Rise (War Witch Book 1)

by Cain S. Latrani

  Untar considered that for a moment. "I'm inclined to agree, however, one of the perks of being a king is that I get to attend, and bear no responsibility if it goes badly. That said, let me know when and where, and I'll be there to toast, eat, and lay blame when it all goes wrong."

  Chara glared up at him. "Not helpful, your majesty."

  "Leena, clear my calendar for tomorrow, won't you," he said to his aide before tossing Chara a grin. "Sometimes, a wise ruler lets his people make a mistake, just so he can be there to help them up after the fall."

  "I'm not sure if I respect you more, or less, for that," she muttered.

  To her surprise, he laughed and patted her on the head. "Either will do, as long you're honest about it, my friend."

  Spotting Ramora returning, Leto waved them all to silence. "Tomorrow, in the grand ballroom. Bring a gift."

  Esteban and Sabra exchanged a look of doubt, while Tanna frowned slightly. They just hoped this didn't go badly and open old wounds the warrior wasn't ready to deal with.

  As afternoon crept into evening, Ramora was packing her armor away, double checking the straps in case they needed oiling. Tugging off the heavy cotton shirt, she folded it up, planning to toss it on the armor. Taking a whiff, she decided it could do with a visit to the laundry. Tia was a dear about that, giving the Blessed full service.

  "Ramora?"

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Sabra hovering by the doors to the training room, looking a bit nervous. That made her frown. Anything that made an Ogre nervous could only be bad. Giving her a wave, she watched the woman join her, casting about to insure they were alone.

  "I don't mean to bother you,” Sabra started. "I know we don't really talk much, but there's something I feel like I need to tell you, so I'm hoping you won't be mad or anything."

  Ramora cocked an eyebrow. An Ogre, nervous, and worried about upsetting a human? Had the world ended and no one told her?

  "It's about Chara and Leto, actually," the Blessed of Verea said, looking more uncomfortable by the moment, while sending a chill down Ramora's spine. "They're up to something, and I just feel like it isn't right."

  No way, she thought. It can't be. Chara would never betray Esteban like that. Whatever Sabra thought, it had to be wrong.

  "Okay, I'm just going to come out and say it," the Ogre sighed, rubbing the back of her head in anxiety. "They know tomorrow is your birthday, and they're planning a surprise party."

  Relief warred with anger for a moment, until anger won out. Sabra recoiled slightly, seeing the look that crossed her face.

  "Hold up now, before you go do something rash," she said. "They're coming from a good place, but I didn't think it right they spring it on you, what with all that happened back when you were a kid."

  The look of horror that crossed the Blessed of Ramor's face told Sabra she'd made a mistake. Obviously, that wasn't something the other woman wanted everyone to know about.

  "I get that you’re pissed, and you got a right to be," she said quickly, moving to block Ramora as she started to lurch forward. "But I think it was your Ascended who spilled that can of beans, so don't hold that against them."

  Fuming silently, Ramora vowed to have a chat with Talbor about personal boundaries. That was not something for him to be sharing with everyone. Scowling, she nodded, and tried to push past Sabra, only to find the Ogre blocking her again.

  "Listen, you need to get why they want to do this," she said, holding the smaller human in place easily. "It may be stupid, and clumsy, but they're trying to do something kind."

  Ramora waved that off. She didn't care why they were doing it! What difference did that make? They couldn't begin to imagine the horrors she'd seen, the suffering and pain that came with this one damn day! To the Hells with them and their good intentions!

  "They just want to say how glad they are you were born," Sabra told her.

  Ramora stilled, staring at her in surprise.

  "For Chara, especially, I can get why this is important, you know?" Sabra told her slowly as the warrior eased back from her a step. "I mean, from what I've gotten, she'd probably be dead if weren't for you. Esteban, too. They sure wouldn't be together. You may see it as a reminder of all you've lost, but for them, it's about all they've gained, because of you."

  Her temper subsiding slightly, Ramora found she hadn't thought of it that way before. While it was traditional among most human cultures to treat a person’s birthday as a celebration not just of their life, but of all the lives they'd touched, she'd long forgotten how to think of herself as human.

  "I speak only for myself now," the Ogre said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "But I'm thankful for your life as well. It is not my people’s way to be open with others, but I need you to know, I consider you a friend. Like everyone else, I'm thankful you were born, live, and are a part of my life."

  Sagging slightly, her anger fading to nothing, Ramora reached up and clutched the Ogre’s hand, giving it a squeeze. She'd become lost in her own sorrow, the nightmare that was her memory, and had forgotten how to simply be thankful she lived, much less how to take joy in others being glad for the same. Her mother would've been disappointed in her for that.

  Still, Talbor was getting his fuzzy tail kicked.

  Giving the Ogre a soft smile, Ramora nodded.

  "Good," Sabra grinned. "Among Ogres, surprise parties are something you don't do. Someone might get an axe to the face, you know. So, I figured, you kind of act like an Ogre sometimes, you should probably be warned."

  She wasn't sure if she should take that as a compliment or not, but gave the other woman a nod of thanks and moved to go have a word with her little family. She only got a couple of steps before she paused, and headed back to collect her sword, hefting it with a dark grin.

  "Oh, yeah, totally scare the shit out of them," Sabra nodded. "They deserve that."

  Laughing silently, Ramora patted her on the shoulder as she headed out, leaving the Ogre feeling somewhat better about the whole thing. It wasn't the way of her people to stick their nose into others’ business, but as well-meaning as their friends were, she couldn't help but see this as an unpleasant surprise for the warrior she'd grown to respect.

  Ramora fought like an Ogre, with no quarter asked, and none given. Sabra couldn't wait to wade into battle at her side, for she was certain, her people would sing songs of their glory for ages to come. As an Ogre, there was nothing more worthy, and as a child of the Beserker God, Morobon, there was no higher calling. Nor as a Blessed of Verea could she stand by and do nothing that might bring pain to another.

  Now, at least, she felt she could stand at her fellow warrior’s side, with a clear conscious, and do her Gods proud.

  "You know, I really like how Tia puts a touch of cinnamon in her coffee," Chara said, sipping the hot drink with a smile.

  Esteban nodded. "She puts a dollop of vanilla cream in mine."

  "She could probably just do a coffee shop and be wealthy," Chara grinned.

  "Yes, but then who would take care of us?" Esteban replied.

  Across the room, Tia flushed and fussed, bustling about so as not to look like she'd overheard. The wide smile on her face told all, though, making the other patrons of the inn chuckle at her.

  The front door slammed open and Ramora stormed through, her greatsword in hand. She paused at the staircase, leveling the Heavensteel blade on her two companions as they sat, mugs to their lips, staring back at her wide-eyed. Her message clear, the Blessed of Ramor stalked up the steps.

  "She knows," Chara whimpered.

  “Yup." Esteban nodded.

  "We're so dead," she cried.

  "No, just you," he snickered. "I wanted no part in this to start with."

  Indignant, Chara reminded him, "Hey! We're a couple! We stand together, and we fall together!"

  Esteban shrugged. "Normally, yes, but in the face of an enraged Blessed of Ramor, I can say that it won't be me sleeping on the floor should I go down with you for this."
/>
  Startled, Chara stared at him pathetically for a moment, then sank into her chair and sulked. "Fine time for you to grow a pair."

  "I bided my time, beloved," he smirked.

  Upstairs, Ramora stomped down the hallway to Leto's room, banging on the door with the hilt of her sword. When he opened it, and saw the massive weapon in her hand, he knew the cat was out of the bag, so to speak. Her outraged expression probably should’ve tipped him off as well, but the sword worked better.

  "Okay, I know you're angry," he started.

  Ramora shoved him back into his room, kicking the door shut as she followed him in. He knew enough of her sign language to get what she said after that.

  "I didn't have a right, I know," he admitted, holding his hands up. "I just want you to know, I am sorry."

  Ramora rolled her eyes, waving her sword around. He didn't need to know sign language to understand that.

  "I just wanted you to have a good memory," he told her, dropping his hands to stare at the floor. "You have so many bad ones, it seems unfair. Someone like you deserves some happiness. We aren't your family, and I know that, but for one day, we can try to stand in their place, and tell the Gods we're thankful they brought your soul into this world."

  Ramora stared at him, trying her best to hold on to her mock anger. Sabra had defused her nicely, but the words Leto spoke, they filled her with warmth.

  "Forgive me, please," he said. "Don't hold the others accountable. This was me. Perhaps it was selfish, but I wanted to see you smile, on the anniversary of such a horrific event. If I could do that, then maybe I could push the darkness from your heart, even a little. You've earned that."

  Setting her sword aside, she shook her head. How could she deny such a kind wish? Each of them, old friends and new, reaching out to her, trying their best to wipe away some small fragment of the nightmare. It was more than kind, and as a Priestess, she should've seen that without having to be told.

  "I promise, we won't do anything you don't want to do," Leto assured her. "But I hope you'll forgive us all if we want to share our thanks with you, and Heaven, that you're part of our lives."

  Ramora held a hand up, trying to silence him.

  "Ramora, please, just hear me out," he pressed.

  She held a hand up again, finally getting him to fall silent as he gave her a sad look and sagged. Silly man, she thought, it's hard to kiss you when you won't shut up.

  Stepping closer to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up, finding his lips, tasting them, and savored it. Leto stood stock still for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as he returned the kiss.

  "So, wait," he stammered when she pulled back. "You're not mad?"

  Ramora kissed him again, long, deep, and with all the passion she felt in her heart for this kind, gentle, sweet man, who’d longed only to bring her a smile on the day she'd long marked to bear remembrance for the worst event of her life. The bitter ache she had carried since that day felt lighter as he held her, and for that, she was beyond thankful.

  Pulling away, she steadied herself, catching her breath, his kiss beyond anything she'd dreamed of. As he looked down at her, eyes bright with the goodness he carried in his soul, she knew she was ready.

  I only have one thing I want for this day, she told him, then touched his chest.

  Leto tried to find a way to respond to that without sounding stupid. He couldn't, so he kissed her again. Together, they tumbled onto his bed, losing themselves in each other.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  CHARA GLARED AT THE DOOR to Ramora's room. Knocking again, she waited, desperation growing in her heart. Her friend had never come back downstairs, taken dinner, or even shown her face to either she or Esteban after her warning to them. Worse, Leto hadn't made an appearance, either. She was certain they'd fought, even more certain Ramora had cried herself to sleep, and even now, lay there, sad and alone.

  She just couldn't bear it. After all she'd done for the young woman, she simply couldn't leave it be. Ramora was more than her friend, and she needed to make this right, comfort her, and be the friend she didn't always manage to be. She felt as if her soul was tearing as the door refused to open, the woman on the other side ignoring her.

  "This is bad," she said.

  "I told you not to do it," Esteban huffed.

  Chara shook her head in dismay. "I never thought she would react like this!"

  "How would you've reacted, in her place?" the big Cat asked.

  Thumping her forehead against the door, Chara felt like she was about to cry. "I am such an idiot."

  Esteban managed not to agree with her on that. "Perhaps we would do better to check in with Leto, and leave Ramora be for now. She will come to us when she's ready."

  "Yeah," she groaned. "Now that it's too damn late."

  Tugging her along, he headed down the hall, pausing outside Leto's room to give the door a solid rap. After a moment, when he didn't answer, Chara's face filled with terror.

  "Oh, Gods, she killed him."

  Esteban gave her an irked look. "I doubt she was that angry."

  "She had her sword!" Chara reminded him. "Oh, Gods, she probably didn't even mean to! What do we do?"

  "Not panic?" he suggested.

  Hesitant, she tried the doorknob, and found it locked. "Oh, no. She ripped into him, and now he's in there all sad, probably drunk, feeling like a jerk. At least he's not dead."

  "Where do you get these ideas from?" her lover asked in surprise.

  Chara gave him a glare. "Well, what else would it be?"

  Esteban stared at her, face neutral. "I can't imagine."

  "Okay, you're going to have to break the lock," she said after a moment, nodding to herself.

  "Me?" he gasped. "Why?"

  Chara slumped in dismay. "Well, cause I'm not strong enough, and I don't want to shoot it open. Just, turn it really hard. Come on. We need to make sure he's okay."

  "You've got to be kidding," he argued.

  "I'm not!" she snapped. "Just open the door. Please?"

  Vexed beyond words, Esteban sighed, looked to the Heavens for guidance, and grabbed the doorknob, giving it a solid yank. He could hear the lock shatter as it rolled it over and waved Chara to go ahead.

  "Thank you, sweetheart," she said.

  "Always a pleasure to violate the law for you, love," he muttered.

  Giving him a snide look, she pushed the door open and stepped into Leto's room, words of condolence already forming on her lips. They died there, too, as she stared at Ramora and the Blessed of Grannax lying curled up together, the morning sun coming in the window striking them, giving them a golden glow.

  "Oh, well, fuck," she stammered.

  "I'd say that was likely," Esteban sighed. He took her by the arm, attempting to drag her away.

  She was deceptively strong as she refused to move, her mind whirling a mile a minute, trying to figure out what had led to this. As she gaped, Ramora stirred, looked up at her and blinked a few times, cocking an eyebrow.

  "You aren't crying alone in your room, sad and depressed," Chara shouted, pointing a finger at her as if it were an accusation.

  Ramora stared at her, baffled. Leto stretched, yawned, and looked up, spotting the indignant Chara and humiliated Esteban, standing in his door. For some reason.

  "Uh," he managed.

  "And you," Chara snapped, finger traveling to him. "You aren't drunk, or dead!"

  Leto rubbed his eyes. "Um, sorry?"

  Ramora sank down, pulling the sheet up as she silently groaned in embarrassment. Esteban kept tugging fruitlessly on Chara's arm. Leto looked around, confused. Chara broke out in a brilliant smile.

  "Happy birthday!" she shrieked.

  Covering her face, Ramora tried to hide her laughter. Typical Chara.

  "Beloved, maybe we should go?" Esteban suggested, tugging at her.

  "Hang on," she shushed, grinning at the two. "So, what did you guys do last night?"

&n
bsp; Ramora snorted as Leto fumbled about. "Well, um, you see, we, uh, that is, it's um..."

  "Wow," Chara said in wonderment. "It's true. Blond boys are dumb, too."

  Esteban thought about bodily removing her. Leto shrugged and gave a goofy smile. Ramora threw a pillow, hitting her friend square in the face.

  "Yeah, yeah, I got it," she snickered. "You two, take your time. We'll meet you at the castle later. Since Leto already gave you his birthday present, it's only fair the rest of us get to as well. So, you know."

  Ramora gave an embarrassed wave as Esteban finally succeeded in dragging his lover from the room. Pulling the door closed behind them, he sagged in the hallway for a moment, then glared at her.

  "What?" she asked.

  "How could you not have figured out what was going on?" he demanded. "I got it! Me!"

  Chara took an indignant stance. "You could probably smell it or something. I didn't see any clues that would've told me what happened."

  "Really?" he gaped. "She's not answered her door, his room is locked, and you aren't seeing any giant, screaming hints that they were... indisposed?"

  "Nope," she shot back. "I was too worried about her well-being."

  "Her well-being looked plenty tended to me," he snapped.

  "Now as we know that," Chara replied, waving a hand to dismiss the whole matter. "We should be going. We'll be late."

  Esteban fumed silently a moment. "You are impossible."

  "Just remember that, sweetheart, and everything will be fine," she replied.

  Inside the room, Ramora had to wonder if they knew she and Leto could hear every word they were saying. Rolling her eyes over to Leto, she saw him giving the door a quizzical look, and tried to smile a little. He just shook his head and laughed.

  "Now and then, I forget that you three really have a sort of special relationship," he said as he laid back.

  Ramora gave a little shrug. That was one way to describe it, she guessed. She would've gone with intrusive, maybe humiliating, but she supposed special worked too.