Riders of the Realm #3

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  Darthan collected himself and clapped his hand on Brauk’s shoulder. “This is your brother,” he said to Feylah. “This is Brauk.”

  Brauk, who had been rendered speechless, darted his eyes repeatedly across Feylah’s face.

  His sister slid off her stallion and dropped her reins. She and Brauk walked slowly toward each other. Feylah’s long dark hair, golden eyes, and athletic build matched Brauk like she was his smaller shadow.

  The drizzle and fog had lifted somewhat, leaving mottled clouds gathering overhead. Farther north, the sky crackled and white light streaked toward the Dark Water ocean. Brauk spoke. “Our mother’s Borla predicted she would not birth a daughter while she was the sitting queen. I didn’t know you existed.”

  Feylah nodded her understanding. “Reyella was not the sitting queen when I was born.”

  Brauk clutched her arm. “Feylah,” he rasped. “If I had known you existed, I would have torn apart the planet to find you.”

  The girl’s collected expression began to crack.

  Brauk swept her into his arms and squeezed her tight. “My sister,” he whispered, and he held her until she melted into him. “Sun and stars, you’re our mother through and through.”

  Feylah hid her face in the crook of his arm and they held each other for a long while. Darthan wiped tears off his face, and Ossi grinned, looking as pleased as a hen. Mut and Tam whispered to each other, smiling and gawking. I’Lenna wished Rahkki were here to see that the sacrifice he’d made when he sold his mother’s Kihlara blanket had purchased something far more precious than battle armor—it had produced a sister!

  Brauk loosed Feylah. The girl’s lips had softened and her golden eyes shone raw. She drew a breath and exhaled. “I’m here now.”

  “Where is our mother?” Brauk finally asked, and everyone braced for the answer.

  Feylah’s eyes darkened with grief. “She died in Daakur, soon after I was born.”

  Brauk’s weak legs threatened to buckle. Darthan moved closer and circled one arm around his nephew. Mut, Tam, and Ossi murmured to one another.

  Feylah blinked hard, ferociously gathering her emotions, and I’Lenna’s guilt gutted her. Because of her grandmother’s greed and Lilliam’s treachery, the Stormrunner children had been separated and raised without their mother.

  Darthan wiped his face and replaced his sword. “Let’s talk inside where it’s dry and warm,” he said. “I imagine you’re hungry. You can put the horses in the barn.”

  While Thaan and Tully led the white horses to the barn, Feylah unsaddled Drael and turned him loose. “You have quite a herd of Kihlari,” she commented, eyeing the wild herd’s wiry bodies and fierce expressions. “They won’t hurt Drael, will they?”

  Brauk shrugged. “I don’t think so, but they don’t belong to us. They’re wild. Come in and we’ll exchange stories.”

  Inside the hut, everyone settled onto chairs or sat on furs while Darthan stoked his hearth fire and threw sliced bacon into a pan.

  Thaan and Tully returned from the barn and I’Lenna suddenly remembered how she knew their names. Her mother had spoken of these two men over the years; they were guards who’d betrayed her. “You’re Second Clan soldiers,” she said. “You worked for my mother.”

  “What!” Brauk lunged for his dagger.

  Feylah lifted one small hand. “Stand down,” she said calmly. “Thaan and Tully turned against Lilliam long ago.”

  I’Lenna and Ossi exchanged a glance, and I’Lenna wondered what sort of upbringing had produced such a collected and authoritative child—or had Feylah simply inherited her mother’s personality? It was said that Reyella the Pantheress—who’d become queen at age thirteen—had worn her authority like a second skin. Feylah, who was almost nine, already carried herself like a monarch.

  Feylah then came to a realization of her own. “You said my guardians worked for your mother. Are you a Whitehall?” she asked, looking directly at I’Lenna.

  Darthan moved protectively closer. “I’Lenna is on our side,” he assured.

  Before he could say more, Brauk interjected. “What happened the night our mom escaped? Can you tell us?”

  As Feylah accepted a cup of tea from Darthan, she exhaled. “I’Lenna is correct. Thaan and Tully were once Lilliam’s private guards,” she began. “On that . . . that awful night Lilliam tried to assassinate our mother, she assigned them to hunt Reyella down after she escaped the fortress. Thaan and Tully were brand-new soldiers at that time and very young, sixteen and seventeen years old. They caught Reyella.” Feylah’s voice tightened. Thaan dropped his eyes and Brauk gritted his teeth.

  “I’ll tell the story,” Tully murmured. “We got into the woods, and yeah, we caught Reyella but only because she was wounded. Lilliam had stabbed her.”

  I’Lenna gasped and dared not look at anyone.

  Tully continued. “But we couldn’t, you know, finish her off.” His eyes flicked to Brauk’s. “Your mum was heavily pregnant and as angry as a tiger, and she was—I don’t know how to describe it—she was convincing. She commanded us to help her.” Tully and Thaan exchanged a smile. “There was no way to say no to her.”

  Darthan nodded and fresh tears washed his face. “That’s right, that’s Reyella.”

  “So we changed course and helped her look for her sons and her stallion. We never found you boys, but we found Drael. The spiders had wrapped him up and injected their venom, which healed his injuries. I slipped in and—whack—cut him free.” Tully made a slicing motion with his hand.

  “By then, Reyella was drifting in and out of wakefulness and she’d lost some blood. We were losing her,” Thaan interjected. “We put her on Drael’s back and the stallion swam all of us across Cinder Bay. I was going to stay back so he could fly just the two of them, but Reyella wouldn’t allow it. Said Lilliam would kill me for failing. And she would have.”

  I’Lenna’s cheeks blazed hotter. By Granak, her mother had done terrible things.

  Tully finished the story. “We reached the docks, bought two horses, and rode to our grandparents’ farm in Northern Aryndale. Feylah was born there but we couldn’t save her mother. We raised Feylah in the Sandwen ways and taught her to fight.” Tully’s fatherly pride looked almost comical on his youthful face. “We did the best we could with the little mite.”

  Feylah grinned, her affection for her guardians obvious, and I’Lenna gained new understanding of Rahkki’s sister. She’d been raised alone by two young soldiers and trained to fight; no wonder she seemed so much older than her years.

  Brauk addressed the brothers, his jaw muscles fluttering. “We owe you our thanks.”

  “You owe us nothing,” Tully replied, leaning back. “We did what we thought was right.”

  Feylah fingered the precious Kihlara blanket they’d brought with them and continued. “When Tully saw the receipt attached to this blanket at a shop in Daakur, he stole it and brought it home to me. That’s how I learned that at least one of my brothers had survived. I knew it was time to come home.”

  Her words seemed to pierce Brauk, and he groaned. For the past eight years, he’d denied the possibility that Reyella had survived. Now his voice cracked. “I’m sorry I didn’t look for you,” he said, and his breaths quickened. “I watched Lilliam stab our mother in the back, and then I watched Drael die, at least I thought I did. And Darthan saw Lilliam burn a body on Reyella’s funeral pyre. Even my mother’s crown was destroyed. I’ve been trying to forget all of it.”

  Feylah touched his arm. “We’re together now,” she said. “And look.” She opened another carrying bag and lifted out an ancient crown.

  Darthan rose from his chair, excitement shining on his weathered face. “That’s Reyella’s, that’s the original. Lilliam claimed she burned it with the body.”

  The girl smiled, looking suddenly shy. “Lilliam probably said that to hide the fact she didn’t have it. Reyella took it with her that night and now it’s mine. I’m the Queen of the Fifth and I’m home.”
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  The sad mood in the tent shifted to one of joy. Everyone gathered around Feylah, hugging her and inspecting the dragon-tooth crown. I’Lenna held back. How did she fit into this group now? Truth was, she didn’t.

  She slipped outside, feeling miserable and alone. Firo nickered to her. She rushed to her winged horse and buried her face in Firo’s mane. She began to cry.

  A moment later, Brauk stepped onto the porch. “I’Lenna?” he called. “You should come inside and listen to our plans.”

  “Our plans?”

  Brauk smiled at her, looking exhausted and awestruck. “Yes, our plans to save Rahkki. You’re going to help us, aren’t you?”

  She understood he was offering a truce. “But—”

  He gave a small shake of his head. “I know I’ve been hard on you, and I’ve been hard on Rahkki,” he admitted. “I didn’t believe anything he told me—not about the wild steeds, not about our mom, and not about you.” He inhaled through his nose. “I think it’s time I started believing my brother, and he told me to trust you. So come inside, please, and let’s figure out how to get him back.”

  Warmth swept through I’Lenna at the invitation. She walked through Darthan’s doorway, crossing not only the grass but also the great divide that had split their two families. Inside the hut, the scent of sizzling bacon and the group’s excited conversation blanketed I’Lenna like a warm fur.

  Feylah moved aside, allowing I’Lenna room to join the group. Brauk, who’d sat down to rest his legs, handed her a slice of pineapple, and Mut brought her a chair.

  Darthan served a late breakfast and everyone grew silent as they filled their bellies.

  Between the friendly conversation, the delicious meal, and the wild Kihlari grazing loose outside, I’Lenna felt like a wanderer who, after a long and arduous journey, had finally arrived home.

  14

  Guest

  THE HORDE MEETING HAD DISBANDED AND THE bargain Rahkki had struck with the Gorlanders would be sealed over soup that evening. The rains paused for breath and Rahkki’s mood soared higher. He tugged on Miah’s arm. “Let’s go outside!”

  The entire warren seemed to have the same idea and the pathways filled with thumping feet, padding paws, and tiny hoofbeats as giants, saber cats, and milk goats swarmed toward the stairs. Tak followed and green smoke drifted from his nostrils, leaving hazy tendrils in his wake.

  Outside, the horde was in jubilant spirits. Sunrays slid between the branches and speared the muddy soil. The volcanoes belched, spitting steam and rocks, and the jungle canopy overhead screeched to life. Three giants played music on their reed pipes. Some Sandwens believed giants were deaf, but Rahkki could add that to the many myths about giants that were turning out not to be true.

  The adults brought up their hands, gesturing in sweeping, graceful motions, and Rahkki realized they were singing. He studied their gestures as the song repeated over and over, memorizing the lyrics:

  Neither friend nor foe

  Where giants go.

  Deep, deep in the jungle keep.

  Neither man nor beast

  Where giants feast.

  Deep, deep in the jungle keep.

  Only flowers and sun

  Where giants run.

  Only soup and play

  Where giants slay.

  Only sleep and dawn

  Where giants yawn.

  Deep, deep in the jungle keep.

  He sensed the horde pride nestled within the lyrics, and affection for the giants bloomed in Rahkki’s heart. He decided to show them his gratitude for healing his ankle. “Will you take me to the creek?” he asked Miah.

  Drake overheard them. “I’ll go with you.” They struck out upon an animal path that led to a small swatch of water Rahkki had spotted when he first rode into Fire Horde’s camp eight days ago. Miah’s brothers, Krell and Fallon, also joined them.

  On the shoreline, Rahkki found a stiff branch. He borrowed Miah’s knife and whittled it into a spear while she played in the mud with Tak. When the stick was sharp enough, Rahkki waded into the flowing creek and waited. Long minutes passed before a silver shape caught his eye. He drove his spear into the back of the fish and hauled it out. The catfish fluttered on the spearhead until it went limp. Triumphant, Rahkki lifted his prize, but suddenly, it burst into flames.

  Tak swooped past Rahkki’s head and fired the fish twice more, charring it black; then he ripped it off the sharpened stick and glided back to shore, shredding the fish and swallowing the pieces.

  “That was mine!” Rahkki muttered.

  “Brrur, brrur,” the dragon chirped.

  Setting his jaw, Rahkki speared another fish. This time he was quick to wrap it in leaves and slide it into his satchel. To flavor his catch, he dug up a few mushrooms. Rahkki returned to the creek’s bank, curled next to Miah, who had fallen asleep in a pool of sunshine, and soon drifted off. Tak squeezed between them, humming with contentment.

  That evening the giants returned to the warren and gathered in the largest chamber to seal Rahkki’s bargain over soup. Messengers had been sent to Highland and Great Cave Horde to assemble their armies and meet at the warren. They would arrive within a few days. Rahkki tried not to resent the delay. He was ready to go home now.

  A line formed that led to the cauldron. As was the custom, all the giants who’d collected ingredients during the day marched down the line and tossed whatever they’d gathered into the soup. Everyone contributed, even Miah. And today, as a thank-you to his hosts, so would Rahkki.

  He jogged to the end of the line.

  One by one, the Gorlanders noticed him standing there.

  The boy flashed his little teeth in imitation of them.

  After a surprised silence, the giants slammed their fists to the floor. This gesture could demonstrate anger or appreciation, but when coupled with rumbling sounds, it meant the giants were pleased, and Rahkki’s heart warmed again. He’d befriended three Gorlan hordes! And with their combined armies and his insider knowledge of the clan, he’d easily defeat Lilliam. Once I’Lenna was settled as queen, he’d sail to Daakur and search for his missing mother.

  The line ambled along as each giant tossed in his or her goods. Rahkki’s veins pulsed with excitement. His clan appreciated guests who contributed, and so would the Gorlanders.

  After the giant in front of him tossed in some green herbs, it was Rahkki’s turn. The Gorlanders stilled, watching the boy with wary indulgence. He reached into his bag and pulled out the wild mushrooms.

  The giants smacked their lips, looking pleased, and he tossed his offering into the pot. Next he withdrew the wrapped fish.

  The giants cocked their heads, trying to see what was tucked between the leaves.

  Deciding to show them what a nice fat catfish he’d speared, Rahkki gripped it by its open jaws and lifted it high over his head.

  The Gorlanders’ eyes widened. A mother dropped her empty bowl and it clattered to the stone floor. Miah gasped.

  It is a nice fish, Rahkki thought. And then he tossed it into the pot.

  Chaos erupted. Giants bolted toward Rahkki. Miah covered her ears and began to cry. Drake roared like a Gorlan king, and the rest clutched one another, shrieking as if they were being slaughtered.

  Rahkki curled into a ball. Land to skies, what have I done?

  Three giants grabbed him and began to pull his limbs in opposite directions. Rahkki howled as pain shot through his body.

  The Fire Horde king stomped his foot so hard everyone froze. The giants dropped Rahkki and backed away, flashing their tusks.

  The king reached his arm into the soup, grimacing at the temperature, and tried to scoop out the fish, but he couldn’t reach it. He sat hard on his rear and sobbed.

  Wails burst forth from the Fire Horde giants. Tak flew down from the stalagmites and crawled inside Rahkki’s shirt.

  “What happened?” Rahkki signed. “What did I do?”

  “You put an animal in the soup!” the Fire king answered, tuggin
g at his red hair. “Thirty-two years at simmer and now our soup is ruined.” He glared at Rahkki.

  “I—I’m sorry,” Rahkki sputtered. Then in Gorlish he asked, “You don’t eat fish?”

  “No.” The king’s face crumpled. “We don’t eat meat.”

  Rahkki gaped at the king. “But—but, I don’t understand. You’re giants.” It was a stupid thing to say. He knew it as soon as he signed the words.

  “And giants are beasts, right?” The king finished. He punctuated his gestures with snarls. “We know you Sandwens believe we eat your children. We’ve let you fear us these long years, but it’s over. It’s time for the giants to show you who we really are.” The king leaned over Rahkki, his breath whirling Rahkki’s hair like the wind. “We’re not dumb, angry beasts, and we’re not friends. We were here before you and we’ll be here long after you. We are the children of King Lazrah, and we will reclaim our father’s land.” The king turned to command his horde.

  Breathing hard, Rahkki scooted out of the way as ten of the larger giants lifted the Fire Horde cauldron off its base and carried it out of the cavern. Quiet sobs followed and hundreds of clawed fingers reached to touch the beloved pot. When the ten giants returned, the cauldron was empty. The Gorlanders stacked their empty bowls, desolate, deflated, and grief stricken.

  Dread oozed through Rahkki’s veins and he began to shiver. Everything he’d thought he knew about the giants had turned out to be false. He grunted to Drake. “But you hunt animals,” he signed, making a weak attempt to argue.

  “For sinews, bones, hides, and to trade,” answered Drake. “Not for eating.”

  Rahkki hunched, backing away. “I didn’t know.”

  “Again—you didn’t ask.” Anguish squished the king’s face. “Get up.”

  Rahkki stood.

  “Take him away.” He pointed to the passageway that led to Rahkki’s chamber.

  Tears sprang to Rahkki’s eyes. All the giants had turned their backs to him except Miah and the Fire Horde king. The Gorlan male flashed his tusks. “Our deal is canceled. You have brought war on your people.” He turned and strode off to console his horde.