Chronicles Of Aronshae (3 Book Omnibus)

by J. K. Barber

  "Take not my laugher as mockery, Teacher," she calmed her jovial tone. "I was just thinking, how sad I will be when I am old and lonely too." Luzige released his anger at her mirth with a long sigh and took a sip of his tea.

  "Loneliness is the curse of old age," he said, shrugging. "All you know and love dies and even their memories eventually fade away. I had a wife once...," he paused briefly, "... ages ago. I can't even remember what she looked like."

  "Poor Luzige," Salamasca belittled, a smug smile on her lips and her eyes cold. Now she was mocking him. He glowered at her, but instead of acting out against her he simply set down his cup and stood.

  "I see I have overstayed my welcome. I will leave you to your fate then," Luzige remarked, pulling his hood back over his face. He walked towards the rear of the tent. Salamasca stood quickly.

  "Teacher," she called before he left. He paused, only turning back halfway. "How do I defeat the Avatar? Surely, you know how. You said, another Avatar. You know something."

  Luzige smiled wickedly. "How else, my dear? You corrupt its heart." Not willing to explain further, he exited, disappearing into the shadows.

  Salamasca stood in the tent, the only living being present, smiling in triumph.

  "Corruption is my specialty, Teacher," she spoke into the darkness, her resolve strengthened.

  "Great Mother, we evoke you this night. We ask you to join us and hear our prayer," Talas said. He and Katya were kneeling by the tiny campfire, facing each other. There wasn't much to burn in the desert, but they had found a few dead bushes to warm them for the short time before bed. The pair on their knees wore long black cloaks, supplied to them by Olivia for warmth against the cold desert nights. The garments fanned out beautifully behind them on the sand. There was a palpable mystical connection between the two people, the air humming with the power of their prayer.

  Iluak and Olivia had returned from scouting, but stayed at the edge of the firelight, not wanting to disturb them. He probably doesn't even realize we are camped in the ruins of an old temple, Olivia thought, the unintentional coincidence plain to her. She spared a quick glance to the tumbled stone columns around them. The shadows the firelight cast on the ruined stone would probably frighten Eastern folk, known to be superstitious on top of their fractured faith in their multitude of old gods, but to the Illyanders camped here presently it was just nature taking its course. "The fall of one thing leads to its rebirth in some new way," the older woman spoke the ancient phrase in her head, proof that the priestess in her still lived deep down.

  The priest held the young sorceress' hands in his own, their heads bent. "We give thanks, Great Mother, for you traveling with us on this blessed journey, for lending us your strength in Aronshae's time of need. Please continue to give Katya and her sister, Sasha, the courage and willpower to carry out your bidding. The price will be paid, and the balance will be restored. Peace will be had by all. Blessed be."

  Their prayer complete, Talas kissed Katya on the forehead. The sorceress looked at ease for once, her usual forlorn demeanor gone. Talas looked up, noticing that he and Katya were no longer alone. He saw Olivia wipe tears from her eyes. She couldn't help it. There knelt the pious man she fell in love with a lifetime ago and thought had been discarded for a shallow mercenary's life.

  Hands still interlocked, Talas stood, pulling Katya up with him. Iluak went to the sorceress' side, concerned as usual for the woman he obviously cared deeply about. His own dark cloak billowed out behind him in the chill desert breeze. Olivia noticed that he did not shiver at the wind's intrusion though. He stood straight as an arrow, his handsome tan face revealed as he pulled back his hood.

  "Thank you, Brother Talas," the raven-haired woman said with a smile for the old man. "Your words bring me great comfort." Some of Katya's formal air faded, and the young woman in her re-emerged, “It means a lot," she said hesitantly, suddenly self-conscious with the others watching.

  "Then I will rest easier tonight," Talas smiled back, not embarrassed in the least. "Sleep well, little Sister. May the rising sun restore your hope." The older man bowed, as Iluak and Katya took their leave to their tent nearby.

  Little indeed, Olivia thought. Compared to Talas' soldier's build and broad shoulders, Katya's slender frame did look small. Olivia's eyes fell to her husband's arms, his physical strength visible even through his chain shirt, the links falling around the honed muscles, developed from years of practice with weapons. She remembered what those arms felt like around her, what his hands felt like... she thought and quivered.

  Shaking herself out of such forgotten memories, Olivia sat abruptly by the fire on a piece of fallen column, took off her head wrap, veil and gloves, and raised her hands to the flame's warmth. Taking a few deep breaths, she calmed herself and, when she raised her eyes again, recognized that she was not the only one who was uncomfortable. Talas was standing awkwardly still, probably realizing he was alone again with the woman he had once called wife. Their previous attempt to work things out while at the inn in Tammat had ended up being just a lot of yelling. The evening had ended with spiteful words and them sleeping as far apart as the room had allowed. Talas stood stiffly for a short time, but finally he sat down near her. She smiled a little at his discomfort.

  "Find anything out there?" Talas asked, looking out into the fading darkness. The faint light of dawn was approaching, and they would bed down soon to avoid traveling in the deadly, blistering day time heat of the desert.

  He might as well have just asked about the weather, Olivia thought and smirked. Her face softened though. Perhaps it is time to let up a bit and give him a chance. We have both suffered enough.

  "Just barren sand and the usual nocturnal desert creatures looking for food," she replied shortly but without the harshness she would have used previously. Talas nodded and checked the buckles on his boots. There was nothing wrong with them that required such careful consideration. Silence hung heavily between them. Some of her husband's ill ease crept into her as well.

  "You are good with her," Olivia said and nodded in the direction of Katya's tent. "You would have been a good father, Talas." Olivia bent her head as she said it, not wanting to make eye contact with such a delicate sentiment, but a shocking realization popped it right back up, "You aren't a father are you?" she asked, her eyes wide and stomach suddenly full of butterflies.

  "No, I am not a father," he replied, chuckling. "I would have liked to have been though." His eyes locked with hers, and there was heartsick pain in both. "Olivia, there was no one else. Even after Damon had said you were dead. You never left my heart."

  Olivia gulped and looked ashamed, lowering her gaze again and staring at a stick in the fire.

  "What? Please, Olivia, tell me," Talas asked, mistaking her forlorn manner as her remembering some past travesty. "No one... hurt you, did they?" He looked angry, puffed up in a protective way.

  "No," she replied, stifling his fear. He let out a deep sigh. "I did take a lover at one time though." Olivia kept her eyes lowered, nervous as to how he would react.

  Talas was unable to hide the hurt in his eyes, but he nodded.

  "Fifteen years is a long time without companionship," he said quietly, lowering his own eyes.

  "It didn't last. I... he... wasn't you," she said, the final word spoken in a surrendering tone. She had missed him, wanted them to make amends. Talas' eyes shot back up. He rose and tenderly knelt at her side, taking her hand in his.

  "Olivia... I... how did... we can...," Talas tried to say too much at once, and it came out as gibberish. He took a deep breath, trying to slow down. Olivia patted his hand, her face looking tired, betraying her true age. She was a young woman no longer, looking down at their wrinkled interlocked fingers. Forty-one winters had come and past since her birth. At least, she thought that was right; there was no winter in the desert. The years had blended together into one very long summer. She figured that Talas was now about fifty. "What happened to you?" He finally inquired.

&n
bsp; She asked, "You mean after we parted?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, you were there for the beginning." Olivia started, clutching her husband's hand a little tighter for the strength to tell her tale. "We came here on that horrendous idea of Mother Maya's to send a mission to the Eastern Kingdom, to bring our faith to those who had none, confused in the sea of the local deities that were lost to time." Her eyes grew unfocused, her mind grasping for an account that was now a distant memory. "We were attacked by the Gerien tribe. They were angry, as most were at our presence. Little did we know how foolish our attempt to impose our faith in the Great Mother was in this anarchic place. The Easterners do not want faith; they deal only in blood."

  Talas squeezed her hand, when her throat threatened to close with emotion. His knees must have been bothering him; he got up and sat next to her on the broken column, still holding her hand as he did so.

  "You and the rest of the Order of Arms did their best to defend us. When you all fell though, we in the Order of Knowledge were overwhelmed quickly in the main tent. It was a massacre." Olivia shuddered but kept going, anxious to get the words out in the hopes of never having to relive the horrid story again. "After the fight, I was taken prisoner along with just a couple of other men. They were slain shortly after we returned to the tribe's tents. I was made into a slave of the tepet's, a handmaiden of sorts."

  "I was treated fairly and after a year had passed even began to form a friendship with Gerien's tepet. Sadly, Gerien was attacked by Simza, a much larger and stronger tribe, over water rights. My Tepet was slaughtered along with the rest of her family. The remnants of the Gerien sulta were absorbed into Simza after her death, including me. Indirectly, I became a free woman. A man named Adraim, a scout from Simza, took me under his wing and taught me his trade. We became good friends, and I even introduced him to his wife. In time, I went my own way though, seeking hire in Tammat as a scout to visiting Illyanders. I've been a scout on my own for about eight years now."

  "When did you and Damon meet up again?" Talas asked, a little confused.

  "Oh, that." Olivia's brows furrowed and anger briefly flashed across her face. "I met up with Damon about three years after the initial attack on the mission. When I left Simza and journeyed to Tammat, I had hoped to use the money I had earned to return home. I sought out a trading ship to purchase passage across the sea. The Isabella was in port, and I remembered it was the vessel that had brought us to the Eastern Kingdom in the first place. It was then that Damon told me you had turned your back on the Temple for a mercenary's life. I was so angry that I decided then and there that I would stay. I told him if he ever saw you again to just say I was dead."

  "I didn't turn my back on the Temple, Olivia," Talas retorted more harshly than he had intended. Olivia removed her hands from his, shocked at his vehemence. "They turned their back on you! Mother Maya refused go back across the sea after our mission failed so horribly. I begged her to go back, and she refused. She turned her back on you, so I turned my back on them. My faith was shaken but not entirely lost. I just buried it under the lies that I told people. If someone asked about my past or how I learned to fight, I'd just say I had been in the King's Army." Gabriel cried out in his sleep. Olivia shot her husband a hot look, and Talas lowered his voice, thankfully; the priest's passionate words were likely the reason the baby was distressed. He continued more quietly. "I worked as a mercenary, yes, to gain enough coin to come get you myself. I, too, sought out The Isabella for passage across the Sea of Twylight. When Damon told me you were dead, I was lost. I wandered Illyander without purpose, only the need to eat driving me to seek hire when my coin ran out. Then, things changed. Through the Her will, I met Jared and Sasha on a trade caravan. The Great Mother called me when the time came. She knew me still a loyal servant in my heart."

  "How did you just set your faith aside like that, Talas?" Olivia responded in a harsh whisper, her face troubled.

  "The same way you did, my love," He replied in kind. She scowled at him, his words biting. "How is your life as a scout for hire here any different from mine as a mercenary?"

  Olivia opened her mouth to reply, but shut it just as quickly. He is right, she thought. Damn him, he is right. How many years have I denied our being together with the foolish, hot-headed decisions of my youth? She let out a deep breath, as did Talas, relieving some of the built up tension. They faced forward and stared at the flames of the fire, thinking over what had been said.

  "The Mother still lives in both of us," Talas whispered after a little while, turning to Olivia and taking her hands back in his. She did not resist him, and leaned into his shoulder, a tired sigh on her lips. "I believe it is the Great Mother's doing that led me to the twins and their divine work," he continued. "Through them, we found each other again. Trust me, I believe." Olivia wrapped her arms around his waist. Talas hugged her back, holding her closely and kissing her black, gray-streaked hair.

  "I love you, Talas," she whispered into his chest.

  "And I, you," he replied and gently pulled her face up. He kissed her soft lips. As Olivia raised her hands to place them on his jaw, her fingers caught on the chain around his neck, pulling it loose. Olivia stared wide-eyed at the plain band, strung on the necklace. Their wedding band, she thought. Her breath caught as she delicately touched the silver ring with her fingers.

  "You... kept... it," she said, the utterance light on her tongue, more of an exhalation of breath than spoken word. The happiness she felt a moment before died suddenly, as shame took hold of the feeling and threw it in a ditch. She retracted from her husband.

  "I... I don't have mine anymore," Olivia said, tears gliding down her cheeks, her emotions overflowing. Talas, very gently, took her hands in his once more. She reluctantly looked up at him.

  "We can get you a new one, if you want," he said, his blue eyes full of meaning. As if a warm wave had washed over her, Olivia felt cleansed of her shame. All the pain, all the fear she had felt over the last fifteen years melted away in that instant. As Talas wiped away her tears, a genuine radiant smile formed on her lips.

  "Yes," she said. "YES!" She pulled him towards her and kissed him passionately. Talas returned her embrace with all his heart. When they eventually parted, Olivia unfastened the chain from her husband's neck, slid the ring off, and placed it back on his finger.

  The man and wife held each other tightly, as if fate would try to tear them apart once more. They sat intertwined, staring into the flames of the fire, until dawn's light heralded a new day, rising in a myriad of reds and oranges on the horizon like a phoenix in rebirth.

  Chapter 7

  Jared pulled the cloth of his head wrap tighter across his nose and mouth. The wind, even as slight as it was, was kicking up enough sand to play havoc with his sense of smell, not that there were many scents here in the deep desert. It had been several days since he had seen another living person besides his companions. He scanned the darkening sky, eyes squinting against the still bright sun as it touched the horizon. Soon the glowing orb would dip below the edge of the world, ushering in the cold night of the Aishe Desert. Olivia had told him that in the ancient Eastern tongue Aishe meant “alive.” Jared had scoffed at first, thinking of the desert as a wasteland, devoid of anything but sand and scoured stone. However, as the days had passed, the hunter was astonished at the myriad of life, both animal and plant, that thrived in the Aishe. He once again wondered about the life his father had led here in the Eastern Kingdom and what kind of woman his mother must have been to cause him to follow her to Illyander.

  Motion drew his eye and he saw a set of distinctive pointed wings. Standing fully, the hunter stepped out from behind the shelter of the half-crumbled wall, raising his hand. The woodsman sent out a gentle mental summons and the animal shifted its path, folding its wings to fall into a dive. As it plummeted towards him, Jared controlled his instinct to seek cover, instead holding his forearm higher up in front of him. The kestrel snapped its wings out, slowing its rapid de
scent and then kicked its tail feathers forward causing it to rise slightly at the last moment to alight gingerly on Jared’s offered wrist. As the raptors powerful talons fastened onto the hunter’s arm, Jared was glad he had wrapped his forearm in leather. The kestrel’s sharp claws could have easily penetrated the woodman’s flesh, even just perching on Jared’s arm.

  Jared pulled a small piece of dried meat out of a pouch at his belt and offered it to the raptor. The kestrel greedily snatched the morsel from the hunter’s hand, throwing back its head and swallowing the treat whole. Jared resisted the urge to stroke the bird as it returned its gaze to him. This was no pet or animal trained for falconry.

  The hunter relaxed, staring into the kestrel’s wide circular eyes. The bird turned its head in a surprisingly human-like gesture, maybe hoping to get a better look at Jared. The hunter reached out with his mind, feeling talons grip his forearm more tightly, but the raptor did not reject his contact. Jared sent an image of another piece of dried meat being gulped down by the bird and the pressure on the hunter’s arm lessened. Hunting had been scarce in the area and Jared was relying on the bird’s hunger to coerce it into helping him. Despite the hunter having had to lure the kestrel initially with a piece of salted jerky so that he could get close enough to speak to it, the bird had been surprisingly cooperative once Jared had promised it a steady supply of meat.

  As the hunter sent and received images over the course of several minutes, he was able to get the information he and his companions needed. Jared fed the kestrel again and then thanked it for its help before breaking off contact. The bird flew into the air, seeking its nest in one of the few tall columns that remained standing in the ruins where the Illyanders had made their camp the previous day.

  “Well, what did he have to say?” Olivia asked, startling Jared. The woman was deathly quiet when she wanted to be. Sneaking up on the hunter was no easy task. Luckily, she had waited until he had broken off contact with the kestrel. Disturbing Jared while he spoke to an animal could have had disastrous consequences.