Blooded (Lisen of Solsta Book 3)

by D. Hart St. Martin

  He picked up his inconsolable daughter and hugged her close. It felt like she wanted to climb into his chest where he could absorb her essence into his own. Upending her, he offered her the teat, thinking she might want to suckle, but she rather willfully turned her head away and continued to scream. She had never been one to cry like this, and although she was teething, she’d never reacted to that in this manner either. A little fussiness was about all she’d ever shown.

  He brought her back up onto his shoulder and bounced her a little as he took the four steps or so from one side of his chamber to the other. He had finally calmed her down to hiccup-like little gasps of unhappiness when Hozia stepped in.

  “I could hear her all the way up at the top of the mesa,” the Elder announced.

  “No, you couldn’t,” Korin said, continuing to walk Rinli back and forth as he and Hozia visited.

  “All right, then, at least one level up.”

  “That, I believe.”

  Hozia took a deep breath. “You’re coming with us.”

  “Do you think I’d stay here? This is my war more than anyone else’s.”

  “Because you have a stake in both sides. Which is why there are many who specifically do not want you to come.”

  “You know why I’m coming.”

  “Prophecy. I know. And I’m not telling you not to come, just that it’s going to be difficult, and that no one’s going to do anything to make it easier for you. Except me. I’m riding with you. I’ve been assigned an important mission by the Elders, and you and Rinli are going to help me complete it.”

  Korin stopped pacing in the middle of the room and looked at Hozia. Rinli had quieted down considerably since Hozia’s arrival. “Mission? What mission?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that. I’ve probably said too much already. But it gives me the excuse to ride with the army as a neutral observer, so to speak.”

  “What do I take for a baby?” Korin asked, voicing his frustration.

  “How could I know?”

  Korin sighed. “How could anybody know?”

  “Take whatever you can think of, I suppose, and then improvise.”

  “I’m going to do it this time.”

  “You’re going to find a way to get to the most well-guarded individual in the enemy’s camp and then tell her about her child?”

  “I know,” Korin replied. “But I have to believe that if this little girl is the fulfillment of prophecy, then prophecy will find a way to fulfill itself.”

  “A noble vow. I will do whatever I can to help.”

  “Thank you. Now, I have clothes, wipers, swaddling towels and my own gear. Can you think of anything I’ve missed?”

  “Other than your milk, what is she going to eat?”

  “I have that figured out, but you don’t want to know.”

  Hozia chuckled. “They won’t loosen that rope you’ve tied around your neck, you know, just because you’re still nursing. They’re going to see a parent with a baby in their midst as a careless waste of your skills.”

  “They’ve always known I wouldn’t fight. I’ve been left out of every planning session because of that.”

  “No. You’ve been left out because they think you’re a Garlan spy. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Of course they think I’m a spy.” Korin smiled wistfully. “I am, in a way. I’m also the one who just might be able to pull them out of the fire they’re about to start.”

  “Well, if you’re going to save us all, you’d best finish packing. We’re moving out at sundown.”

  “I’ll be ready,” Korin replied and watched Hozia leave.

  He felt the weight of fate upon his shoulders shift in response to his decision to follow the path before him. Rinli had ceased crying and, in fact, had begun talking to him in her private baby language. He understood the essence of what she said, if not the words themselves. She, too, was ready now.

  “I’m taking you to your mother, little one. A gift from me to you both.”

  She giggled as he snuffled into her neck and then settled her into the sling. He hefted his pack over his shoulder and started to leave, but he stopped at the door and looked back. He’d left this chamber once before not knowing if he’d ever return. He’d been much younger then, even though it had only been seven years ago. And yet, he had come back, under circumstances he never could have predicted. This time he thought he might, but who knew where Mantar would lead him and the Child of Its prophecy.

  But, never one to linger over uncertainties, he shook his head to clear it of distraction, stepped out into the hall and decisively headed down to the stables.

  As the carriage bounced around, Nalin and Lisen, sitting on opposite benches, held on to keep from getting bounced onto the floor. Nalin looked at Lisen, and he laughed when she made a silly face back at him.

  “Well, at least we’re nearly there,” he said and smiled as she laughed in response.

  “Hope I don’t damage a kidney before we stop.”

  She spoke in Garlan, but what she said implied a knowledge about anatomy that Nalin knew nothing about. Another one of those things from that other world, he thought and resumed the conversation they’d begun before the road had become so bumpy.

  “So, as I was saying, Tanres and her people will establish a vantage point on the top of a hill on this side of the plain.”

  “Yes, yes, I know,” she said, dismissing him.

  “No, this is important.”

  “Everything’s important.”

  The coach had slowed down, so Nalin was able to sit back on his bench. “You’re distracted.”

  “I’m about to put thousands of lives at risk, and you’re calling me distracted?”

  “Well, are you?”

  Lisen crossed her arms over her chest and harrumphed loudly. She started to speak, stopped, and tried again. “I sent Kopol on a mission the day before we left. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “What mission?”

  She waved her hand in front of her face signaling another dismissal. He didn’t like it. What was so important and yet so private that she couldn’t confide even it in him? Did it have something to do with Korin?

  “Lisen?” he said softly, hoping to focus her attention.

  “I promise. I’ll tell you all about it if it works out.”

  He considered his responses. He could cajole, he could plead, he could ask nicely, or he could let it go. He’d celebrated her tenacity in the past. What should he do now?

  “Something with Rosarel?” This made the best sense to him—send Captain Kopol over the Rim to…to what?

  “No.” She shook her head vehemently. “Nothing like that.”

  Was her denial an overreaction? Or was she merely forcing him to face the truth?

  “So,” he said, deciding it best to move on, “Tanres and her people will claim their hill, they will determine whether or not the Thristans are already here, and they will map out the plain. If we get there soon enough this afternoon, we’ll have a few hours of daylight left, and we should be able to begin our planning in earnest tonight.”

  “Good. And if the Thristans aren’t here yet?”

  “Don’t you remember? Two guards from Pass Garrison have been stationed to wait on this side of the Pass. As soon as the first Thristans poke their heads through, the guards will let us know.”

  “So they’ll arrive ahead of the Thristans.”

  “Yes.” Nalin nodded and wished he could read her. This “mission” of Captain Kopol’s and the mystery surrounding it plagued him. She had her own plan and no one to back her up. He’d have to question Kopol as soon as she got back. He was sure the captain would tell him what Lisen wouldn’t.

  The carriage stopped without warning, and Lisen nearly ended up in his lap.

  “Sergeant?” Nalin yelled up at the driver.

  “Appears we’ve arrived, my lord. But don’t get out yet. The commander is signaling that you and the Empir should stay where you are unt
il they set up the command tent.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant,” Nalin replied and raised an eyebrow. “All that in a gesture. Hmm.”

  Lisen smiled and shrugged. “Prearranged perhaps?” she whispered back.

  “They probably want to secure the perimeter before exposing you.”

  “Some days I wonder what the Destroyer I’m doing here. My life started out so simple. Now it’s all complicated.”

  Nalin reached out and touched her knee. “You think too much.”

  “Well, so do you.”

  “It’s strange,” he found himself saying, “but while I was healing, and in so much pain, and taking the cilla nectar constantly, I stopped thinking. I mean, I was able to surface to attend to the most serious matters, but then I’d stop thinking again. I didn’t have the energy or the will.”

  “I never stopped thinking while my hands and mind were bound. I worried about you. I worried about Lorain taking charge if you were dead. I worried about everything that had been left undone at home.”

  Nalin nodded, considering an appropriate response. “I never forgot the stakes, believe me. I just didn’t care about them when I didn’t need to, that’s all.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “Of course you didn’t.”

  They sat in silence, the noises from outside intruding into the stillness in which they’d cloaked themselves. Nalin’s discomfort intensified as the waiting wore on. Lisen had fought against these preparations—not aloud, but he had watched her soul struggle with the necessity. Now with others, she’d been the first to urge definitive moves towards this confrontation. She’d sat with the lowliest of the volunteers and encouraged them with the optimism she wore like a constant uniform, but she’d return to her office strained and worn from the effort. Young and more ignorant than any Empir had a right to be, she possessed no defenses in navigating inequities.

  The carriage door burst open, and the commander stuck her head in.

  “May I come in?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Lisen replied and slid over in her seat to make room.

  “The tents are going up,” Tanres informed them. “The seamsters did an excellent job on yours, my Liege. Multiple chambers with fine tapestry panels dividing them. You should feel like you’re at home.”

  “And yet,” Lisen replied in a monotone, “not quite.”

  The commander looked to Nalin, but he could only shrug. He hoped for a quick conclusion because, like his Empir, he possessed no fondness in his heart for war either.

  Riding into the camp with the cavalry behind her, Bala smiled at the progress the others had made in the few days they’d been here ahead of her. Everything had been laid out for maximum efficiency—several circles of tents surrounding communal fire pits, a couple of hastily built paddocks off to one side, and the main tent, presumably for the Empir and her advisors, on a slight rise with its standard of Ilazer green and gold flying over it. Now, she, Malaki and Captain Palla had brought the horses to populate the paddocks, and they could consider their march a success.

  “They’re over there!” she shouted to her companions, and she pointed in the direction of the Empir’s tent. All three kicked their horses into a trot, and when they reached the tent, they dismounted and handed their mounts off to a sergeant. Bala’s heart soared with excitement—not for the soldiers and the thrill of battle. She had little use for killing anyone for any reason. No, her enthusiasm rose from missing Nalin and knowing that only a few seconds more separated them.

  Captain Palla held the door flap open and allowed Bala and Malaki to enter first. Light entered from the openings created by rolled-up flaps all around the main room in the tent, so it took no time for her eyes to adjust. Everyone sitting and standing around the table—the commander and several Guard officers along with some of the nobles who had led their own people in the first wave with the Empir and Nalin—looked up as the three stepped in. Nalin smiled broadly at her, and she went directly to him. He moved his leg from the chair to his right, and she sat down and took his hand.

  “Your journey was uneventful?” Commander Tanres asked of Palla. After briefly locking eyes with Nalin, Bala looked up.

  “The captain is an admirable leader,” she said. “For the record, Commander, he kept us moving at a brisk pace, and we arrived, as scheduled, without a single incident.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” the captain said.

  “Shall we continue?” the Empir asked, and Bala noted that Lisen, who stood at the end of the table, one arm folded over her chest, the other hand tapping her lips, looked tired and tight. The stress did wear on the one who made the decisions.

  The commander cleared her throat. “I’ve been going over our map of the plain, my lords. Our surveyor studied the area as best she could without revealing her presence and has completed this detailed depiction of our likely battlefield.” Tanres pointed to the multiple scrolls of paper rolled out and pinned to the large rectangular table that had been built here from native wood. The map covered nearly all of it.

  “Impressive,” Malaki commented.

  “We will use this to plan our initial strategy,” the commander explained, “and then, after reconfiguring for outcomes, we will regroup and plan again.”

  “So, what is our initial strategy?” Melanda Cabell asked. “I see hills and trees and large rocks, but I see no hint of a strategy.”

  “Melanda,” Nalin responded, “we only just got this thing laid out on the table. Let’s give the commander and her people some time to study it, all right?”

  “Then why are we here?”

  Melanda, Bala thought. Just let it be.

  Nalin sighed. “We wanted our battalion commanders to see what we’re working on.”

  “We should have something in place by tomorrow,” Tanres continued.

  “And then we’ll call you all back to discuss it,” the Empir said. “I’d prefer a consensus if I can get one. Or at least something that resembles a consensus.”

  “Dismissed,” the commander ordered, and her officers, including Captain Palla, turned and left.

  “Well, let us know, Nal,” Malaki said. “Now I’m going to go check on my volunteers. Melanda, Sirin, Laro?” All three nobles looked at Malaki, and after a moment of hesitation, they headed out behind him. That left Bala at the table with the Empir, the commander and Nalin.

  “It’s a beautiful map, commander,” Bala said, admiring the meticulous crafting of detail. “How accurate do we think it is? I mean, given the constraints on your surveyor.”

  “From my observations, it’s about as close as you can get without actually walking the entire plain.”

  “And, no Thristans yet?”

  Lisen sat down at the head of the table. “We’ve had sighters on the east. No sign yet.”

  “Nor have we heard from the guards stationed on this side of the Pass,” Nalin added.

  “Right,” Bala replied. “Well,” she continued with a laugh, “I may not know what you’re doing, but it looks to me like you’re doing it fairly well.”

  “We’re only pretending we know what we’re doing,” Lisen said, leaning into the table and speaking conspiratorially.

  Bala looked to the commander, then Nalin and finally at the map. “Well, you seem to be doing a very good job of it.”

  “Commander,” Lisen continued, “don’t you have something to take care of in the camp? I know I’d like to lie down for a while. You two can manage alone, can’t you?”

  It wasn’t subtle, but Bala appreciated this gift of time with Nalin. After the commander had headed outside and Lisen had slipped behind one of the hanging tapestries that divided the large tent into several rooms, Bala pulled her chair up closer to Nalin.

  “It was a long ride,” she said softly.

  “It’s been a long time without you,” he replied, touching her cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  She reached up and touched his sparse whiskers, then pulled away. �
��I’m filthy.”

  “We’re all filthy.” Nalin laughed. “It’s not like there’s a nice heated bath anywhere nearby.”

  “No?” She feigned surprise, eyes wide open, mouth open with lips pursed into an “o.”

  “No,” he said and slapped her leg. “And I have at least a dozen urgent pieces of business to see to.”

  “You want me to help?”

  He shook his head. “No. You go get settled. Your tent is right next door.”

  She leaned in to him and luxuriated in a full kiss on the lips for several seconds. Then she pulled away. “I’ll just do that.” She rose and started to leave.

  “Oh,” he said, “I hope you don’t mind. You’re sharing with Commander Tanres.”

  She whirled back. “The commander?” She feigned insult.

  “It was the best way to keep you close,” he said by way of an apology.

  “No, that’s perfect. Of course, she’ll be up before sunrise, barking orders around, while I’m still trying to sleep. But no. No.” She held up a hand. “I’m all right. I’ll survive. Don’t worry about me.” She winked and departed, hoping she’d left him wishing she’d stayed.

  Standing in what others euphemistically referred to as “the Empir’s tent,” Lisen felt lost. They’d just finished a planning session in the main room with the new arrivals and then had left her alone until dinner, and she wanted to cry. She’d turned nineteen yesterday, but no one had remembered. It seemed strange to her that everyone would forget their Empir’s outcoming day, but they had. This wasn’t at all what she’d pictured when her mother—the mother who had pouched her, mind—had told her who she was. She couldn’t recall what she’d thought, but this wasn’t it.