nyx, she was too young to have kept a clear memory of you. It wouldn’t even matter since you look different with your scars and the magic eyepatch. So, it’s only you who would recognize Nyx. After all, you’re the one who gave her a unique name.”

  Tzefira grins at Luke and leans against the tent pole. “It sounds like you came in here thinking I would break down crying and claim Nyx as my long lost daughter. I’m curious as to why you believed things would go that way considering I’ve never shown weakness before you or favoritism toward Nyx.”

  “Again, you’re right and my plan has failed,” Luke claims. He sighs and puts his hands in his pockets as he starts walking toward the tent flap. “Still, I could always send a message to Kevin with your description and name. Even if you changed your name, I’m guessing he’ll remember what his wife looks like, even with the scars. My bard’s memory means I’ll make a very detailed description, which Kevin will trust. Maybe I can find a local artist to draw a picture of you and send that with the message.” Luke pauses and grins at the nervous mercenary. “I can also tell Nyx that I think you’re her mother and let her take care of the rest. I wonder how long you can lie to her face before she breaks you.”

  “Wait!” Tzefira shouts before Luke can leave the tent. She bites her lower lip, making herself look oddly childish. “Nyx is my daughter and Kevin is her father. The truth is that I’ve always known she was my daughter. I’ve been keeping an ear out for news of her since she was taken to Rainbow Tower. Please sit down and let me explain before you cause me trouble.”

  Luke returns to the middle of the tent, sitting down on the pillows. He gestures for Tzefira to join him and she politely takes a seat in front of
him. At first, Luke thinks she is going to sit silently and wait for him to speak. Instead, she begins chuckling softly and the noise grows until she is laughing.

  “Are you okay?” Luke asks with concern.

  “It’s actually a strange relief for someone to discover my secret,” she whispers through her laughter and painful tears. “I spent years telling half-truths about my past and hiding the fact that my daughter is still alive. I was afraid the creatures that attacked our village were watching me and waiting for me to reveal her location. I knew they could never get to her in Rainbow Tower and that Isaiah was watching over her. Still, she is my daughter and I swore to do whatever I could to protect her. It was the only thing I could think of doing.”

  “If you were avoiding her, why did you come to Hero’s Gate and request her?” Luke asks in a soft voice. “If the creatures were watching you then they would come here to attack her.”

  “A few months ago, I began hearing stories about a powerful caster who was able to use magic without gestures or incantations. I knew it was Nyx because several of the stories mentioned her violet eyes and that she was the apprentice of Cyril,” the mercenary explains with a proud smile creeping onto her face. “I realized she was strong enough to protect herself and she has gained loyal allies who would defend her. My agents told me about your fight in Gaia’s arena and her confrontation with Queen Trinity in Rodillen. All of the stories revealed her to be so much more than I expected her to be, but . . . I also heard about her mistake.”

  Luke leans forward until his elbows are pressed into his knees. “You’re talking about what happened here.”

  “I know what it’s like to have magic and lose it. My own aura became dormant after I failed to protect our village. I was concerned that she had fallen like I had,” Tzefira admits, a few tears rolling down her cheeks and running along her scars. “I began hearing fewer stories about her and my fears grew until I heard about her battles in Haven. I was happy to hear that she hadn’t lost her magic, but I was concerned that Hero’s Gate had a lingering effect. It was only a matter of time before Nyx heard of the problems here. I didn’t know if she would seal her aura out of guilt or blindly rush back to a city that despises her. So, I brought my army here to fix Hero’s Gate before she returned.”

  “I’m confused,” Luke interrupts, scratching his head in thought. “Why would you have Nyx brought here if you wanted to fix Hero’s Gate without her?”

  “Simply put, I needed her,” Tzefira answers with a wry smile. She scratches at her bandana as she gets more comfortable on the pillows. “The problems came from the goblins and the krypters. The goblins were leaving messages for Nyx by writing ‘pack killer’ on their victims. The goblins believed she was hiding in the city and wanted her to offer a sacrifice as penance. As for the krypters, the priests analyzed one of the dead that we brought back and discovered their connection to Nyx. Word spread among the populace and they began to think she created the krypters on purpose. The situation was becoming a mess because so many factions wanted her to be in the city for trial, execution, or help. Our options were to bring Nyx here or instate martial law. Lord Highrider campaigned for the first option and gained enough public support to force my hand.” The mercenary places her hands face up on her knees and sighs. “That brings us to now.”

  Tzefira is surprised when Luke gets to his feet to pace, his mouth moving without making a sound. She worries every time the half-elf scratches his head in frustration and stomps his foot before pacing some more. The growing look of determination on Luke’s face gives her a general idea of what he is planning and she knows she will hate it. Several tense minutes pass before Tzefira decides she has to put a stop to Luke’s train of thought.

  “Don’t you dare tell Nyx about me,” she sternly orders him.

  “She should know,” Luke argues as he stops pacing. “You can’t let her continue thinking her parents are dead, especially since we’re going to Hamilton Military Academy after we finish here. She is going to meet Kevin and I’m not going to lie to him if he gets curious about Nyx’s past.”

  “That old fool would never think of asking,” Tzefira contends in a voice low enough to hide her doubt. “She’d be a wandering caster who is your friend. There would be no reason for him to be suspicious.”

  Luke rolls his eyes and drops onto the largest pile of pillows. “You don’t give him any credit. Even in his old age, Kevin is very alert and cunning. All he’d need to do is take one look at Nyx’s eyes. An orphaned half-elf with the same eyes and similar features of his dead wife is too much of a coincidence for him to ignore. That would make Nyx curious. I guarantee she will find Isaiah to get the truth out of him. Your daughter is unstoppable when she’s after something important to her. Isaiah will break pretty quickly and that will send a very angry Nyx back to you.”

  “I can handle an angry daughter,” Tzefira confidently claims. “Even a daughter who spent all of her life believing I was dead and can cover herself in magical fire.”

  “I don’t want to put her through that,” Luke says. He approaches Tzefira, stopping when he is within reach of her. “Nyx is my friend and I refuse to see her hurt by anybody. If I have to make you angry to help her then I’ll do it in a heartbeat. So, I suggest you talk to her soon or I will tell her without any sugarcoating.”

  Tzefira sneers at Luke before flooring him with a lunging punch to his chin. The force of the strike sends Luke toppling backwards, but he uses his hands to spring back to his feet. He catches a quick glimpse of Tzefira rubbing her shoulder, a look of pain on her face. With a gentle touch, he massages his throbbing jaw and checks his teeth with his tongue. A few of them are loose, so he reaches into his pocket to pull out a small tube. Ignoring Tzefira’s angry glare from, Luke squeezes a blob of yellow gel onto his finger and rubs it along his gums. He can feel a wave of cold rush through his mouth as the gel sets and fixes his damaged teeth.

  “You’re not to interfere,” Tzefira furiously snarls, her fists clenched until her knuckles turn white. “You may be Nyx’s friend and have some connection forged in battle with her, but I’m her mother. This is a family matter and you aren’t family.”

  “I’m more of a family to her than you,” Luke calmly declares when he can feel his tongue again. “You haven’t had to comfort her when she talks about not having a family. You weren’t there when she lost her magic. You have not been a part of her life since she was a helpless child, so you don’t have the right to tell me I’m not Nyx’s family.”

  “Blood is stronger than loyalty, boy,” Tzefira counters.

  “My blood is in her veins thanks to an old friend’s experiment to save her life,” Luke says, refusing to back down from the mercenary. “I don’t care if you tell her about Kevin, but I do expect you to tell her about yourself. I was going to ask you to do it before we leave Hero’s Gate, but you could put if off until it’s too late. So, I expect you to tell her the next time you see her.”

  “I don’t have to take orders from one of my own men,” the mercenary claims, desperately trying to maintain control. “I’ll remind you that you’re one of my scouts until you leave this city. You have to follow my orders because I am paying you and you swore your loyalty.”

  Luke is stunned for a few seconds before he shrugs and grins. “Keep your money because I quit. As for loyalty, I swore it to Nyx before I swore it to you. Prepare yourself and be thankful I don’t include Sari in this. I can only imagine what she’d do.”

  Tzefira moves to hit Luke, but she stops when the healers barge into the tent. They are winded and their faces are red, which Luke finds strange because he thought they were standing outside the whole time. The two men look like they finished a marathon while being chased by a pack of werewolves. A growing din of voices drifts through the open tent flap and several shifting forms appear outside. From the movement of the shadows, Luke and Tzefira guess that one group of mercenaries is trying to force its way into the healer tent while another group is fighting to s
top them.

  “What is going on out there?” Tzefira asks.

  “Conrad has begun his coup,” the old healer gasps out as he catches his breath. “He’s very agitated and a third of your men have sided with him out of fear. We don’t know if he brought in outside agents, but there’s a strong possibility he hired some muscle to intimidate his followers.”

  “This is extreme even for him,” Tzefira mutters under her breath. “This is a declaration of war, which he can’t come back from. I wonder what’s got into him.”

  “We can ask him,” Luke suggests with a grin.

  “I thought you quit,” Tzefira mentions, surprised that Luke’s anger has disappeared so quickly.

  Luke shrugs and walks toward the tent flap. “I did. This is what heroes do and Nyx will be really mad if I leave you in trouble. Besides, you’ll owe me a favor if I help you out of this. You already know what my favor is going to be, so we don’t have to negotiate.”

  “We’ll see, Callindor. We’ll see,” Tzefira whispers as she turns to the healers. “You two stay here and prepare to tend to the injured. Don’t leave this tent unless your lives are in danger. Luke and I will handle this.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” the healers say with quick salutes. Tzefira nods to them before turning on her heel and heading out to face her mutinous troops.

  *****

  Tzefira stays behind Luke, who has drawn his sabers and is patiently watching the brawling armored mercenaries. The fighting stops when the warriors see Tzefira and the two forces separate. She sees that most of her loyal men are surrounding the healer’s tent in a defensive formation and the opposing mercenaries are sheathing their weapons out of respect. Tzefira’s eyebrow curves in curiosity as she tastes the tension in the air.

  “They don’t want to be on his side,” Luke whispers, agreeing with her thoughts. “You can tell they were threatened into joining Conrad.”