The Chosen: A Novella of the Elder Races

by Thea Harrison

  Let Varian stew for a few days over the disappearance of his mages and troops. In the meantime, Wulf wanted to conduct another campaign that was of the utmost importance.

  He returned her smile. “Yes, I would.”

  ~ 11 ~

  In many ways, it had been a grim day, but sparring with Wulf had made Lily feel a little bit better.

  That evening, he escorted her back to the abbey despite her insistence that it was not necessary and that the half a dozen people who accompanied her were more than enough of an escort.

  Halfway across the frozen strait, his gloved hand reached out and took hers. They walked the rest of the way hand in hand.

  Once they arrived at the bottom of the stairs at the dock, he tugged her around to face him and kissed her. And kissed her.

  And kissed her.

  As he pulled her hood up around them, it gave them a sense of privacy that simply wasn’t real, but she did appreciate the gesture.

  His lips were so warm, and she knew them so well. She had kissed them in a thousand dreams.

  As he drew back, she whispered, “If this is another advance communique to disseminate a new policy to a populace, I might smack you.”

  He gave her a shadowed grin. “No, love. This is me flirting again. Sleep well. I’ll see you soon.”

  With reluctance obvious in his body language, he finally let her go and headed back across the strait. She watched his strong, solitary figure for a while, then peeked around the edge of her hood at the Defenders who guarded the open doors.

  They stared straight ahead, expressions rigid. One particular Defender’s eyes bulged slightly, clearly from some kind of internalized pressure, while his psyche rolled around and laughed.

  Facing Margot had been difficult enough. Deciding she didn’t have to emerge from the depths of her hood if she didn’t want to, Lily hid from curious gazes as she hurried up to her tower where she slept like the dead the entire night.

  The next morning, before Lily’d had a chance to drink her first cup of tea, Gennita found her and said she and her husband had decided to stay. While the older woman was awkward, Lily could see that Gennita’s psyche had softened significantly, so she accepted the news gladly.

  A few hours later, after interviewing Dulcinda and Evie, she appointed Dulcinda as her second secretary, dumped the budget into her hands, and said, “Please come back to me with this pared down to the bare essentials. We’re going to hold on to as much coin as we can in case we need to buy more food before the next harvest.”

  “I’d be delighted to, your grace.”

  After delegating the budget to someone else, Lily felt like such a renegade she scooped up the rest of the requests for priestesses and put those on Prem’s desk.

  “I want your best recommendations for these,” she told Prem.

  “Yes, your grace!” Beaming at her, Prem got to work.

  Your grace. It made her feel so old. Just as she turned away, Estrella strode into the outer office. While the captain of the Defenders wore an entirely appropriate expression, her psyche was tinged red with anger as it glared at Lily.

  “Good morning, your grace,” Estrella said. “Your invader is here.”

  “My… invader.” With an effort, Lily forced herself to stop staring at the area over Estrella’s head.

  “Yes, your grace. You know, the one who killed his brother and burned farms and murdered families, then marched his army unasked onto our land and started kissing you. That one.”

  Breathing deeply, Lily rubbed her face. Calm, be calm.

  She told Estrella, “He didn’t kill his brother. The king of Guerlan did. He didn’t do any of the other things either. Well, he did march his army unasked onto our land, and… he did start kissing me. But the rest of it isn’t true.”

  Some of the anger in Estrella’s psyche faded. Frowning, she asked, “Are you sure?”

  “You know how good my truthsense is. Yes, I am.” She looked over her fingers at the captain. “What does he want?”

  “He has requested an audience with you. After yesterday, none of the Defenders are entirely sure how we’re supposed to respond to his presence. He walked across from the mainland by himself, so he doesn’t pose an immediate threat—”

  “Captain, he’s not a threat to us, not unless we do something stupid like endanger him or any of his men, and we’re not going to do that.” She drummed her fingers. “I have invited him to stay through winter solstice. The Braugnes are to be treated with courtesy and welcomed to our Masque. Please tell the townsfolk they are still welcome to stay at the abbey, but those who wish to return home may do so with my blessing.”

  The tension in Estrella’s shoulders eased. “Yes, your grace. I’ll see that word gets out to the evacuees. About the invad—about the Protector of Braugne. Shall I turn him away?”

  “No, please show him to my office.” As Estrella left, Lily looked at Prem and said, “He promised me flirting. This should be good.”

  Glee danced in Prem’s eyes. “Oh, your grace, that’s amazing. Do… do we welcome it?”

  “That depends entirely on what he does.” Shrugging, Lily walked back into her office and waited.

  She looked out the window until, behind her, Estrella said, “The Protector of Braugne, your grace.”

  Lily turned, but the words she had prepared in greeting died unspoken as Wulf strode across the room to her. He looked the same, a powerfully built, hardened man wearing armor, cloak, and sword, but in one hand he held a large bouquet of vivid red roses.

  For a moment the illusion held perfectly. She even caught a whiff of scent that smelled like roses. Then, as he drew closer and she stared, she realized the bouquet he held was made of the velvet roses from the shop he had broken into.

  Smiling, she held out her hands for them. “They’re beautiful—thank you. I swear I even smell roses.”

  “I sprinkled perfume on the blooms.” As he gave them to her, he bent in to steal a swift kiss. Warming with pleasure, she kissed him back.

  “I take it you added more money to the jar behind the counter.”

  Smiling faintly, he said, “Did you doubt me?”

  “Not at all.” She buried her face in the soft velvet blooms, inhaled with pleasure, then set them aside. “I also checked the shop yesterday afternoon when I returned to town. It was exactly as you had said. The coin has remained undisturbed. In fact, I think there was even more than what you originally put there.”

  “Of course.”

  Leaning back against her desk, she asked, “What can I do for you, Wulf?”

  “If you can spare an hour, I would like for you to give me a tour of the abbey. From all accounts I’ve read, it’s a beautiful place. I’d like to hear the things you love about it.”

  She lit up even further. “Let me get my cloak.”

  They walked through the grounds and the temple while they talked. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and she allowed it.

  Not everyone welcomed the sight of them together. While they were greeted with infallible politeness, the psyches of some glared at them with fear and hatred because people were people, and even though Wulfgar was not responsible for the violence that had come to Calles, it had still come because of his presence. And change was hard.

  At the end of the hour, they paused at the top of the steps that led to the dock. Looking down at her, his expression serious, he said, “It’s as beautiful as everyone said.”

  “I think so.” She frowned as she tried to gain clues about his change in mood. The wolf in his psyche had turned away from her, head down.

  Kissing her mouth and then her cheek, he told her, “I’ll see you soon.”

  When he left, he took the brightness out of the wintery day and what warmth there was with him. She watched him walk back to the mainland where a cadre of his soldiers stood vigil. Once he joined them, they moved away, back to the army camp.

  That set the pattern for the next few days. The next day whenWulf returned,
he brought ancient manuscripts.

  “Ooooh, the ancient manuscripts,” Lily said while she rubbed her hands together in delight. “Wait, those were supposed to be a bribe.”

  “They were not a bribe! They were a gift. You were just too afraid of me to accept them.”

  “I wasn’t afraid of you! I went into your army camp all by myself, didn’t I? It was the politics, the appearance of supporting one side over another.”

  He laughed. “Well, that ship has sailed, hasn’t it? Take them, love, and enjoy them with my welcome.”

  That ship had, indeed, sailed.

  “Thank you.” Smiling, she accepted the gift. “I will.”

  He always kissed her in greeting, and he never failed to kiss her when he left. It made her happy, but restless too. A hunger for him developed. It scratched at her underneath her skin and made her toss and turn at night.

  Once, she opened up the window with the broken latch just to glare down at the pitons that ran down the side of the tower and were clearly not used enough.

  Meanwhile, many of the townsfolk migrated back into town, and decorations began to appear. Calles was beautiful in midwinter, with the lights glowing in the houses and shops and brightly colored banners and ribbons festooning the doors and windows of every building.

  The abbey decorated for the holiday too. It was always such a deep pleasure to pull out with reverence the ornaments and decorations that were generations old. The Masque was a celebration of all the gods—those that were called the gods of the Elder Races on Earth—and not just Camael, so they set up representations for all seven.

  As god of the Dance, Taliesin always came first. Half male and half female, Taliesin was first among the Primal Powers because everything dances, the planets and all the stars, the other gods, the Elder Races, and humans. Dance is change, and the universe is constantly in motion.

  There was also Azrael, the god of Death; Inanna, the goddess of Love; Nadir, the goddess of the depths or the Oracle; Will, the god of the Gift; Hyperion, the god of Law, and, of course, Camael, goddess of the Hearth.

  As she helped set out the decorations, Lily fussed extra long over Camael’s arrangement in the temple, whispering to the goddess, “Because I’m partial.”

  As a gentle waft of air passed through the temple, she thought she caught a hint of the goddess’s smile.

  In Calles, the Masque was held in town. The procession of the gods passed down the main street, and then those who wanted to participate opened their doors for the evening.

  Music played on street corners, everyone danced, several people drank too much, and sometimes a couple of fights broke out because of it, but overall, the Masque was always tremendous fun.

  The day before, Jermaine and Lionel came to meet with Estrella and Margot about how best to provide security. As much as people had relaxed to enjoy the moment, nobody had forgotten that a war had just begun.

  Afterward, Margot brought the plan to Lily to approve. “Since the Braugnes will be pulling out of Calles the day after the Masque, Jermaine said the commander wants to leave an armed presence in the town—he said it’s for our protection.” Margot searched her gaze. “Have you already talked this over with Wulfgar?”

  For a moment, Lily lost her breath. Then, very carefully, she straightened a few papers on her desk while a fine tremor ran through her fingers.

  “No,” she replied. “We haven’t discussed any of that.”

  Margot covered her hand. “What’s going on?”

  I have no idea, she wanted to say. He touches my face and… and when he kisses me, his mouth feels desperate. But his wolf has turned away from me. He has changed his mind, and I don’t know why.

  Clearing her throat, she said, “I think accepting an armed presence is a good idea. If Varian decides to retaliate for our stopping his weather mages, our force is too small to defend the town on our own.”

  “I agree.” Margot shook her head. “And if you had asked me that two weeks ago, I would have said oh hell no.”

  Lily gave her a twisted smile. “I used to think the goddess wanted me to make some kind of grand, big choice that would take us down either one path or another. Now I think we all face a series of choices every day—explore this, don’t do that. Choose to do the right thing or the wrong one. Agree to work together. Break the law. And our lives become the sum of each chosen moment. You know, I almost decided to go to Guerlan for the Masque, but when I read Varian’s invitation, I knew we were going to be facing a hard winter, and I didn’t want to spend the money.”

  Margot shuddered. “I’m so glad you didn’t go.”

  “Me too.” Looking down at her desk, Lily said, “The plans are sound, both for security for the Masque tomorrow night and for what happens when the army leaves. I approve.”

  After Margot left, Lily gave up trying to work and ascended her tower to sit and watch the flames in the hearth. Her thoughts formed, spun, and reformed, and like a kaleidoscope, the landscape changed, depending on how she looked at it.

  The future was always full of an almost infinite number of potential paths. Just because she had dreamed of a life with Wulf, that didn’t ensure it would happen. She, of all people, should have remembered that.

  For the first time she realized she hadn’t seen any visions for the past several days.

  Maybe that was because, for the goddess, the critical choice had already been made. Maybe it had never been about picking either of the two men who even now were at war with each other.

  Maybe the critical decision had always been about the fight to save innocent lives, choosing to take action to stop the weather mages and accepting whatever consequences that came because of it.

  If that were so, it might be enough to satisfy Camael, but it wasn’t enough for Lily.

  Wulf didn’t come to visit that day.

  ~ 12 ~

  The Masque in Calles the next evening was delightful in every sense of the word.

  Bonfires, placed at strategic places, provided golden light and heat for anyone who needed to warm up in the middle of festivities. The foundling children from the abbey played with the townsfolk children on the ice while smiling guardians watched over them.

  Musicians played on almost every street corner, and the food—dear gods, the food. The abbey hauled cartfuls of both sweet and savory pastries across the strait along with roasted turkeys and hams and baskets full of fresh apples. The shops remained open, and the food merchants sold their wares, but the largesse from the abbey was free to all. Everyone assured Wulf that they had cut back on extravagances that year. The inhabitants of Calles knew very well that they were still facing a difficult winter.

  But to the men who had been eating camp rations for weeks, it was a veritable feast, and there was plenty of ale for purchase at both inns. Still, eight thousand troops was a lot for a relatively small town to absorb, so the Braugne soldiers passed through in rotation, giving everyone a chance to dance, eat, and drink a little before the night was through.

  Not everyone wore masks. Jermaine had forbidden any of the troops to disguise their faces. The security risk was too elevated. But many of the townsfolk, and those from the abbey, wore costumes and masks.

  After all, there was a touch of romance to be had in dancing with the butcher’s wife, who pretended to hide her identity behind a pretty mask of peacock feathers. Or the Sea Lion’s innkeeper who wore a horned stag’s head but who still gave himself away with his booming laugh.

  The whole event, set against the backdrop of snow, was so damn charming and picturesque Wulf was wild to get out of there.

  He was ready to go. His possessions were packed. Both Karre and Mignez had sent the troops they had promised in their treaties, and six thousand men waited for him at the juncture where Calles’s border met Guerlan’s. His own army would march in the morning, but Wulf planned on going on ahead with a smaller party that night.

  There was just one thing that kept him from leaving.

  Lily hadn’t
made her appearance yet.

  He stood at the mouth of the alley by the Sea Lion, leaning against the corner of the building, arms crossed, as his restless gaze roamed over the crowd.

  Then children ran down the streets, shrieking, “It’s time! It’s time!”

  People hurried to move back from the center of the street, making way for the procession of the gods. The person who played the part of Taliesin came first, leaping and twirling as they made their way down the street, dressed in a costume that made them appear to be half man, half woman.

  Then the other gods walked past, each in costumes that portrayed their roles—Death, Love, the Oracle, the god of the Gift, and Law.

  And last came the goddess of the Hearth, and of course it was Lily. Dressed in a golden gown that simulated flames, her dark hair pinned up behind the mask of a beautiful, smiling woman, she looked otherworldly and magnificent, and the entire crowd—the Braugnes, the townsfolk, and the abbey alike—roared in joy.

  Wulf didn’t raise his voice with the others. When he saw her, his chest constricted, and a pain swept over him that was so fierce it almost drove him to his knees.

  When Lily walked past, she looked at him, and the gold of her costume caught in her eyes.

  He had thought to say goodbye to her at the Masque. He hadn’t taken into account how everyone would swarm her when the procession of the gods had ended. With a slight, bitter smile, he watched the large knot of laughing people. She was lost in the middle of it, too petite for him to see.

  Very well, he would write her a farewell letter instead. Perhaps it was better that way.

  He said to Gordon, who hovered nearby, “I’m headed back to camp. Tell the rest of our party we’ll leave in an hour.”

  Gordon nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  After Wulf walked back, he lit a lamp, dug out the chest that contained his writing materials, and sat at the table. For a long while, he stared at an empty page, pen at the ready, but what could he say?