The Treason Blade (Battle for Alsaar Book 1)

by Keech, Jenny Rebecca

  He found it still disturbed him that there were times he could not sense her coming. She had an ability to slip in close to him with such ease and he, completely unaware. Traevyn frowned and looked back at the soldiers, then made his way down the line making final comments as he excused them back to the holding to report to Davaris. It was only as he sent the last man back that Ishar moved from her position and nudged Simi in his direction. The sun made her hair gleam and Traevyn looked down and sighed, then went to meet her.

  Ishar smiled as she reined back the mare. “Good morning, Traevyn. I trust you did not cut the exercise short on my account. I thought I was early.”

  “The men progress well. A few show great promise, but they have had enough from me this day. I have sent them on to Davaris’ tender mercy.”

  “Then you are free to ride?” she asked softly.

  Traevyn liked the sound of her asking. This soft gentleness in her voice he had heard of late whenever she spoke to him. His duties and, and the Hadwri rebuilding project Varyk had set into motion only a few days earlier, had found him hard pressed to fulfill his promise to take Ishar to the watchtowers. Not that Ishar had spent her time relaxed and unhurried. She had traded sword blows with Lysandr, worked with fighting daggers with Glyndwr, and thrown axes with Gavin, all the while setting time aside to speak to Varyk about their peoples’ future together. She had even spent time with Ber, learning more about pwuta blades. Traevyn wondered now, as he had many times of late, if she spoke so softly to the other men. Ishar fought hard and gave little. He had even seen a little admiration in Ber’s eyes after she had taken blow after blow and risen every time with the same determination to succeed at learning to manage the difficult movements needed to cut, slice and punch with the pwuta blades. Traevyn frowned at his memories. There was a feeling of uncertainty as to whether he liked this change in his fellow brothers. A reaction had begun to stir within him whenever he was around the others and saw they now watched Ishar with steady appreciation. That emotion was not one so easily recognized. He had rarely found himself jealous of any of his fellow Raanan warriors. Now on numerous occasions, Traevyn found himself looking for reasons to be close to her, to be a barrier between her and the others. This reaction disturbed him as much as the rising emotions that kept her on his mind.

  At his extended silence Ishar leaned her head sideways and watched him with the slightest frown. “Is that a yes or no?”

  Traevyn gave a short nod. “I am free to ride as soon as I saddle my horse and prepare some food for the outing.” His long legs strode quickly toward the holding with purpose.

  “You should go and saddle your horse,” Ishar said simply, coming up to ride beside him. She kept Simi to a walk as she kept pace. “I will see to the packing of a meal and meet you by the inner gate.”

  He glanced at her and gave the slightest nod. “As you wish.”

  They made their way into the holding and parted ways. Traevyn quickly saddled his gray gelding, Dahl, but by the time he came out, Ishar was already standing by the inner gate talking to Glyndwr. He saw a leather carrier slung over one side at the back of her saddle and several drink flasks were tied beside it. Traevyn tried not to frown as Glyndwr laughed out loud at a comment and moved close enough to place his hand on her shoulder. Traevyn fought the backlash of anger which made him grit his teeth. He took deep breaths as he approached them. “Ready?” He asked, brooding once more at his sudden flaring anger. Neither had done wrong.

  Ishar looked up and grinned. “Yes.” She seemed to take no notice of his aloof tone.

  “Ishar was just telling me about the first time her father took her hunting—” Glyndwr took in Traevyn’s grim look and his broad grin faltered ever so slightly. His hand slipped from Ishar’s shoulder and he stepped back. “It is funny,” he stated in a casual manner, “You should have her tell you about it some time.” Glyndwr’s blue eyes narrowed.

  Traevyn gave an abrupt nod. “We should be going,” he said rapidly, “if we do not want to arrive back in the dark.”

  Ishar gave him a surprised look at his gruffness but nodded goodbye to Glyndwr and moved toward Simi.

  Traevyn moved toward the gray to mount but Glyndwr grabbed his shoulder. Traevyn glanced back in irritation.

  “Ishar and I are friends, Traevyn,” Glyndwr muttered low under his breath. “There is nothing more.”

  Traevyn jaw was tight as he turned and looked ahead, past his friend. “And you tell me this why?”

  “So perhaps the next time you see me so close to her, I will not see the look of murder in your eyes that I just glimpsed as you walked toward us.” Glyndwr stepped close. “I am not your enemy, brother.” His words were spoken low into Traevyn’s ear. “And what is between you and Ishar is just that, between you and Ishar.”

  Traevyn’s gaze was fierce as he glared. “There is nothing between Ishar and me,” he spoke roughly.

  “Ah,” Glyndwr spoke softly. His voice lightened as he stepped back with a raised brow. “So that is the problem.”

  Traevyn’s eyes darkened and he all but growled, “There is no problem”

  Glyndwr backed again and held up his hands. “Of course not,” he said with a hint of laughter in his eyes. “I stand corrected. Enjoy your ride, brother, and consider trying something that is not normally within you.”

  “Which is?” Traevyn scowled.

  Glyndwr grinned. “Conversation.” The young warrior turned away and walked through the inner gate, chuckling to himself as he went.

  Traevyn mounted, still scowling.

  Ishar moved Simi up beside him. “What did Glyndwr want?”

  “A match with me,” Traevyn said shortly. Ishar blinked. Traevyn waved his hand. He took a deep breath. “Forgive me,” he said with a half smile. “Glyndwr was trying to be humorous and I did not find it funny. Do not let me take it out on you.”

  She smiled. “Do not worry. I will not.” It was said with a laugh as she tightened her heels to Simi’s side. The mare broke into a canter.

  They made their way out of the gate and headed east. It took a solid hour of steady riding before they came to the banks overlooking the ocean. To the right was positioned one of several watchtowers that dotted the coastline. They were now manned day and night whether they were finished or not. Varyk had decided he would take no chance of being surprised early by his enemy. Traevyn watched Ishar’s eyes roam the beaches as she took in the soldiers on patrol beneath the watchtower.

  “I see what you mean,” Ishar commented, “about constant vigilance. Are there always this many on a watch?”

  “This watchtower is finished. We are working on the Hadwri so there are more men here than would normally be present. A watchtower is usually manned by three men, two of whom continually keeping watch. If anything is sighted, a man can ride toward the holding in warning, but the fires may not be lit until one is certain it is the Tourna who are about to land. Once one tower lights its fire, the towers close by will see and light theirs. We intend to extend these farther with Wyn and your father’s help. This will help create an advance warning system for the whole island, but it is also why we must stress the fires be lit only after, in certainty. We do not want to create a panic.”

  Traevyn moved his horse farther north along the beach. Within a few minutes, they came upon the Hadwri.

  Ishar looked out over the water and the sloped depression of land that met it. “I can see why the Hadwri was built here. This area seems somehow naturally designed for the landing of a boat.”

  “It is easy to land many boats here without difficulty from the sea. That is why these defensive earthen works were first created: to give the people in the interior of the island a chance to make it to cover. Once the earthworks are rebuilt and manned with proficient soldiers, especially archers with fire arrows, the Tourna will pay a heavy price to gain this foothold they consider so easy a taking.”

  Ishar appeared to consider his words. She frowned. “You sound quite fierce, Traevyn, as if y
ou are ready for battle with these people.” She looked over the busy men before them and dismounted, then glanced back. “Why do you sound so ready to fight? You have seen only one Tourna landing here on Alsaar, yet you fight so fiercely for the independence of this island.” Ishar studied his expression. “I hear true hate when you speak of them. I feel that way, yes, but I have heard of the Tourna since nearly my first breath and prepared my entire life to deal with them. Why do you carry this hate for them in your heart?”

  Traevyn frowned. “One landing was enough to see of their inherent destructive desire to destroy. What else is there? Varyk chose to stay and so we prepare to fight these invaders.”

  Ishar frowned and shook her head at his words. “No. There is more in your voice than the readiness of a warrior to face an enemy. You truly hate these people.” She scowled. “Why do you hide this truth from me?”

  Traevyn was silent. He swung down from Dahl and moved up to the bank that overlooked the Hadwri. “It is the past. It is nothing that matters.”

  Ishar moved around her mare and touched his arm. “Everything matters. Our past affects how we shape our future. If we cannot understand what brought us to the point on which we now stand, how do we know in what direction to proceed?”

  Traevyn drew a ragged breath. He stared out over the water. The day was a fine one. The sun had all but burned away the haze and a sliver of the mainland, Megara, could be seen close to the horizon. Traevyn looked down and took another shaky breath. He felt the soft touch of Ishar’s fingers run along the sleeve of his arm and glanced up. Concern flickered in her eyes. It undid him and he spoke abruptly in anger as he turned to stare back across the water toward Megara. “We have no past, no present, and no future because of them,” he spat out. “They destroyed us. They took everything we were as a people away.”

  Ishar jerked back at his vehement words. She looked out over the ocean. “The Tourna?”

  He nodded with a jerk of his head and spoke quickly, as if in a rush to say what he felt he must. “We were once a people who inhabited an area to the east of the Tourna lands. Our people were nomadic. We loved and raised horses and roamed our native land for varying grazing areas with little trouble from enemies within our borders. The men of our people were warriors, renowned for their horsemanship skills in battle. Our women were beautiful creatures who gave us strong children and were courageous enough to defend our homes and children when we were not there to do so.”

  Ishar’s grip on his arm tightened and she stepped closer, her gaze now on him fully. Her eyes were watchful. “What happened?”

  Traevyn had never spoken of this to any outsider, not many of the Raanans had. The words were too painful. It was easier to live with the silence. Even now the words he sought were being choked by the tightness in his throat.

  Ishar took another step. Her other hand slipped to his shoulder. “Traevyn?” she asked, concern in her tone.

  The breath on his cheek was warm. The tightness loosened and Traevyn managed to speak. His voice sounded detached and resigned to what was coming even to his ears. “We had friends known as the Osguaru to the south of us. Their leader sent word of invaders along their southern border burning and pillaging villages. Since we were allies, our warriors went to give them aid. I was among those that went.”

  “And the Tourna?”

  Traevyn’s eyes flickered down to hers. “We faced minor skirmishes with them before this time. Enough of a fight, we thought, to let them know we would be a difficult people to overcome and not worth the price it would cost them. They had left us in peace, or so we had come to believe.” He tasted the bitterness the memories brought in the back of his mouth. “We were wrong.”

  There was a dawning look of horror upon Ishar’s face. “What happened?” she asked with the slightest tremor.

  He swallowed. “We had been with the Osguaru for two months and it was the evening before the morning of a serious raid when I was filled with the strangest desire to return home. I informed Varyk and the others but it was decided we had given our word and must honor it.” He shook his head. “So I ignored the feeling and went into battle. The raid was a success. The majority of the invaders were killed and the Osguaru lands were deemed safe enough for us to return. The Osguaru leader wanted to shower us with wealth and feasts but I could wait no longer and prepared to depart, if necessary, by myself. Varyk gave our regards and we headed for home.” Traevyn took a deep breath. “I thought I would kill my horse that day the way I rode, so deep was my conviction of despair. It must have infected the others because we all rode as if evil pursued us.” Pain burned the back of his throat as memories came flooding back. “But the evil was before us.”

  Ishar was silent and still, as if held too tightly between the urge to flee the coming horror and a desire to know the truth.

  Traevyn continued. “We could see the dark smoke fanning across the sky even before we entered our lands. We came upon the first of many camps.” He shook his head, his lungs squeezed tight by branded memories. His voice was hoarse as he continued. “They were burned to the ground. Bodies had been dishonored and burned, most beyond recognition. Each camp we came upon was the same. There was only death. We found no one alive,” he ground out viciously.

  Ishar took a step back at the violence in his voice. He could still feel her light touch on his arm.

  Traevyn continued. “There were loved ones dead and loved ones missing. We knew of only one group of people who would have dared do this butchery.”

  “The Tourna,” Ishar stated firmly and with growing anger. Traevyn watched her close her eyes to hide the pain he knew was reflected in his own.

  He nodded. “At later camps we found the bodies of slain Tourna men our woman had managed to kill, but no matter where we went, we found no Raanan people alive.” Traevyn took a step and turned from the view of the ocean. He felt Ishar turn with him, her fingers a constant reminder of her steady firmness to hear what he had to say. “We tended to the dead and mourned apart from each other. All had lost someone. Some when they found their relatives’ bodies lying in ruin on the ground. Those of us who found nothing mourned also because we knew these bodies had not been found because these were people the Tourna had taken as slaves to be sold,” he said with empty eyes.

  “At every camp, once the burying was done, we burned what little the Tourna had missed, what we could not carry with us. And when we had seen to our people, we turned our eyes on the Tourna. We set out after them, searching for any sign of Raanans who might still live, but the Tourna are crafty. They move their cargo fast, leaving warriors behind to face any threat. We came upon Tourna after Tourna but no Raanans.” Traevyn turned his burning gaze on Ishar. “Not one. After weeks of searching, we let our despair fade and anger grow. We decided if we could not find our people, we would let the Tourna know of our displeasure. In anger we set out and sought revenge.”

  “But there are so few,” Ishar stated, puzzled.

  Traevyn smiled but he knew there was no joy within its confines, only bitterness. “There were once many more of us. For several years we became a thorn the Tourna could not remove from their side. We killed and killed and showed no mercy. But no matter how many lives we took, there were still so many more of them.”

  Ishar shivered. “And you never found any of your people?”

  He shook his head, overcome by the sudden pain that rippled through him. “None alive. The Tourna must have sent many on their outgoing ships to other lands, but we have no idea where they might be. We are not shipbuilders. In the end we had to bury in our minds even those who might still be alive. Varyk was the first to realize that eventually the Tourna would hunt us to the ground. We were not enough to destroy them. They had worried our numbers down so we are as you see us: few in numbers and growing less with each battle.”

  Ishar frowned. “You are all that are left of your warriors?”

  Traevyn shook his head. “Some warriors disagreed with Varyk’s assessment and stayed in t
he Tourna lands, but they are more than likely dead by now. As we would be if we had stayed.”

  She stepped close once more. He saw the comfort in her eyes, in the way her hand brushed down his arm. “Why did you not return to your native lands?” Ishar asked.

  He sighed. “We could not bear to set foot on the lands that so reminded us of all that we had lost and we no longer had the numbers to secure our homeland, so we sought new lands and eventually came to this island. But even here the hand of the Tourna reaches to grasp and destroy.” Traevyn bent over and spit into the earth. He glanced back with weary but steady eyes. His voice was resolute as he continued. “I am tired of the Tourna taking and razing what they do not consider valuable. The people of this island have allowed our presence and given us a home. I will defend it with all I have in me. I will not be moved again. A stand must be made.” His voice tightened. “We must hold firm.”

  He knew the moment Ishar realized her left hand was rubbing up and down his arm. She abruptly removed it and stepped away. Traevyn could still feel the warmth. He turned and pointed back in the direction of the Hadwri, changing the subject to a lighter note to help to drive away the haunting memories. His voice still held a ragged edge. “The Hadwri would take only a month to rebuild with many people. However our resources are spread much thinner so this restoration may take slightly longer.”

  Ishar said nothing about the change in topic, only added, “If Varyk and my father work out a truce, I am certain he will send soldiers to aid you in whatever areas are needed, including ones such as these.”

  Traevyn took a deep cleansing breath. “We will need all the men—I mean, all the warriors your people can spare to deflect the brunt of the Tourna attack that will arrive here.”

  The mood had been lifted at his stumble of words. Ishar laughed and moved away from him and back to Simi’s side. “Does it still bother you that my people allow women to fight in battle.” She tilted her head as she glanced back. “Be honest.”