The Outcast

by Calle J. Brookes

  Chapter 13

  SHE could do this. She didn’t need Marcos’ support, though it was certainly appreciated. She stayed still until the people of her mother’s House stepped past the initial entrance to the courtyard and moved toward the queen and king. Toward her.

  The two hours it took were some of the longest of her life. Finally the House of Amyenka came close enough to pay respects to the High King and their hosts in this new world.

  The first person she recognized was Salo, her mother’s old tutor. Her old tutor. His eyes met hers.

  She didn’t know what to do next, so she fell back on the training her mother had given her. That Salo had given her. She bowed the traditional formal greeting of the Dardaptoan people.

  He stopped walking, causing half the people behind him to stop, as well.

  Lana continued to study her people. And they were hers. The weight of the responsibility settled upon her soul. As did the knowledge that leading the House of Amyenka was what the goddess she’d worshipped her entire life had destined for her.

  She was ready to meet that future now. Or as ready as she would ever be.

  Others wearing Amyenka brown had stopped now, too. Kir, Jacu, Phe, and Rek—Dardaptoans she’d known for her entire life. Kir was crying. Phe and Rek stared at her. Lana nodded at the couple, distant cousins of her mother.

  “The heir lives!” Rek turned to the people behind him as he yelled the words.

  Others picked up the cry. Soon the crowd was chanting, “She lives!” and “Havalana!”

  And then, as more and more of her mother’s people—her people—came through the portkey, the chants grew.

  She just stood silent as the crowd swelled. Thousands of Dardaptoans filled the demon courtyard. Her family’s people, the ones she had led these past three years, those she recognized as her Rajni’s House, plus onlookers drawn to the commotion—they all stared in her direction.

  The eyes and the questions—they did not matter. Her people, her House—that was what was important.

  Ragner would not control them any longer.

  Rek and Salo came to her. Kir, too. Her mother’s best friend wrapped trembling hands around Lana’s upper arms. “We feared you were lost to us forever.”

  “I was never lost; I was fleeing and injured. Tell me, where is Ragner?” She would never again claim him as her brother.

  “He comes through last.” Rek bowed to her. “He wished the leaders of this land to be impressed by our House’s numbers and wealth.”

  Her Rajni squeezed her shoulder. “I have not been in this world long, but I have seen enough to doubt that wealth matters much here.”

  Lana agreed. “The numbers may be of great use in this time, but the wealth and ostentatious trappings Ragner so desperately loves—no. Loyalty and a love of our House, and our Goddess will be what is prized.”

  “Are you ready, then? To take the mantle that by all birthrights is yours?” Rek had long been a man of frank words. Lana had always appreciated it.

  “I am ready.”

  Rek stared at her. Lana kept her gaze steady and direct on the male who had been her mother’s top advisor until four years ago.

  He bowed to her and turned toward the crowd surrounding them. “House of Amyenka! Heed my words well! This is the day our people will remember for eternity! The Dahn of Amyenka lives. Behold our Havalana Amyenka, of the noble and ancient House of Amyenka!”

  His voice carried and had the crowd quieting. Lana’s heartbeat sped up.

  Her Rajni was there, his grip tight and reassuring on her shoulders. Lana risked a glance at him. Some of her anxiety subsided, but only a bit. She nodded, slowly, then raised a hand to the one he rested on her right shoulder. His fingers met hers. She squeezed his hand, then stepped away.

  Her people needed to see her as strong, and not dependent on anyone to lead them—even her mate.

  She did not miss the mingled admiration and pride in his eyes.

  Rek, Kir, others that she recognized, went to one knee in front of her. Those behind them did the same, almost in a wave.

  Until she was surrounded by people kneeling before her. What was she supposed to do now?

  One person near her was the last to take a knee. Pleius. Her Pleius. Her best friend—her protector.

  Everything a brother should be. Without him she would have been lost to the evil that was Ragner’s soul.

  Her gaze met his.

  He took the hat off, then bowed his handsome head. His unfailing faith in her had been what had carried her through. She would never forget that.

  Marcos’ hand brushed against the small of her back.

  More quiet, steady faith. Something she most definitely needed.

  Havalana stepped forward. Lifted her face to the sun, then looked at her people as they gathered in front of her. She needed to say something to them. To let them know she was here and that from this moment forward she would lead them.

  Marcos must have read the thoughts in her head. He lifted her from behind, and placed her on the small dais.

  Next to the watching king and queen, next to his sister and brother-in-law. She did not miss the power in that placement. And she would take advantage of it.

  “I know you have questions, and some legitimate fears. About this new place and where I have been these years…”

  Chapter 14

  MARCOS could barely breathe as he watched the transformation of his female from timid outcast to strong and beautiful Dahn. He looked at his family surrounding her and knew they saw the same as he.

  Did she realize what was happening to her in that moment?

  Her people were hanging on her every word. And how could they not? There was a power in her voice, beyond just the motivational words of a great leader.

  He studied her for a long moment. Something about his female had changed, almost in an instant. Her skin was radiant, her eyes bright and bold, and fire touched the long red hair.

  She no longer looked ragged and waifish, though he knew the pardus and vestis she wore were too big and borrowed from the healer Thadd’s younger sister.

  “I know you have questions and some legitimate fears. About this new place and where I have been these years. Evil has separated us, robbing a number of the daughters of Amyenka of the family the Goddess Kennera decreed for them. This evil also took from us my mother, Dahn of this noble house. That evil is one that is known to you, to me. Had I not fled almost four years ago I would have been lost to you, as well. The last true decedent of the original Amyenka. It was only by our Goddess’s grace that I lived to guide our House of Amyenka now, in this strange land. The daharana has been the blessing of my mother’s family since the creation of our people. Ragner tried to take that from this House, by treachery, greed, and deceit. No more!”

  Her voice rang out over the now still crowd. Marcos studied those who were the dark brown of Amyenka. Ragner still stood, a handful of men beside him. The bastard had no expression on his face, but he had yet to look away from Lana.

  Marcos resisted the urge to go to her, to show Ragner that Lana would no longer be vulnerable to him. But he didn’t.

  Her people needed to see her as their leader. Fierce, strong, capable, fair, loving, and yet willing to do whatever was needed to keep them safe.

  Her voice still carried over the courtyard and he half wondered how such depth and sound could come from such a small body.

  “From this moment forward the House of Amyenka will be led by a true heir of the first Havalana Ara Amyenka, my great, great-grandmother.” Lana pointed toward the back of the crowd. “Ragner, once Amyenka, step forward and accept the consequences of your sins against this House, the one the Goddess Kennera made!”

  It was a bold challenge on her part, but Marcos sensed that the crowd surrounding them agreed with her words, were believing in the power of her and her position.

  He had not known that the House of Amyenka was matrilineal. Many Dardaptoan Houses were not. And he had not known
that Ragner was an imposter Dhar of the House four years ago. If he had, he would have simply killed him back then.

  And then maybe he would have found his female sooner.

  It would take Marcos a while to forgive himself that oversight.

  He could have found her, protected her, and had her by his side years ago.

  Ragner tried to flee, but Marcos could have told the little shit that wouldn’t have been a smart idea.

  Aodhan and the Wolf God had come up behind the false Dhar while Lana had been speaking. Marcos’ eyes met his brother’s, and he definitely appreciated the expression on Aodhan’s face.

  Aodhan would be keeping Ragner for Marcos to deal with later, wouldn’t he? Marcos intended to enjoy the privilege.

  And after seeing the marks left on Lana’s back by Ragner’s treachery, Marcos held the right of a Rajni to avenge his female’s suffering—never mind the shit Ragner had done to him four years ago.

  No, Marcos would make Ragner pay for what he had done to Lana, and all the females she had led deep into the Russian woods. He would make Ragner suffer for every single night those Dardaptoan babes had gone to bed with too little food and no real shelter.

  By rights, Lana should be the one to extract that punishment from the male who tried to take what was hers by rights—at least according to Dardaptoan law.

  As the last heir of Amyenka that was her position and part of her responsibility. But he knew his healer female would never be able to strike such a blow.

  But Dardaptoan law also considered such things—and he could act in her stead. Him, and no other.

  Aodhan dragged Ragner through the crowd of Amyenkans and Lana’s people took up the cry denouncing him as one of their own.

  Some threw dirt on him, and one enterprising young boy threw rocks that struck Ragner square in the groin.

  Lana did not acknowledge the arrest, but gave the crowd a few moments to regain their composure. Then she looked at Marcos, and beckoned. He stepped up on the dais.

  She held out a hand to him and he wrapped his fingers around hers. She pulled his palm toward her mouth and brushed her lips against it.

  It was a traditional sign of affection between Rajnis. And all who watched knew that she was publicly acknowledging their bond.

  She let his hand go, then lifted hers to her followers. The crowd hushed. He watched as his female pulled in a deep breath. “Be assured, any else who perpetuated Ragner’s evil will face their own justice in the coming days—either at my hand or more justly, the Goddess’s. But now we must look to the future, even in this, the most uncertain time for our House and our entire Kind. We do not know what tomorrow will bring for our House and family. We must trust each other, and most especially our Goddess, whose edicts have brought us here today. To the world of Relaklonos, to a world in which we will build the noble House of Amyenka!”

  A ripple started at the back of the crowd, so far back Marcos could barely see what it was. There was a glow he hadn’t expected, and he wasn’t certain whether it was a portkey opening or not.

  A woman walked through the courtyard, toward his Lana.

  Marcos’ breath backed up in his throat and his eyes began to burn. His heart stuttered.

  He’d heard the Goddess lived amongst their people now, but he hadn’t been certain he believed it.

  Kennera, Goddess of all Dardaptoans almost floated over the ground.

  Toward his female.

  The crowd was bowed now, and not just on their knees. And it wasn’t just Amyenkans bowing. It was all Dardaptoans. He slipped down to his knees before the female responsible for his entire existence.

  She stopped directly in front of his Rajni. The goddess held out her hands and stopped Lana from bowing.

  His female, touched by the Goddess.

  Chapter 15

  LANA didn’t know what to do, so all she could do was take the hands the Goddess offered.

  She looked only a bit like the ancient paintings that had been passed down through the Dardaptoan people throughout the centuries.

  Lana just hoped all of the awe and nerves she felt didn’t show.

  Every Dardaptoan knew the Goddess of their Kind.

  A finger on her chin had her meeting the Goddess’s gaze directly.

  “Do not lower your head, Havalana Amyenka. You have no need to be ashamed of anything, my dear little sister.”

  “I—”

  “You are special to me, child. In ways you do not yet know. I see your soul; as it is now, and as it was then. Pure and good and full of the love you possess for your people.”

  The Goddess’s eyes were kind and loving, and almost wistful. Lana found she couldn’t look away. Not that she wanted to. “I see the vestiges in you, as well, of the soul of my younger sister lost to me so many years ago. I did not know at your birth that you had a part of her buried in you.”

  Lana did not understand. She tried to tell the Goddess that, but the words—unlike those she’d used with her own people just a few moments ago—would not come. But the Goddess must have understood.

  She smiled, and the expression was so much like Lana’s mother’s had been that fresh tears ran down her cheeks.

  “You are still the daughter of the mother who loved you so much, but a part of my sister’s soul has been reborn in you. I did not know it so at the time of your birth, but now that I do, you are cherished always by me and mine. Never again will you be outcast.”

  What did it mean for her? Her people?

  “We will speak of it later, little sister. Now your future lies with that wickedly handsome mate of yours, who reminds me a great deal of my own Rajni. And now your people are waiting for you to lead them.”

  The Goddess let go of Lana’s hand and moved to stand beside her. She was considerably taller than Lana, and a glow radiated around her. It encompassed Lana and the warmth soaked into her.

  It gave her courage.

  Kennera leaned over and kissed Lana’s cheek. “Lead them well. They depend upon you now. And go with my love, for the future awaits you. And you’re role in it for our entire Kind is set. We go forward on this great day.”

  Lana didn’t know why, but she reached out and embraced the Goddess.

  The Goddess would not lie to her, would she? Maybe there was some truth to it.

  But she would face that tomorrow.

  There were thousands of Dardaptoans looking at her—literally looking at her—in that moment.

  And each one needed her to lead.

  She could not break down now.

  Lana turned to Marcos. Held out her hand. Again.

  He took hers. Again.

  She had her Rajni on her left side. And she had the Goddess of her people on her right.

  The Goddess lifted her hand—the one she had clasped in Lana’s. Marcos did the same with Lana’s left.

  The Goddess’s voice rang out…

  “Behold! My dear sister Havalana Amyenka—champion and new patron of the lost, the abused, the wronged! Go forth into this day, and know that the family of your Goddess guides and protects you this day, and for always! Go! Build your lives in this new world one day at a time, and know that I am always watching! Always protecting!”

  The crowd was chanting again, this time Lana’s name mingled with that of the Goddess.

  Lana closed her eyes and fell to her knees as a great rush of power filled her.

  Power, awe, exhilaration.

  Responsibility, grief, and even fear.

  It all mingled within her.

  The responsibility was the weightiest gift the Goddess had just laid upon her.

  Responsibility Lana knew she was meant to carry. Responsibility she knew she could shoulder.

  Lana did not know what this demonic world would bring for their people.

  Great changes had happened already.

  But for the first time in years, she felt ready to face the future.

  And face it, she would… with her Rajni at her side.

 
For always.

  Watch for more Dardanos, Co: The Adrastos & Dardanos, Co. Novels

  In 2014 and 2015 from

  Calle J. Brookes and Lost River Lit.

  Coming Soon

  A Warrior Blind

  Chapter One

  WOULD she always have the nightmares? She dreamed of the warrior every night. Remembered the look on his face, the total apathy, when he’d shoved her at Ramorakin, the keeper of his slaves.

  That expression on her Rajni was one of the last clear images she had, and would ever have. How was she to face that? Her own mate, the one destined for her by her goddess, had thought so little of her that he’d thrown her to a monster. And then he had walked away.

  It was by the grace of the goddess that Bronwen Sebastos still lived. She pulled the thick blankets around her body in a useless attempt to ward off the night’s chill. The demon realm was colder than her home in Colorado, but it wasn’t the night temperature that froze her soul.

  She didn’t know how many hours she sat in her bed, unable to see even if she had flicked on a lamp, but she sensed when true morning came. She could feel the heat of the sun filtering through the window. Bronwen contemplated just staying in her bed, remaining there at least for the day—if not the rest of her life.

  Why not? It wasn’t as if she had much use now, stumbling around pitifully, using the walls to guide her through this place that was more her prison than her home. She missed her home so much.

  But returning to Colorado was not an option now. Not with the wars of these realms inching ever so closer to Gaia, to Colorado, to Relaklonos where she now sat. War was coming, one that was predicted to be the worst one in any realm’s history, and she was a healer.

  A useless one. A burden to those who loved her.

  Those who loved her were probably waiting on her for breakfast. A forceful knock sounded and Bron knew who it most likely was. He came by her room every morning to plague her; she never answered. What was she to say to Koios?