“Yes, let’s go tell the others. We should mark the trail that we may find it easily, as well,” she suggested.
Holding up Bally’s axe, he grinned, “Already planned to.”
Knocking small bits of bark from the trees as they moved, the pair arrived at the clearing before the cave easily, then sauntered over to their new and improved camp. There, behind the slanted structure closest to the path to Asomanee, Piers knelt on the ground. A chisel and hammer in his hand, he gouged at the rock, removing bits to form the words he felt in his heart.
Staring at them, tears formed in Rey’s eyes. “We’ve found the location,” he croaked.
“Good. I’ll be done here shortly, and we can gather,” the Mate spat, having already cried his lot.
Glancing at the dark entrance to the cave, Rey sighed, “Will the daemons remain there without their queen?”
“I don’t know,” Amicia replied with a shake of her blond locks. “I’m sure none of us wishes to return and find out.” Swallowing, she thought of Baldwin’s remains lying on the floor of the great hall. Even for him, we shall not go back, she sighed inwardly.
Turning to her shanty, she knelt and crawled inside. She shared hers with Oldrilin, so she had more room than any of the others, she supposed, but making the transition had been difficult. She was spoiled by the cabin, she felt certain.
Running her fingers over her blanket, she recalled that it had been Baldwin who helped her pack it the day they left the glen. He had always been there, in his little brother sort of way. Even now, she could almost hear his chatter as he would have made random observations about the marshes, where they now resided.
Brushing out her hair, the sound of hammering against the stone mixed with her memories and brought on her sorrow. Even Piers has wept, she mused. Tying the locks back with a ribbon that pressed tight against her head but allowed the back to hang free, she knew there would be plenty of tears to go around soon enough.
Standing, she hung her blanket over the front of her quarters so she could change. She had sustained a tear in the shirt during their escape from Rhong, but Meena had stitched it for her. The set had been laundered to dry overnight, and she squeezed at the fresh firmness of the material, smiling at the thoughtfulness of the older woman. We will see each other through.
Getting dressed in a place where she could not stand frustrated her, especially in her raw emotional state; but under the circumstances, there was little she could do. The clothing she would wear once belonged to Bally, and her memories churned as she fought to put them on; the hold, the Mate’s quarters, and the night the ship sank. Oh, Bally.
Dressed and presentable, she removed the blanket, folding it and laying it across her bed. Her movements slow and deliberate, she forced herself to the next step as each was completed.
“You look lovely,” Rey praised as she did so.
“Thanks,” she replied, not looking at him. She had been thinking of him a great deal over the last few days, and she recalled the promise she had made to herself in the prison of Rhong. It feels odd now, with Baldwin gone. More urgent somehow, even more than it had when only the dragon had been lost. He won’t ask, though, she surmised. She had made it clear enough, and he would respect her wishes. When the time comes, I will have to convince him to do so.
Turning, she managed a weak smile. “Is the stone ready? You seem to have stopped your clanging,” she said to Piers.
“Aye,” he nodded, brushing his hand over the letters. “Meena will shrink it, and I will haul it to the location you have selected.”
“I’m pleased to help,” his wife chuckled, bringing forth her staff and completing the task. Glancing around at their expanding camp, they had shrunk and brought nearly all that they had owned within the cabin the night they fled. If and when they had a permanent place to settle, they would be off to a good start, thanks to her magic.
Wrapping the memorial in his blanket, the Mate realized it was unlikely it could be damaged between there and the circle of trees. Grinning at the stares of the trio, he laughed, “Call me sentimental. Where are the others?”
“We are here,” Animir informed him, as the remaining four of their group had been hovering close by, waiting for their march into the woods.
“Aye, let’s go then,” Piers directed, nodding at Rey. “Please, lead the way.”
“I marked the path,” the younger man informed him, strolling along the front of the tree line. Arriving at the first marker, he pointed, “We will be able to visit the memorial whenever we like.”
“Well done,” Hayt praised, thinking of the stone statues that adorn the front of Rhong. “My people are carvers as well and build sculptures of our fallen kings. Somewhere, on this side of the mountain, stands a grand collection of my ancestors.”
Smiling at the thought of it, Amicia asked, “Would you hunt for it?”
“Perhaps,” he agreed as they filed onto the narrow path. “If we remain here long enough, I may do so.”
The trees of the swamp grew close together, with thick foliage in between; one of the reasons the group had opted for the open area outside of them to build their small shelters. A feeling of wonder settled over them when they arrived at the clearing and the canopy parted above them.
“Tis beautiful,” Zaendra observed, her eyes fixed on the blue morning sky. “The perfect resting place for our young friend.”
Rey winced, keenly aware that Bally’s body would never rest there, or anywhere for that matter. Pursing his lips, he fought the urge to point out that fact, as the girl had meant nothing by the comment.
Kneeling, Piers opened the cover and positioned the grey stone, then moved so Meena could return it to its correct size. Taking a knee again, the Mate used the cloth to polish his final words to his underling.
Baldwin Carter
Brother ~ Son ~ Friend
You will be missed
Staring at the inscription, none held a dry eye. Even Hayt, who had known him the shortest amount of time, wiped a tear. “He was a good lad. Curious fellow, with his incessant yammering,” he recalled. “The meal he sat across from me next to grandmother was torture.” He laughed heartily in spite of the glum occasion.
“Aye, the boy could ramble,” the Mate agreed. “I remember the first day he came on board the ship. Three of the crew complained,” he laughed as well. “A born talker if ever there was one.”
“Why brother and son?” Amicia asked. “We knew so little about him. None of the stories he told were true.”
“They were all true,” Rey countered somberly, his hands folded in front of him so he could hold them still. “They were true because he told them and gave them a spark of life.” He sighed, shaking his head, “He was my brother.”
“He was my son,” Piers added. “We knew what was important, love. Nothing else mattered.”
Standing in front of them, the siren opened up and moaned loudly, her song filled with her pain as she mourned. Her tiny body shaking, she carried the others with her, over the edge with her dirge, each wailing and weeping openly.
Wrapping Meena with his arm, Piers offered her comfort, even in the time of his own undoing. As the deluge ebbed, he offered, “Would you like to say something?”
“I can’t,” she huffed, dabbing at her eyes with a small cloth. “Why should the young be taken so unfairly?”
“We all make this journey some time,” Animir observed. “Even those considered to be immortal will one day walk this path.”
Amicia sniffed, “Do you think he is in heaven? I mean, we all believe in the afterlife, do we not? In one form or another…”
“I believe that we do,” Piers agreed, his voice steady as he dug at his eyes with his thumb. “Of course, it is different from people to people.”
“The elves believe it is the love of family and friends that assures our passage into the afterlife,” Animir confirmed. “Years of life well lived.”
“The winning of battles,” Hayt corrected, standing taller
.
“In that case, you must not have many kin there,” the elf retorted, “as your people have hidden beneath the mountain for eons.”
“We fight when the time is right,” the dwarf shrugged, glancing at Zae as he added more quietly, “mostly among ourselves.”
The confession garnered a fit of giggles from the others, and for a moment, it was as if Bally had never left them. It was just the sort of observation he would be prone to make, and it calmed them somehow, as if he had spoken through their new friend.
“He will live on through each of us,” Zaendra agreed. “Even in the dark place, his body will return to the earth, as it should.” Reaching for her husband’s hand, she held it firmly.
The sky above bright blue, Amicia looked up, recalling the last service she had attended; the one for Arely Spicer. It had been a beautiful day then as well. “He will not be forgotten,” she agreed, “and his life was not lived in vain.”
Slowly, the group disbanded. Zaendra and Hayt left first, pushing further into the woods in an effort to share a few minutes alone together. Meena and Piers left in another direction, probably for the same reason.
“Would you like a ride back to camp?” Animir offered, noting Lin’s shriveled state.
“I believe I can make it,” she replied, staring up at him, her blue pools still filled with sadness.
“I will walk with you then,” he agreed, “in case you change your mind.”
Watching them go, Ami and Rey remained within the circle. They had cried hard with the others, but their tears had not yet been spent. As soon as their eyes met, a fresh wave fell upon them, and he offered her his arms.
Accepting, Amicia sank against his chest, rocked by the depth of his suffering. She had hoped he would face the pain, but she had not been prepared for the magnitude of it. “He’s really gone,” she sobbed, her face pressed against his white shirt.
“Aye,” he sniveled, stroking her hair. “If there had been anything we could have done, we would have,” he assured.
“Do you blame yourself?” she asked, surprised by his words, Or me? She added mentally.
“There is no blame,” he assured, sensing her unspoken question. “Sometimes there is nothing to be done and our end is simply upon us. No reason, no regrets.”
“He’s in heaven,” she stated firmly. “We had a little church, there in Nalen. My parents –” she started, then faltered. Changing her choice of words, she began again. “Gus and Arely took me there often. Not every Sunday, but near enough.”
“Aye, we had one as well on the island of my parents’ farm.” Thinking of the small structure, the doors opened and the image of a wedding sprang into his thoughts. Shaking the dream away, he regretted picturing the happy occasion on the day of his best friend’s memorial.
“We will visit there one day,” Amicia promised, her sorrow renewed. “We will see your family farm, your little church, and I will be happy to share them with you,” she finished, clinging to him as if she would never let him go.
Rocking her back and forth, Rey sighed, feeling his layers of protection being lifted away. If they stayed much longer, his core would be exposed, and he might divulge more than he had intended. “I think we should go,” he managed.
“Please, a little longer,” she begged, pulling away and looking up at him with her large green eyes.
Unable to resist her, he nodded. “A few more minutes,” he quietly agreed, unsure if he could take the battering his heart suffered every moment that they remained.
The Right Time
Tears streaking her face, Amicia sighed, “Thank you for staying. I don’t really know how to say goodbye. I’ve lost so many these last few years.”.
“I know,” Rey groaned, wiping at his own drops of sadness with his right hand. He shoved his left into his pocket, his shoulder drooped as he worked to collect himself. “He was like my annoying little brother, which was funny,” he observed with a short laugh. “When I was growing up, that was my job. He turned the tables on me.” Sniffing loudly, he confessed, “I wake each morning expecting him to return.”
The girl had suspected as much. The breeze catching her loose hair, Amicia peered at him through the strands as they floated across her face. “We will both miss him.”
“Aye.” Meeting her gaze, he saw the darkness brewing in her clear green orbs. “What’s wrong?” he asked sharply, catching something in their depths he couldn’t place.
Her lip quivering, she stammered, “I’m so afraid, Rey. I’ve not mentioned it for some time, but Lamwen has never returned to me.”
“The dragon?” he sputtered, his mind turning. “This is an odd time to be worried about him, don’t you think?”
“Yes, the dragon,” she spat angrily. “He is also someone I have recently lost. I loved him, which I am certain you don’t understand. He was as dear a friend as Baldwin Carter, maybe even more so. He protected us, and I shared so many hours and days, months and years with him.” Fresh tears on her face, her cheeks flushed.
“It wasn’t that long,” Rey clipped, a hint of outrage in his voice. How could she bring him up now?
“It was for me,” she sighed, turning her back on him. “I hardly expect you to appreciate how deeply fond of him I had become.”
Pursing his lips, Reynard calmed his tone so as not to offend her further as he probed, “What does it mean to you when you say that you loved him?”
“Exactly that. If he had been a man, I could have seen us as so much more,” she confessed, her voice wavering.
His heart pounding against his ribs, Rey clenched his teeth. “And?”
“And, I’ve been thinking about my future,” she sighed, not having planned to have this conversation with him this day but well aware of what she wanted to say. Turning to face him squarely, she demanded, “May I ask you something?”
“You know that you can ask me anything, my love,” he breathed, her expression calming him in an instant. Reaching for her, he grasped her arms and squeezed them firmly. “What is it that you need?”
Licking her lips, fear ran through her trembling form. The afternoon breeze suddenly cool against her bare skin, she randomly thought of her sweater still lying on her mat with her quilt. “Is it me or is it chilly this morning?” she stalled.
Smiling at her spirit, he nodded. “A bit. Should we return to the shelter for your sweater?” he asked, tracing her thoughts easily.
“Oh, Rey. You know me so well,” she sighed, her fingers catching the buttons on his shirt as she skimmed over the front of it playfully. Clearing her throat, she steadied her nerve. “I’ve been thinking about my future… and my past. I have squandered chances before, and I do not wish to do so any longer. I know that you have deep feelings for me, but you have been such a gentleman. Near on three years we have known each other, and yet only a few kisses have we ever shared.”
“Aye,” he agreed, his chest tight at her seeming diversion.
“I feel I have squashed something I should have allowed to bloom.”
Staring at her, his hazel orbs swimming, he clarified, “You think it is time I should court you.”
Lifting her chin, it dimpled as she croaked, “No, Rey, I do not wish for you to court me. I wish to be married.”
“Married!” he squealed, dropping her arms and taking a step back as he gaped at her.
“Yes. I feel like I’ve been holding things up, and if I had not been such a fool, you would have asked me by now,” she confessed, closing the distance he had put between them. In a softer voice, she cooed, “If you ask me, I’ll say yes.”
Blinking at her, his mind raced, tracing the time he had known her. “And you wish to be my bride, just like that. No courtship, no public dalliances, no formality.”
“No formality,” she agreed with a small smile. “I didn’t come to this decision lightly. I have thought of little else since we arrived in the marshes, perhaps even before we left Rhong. The idea first occurred to me while we were still prisoners
there, and I swore to myself if we made it to our freedom, I would take my vow with you. That is if you will have me.”
Her lips perfectly turned, Rey’s heart melted. “Of course I will have you,” he breathed. “How could you think I ever would not?” Seeing the joy wash over her, he hesitated, holding her still at arm’s length. “But I must know the reason, Amicia. Is it for love that you will take my name or fear that has persuaded you?”
Her brow creased, the light left her eyes. “Do not ask me such questions, Reynard Daye. I have suffered much upon this journey, more so than you can fathom. Although I am still young, I feel in my heart the age that has come through each trial we have faced. Do you wish to wed or not?”
“You know that I do,” he gasped, sweeping her into his arms. “Piers promised me that one day you would be mine, and I have looked forward to it ever since.”
“Piers promised,” she giggled, warmed by the strength of his embrace.
“Yes, the first day after I awoke in Riran. You had gone to visit the mermaids, and we spoke of you and your love for him. I was so jealous, Amicia. Even now I fear you have only chosen me because he married Meena and your dragon friend would not make a suitable mate.”
Blinking back tears, she consoled, “I’m sorry it would appear so. I cannot deny my love for either of them, but when choosing with whom I will spend the rest of my days, there are more things to consider than just my heart.”
Relaxing his grip, his gut wrenched. “You do not marry me for love.”
“Stop,” she laughed, more determined than ever to gain his agreement. “Do not twist my words. I do love you, but I have always known that there was more to choosing a husband than that. Love over time can grow stale, and I must also have a friend and companion as well as the flames of passion.”
Stepping back, she gazed up at him, taking in every line of his masculine features. Her fingers trembling, she brushed at his long ringlets that had escaped their binding, which framed his bearded face. “Such a handsome man. Your eyes speak of love when they look upon me.”
Dragon of Eriden - The Complete Collection Page 73
