And they would get what they wanted. It was imminent. Kael had spoken of Arcastus waking. If there was any truth to his claims then they would be in for a fight beyond anything Tanispa had faced in centuries. Not since the war against the Ven’shal during Queen Nalashi’s reign. Leyna couldn’t imagine what a fight of that degree would be like. Her experience with war only stretched to her knowledge of fighting the Namirens and Sanarik in the mountains of Siscal. The Ven’shal would pose a far greater threat than Namorea ever could.
Even worse, there had been no word from Zander. No one had seen or heard from him since before Leyna and Thade left for Mialan nearly two months ago. Whatever Oksuva and Damir were up to, there was no way to know. Leyna feared Zander to be dead. If anything happened to him, she knew the guilt would eat away at her for leaving him with those monsters alone.
Slowly Leyna stepped out the front door of her house, instantly blocked by the guard standing firm in her path. Her crutch was battered. Pieces of the wood were splintered from the fight against Kael’s men, making it difficult to maintain her weight over it. Cautious of her safety the guard lightly held her arm, helping to act as support. “I am not leaving,” she stated calmly, noticing the disapproving look in the guard’s eyes. “I just want to see the road by the Consul’s home.”
“You shouldn’t be seen outdoors, Milady. You know the orders of the Consul and Lord Diah.”
“I am tired of the scenery inside. There is little to entertain within the four walls of my room. I only ask for a moment. A brief breath of fresh air to cleanse the dust from my nose.”
Begrudgingly the man released her arm, making no move to step away. The heavy plate armor covering his body looked awkward and uncomfortable. Leyna sympathized for him. He would be stationed outside her door for the remainder of the night until his relief came in the morning. She shuddered to think of how miserable such a job must be.
For over a week Leyna had kept watch for Thade’s carriage to return. There had been no time frame given for his trip. Feolan expected him to be gone for no less than a month, the Queen requiring his assistance in preparations for the funeral and mourning process. Thade would need to accept her visitors on her behalf while she grieved in solitude. Leyna’s heart ached for him to return. She was lost without him. No one to go to when she felt she would be driven insane from the nightmares. Maeri and Feolan had moved into their home, offering her to come stay with them if she would be more comfortable around people, but she couldn’t bring herself to accept the invitation. They were newlyweds and would be wanting their time alone together. She had burdened them all quite enough over the years.
A clattering of horse’s hooves in the distance caught Leyna’s attention, moving closer to the quiet little neighborhood. The sky was already darkened for the night, rain pouring down from above, residents inside their homes tucked in for bed. Whoever was approaching was coming quickly, already near the path leading to where she was standing outside her house. She recognized the familiar face of Zander, disheveled from the wind and water blowing through his hair. Excited to see him alive she waved her hands to get his attention, not wanting to make too much noise in fear of disrupting the quiet of the neighborhood. Noticing her there, Zander called out for the horse to stop, rearing back with a loud whinny before settling irritably under his command. “Leyna,” he breathed, dismounting in a single leap from the horse’s back. “Is the Consul home? I must speak with him immediately.”
“Zander,” she started to speak, realizing it was possible Zander had not heard of the news. “The Consul has been gone for over a week. He had to return Prince Enaes’s body to the Queen.”
“Body?” he blinked. “So it is true. What happened?”
“Kael assassinated the Prince. Things have been an absolute mess.”
Scanning the area, Zander seemed to take note of the house behind Leyna for the first time since his arrival. With a sharp glance at the guard he gave an inquisitive look in Leyna’s direction. “Is this where you stay now? If so, then we should go inside. I have no way of knowing if I was followed.”
“I’m supposed to be indoors anyway,” she muttered. Motioning toward the door she signaled him to go inside, lingering behind only long enough to catch the displeasure on the guard’s face before stepping into the house, closing the door to leave the man outside. “Zander, you look like something is troubling you. We have been worried, not knowing where you have been.”
“We have been on the western coast of Tanispa for over a month now,” he sighed, flopping down tiredly on the old settee in her front room. His whole body relaxed into the worn cushions. Exhausted. “It is worse than we thought. Damir was successful. Arcastus lives. We are looking at the start of a war that I’m not sure we can win. And if they see me, they will kill me. Just like they did to Oksuva.”
“Oksuva is dead?” Leyna gasped. Through the surprise in her voice, she realized it was no great shock to her. Damir was not the kind of person to tolerate an outside partner. He was using her for the amulet. Once she handed it over to him, he no longer had any need for her. “What about Gislan? Did she escape?”
“They had no reason to kill her. She required nothing from them out of the deal other than to be guaranteed safety during the war. They let her live under the stipulation that once they won, she was to disappear so they wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore. Me, however, they took issue with simply because I am Vor’shai.”
“What made them think you would be any issue?”
“Arcastus wanted the blood of a Vor’shai in order to seal the ritual which bound his spirit back to his body. I think they suspected I might disagree with that.”
Leyna limped around the room, settling herself in the tiny wooden chair situated in front of a small desk near the front. Thoughtfully, she leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “And I suppose Kael is too far gone to fit that requirement?”
“Kael is the one they sent to bring back the blood. They wanted someone of importance to the Vor’shai people. He insisted he could bring them the blood of Prince Enaes. How could Damir and Arcastus turn that down?” Zander shook his head. “When Kael returned, I didn’t expect him to have actually done it. I mean – to kill the Prince? A part of me wanted to believe Kael maintained some semblance of the loyalty he once held for his people. I suppose I hoped he was playing some game with them. But if Enaes is dead…” a grimace passed over his features at the thought. “My god, Leyna. Do you realize what this means?”
“It means a lot of things. To start, Arcastus will be gathering his strength now and there is nothing we can do about it. Secondly, our Prince is dead. Queen Vorsila has but a single heir left to maintain the throne while at the same time she is on the brink of war. Our people have taken a hard hit and Arcastus will take advantage of that to strike us while we are down.”
Zander was quiet for a minute, letting everything sink in. She couldn’t imagine what he had been through over the past few weeks. What he had witnessed. Things were falling apart around them. For so long, they’d had the whole thing in control, prepared for a fight against Mikel and Oksuva. With Damir in the picture, it changed everything. He was impossible to predict. They couldn’t know what he was planning to do next. And with Arcastus awake, it would only get worse.
“But what can we do?” he frowned. “Our job was to prevent this from happening. I was confident we’d succeed. My plans didn’t extend into how to handle failure.”
“You saw the ritual. Maybe that will hold an answer. What of the amulet? Can you tell me anything about that?”
Heaving a sigh, Zander rose from the settee. He looked tired. His eyes drooped from fatigue. Little of the sparkle remained in them, once so optimistic over the thought of beating Damir at his own game. “I know it is important enough that they keep it under constant watch,” he explained. “Kyros had imitations made of it. One of them carries the real one while the others hold the forgeries. It served as the source of power – almost like a condu
it of energy – for the ritual. Their guard over it would lead me to believe it still holds significance to Arcastus’s strength. The problem would be determining which one is real, and how to get it from them.”
“But would Damir trust anyone else to protect the real amulet?”
“He has to,” Zander shrugged. “For Damir to wear it would be too obvious. It would be expected.”
“Or maybe he assumes we would think it too obvious and therefore kept it for himself.”
“Possible, I suppose. But I think he gives his enemies more credit than that. Damir is well aware of the fact that the Vor’shai are not fools. They beat the Ven’shal once before. One misstep on his part, and they could beat them again.”
Leyna watched as Zander took a step, preparing to begin a slow pace across the room but stopping, too tired to put forth the effort. “Who then would be the least obvious choice? I would say whoever was the weakest amongst them, but Damir wouldn’t risk that. If the weak link was discovered, it would be taken too easily.”
“It must be Kyros or Kael.”
She stared back at him in confusion. Kael? How could he not be the weakest of the group? He was still in the process of falling to insanity. Any link he still had with the Vor’shai would make him a threat. “You place Kael at a higher rank than Oran? He seems so weak in comparison. I would have expected him to be the bottom of the barrel.”
“If you think about it, Kael has the potential to become as great a threat to us as Damir.” Zander moved over to the settee to casually rest his hand against the back of it. “A fallen Vor’shai has knowledge of the way our magic works, as well as the way of the Ven’shal sorcery. They have manipulated the energy in the same ways that we have, and therefore would be more capable of countering it. That energy never leaves them, it just gets distorted. Damir has even shown signs that a Vor’shai using their sorcery can bypass some of the negative effects Ven’shal magic is said to carry. It has always been destructive to the life around it, drawing the energy from the planet itself, stealing it, using it up. Damir has demonstrated a skill and control with the magic which disproves that.”
“So Kael’s familiarity with our ways makes him more of a threat?”
“In more ways than you can imagine,” he frowned. “His familiarity with us – you and I – and the Consul as well. He will be more prepared.”
Leaning on her crutch, Leyna returned to her feet. She couldn’t sit still. It was so infuriating! Their own friend and ally turned against them. Murdered their Prince. He worked with the very forces that intended to destroy their entire race. The same race he once swore to protect. To think that she had thought to marry him! He fell too quickly for her to catch, and it hurt to know that she might have been able to help him. If he would have just let her. But he didn’t want to be saved. Not enough to fight back on his own.
“What will you do now, then?” she asked quietly. “Without being able to watch them, we are removed from any further knowledge of their plans. They know where you live – they could come for you at any time.”
“They could come for you as well. And they intend to, I’m sure.” He gazed toward the window, distracted by something in his mind. “I need to find a way to help our cause that will keep me out of their sights,” he nodded. “The military has seemed a viable option. Not here in Siscal, but in Tanispa. If they will accept me. But what about you? I would think it would be harder for a lady of the court to just disappear.”
“Yes,” Leyna sighed. He was right. The thought crossed her mind on many occasions over the past few weeks. Until she was healed, the military was out. And to simply leave, even to rejoin the military in Siscal, would draw unwanted attention from Queen Nesperiti. Possibly spark her ire. Nesperiti had been gracious in extending a court position to her. To throw it away so soon would come across as an insult. The Siscalian Queen preferred to keep her nobles and soldiers separate. “I have a responsibility here and until I can find a means of escaping it without destroying my reputation, I am stuck.”
He couldn’t argue. Politics were much too dangerous to play games with when it came to positions under a king or queen. “Very well then,” he said calmly. “If the Consul is gone, then I believe it is safe to assume that Feolan is acting in his stead for the time being? I should speak with him before I leave for Tanispa. Perhaps I could request he put in a good word for you about a leave of absence from the court here.”
“That will not be necessary. However, if you are looking to speak with him, he and Maeri have moved into a house not far from here. The one with the large tree in the front, about a block away.”
“They moved in together?”
“Well, that is what husbands and wives tend to do after they are married,” she chuckled.
The look on Zander’s face was priceless. His jaw hung open, staring at her in shock. “Married? When did they get married?”
They moved closer to the door while speaking, Zander’s expression remaining fixed in awe. “Not long ago. Be sure to give your congratulations to them. They are the new Mr. and Mrs. Feolan Diah, now.”
“I should have known she would find someone like him,” Zander smiled, shaking his head in mild disappointment. “If she had remained available until the war was over, I might have pursued her myself.”
A twinge of jealousy caused Leyna to cringe at his words. Men loved a well-trained lady. Maeri was the epitome of what men wanted in women. Beautiful, smart, delicate – in need of protection. Maeri had been brought up to nurture, not to fight. Why would a man have need of a woman who could take care of herself? It challenged their masculinity.
In the back of her mind she pondered what her life would have been like if she’d conducted herself in the same way as Maeri. The men would have taken a greater interest, but her days would have been less fulfilling. She preferred to leave her mark on the world with her deeds rather than fend off the affections of every man on the court. That said something for her. After all, the Prince had sought her to be his wife. How many ladies could say that?
“Well, she is not available, so it looks like you might have to keep your eyes open for someone else.”
“What about you, Leyna?” he flashed her a charming grin. “We could have dinner before I become a military man.”
Opening the door, she rolled her eyes at him. “Goodbye, Zander,” she chuckled, tapping the door with her hand to signal him out. “Keep in touch. Maybe we will see each other again soon.”
“Your loss,” he shrugged nonchalantly. Pulling his shoulders back, he moved past Leyna through the door, strutting proudly out to his horse. “The offer stands in case you change your mind.”
“I don’t think I will.”
“That is unfortunate, Milady,” he gazed at her, the smile fading from his lips. “All joking aside, I do wish things could be different. It has been a pleasure working by your side these past years. You are possibly the strongest woman I have ever had the honor of meeting.”
His tone was serious. Like a final goodbye from someone who expects to never be seen again. He was going off to war. Reality had a harsher sting than she was comfortable with, recognizing for the first time that it was possible he might die on the battlefield. They all could. This war had so much more riding on it than the fight against the Namiren army. Her people stood to lose everything.
Words didn’t feel appropriate at that moment. What could you possibly say to someone you might never see again? Farewell seemed empty. Impersonal. Silence was all she could manage without fear of tearing up. She scolded herself quietly. You are getting soft. Next you will start weeping like the other girls at Faustine’s.
Modestly bowing her head, she sank into a graceful curtsy, favoring her injured leg. She was grateful for the cover of her skirt to hide the awkwardness of her movements. As he climbed up onto his horse, Leyna couldn’t bear to watch him leave. She couldn’t think it might be the last time she would see him. He was a strong fighter. He would make a great soldier, and they would
arise victorious over the Ven’shal the way they had before.
Leyna toyed with the end of her crutch, admiring the carving work she’d taken for granted in it all the other times she looked at it. The doctor assured her the bone was healing fine. She would need to be careful not to do anything too strenuous, but the walking device was no longer necessary for her to get around.
It had been several days since she heard any news from Feolan. Zander wasted no time in getting out of Siscal, and with good reason, knowing Damir would come looking for him. Zander was a risk to Damir and the others. He’d witnessed the return of Arcastus. It seemed sloppy work to her that they let him get away.
Maeri came by to check on her every day. She and Feolan worried about the way she sat around the house, alone, lost in thought over the impending war. They feared she would blame herself somehow. To that point, she still refused to discuss the events in the chapel garden that day. There was no need to unleash her feelings on her friends when they already had so much on their minds. Her guilt was better dealt with alone, where no one else had to know the way it ate away at her. Blaming herself for Enaes’s death.
She jumped at the unexpected knock on her door, nearly dropping the crutch on the ground. Maeri. Her visit was later today than usual. She tended to come at midday, bringing food to make sure Leyna was eating properly. The sun had already begun to sink to usher in the coming of evening and Maeri had not yet come. Something must have delayed her.
Rising up from the settee, she slowly made her way over to the door, hesitant to put much weight on her healing leg. It was still sore to use, but the improvement was significant from the pain which hindered her in the past few weeks. Just to be free of the crutch was a wonder in itself.
She opened the door, her normal greeting for Maeri prepared, lips curled up in a forced smile, hiding her troubled thoughts. Before she could open her mouth to speak, her eyes blinked in surprise at Feolan’s face there at her door instead of Maeri’s, his expression solemn and drawn. “Feolan,” she breathed. “I thought you were Maeri.”
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 77
