Faldon looked back at Justan and Justan nodded back at him. “I see. It’s that bonding magic. My son was explaining it to me earlier. Listen, while we are on the subject, I understand that you have a bonded in the academy right now working with my wife.”
“Yes, Willum is there with her,” Coal said.
“Okay, listen, this is very important. The next time you speak with him, tell him not to tell anyone other than Darlan that we are coming. Whoever the spy or spies in the school are, they have the means to communicate with the mastermind behind this siege.”
“They have been operating under that assumption already,” Coal replied.
“Good, tell them that what they are looking for are moonrat eyes,” Faldon explained. “The mother of the moonrats uses them to communicate with members of her army.”
“Father, what are you talking about? That’s Ewzad Vriil’s army,” Justan said.
Faldon explained how they had discovered the role of the moonrats in Ewzad’s army. Justan listened mouth open as Faldon described Jhonate’s battle with the witch and their subsequent encounters with her traps.
“So this witch is coordinating everything,” Justan said in understanding.
“That’s what keeps the army from falling apart,” Coal said.
“Exactly,” Faldon said. “Let’s hurry on and meet up with the others. Between our two groups and Captain Demetrius, we may have all the information we need to understand this puzzle.”
“Indeed,” Coal said. “I’ll ride back and let Sir Lance know what the plan is.”
“Did you say Sir Lance?” Faldon asked.
“Yes,” Justan said.
“That old terror is still alive?” Faldon laughed. “He was one of my teachers when I went through the academy. Tough as nails and a pain in the butt.”
“Well, he hasn’t changed,” Coal said. “But the Sampo people asked him to be their representative so we have to deal with him.”
Faldon sighed. “I’m not looking forward to dealing with him again, but I guess it can’t be helped.”
Master Coal turned Samson around to leave. “Edge, you may want to return Gwyrtha to her proper size. This is her first time being that large. With practice, she can hold it indefinitely, but until that time if she maintains the changes too long, she will tire out.”
I like being big, Gwyrtha protested, but as Samson ran back towards the center of the refugees, Justan did what Coal asked.
“Amazing,” Faldon said in surprise as she shrank to her regular size. “No one told me anything about that.”
“It’s something new,” Justan said. “I just recently learned about it myself.”
They started down the trail, Fist walking right behind them.
“Tell me more, son,” Faldon said. “I want to hear everything you’ve been up to.”
“Well, alright.” Justan started from the beginning and told him everything that had happened; from his ride to the Mage School and bonding with Gwyrtha, to his naming, to the fight with Kenn and the way the Scralag came out of his chest to freeze the bandham. Faldon listened in rapt attention, exclaiming appreciatively at times.
Seeing his father’s reaction to the story surprised him. Looking back, he was really quite proud of what he had accomplished. But while everything was going on, he had just been reacting the way he felt best at the time.
“So how much further is it?” Justan asked once he had finished his story.
“Not much further. Just around the next hill I think.”
“So, uh, father,” Justan cleared his throat. “How is Jhonate?”
Faldon smiled. “She is doing quite well. Partially in thanks to the ring you gave her.”
“It works?” Justan asked, though he immediately felt stupid for asking after what he had learned about his mother. “Of course it works.”
“It’s been protecting her in battle this whole time,” Faldon said. “She was quite perplexed when she learned that it was magic.”
Justan raised a hand to his forehead. “Oh . . . she’s going to kill me.”
Faldon laughed and gave him a calculating look. “Actually I think she’ll be quite happy to see you. She asks about you often.”
“Really?” Justan said with a smile.
“Yes. She keeps asking even though I haven’t had any new information since the siege began. She-.” He shut his mouth as if reconsidering what he had been about to say. “I just think she’ll be glad to see you is all.”
The haze of camp fires appeared on the horizon and soon Justan heard the sounds of men. As they rounded the corner of the hill, the sprawling camps came into view. The two armies were camped close together, but Justan could see a clear delineation between the two.
Both camps were orderly, but Captain Demetrius’ men wore uniforms and their tents were standard Dremald garrison issue. Faldon’s soldiers wore mostly farming clothes and their tents were a mis-mash of old academy tents and shelters the people had cobbled together on their own.
They rode through the camp, Faldon introducing Justan to various people as they passed by. Everyone gave Gwyrtha a wide berth, many of them looking quite frightened. Justan saw a few faces that were vaguely familiar, mainly old colleagues of his fathers, but it wasn’t until they neared the command tent that Justan saw the person he was looking for.
Jhonate watched him approach, her Jharro staff clutched in one hand. She looked much like she had on the day they met. She wore her leather breastplate and her black hair was interwoven with those green ribbons that matched the color of her piercing eyes.
Justan dismounted and walked towards her. All peripheral sights and sounds faded. He saw only Jhonate. The expression on her face was hard to translate. He couldn’t tell if she was truly happy to see him or if there was a hint of fear. But as he approached, he saw the beautiful smile from his memories begin to form on her lips and his heart hammered in his chest.
Somewhere to his left came a squeal that jolted his attention away for just a brief moment. He turned just in time to see a flash of blond hair and blue eyes speeding towards him. Then soft curves slammed against his body and a pair of arms were thrown around his chest. Justan’s nose was filled with the scent of flowers as Vannya’s plump lips wrapped around his in a deep kiss.
Chapter Twenty
Justan froze, his arms held to the side, helpless against Vannya’s ardent attack. His brain screamed at him that something was wrong, but his body wouldn’t move. The sensation was so nice and his enhanced senses made it even more intoxicating. It was all he had dreamed a kiss with Vannya might be, all softness and sweetness. But Jhonate-
Justan’s hands finally found Vannya’s shoulders and pushed her back. Her lips left his and his eyes darted around but Jhonate had disappeared. All around him people were staring, the men jealous, the women amused.
He held the mage at arm’s length. “V-vannya! Wh . . . what was that?”
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted. She was breathing heavy and her eyes looked slightly confused. It was unfair how gorgeous she was. “I saw you and I didn’t know-. I didn’t expect you to be here and I-I was just so happy that I . . . overreacted.”
“Y-you think?” Justan said in frustration. She bit her lip and tears began to well up in her eyes. He could have punched himself. He didn’t want to hurt her again. This wasn’t a dream. This was a nightmare. He hugged her. “Vannya, I’m sorry. I am happy to see you too, I just . . . didn’t expect you to kiss me.”
It didn’t help. She pushed back from him and ran off between the tents, her shoulders trembling. The stares around him turned into head shaking.
“I can’t believe she did that. I don’t envy you one bit, Sir Edge,” said a man standing next to him.
Justan turned in surprise. “Professor Locksher! You’re here too? Is anyone else from the Mage School with you?”
The wizard shook his head. “No. Vannya and I came up to Reneul on our own to investigate your frost rune and we got caught
up in everything else.”
Justan’s hand went to his chest. “About my frost rune, it’s-.” He looked around, uncomfortable with so many people around. “I would like to talk to you about that later in private.”
Faldon walked up to them. “Son, what was that about?”
“I don’t know, father. That was . . . out of nowhere,” Justan said, his face red, “And now Jhonate is gone. Do you know where she went?”
The two older men looked at each other and Faldon said, “She may have gone back to the student tents that way. Um . . . good luck with those two.”
“What do you mean?” Justan asked.
Justan these people fear me. Gwyrtha came up and shoved her head between Justan and Faldon.
Locksher jumped, then a smile spread across his face and he raised one eyebrow in interest. “Amazing! This is your rogue horse, isn’t it? Valtrek told me about your bond.”
“Uh, yes. Her name is Gwyrtha,” Justan said, rubbing her head comfortingly. It’s okay sweetie. “And she is a bit uncomfortable with all the looks she’s getting.”
Some commotion broke out behind them and Justan felt Fist’s distress. He looked back to see the ogre standing with his arms raised defensively as a group of angry men wearing forest garb surrounded him. They were shouting and cursing, telling him to pull his mace and fight. One man drew his sword. Another poked at him with a spear.
“Hey! Stop!” Faldon shouted and he and Justan rushed towards them. The spearman’s jab had caused a small wound on Fist’s chest and he began to bleed, but the ogre refused to pull his weapon. The swordsman drew back his sword.
Tamboor arrived before they did.
The silent warrior felled the swordsman with one swift elbow to the temple. The man lay still on the ground and Tamboor grabbed the spearman by the hair. He yanked the man’s head down to meet his upthrust knee. There was a loud crack and the spearman collapsed motionless at the other man’s side.
The other men backed away, babbling, “Tamboor the Fearless, Sir!” “We were just-!” “We saw the ogre and-!” Tamboor silenced them with a piercing glare.
“Tamboor!” Fist said, his arms opened wide, and the warrior walked in for a fierce hug.
The men looked at each other with shocked expressions. Faldon walked up to them, his face twisted with anger.
“Listen up! Take those two to the infirmary tent and wake them up. Then I want you to spread the word. That ogre is a family friend. He is on our side in this war. I don’t care what you think of him or any of our new allies. I want them treated with respect.”
The men nodded and fell over each other in their haste to drag the two unconscious men away.
Faldon turned to Justan with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, son. These men have been fighting the goblinoid army for weeks. Some of them have seen family members killed by ogres.”
“I know, father. It will be a tough adjustment for some people,” Justan said. “But I am sure that when they get to know him, they won’t be able to help but like him. Just . . . Can you give me just a minute?”
He closed his eyes and checked out Fist’s wound. It wasn’t too bad, but the spear had pierced about a half inch into his muscle. Justan quickly closed the wound.
Fist barely reacted other than to send a quick thank you through the bond. He was busy chatting away at Tamboor, telling him of their journey. Tamboor stood with arms folded, nodding occasionally, but not once did a smile touch his lips.
“That’s the closest thing to a regular conversation I have seen him have with anyone but his son,” Faldon said. “What were you doing just now?”
“Oh, I was healing Fist,” Justan said. “Where is Zambon by the way?”
“He’s out with our dwarf ‘guides’ trying to find the entrance to the crevasse. Did you say healing?”
“Yes, but I can only heal my bonded. It’s kind of complicated.”
“Huh,” Faldon said. “What you really should be doing is looking for Jhonate.”
Justan winced. “I know. I’m afraid to talk to her after what Vannya did.”
“I should warn you right now. Those girls haven’t been getting along.”
Justan moaned. “Considering what just happened, maybe I should stay here with Fist and Gwyrtha.”
“I’ll keep them with me, don’t worry. Go. See her,” Faldon said sternly.
“Yes, sir,” Justan headed in the direction his father pointed.
“Oh, uh, what about your . . . uh, Deathclaw?”
Justan looked up at the cliff face high above them. “He’ll take care of himself.”
Justan made his way past multiple rows of tents looking for a group that were standard academy issue. The problem was that a lot of them were. When people retired from the academy they were allowed to take their things with them and it looked like a lot of them had taken good care of their old equipment. He stopped and scratched his head, looking around.
“This camp is huge,” he grumped. “Yeah father, point a finger. That really helps.”
Finally, he stopped and spoke to a short, but powerfully built man that was hunched over, pounding in a tent stake. “Excuse me. Do you know where the tents of Faldon the Fierce’s academy students are?”
“You’re kidding, right?” said the man and as he turned to face him, Justan recognized him at once.
“Jobar da Org!” Justan said with a smile. “Good to see you.”
Jobar stood and faced him but he didn’t smile. “Oh. There you are. Faldon the Fierce said they were going to see if they could track you down.”
“Yeah, well we just arrived. I’m looking for Jhonate. Have you seen her?”
“She lets you call her that?” Jobar asked in surprise.
“Yes,” Justan said his smile fading. There was something about Jobar’s attitude he didn’t like. “Can you tell me where she is?”
“Maybe.” Jobar looked him up and down. “You’ve, uh, grown since the last time I saw you.”
“It’s been nearly two years since our arena fight,” Justan said.
“Huh. Well I’ll tell you what. If I know her, and I think I know her pretty well. There’s only a couple places she’d be in the camp this time of day. Come on, I’ll take you to her,” Jobar said and walked towards the center of their spread out camp.
Justan wondered what Jobar meant by knowing her ‘pretty well’. Was he trying to say that they were in some sort of relationship? Surely not. Jhonate wouldn’t take up with the likes of Jobar da Org, would she? Then again it had been a long time and Justan really had no idea what kind of man Jobar was. They had only had that one fight after all.
Justan soon knew where it was Jobar was leading him. An area of the camp had been cleared off for sparring and weapons practice. Jhonate was in one corner of the area squaring off against a young man with red hair and a freckled face.
The man carried a wooded practice sword and shield and he was quite skilled. He was holding his own against her pretty well, but Jhonate was attacking with such ferocity that he could do nothing but block and back away. Justan had a sinking feeling that her anger was directed at him.
“Hey, they could be a while,” Jobar said. “What do you say we have a sparring match of our own? Hand-to-hand. Like last time.”
“Not right now, Jobar, thanks. I just want to talk with Jhonate. I can wait.”
Jobar grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, come on, kid. It’ll be fun. Let’s see how much you’ve improved.”
Justan reached back and grabbed Jobar’s wrist with his right hand. Slowly he turned to face him and lifted the man’s hand off his shoulder. “You can call me Sir Edge, Jobar. And I might take you up on that offer some time. But not now. Thank you for helping me find her.”
He dropped Jobar’s hand and left the man standing there with a mixed look of anger and shame. Justan strode across the practice area towards a piece of canvas that had been laid out and covered with a bunch of wooden practice weapons. He picked through them until he found two swor
ds that were of a similar weight and balance, then watched Jhonate’s fight. It took a few minutes, but her exhausted opponent finally made a mistake.
The red haired man brought his shield up a little too high. She swung the end of her staff up under it knocking the shield even higher, then lashed out with her foot, kicking him in the abdomen. He hunched over and she whacked him on the head with a solid blow that certainly looked more harsh than necessary.
“”You did well, Poz,” she said as he crouched and groaned rubbing the top of his head. “Though you were a bit careless at the end. Get up. We shall try again.”
“Wait, Jhonate!” Justan said, and she whipped around to face him, an angry retort already forming on her lips. But when she saw who it was, her eyes widened in surprise and she took a step backwards. He walked towards her. “Sorry to interrupt your training. It’s just that when I came to greet you earlier I was, um, interrupted.”
The War of Stardeon (The Bowl of Souls) Page 30
