Sovann on the other hand bore the appearance of a scholar. His clothing was practical as always with more pockets showing than she could count. He sat waiting patiently in a chair with Legacy balanced carefully on one leg and an expression of dread on his face.
“It won’t be that bad. I’m sure, Sovann,” Jala offered with a faint smile as she crossed the room to take her child.
“It’s not the meeting with Kithvaryn,” Sovann mumbled with a slight shake of his head.
“Ash is waiting in the city for you. Word arrived while you were bathing. Apparently he plans to take ship from here directly to Seravae,” Valor explained in a steady voice, not bothering to turn from the window.
“But I have to raise Merro still. I hadn’t planned on going to Seravae until my people were living again,” Jala objected with a frown.
“I suppose you will have to take that up with your fiancé after our meeting with the General,” Valor said dryly as he turned toward Vaze. “Ready when you are Vaze. The sooner this day is over with, the better.”
Vaze nodded slowly to Valor and looked back to Jala with a questioning expression on his face.
“I’m ready,” Jala agreed and moved closer so that he could transport them all more easily. Legacy squirmed briefly in her arms before contenting himself with wrapping his tiny fingers in a lock of her hair.
Vaze stared at her for another long moment before nodding slowly. He glanced to Valor and then Sovann before looking back to her once more. “I really hope you know what you are doing with Seravae, and I really hope you have considered all other options first,” he said softly as the room darkened with his summoned shadows.
Kithvaryn sat waiting in the same chair he had occupied the night before. Kithkara stood behind him, leaning against the wall near the weapons racks. The expression on the woman’s face suggested she would like to make use of those weapons as the group entered the room.
“Good morning, General Kithvaryn, Commander Kithkara,” Jala spoke the greeting politely and bowed her head to Kithvaryn with respect.
“You look more the High Lady today than you did on our first meeting,” Kithvaryn returned with a note of approval in his voice. He gazed at her son for a long moment before nodding her toward one of the empty chairs.
“I regret the condition I arrived in. I’m afraid under the circumstances of yesterday’s events that it couldn’t be helped,” Jala replied with a small apologetic shrug. Carefully she pulled the long silk skirts of her newly summoned dress out of the way and sat down in the indicated chair.
Kithvaryn waited patiently for Valor and Sovann to take places behind her before nodding toward her son. “Finn’s child, I assume. I had heard rumors that you were with child, but the news seems too fresh for a child his age.”
“I was in poor condition when I returned from the Darklands, so I used magic on my son to insure that he survived,” Jala explained, leaving out as many of the details of the event as she could. There was no reason for anyone other than her friends to know what bad condition she had been in.
“I see,” the general responded in a tone that suggested he didn’t want to hear all of the details any more than she wanted to speak them. Exhaling heavily, he leaned back farther into the cushions of his chair, resting his elbows comfortably on the arm rests. “I’ve considered your offer and I have a counter for you. As it turns out, I didn’t care much for Hexian’s offer and we couldn’t reach terms that we both agreed on. As for Morcaillo, I don’t like nor trust the man so I don’t plan to take contract there either. That leaves you. If we can reach terms that is.”
Jala struggled to keep the look of hope from her face and nodded slowly. “What is your counter, General?” she asked in a reserved voice.
“First, my company will keep any spoils of war that are gained in defending Goswin. That is the full and complete spoils. Goswin will not get a share regardless of whether they fight beside us or not,” Kithvaryn began in a formal tone. “Second, my son’s soul is to be returned to me before we move our troops to Goswin. If there is any deceit in that transaction, the contract between the two of us will be void. If it is not truly my son that I raise, I will not only void the contract I will remove the leash from Kithkara that is keeping her on such remarkably good behavior.”
“Understood and agreed upon,” Jala said with another nod when he fell silent once more. She had expected his terms to be much worse, but so far he had said nothing that she couldn’t live with.
“I’m not finished,” Kithvaryn said firmly and cleared his throat. “Third, you and I will exchange blood for safe keeping. If at any time you should move against me, I will not hesitate to use the blood against you. You will have a vial of my own blood as well, should I fail in the contract.”
“You are out of your mind,” Valor snapped, cutting Kithvaryn off before he could finish.
“Valor, please,” Jala pleaded and gave Kithvaryn an apologetic look. “Forgive him please. It is his duty to protect me and I fear I’ve made that a rather difficult chore for him. His nerves are on edge, which doubtless caused that outburst.”
“I would guess it has quite a lot to do with the Soulreaver waiting at my port for your company,” Kithvaryn said dryly before casting Valor a withering look. “The blood is not negotiable, Lady Merrodin. We will exchange vials and hold them until the end of the contract or there will be no contract. At the end of our contract, which will be the end of the war by your request, we will once again exchange the vials. Which, if we have both kept faith, should still be sealed. The fourth and final condition of the term is that you pay for the three goats your damned Bendazzi ate while you have been in my Fortress. I have not seen the hell-spawned creature myself but I know enough about you to know what it is preying on my livestock.”
You ate three goats! Jala exclaimed through a mental link with the Bendazzi while she nodded politely to Kithvaryn. “I apologize for my familiar. I expected him to be on better behavior.”
Kithvaryn glanced over his shoulder at Kithkara and nodded faintly with a tight smile. “How well do I know that pain. We always expect the best behavior of those we trust.”
They only counted three? Perhaps you shouldn’t deal with these people if that is as high as they can count. You will end up purchasing the services of six thousand troops and only getting three, Marrow returned in an amused tone.
How many did you bloody well eat? Jala demanded while keeping her expression as neutral as she could.
Four goats, one calf and a dog, Marrow replied, sounding quite pleased with himself.
It’s only been one bloody day Marrow! Jala fairly yelled the words back to him before smiling at the General as sweetly as she could. “I agree to your terms General with one exception.”
“And that would be?” Kithvaryn asked his tone growing colder.
“That you change three goats to four goats, one calf, and a dog and allow me to make restitution for the updated list of snacks,” Jala said quietly, wishing she could have simply left it at three goats which was bad enough as far as she was concerned.
“I can’t imagine the feed bill you must get monthly for that creature if he reaped that much damage here in one night,” Kithvaryn said as he shook his head slowly in amazement. “I accept the terms and if all is settled I will write the contract up and we can both turn our attention to other duties.” Jala nodded in agreement and watched the General rise from his chair. “I will return shortly with the paperwork, then. Feel free to have a drink while you wait. I will have the servants send up breakfast now.”
“Thank you, General,” Jala said with a faint smile as she watched him and Kithkara leave the room. Turning in her seat she looked up at Valor and found him glowering down at her.
“Guarding a child with a hatchet,” Valor grumbled shaking his head in disgust.
“I have to agree with Valor here, Jala. I don’t like the idea of you giving your blood to anyone,” Sovann said quietly.
“Everything has a price,
Sovann. Kithvaryn’s was lower than I thought it was going to be after the initial meeting. I count myself fortunate that he is willing to exchange vials rather than simply demanding one from me,” Jala sighed and watched with a growing frown as Valor poured himself a large tumbler of whiskey. He had been doing so well at avoiding drinking, and she knew it was her actions that were pushing him back toward the bottle. There was hardly anything she could say to make it better now, though. Not with Seravae looming so close in their future.
Chapter 25
Delvay
Dark forms circled the camp, dotting the smoke filled sky with a scattering of black. Havoc watched the ravens as they approached and shook his head before glancing at Victory. The scout’s camp should have been far enough from the borders that they would have been safe until the arrival of the main force. From the looks of things, they had been wrong, though.
“Thirty ravens at least. That’s far too many for just a few dead,” Victory said quietly. The Fae looked as haggard and miserable as Havoc had ever seen him and he felt a twinge at the sight. Victory had taken several wounds in the last conflict and they had no healers left. The healers were always the first to die in any conflict and the war in Delvay had proved to be no exception.
“Kes was in this camp. It was her patrol,” Havoc said quietly, his gaze flicking over to the small boy riding behind them. No matter how many times Havoc had argued that the boy was too young for war, the Delvay had ignored him. This was his first actual ride from the city and it was likely that the boy’s first taste of war would be the sight of his mother’s corpse.
“It’s possible that some of them lived,” Victory countered without much hope in his voice.
“I’m going to ride ahead and see. Keep them back if you can,” Havoc said and spurred his horse forward before Victory had time to object. He knew what the objections would be without hearing them. There might still be enemies. It might not be safe. Either was fine with him at this point. Let there still be some Rivasans in the camp. He would gladly help them on their way to the Darklands.
The cawing of the ravens increased as he drew closer and Razor snorted in displeasure. The flame steed hated the carrion birds almost as much as his rider did. A raven was never a good sign as far as Havoc was concerned. It meant one of three things: a battle was over before he had arrived, Seth was somewhere nearby, or the bloody spooks of Seravae had landed. Though in the latter case, the raven was no more than a sigil on their banners.
He slowed his horse to a walk as they entered the small clearing where the scouts had chosen to wait for them. Dismounting slowly, he took in the burnt tents and corpses with a single glance, his eyes searching for Kes. At the very least he could spare the boy the sight of his mother if he could simply find her and cover the body before they arrived.
His search slowed as he noticed a depression in the ground near the edge of camp. The track was far too large to be made by any animal. Moving closer Havoc kicked the torn remainder of a tent back for a better look and let out a deep sigh. “Dragon,” he muttered with disgust. That was it then. The war was as good as over with Nerathane involved. The only hope the Delvay had for survival now was retreat. Rivana already had them on numbers, and now with the added strength of Nerathane there was nothing for it.
“Jani.” The voice was weak and he barely caught the single word through the noise of the approaching riders.
Turning quickly, Havoc scanned the area frantically looking for the only person in Delvay that called him by that name. “Kes, where are you?” Havoc called loudly, sending the Ravens back into the sky, squawking in protest.
“The tree, Jani,” Kes called, her voice choked and filled with pain.
Havoc spun in a full circle his eyes scanning every tree surrounding the camp until he noticed a knotted rope tied around the middle of a large oak near the edge of the camp. He moved swiftly around the tree and nearly choked when he found what remained of her. There were few wounds more terrible to look upon than a burn, from what he had seen over the years, and her body was one large burn. Not a trace of flesh remained on her that wasn’t black or blistered. Her hair was burned away, leaving her scalp raw and bloody. Her eyes were the only part of her that seemed unscathed and they were locked on him with a look of such agony that he felt his breath catch in his throat.
“Kes,” he managed at last, the single word holding more emotion in it than he thought possible. Grief, anger, sadness, and doubt all rivaled for dominance in his mind. He didn’t know how to help her, let alone how to save her life. The ropes they had tied her with had cut into her cooked flesh until the hemp was almost part of her arm. There was no way he could remove the bonds without causing her excruciating pain. Not that she wasn’t already in pain, but the shock of adding more might very well kill her. “Kes, I don’t know how to help you,” Havoc whispered, his voice thick with grief.
“Listen to me. That is all you can do Havoc. I don’t have enough strength to last much longer.” Kes coughed and her eyes welled with tears. “Nerathane has joined the fight, Jani, and they have Magebreakers with them. You have to tell Kadan. We didn’t have a chance here.” Kes managed the words through her broken lips but the effort it was taking was obvious. She was spending the last of her strength to try to save them all.
“Havoc?” Victory called from the campsite and Havoc could hear the sound of the other horses.
“Momma?” The higher pitched voice of her son sent the tears Kes had been holding back spilling down her cheeks.
“Keep him back, Jani. Don’t let him see me like this. Make him stay away and tell Kadan,” Kes pleaded, the tears pouring down her face.
“I’m sorry Kes,” Havoc whispered as he drew his dagger from his belt. “If we still had healers, Hun, I would do everything I could to get them to you. I can’t leave you like this though,” he whispered softly, his head bowed beside hers.
“Do it Jani. I’d rather die to a friend’s mercy than continue in this pain,” Kes whispered back, her voice hoarse.
“Tell me the color of the dragon before you go, Kes, please,” Havoc pleaded softly. Dragons were unique in their appearance. Each bore a separate pattern of colors to their scales making each one an individual. If he knew the color, he could avenge her death.
“Red with pale yellow tracing, Jani,” Kes mumbled, her voice hoarse and choked.
“I’ll skin it for you, Kes, and I’ll kill every Magebreaker I see. I swear it by the flames and the Divine alike,” Havoc promised as he pushed the dagger hard into her chest until it pierced her heart. She gasped once and let out a soft sob before her body fell limp against the tree once more suspended by the ropes.
“Havoc?” Victory called again this time closer.
“Keep him back, Vic,” Havoc called loudly trying desperately to keep his voice level. Stepping back slowly he wiped the unshed tears from his eyes and glanced toward the camp. Not only did he not want the child to see his mother dead, he didn’t want the Delvay to see him grieving. They were much the same as the Firym in most of their beliefs and for him to shed tears in front of them was the same to verbally announcing he was weak. “I’ll miss you, Kes. May your journey through the life stream be a swift one,” Havoc whispered once more as he wiped the blood from his dagger.
“Are you all right?” Victory had approached so silently that he hadn’t even heard a rustle in the undergrowth. The damned Fae had a way about such things and moments like this made Havoc hate them for it.
“Fine,” Havoc muttered roughly, not bothering to look up at Victory as he replaced his dagger on his belt.
“From the looks of the camp there was a dragon involved,” Victory said softly. He doubtless knew that Havoc had already determined that, but was choosing to give him a subject other than Kes.
“I’m bloody well sick of losing friends, Vic,” Havoc said in a choked voice. He hated himself for it, but if there was anyone in the world that would understand it was Victory.
“I’ve grown rat
her sick of it, myself,” Victory agreed sadly, his gaze straying to the pathetic corpse hanging from the tree.
“She said they have Magebreakers as well as Dragons. I don’t even know what the hell a Magebreaker is, but I promised her I would kill them all,” Havoc mumbled and turned his back on the camp completely. Having Victory see him with glassy eyes and a choked voice was one thing, but he would be damned if he would allow any of the Delvay to see him in this condition.
“As the name implies, they are trained to break mages. They are created using individuals with the ability to siphon and through their learning they build up reservoirs bigger than any mage alive. Unlike a normal mage who stockpiles his energy, a Magebreaker will spend everything he has before a battle and go in as dry as a desert with the intention of draining dry whoever is using magic. They are nearly impossible for a mage to beat in combat and I can’t imagine the Delvay Spellblades will have much luck facing them,” Victory explained in an almost droning voice as if he were reciting an old lesson from memory.
The sound of approaching footsteps silenced them both and Havoc watched as Kadan approached with a grim look on his stern face. The Delvay lord barely spared them a glance as he moved past them to the tree and stood before Kes’s body for a long moment before speaking. “Was she alive when you arrived?” he asked in a voice that seemed far too calm for someone that had just found a dead sister. Even if Kes was adopted, there should have been more emotion there, at the very least a show of anger.
“She was, but barely,” Havoc answered, his own voice going colder.
“Havoc,” Victory warned. His partner knew him well enough to gauge his moods by his voice. Kadan apparently didn’t.
“This is your knife wound then? Why the hell didn’t you wait until she had time to report to me?” Kadan growled, turning to face Havoc with a scowl on his face.
The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes Page 38
