The King's Scrolls

by Jaye L. Knight

  Her mother’s brows lifted, yet gratitude filled her eyes. “I will.”

  Kyrin then moved on to her younger brothers, and her emotions slipped even more.

  “I wish you could stay,” Ronny said. Michael was putting on a brave face, but the youngest boy had tears in his eyes.

  “So do I,” Kyrin replied, “but it’s not safe for us to stay here. Not for us or for you.”

  “You shouldn’t have to go.” Michael huffed and frowned deeply. “This is your home. You’re our family. I don’t care what anyone says about what you believe.”

  Kyrin couldn’t help her smile. His indignation reminded her very much of Kaden. The two seemed a lot alike. Then her expression grew serious, and she put a hand on each of her brothers’ shoulders. “There’s something I want you both to know before I leave.”

  Their serious faces matched hers as they listened intently.

  “No matter what anyone says or tries to tell you, Father was not a traitor. He was a hero. People will try to make you ashamed of him and what he did, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Her voice quivered. “He was one of the bravest men I’ve ever known, and he did the right thing. No matter what, you have to remember that, do you understand?”

  Both boys nodded solemnly.

  Kyrin took a breath. “Good.”

  Then came goodbye. She hugged each of her brothers tightly, unable to hold back a few tears. With reluctance and final farewells, Kyrin, Kaden, and their older brothers turned toward the dragons. They hadn’t made it halfway across the yard when Michael shouted, “Take us with you!”

  He and Ronny rushed after them with pleading looks.

  “Please, we want to go with you,” Michael said more urgently.

  Kyrin stood torn. How she would love to take them to camp. The last thing she wanted was to leave them here under the influence of their grandfather and the emperor. She wanted them to know and believe the truth. All that prevented her from granting their request was the fear in her mother’s eyes. She’d just lost her husband, and two more of her children were leaving her to become fugitives. How could they deprive her of the only two she had left?

  Kyrin hesitated, terribly conflicted, but it was Kaden who stepped forward and spoke to their brothers.

  “I wish we could, but it’s important that you stay here and take care of Mother. It’s all up to the two of you. You’re the men of the Altair house now, all right? Mother needs you to look after things. Can you do that for us?”

  Ronny looked a little scared, but Michael’s face set in determination.

  “We can do that,” he said.

  Bolstered by his brother’s acceptance of the responsibility, Ronny nodded.

  Kaden smiled at them. “Don’t worry, we’ll come visit and make sure everything’s all right. It’s not far with the dragons.”

  Their mother gave Kaden a grateful look, and the group turned once more.

  At the dragons, they all mounted—Marcus riding with Kyrin, and Liam with Kaden. Amidst calls of goodbye, they took to the air. Kyrin looked down as the house shrank away, and waved at the three family members standing in the yard. Her chest constricted at leaving them and home behind, but she set her sights on the horizon to the northeast, toward her second family and home.

  Kyrin finished setting the table and poured herself a cup of coffee to sip while she waited for her brothers. Letting the mug warm her hands, she stepped to the window. Feathery snowflakes floated down through the trees. After two days back in camp, life finally seemed to be settling down for the winter. Though she still missed her younger brothers and thought of them often, she welcomed the quiet. She had half her family with her now, and Marcus and Liam fit in well. Trask and the other members had welcomed them readily, as she knew they would. Timothy had been especially helpful in talking to them about spiritual matters. Liam, who had all but believed already, accepted everything with only minimal explanation. Marcus needed more, and had even stayed up late talking with Timothy the night before. It was more than she could have hoped for, and she praised Elôm.

  “See them?”

  Kyrin looked back at Lenae as the woman set a plate of sausages on the table. “Not yet, and if they were up any later than I was, I’m not surprised.”

  Lenae smiled. “You must be thrilled to see your brothers so open to the knowledge of Elôm.”

  “I am, especially for Marcus. He’s almost a different person already. He asks questions, but doesn’t doubt the answers. Before now, he wouldn’t have even considered it.” Her mind drifted back over the last few days. He never would have considered it if not for all that had happened. Such experiences couldn’t leave a person unchanged. As horrible as it had been, Elôm clearly had a plan in it. “I’m just thankful Timothy is here. His knowledge amazes me. I never could have explained things like he has.”

  “He’s a very gifted young man. We’re blessed to have him here.”

  Kyrin agreed. “I can’t help but envy him sometimes, the way he’s dealt with things. He’s much stronger than I am.” An uncomfortable twinge passed through her, and she let a sigh escape. Ever since leaving home, she couldn’t seem to shake a nagging feeling of guilt.

  “It’s good to have people like him to learn from and emulate.”

  “And you,” Kyrin said.

  Lenae gave her a warm smile.

  When Kyrin looked out the window again, her three brothers were on their way to the cabin. “Here they come.”

  She met the men at the door and exchanged morning greetings as they hung up their coats. Their tired eyes suggested that they’d been up well past when she’d gone to bed. She could hardly blame them. She’d hated to leave the conversation, but the exhaustion of the past days had been too much for her.

  At the table, they voiced their appreciation for the food Lenae was about to serve. Now that it was too cold for outdoor community meals, the men, with the exception of Lenae’s son Jeremy, saw to feeding themselves, but Kyrin’s brothers had a special invitation. They took their seats, and Kaden offered a prayer before they filled their plates. Kyrin didn’t say much during the meal, but she loved listening to her brothers talk. It was so foreign, but wonderful. And Kaden and Marcus were getting along. She could tell Marcus was making an effort, and Kaden, too, did his part. Everything was just about perfect.

  Near the end of the meal, Trask entered the cabin along with a few wayward snowflakes. He smiled as Lenae closed the door against the chill air. “Mind if I join you? I have something I’d like to discuss with Captain Altair.”

  “Please,” Lenae invited.

  As Trask took a seat at the table with them, Kyrin’s oldest brother said, “Just ‘Marcus’ is fine. I’m not a captain anymore.” His face displayed a struggle that Kyrin attributed to the actions he’d taken as an Arcacian officer and what it had cost. More than once, he’d expressed his distress over it. Elôm’s unconditional forgiveness was something he would have to grow accustomed to. From what Kyrin knew, there’d been no such forgiveness under the General’s command.

  “Actually, I have a proposition that would enable you to keep that title,” Trask told him.

  Everyone around the table sat intrigued.

  “How is that?” Marcus asked.

  “I’ve been discussing this with Warin and Rayad, and we all agree. Part of our goal here has always been to form a militia to aid our allies, should any fighting break out. There are well-trained men here, but none who’ve been in military leadership like you. We would like you to train our militia, as well as lead them.”

  Marcus’s expression lifted in surprise. “Me?”

  Trask nodded.

  “Are you certain you want me for the job? I’ve only been here for a couple of days.”

  “You’re exactly the one we want and need to create this militia, and the men will respect my decision.”

  Marcus didn’t have to think about it long. With an eager light in his eyes, he said, “I’d be honored.”

  Tra
sk smiled. “Good.” He rose and offered his hand. “Congratulations, Captain Altair. You’re officially the first commander of the Landale Militia.”

  Jace tried lying on his less-bruised right side, but it still shot stabbing pains through his chest and pulled at his wounded back. He’d never sleep at night if not for the herbs Kyrin’s mother had sent with them. But both Kyrin and Rayad were serious about making sure he didn’t get too much, so he went without it during the day, relying on safer, yet less potent painkillers. It didn’t help that the wounds needed to be cleaned so regularly. Enduring the fresh pain always sapped his already-depleted strength.

  Desperate to regain that strength, he fought to push aside his discomfort and rest, but soon it grew too difficult to breathe properly. With a groan that was as much frustration as pain, he pushed himself up and sat on the edge of Rayad’s bed. So much for that. Tyra sat up from her place on the floor, resting her chin on his knee. He rubbed between her ears as she stared up at him. She seemed to sense his pain and had been subdued ever since he’d returned, rarely leaving his side.

  Rayad looked at him from near the fireplace. “Do you want me to get you more tea?”

  Jace waved off the suggestion. No amount of herbal tea would reduce the pain enough for him to sleep. He would have to wait until nighttime. Gritting his teeth, he reached for his boots and pulled them on.

  Rayad rose from his chair and stood at the end of the bed. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going outside.” Frustration leaked out of his tone, and he tried to soften it, though the fiery sting engulfing his back made it difficult. “I’m tired of trying to rest. I need fresh air.”

  Rayad said nothing, but went to the door for Jace’s coat and helped him slip it on.

  Jace fastened the buttons, and then looked up. “Thank you.” As hard as it was for him to be laid up, he knew it was even more difficult for Rayad and Kyrin to see him like this.

  With a look of understanding, Rayad nodded. “Just be careful you don’t do anything to aggravate the wounds.”

  “I will.” The last thing Jace wanted was to remain like this any longer than necessary.

  He stepped outside after Tyra and drew in the deepest breath he could manage. Both the pain of his screaming ribs and the cold, frosty air made his eyes water, but he blinked it away to look around. Not too far away, Marcus worked with his new company of men. Jace had heard Rayad, Trask, and Warin discussing the idea of the militia and making Kyrin’s brother captain of it.

  About thirty-some men had volunteered to join so far—fewer than half the men Marcus used to command, but he appeared to take it just as seriously. Already, the group looked well organized.

  But the men did not hold Jace’s attention. Instead, it landed on the figure standing off to the side observing them. Kyrin. He walked toward her. Tyra trotted ahead of him, her tail wagging. Kyrin smiled when the wolf reached her and bent down to pet her. Then her gaze rose to Jace and ran along his bruised face before meeting his eyes. Her expression held a question. No doubt she thought he should be resting too. However, she didn’t say anything when he joined her in watching Marcus.

  “Your brother is a good leader.” He didn’t hold any animosity toward Marcus for not stepping in to stop his grandfather. He’d made enough of his own mistakes.

  Kyrin smiled faintly. “Leading has always come naturally to him. Even as children, we all followed him, including Kaden. It’s incredible to see him here doing this. He lost so much when we left Fort Rivor yet, in only a couple of days, Elôm has already allowed him to continue doing what he loves.”

  Jace nodded in agreement, but watched the smile completely fade from her face. She seemed to lose herself in thought, not even seeing her brother and his men anymore. Jace waited for a minute or two. Finally, he asked, “Are you all right?”

  She snapped out of her thoughts and looked up at him. “I’m fine.”

  The words lingered between them. It was odd to hear them from her lips instead of his. Of course, she had every reason to be distracted, after what had happened to her father, but something else seemed to be weighing on her.

  She sighed and hung her head. “No, not really. I just haven’t responded well to anything that has happened recently. Not about my father, or to my grandfather . . . and especially not to my mother.”

  She grimaced, scraping the toe of her boot through the light layer of snow. “I treated her poorly, and I was wrong. I was angry and hurt, and I didn’t want to let it go . . . I didn’t want to forgive.” She winced again, but Jace understood her feelings perfectly. He’d found it difficult, at first, to forgive Holden when he’d asked. “I was too afraid of being hurt again, but now I feel horrible, and I wish I could fix it.”

  “You will,” Jace encouraged her, “as soon as you see her again.”

  “I hope so. Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

  “Of course.” He hardly knew Kyrin’s mother but, from what little he’d seen, she’d seemed to have a desire for things to be right between them.

  A slow smile crept back to Kyrin’s face, restoring the light in her eyes that had been so painfully absent lately. If only she didn’t have reason to hurt so much. “Thank you.”

  Jace frowned. “For what?”

  “You’ve done so much for me during this time. It really means a lot.”

  Jace ducked his head and gave small shrug. “I wish there was more I could’ve done . . . more I could do.” It seemed inadequate, in light of what had happened.

  Kyrin touched his arm, her hand warming his skin even through his sleeve, and spoke earnestly. “You have, for both me and Kaden. I haven’t coped well. I wanted to be stronger, but I couldn’t. You helped take care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself. And you kept Kaden from getting himself killed. So again, thank you.”

  Jace’s eyes stung with moisture, though he couldn’t blame the cold this time. He nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  A fuller smile reached Kyrin’s lips. “However, you did scare me to death when you told us to leave you behind at the crossroads. Please, don’t do that to me again.”

  Jace’s expression remained serious. “I told your father I’d do anything to protect you. I meant it.”

  Kyrin stared at him. “You did?”

  He nodded again. “And it’s a promise I intend to keep.”

  Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, Lydia stepped into the dining room and stopped in the doorway. Michael and Ronny had their books open in front of them, but they both just stared into space.

  “Boys.” Their eyes jumped to her. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

  “Yes, Mother,” Michael responded with a quiet sigh, and Ronny echoed him.

  They went back to their work, and Lydia released a sigh of her own. How could she fault their lack of attention? Though she’d tried to get things back to normal, they all knew normal was just a memory. It was just the three of them now. That reality still sent chill waves of fear rolling through her, robbing her of breath and forcing tears to her eyes. An hour didn’t pass when she didn’t want to buckle under the sorrow, but she had to be strong for her sons. What more could they do but press on?

  A banging knock sounded at the door, and she jumped. She rapidly blinked the moisture from her eyes, but couldn’t halt the dread that descended. Only one person knocked with such force. The boys looked up, and Lydia grimaced. Her father was the last person she wanted to see. She didn’t know how she would come to terms with the fact that he’d been prepared to kill her older children right in front of her. The fear lurking in the boys’ wide eyes only added to her feelings.

  “Just keep working,” she told them, and turned as a second knock echoed through the house. She met Ethel on the way to the entry. “I’ll get it.”

  At the door, she drew a fortifying breath before pulling it open. She had to step back quickly as her father strode in and brushed past her, his eyes intense and searching.

  “Where are Michael and Ronan?�
��

  It took Lydia a moment to recover from his abrupt entrance. “They’re in the dining room, studying.”

  Relief flickered in his eyes right before he marched off deeper into the house and peered into each room. Her mouth open, Lydia hurried after him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to make sure the traitors were gone from this house.”

  Indignation flared inside Lydia. “If by traitors you mean my oldest children, then yes, they’re gone. They have been for three days.”

  Her father didn’t check his stride until they reached the dining room. The boys still sat at the table and looked from him to their mother in question.

  “Go upstairs and pack your things,” the General ordered.

  Lydia’s heart stuttered, and she spun around to face him. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m taking them to Tarvin Hall.”

  “No!” Lydia would not stand for this. Not this time—not with her sons’ desperate eyes on her. Her father’s gaze flashed to her, and she said even more firmly, “You’re not taking them anywhere.”

  The General gawked at her. It may well have been the first time since she was a child that she’d openly defied him. His jaw set in the fierce stubbornness he was so famous for. “I will not leave them here to be tainted by the rebellion they witnessed.”

  “Does it look like they’ve been tainted?” Lydia asked sharply. She breathed in slowly and tempered her voice. “Just calm down so we can discuss this.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss,” her father snapped, and his gaze switched back to the boys. “Go upstairs and pack.”

  Panic engulfed Lydia at the growing sense that she was about to lose her boys. Then their family would be completely split apart, and she would be alone.

  Her two sons looked at each other, and then Michael rose, standing up straight. “I’m not going.”