Born of Embers

by R A Lewis

  “And you were right.” Jormungand tried to undermine her but she ignored his comment.

  “But I returned because no matter where I came from, you are my people. I was so blinded by grief that I didn’t see it at first, but now I see it all too clearly. So I have returned to challenge Jormungand for my throne, and if Skaldir favors me, I will rule you not as my subjects, but as my own family.”

  She finished, and there was a general shuffle and murmuring around the gathered crowd. Beside her, Leif smiled. She didn’t have to win her people with speeches, she needed to win the coming fight.

  “Jormungand, I formally challenge you to fight for the throne of the Valdir. May the most worthy fighter win.”

  She stuck out her hand for him to shake. Jormungand grinned then. He grabbed her forearm, his skin hot against hers.

  “Let’s begin.”

  His voice made her shiver.

  Chapter 19

  A depression was cut into the earth, its sides carved with benches for seating, the center a flat expanse, a stage of sorts. Kalina stood at its center, the benches filling up around her, a buzz of chatter from the hundreds of silver-haired Valdir that lined the walls. Dragons and more of her people stood along the brim of the bowl, looking down. All eyes were on her and it made her want to run, the panic rising inside her in a crescendo until she could barely hear anything but her own heartbeat. But she was here for a reason and she wouldn’t lose sight of her goal again.

  Jormungand stood across from her, Halvor and Arvid by his side, all three of them eyeing her, trying to size her up, find a weak point. Arvid leaned towards Jormungand, a hand covering her mouth and spoke to him. He smirked, Halvor grinning beside him. Kalina swallowed hard and began focusing on her breath, hoping it would calm her racing heart.

  Suddenly, a spear was shoved into her hand and someone grasped her shoulders roughly, turning her. Leif’s face swam before her, helping to block out the sight of Jormungand stretching, his heavily muscled body on display. She was nothing, no match for such a man, and the thought of fighting him, to the death no less, terrified her beyond words.

  “Kalina,” Leif’s voice cut through her disordered thoughts. She focused on his fierce, grey eyes. “You have to focus now. You can beat him. Do you hear me?”

  She nodded numbly.

  “Play to your strengths. Remember what my father taught you.”

  She finally looked at him sharply, her panic suddenly pushed to the background. Geir had taught her the basics until it was second nature. Arvid and Asta had been her teachers as well, but they had taught her spear and knife. Geir had taught her hand-to-hand, how to fall, how to be quick. Those were lessons that she could use against someone as big as Jormungand. She nodded at Leif, her anxiety settling into a hard rock in her stomach as she adjusted her grip on the spear.

  Each fighter was allowed a spear, preferred among the Valdir, as well as a short sword and a knife. Kari strapped the latter around Kalina’s waist and looked her queen in the eyes.

  “You better come out the other side of this. I don’t know who else I’d scream at until I turned blue.”

  Her words were meant was a joke, to lighten the moment, but they helped bolster Kalina as Kari left the area, joining Leif along the first tier of benches. Jormungand stepped forward. Both fighters wore the signature red leather armor of the Valdir, and it shone in the sun from overhead. Kalina was sweating despite the cool air as Jormungand began to circle her, forcing her to move.

  She watched his feet closely, waiting for any telltale sign that he was going to make a move. Better to bide her time, let him tire himself attacking than to be the aggressor. Suddenly, with a slight shift of his feet he lunged at her, the spear outstretched to give him maximum reach. She leaned to the side, the tip of the spear brushing the edges of her leather vest, barely leaving a mark. He stepped back, his breath coming harder than before. He was testing her. She began to move, forcing him to circle this time.

  She waited, circling, her spear held at the ready until once again he shifted his feet forward, the spear flying towards her. This time she ducked and rolled, the spear passing harmlessly overhead. He’d overextended once again, and as she came to her feet in a crouch, her own spear still clutched in her hand, he was within easy reach. She lashed out, the tip of her spear sinking deep into the flesh of his leg. He grunted and almost dropped his spear and she took his momentary distraction to dart away, putting distance between them again.

  He gritted his teeth, almost snarling at her before running at her, limping slightly as he came on, as swift as a charging bull, his injury barely slowing him. Kalina had known he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice so she was ready. She waited for him in a crouch, her spear at the ready. He yelled as he charged, his spear held in both hands before him, ready to impale her. She tensed as he came within striking distance and then danced out of the way, the spear slicing her side this time, drawing blood but not impaling her as he had intended. She spun and ended up behind him as he stumbled to a halt, her own spear at his back. He turned and knocked her spear aside, discarding his own as he moved towards her, almost too quickly for her to react. Suddenly there was a hand around her throat, and she was lifted bodily from the ground.

  Kalina kicked frantically for a moment, desperate to make contact with some part of Jormungand’s body as he held her there, his face twisted with rage and desperation. She was small compared to him, barely larger than a child. But she wasn’t without defenses. She reached to her waist and pulled at the short sword, her fingers fumbling with the sheath. Finally it rang free, the blade giving her just enough reach. She stabbed out blindly, the edges of her vision beginning to go black as she tried in vain to suck in air. The blade hit something and Jormungand cried out, dropping her to the dirt. He doubled over, clutching his side where she’d stabbed him.

  She gasped, drawing ragged breaths that seared her throat as she looked at him, down on one knee, clutching his side. She stood, brushing some errant strands of sweat soaked silver hair from her face, her own blue eyes hard on his as she approached, her sword held out, coming to rest against his throat. He winced as he straightened, his hand still clutching at his side.

  The queen glared down at her subject, willing him into submission.

  “Say it,” she demanded.

  He glared at her, hating the humiliation.

  “Just kill me already.” He spat at her.

  She ignored the slight and pressed her blade harder into his throat, drawing a drop of blood.

  “Say it loud.”

  His blue eyes were cold and full of an emotion she couldn’t identify.

  That’s when she heard it, the distant screaming. Her head jerked up, as did Jormungand’s to the sound coming from beyond the gathered crowd. In the first row, Leif whispered to Kari before racing up the stairs to the top, shoving people aside. Kari stayed, her brother beside her, watching Kalina and her opponent in the ring.

  An arrow hit the ground beside Kalina and she jumped back, and for a moment, there was utter silence before chaos erupted. Her people began fleeing, most drawing their own weapons as a volley of arrows rained down upon them. Kalina thought fast and ran to a nearby discarded shield in a pile of weaponry and grabbed it. She used it to block the raining arrows as the screams became louder, some from Valdir and dragons alike.

  Maska’s big bulk landed in the depression beside her, followed by a huge red dragon. She glanced over and saw Jormungand climbing onto the dragon’s back, his spear in his hand. She’d forgotten her spear but a bow and a quiver full of arrows was sitting beside the ring, waiting for some warrior to use. She grabbed them and leapt atop Maska. Jormungand was still bleeding, his face grey. He looked over at her and nodded. They had a job to do, to protect their people. Their own feud could wait.

  Maska launched into the air above the battle that raged below them. The town of Windpost had been surrounded by an Ethean host. They had those deadly catapults on the edge of the city and were fir
ing at buildings and dragons. Kari and Rangvald were already aloft but Kalina couldn’t see Leif’s golden dragon in the sky around them. She searched the field, spying Leif and Arikara fighting side by side on the ground, protecting a small group of women and children from the onslaught of Ethea’s soldiers.

  “There!” she cried out, pointing with her bow.

  Maska dove, followed closely by the others. They landed with a boom that shook the ground, the soldiers scattering, sewing chaos for just a moment. Kalina leapt from Maska’s back to join Leif, realizing a few moments later that Jormungand was beside her.

  “Protect the children!” she yelled at him.

  The man nodded and hoisted his spear, a grimace of pain crossing his face. Leif looked at her gratefully as they and their dragons formed a circle around the women and children, those who were not trained to fight. The soldiers charged, and for a while, Kalina didn’t know how many she killed or how much time passed. She only knew that she fired arrows until there were no more, making sure each one met its mark. And then she swung her sword until her arm felt like it was going to fall off, the bodies falling around her. Beside her, Jormungand fought his hardest, his injuries slowing him down.

  A soldier pushed past the man’s defenses and Kalina saw him go down. She was already so tired she wasn’t sure how much more she could fight, but she needed Jormungand to guard her left side, as Leif was guarding her right, so she plunged through the bodies to his side, slicing the enemy’s soldier’s throat and then reaching for Jormungand’s arm, hauling him to his feet. She put her arm under his shoulder, holding him up as he looked at her gratefully, his breath coming hot and hard against her cheek. She helped him limp towards his red dragon who had the women and children huddled under its outstretched wings. She lowered him to the ground beside his dragon and then turned, expecting to have to fight until she couldn’t stand, but the battlefield before them was empty of opponents. Only the groaning and bloody bodies of those fallen in battle lay before her; the few standing Valdir, victorious.

  A cheer rose from the Valdir and their dragons at their victory, but Kalina couldn’t bring herself to cheer. She looked down, seeing the faces of the men and women who had died in the battle before her, their mangled bodies fallen across one another. It made her sick, and she turned to the side, vomiting into the dirt. This had been her first real battle. The last one had been fought on dragon back, and she’d felt removed from the action. But this time she’d seen their faces as they’d fallen, their humanity, and it made her stomach twist violently. She put a hand out to steady herself, finding the solid side of Maska before her. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve as she straightened and looked up at her brave dragon. His green scales were smeared with bright red blood, his own maw dripping with gore but his eyes were kind as he looked down on her.

  “I’m glad you are alright, Littling.”

  He intoned, his deep voice spreading some measure of warmth deep into her bones. She leaned her head against him, heedless of the blood, and let his radiating heat seep into her.

  “I’m not so sure I am,” she whispered into his scales.

  A tap on her shoulder made her turn and suddenly Leif was there, wrapping her in his strong arms. She clung to him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she tried to hold herself together, even if just for a little while longer. But she was so exhausted she had no room for tears. Not yet.

  “Your Majesty.”

  The words drew her away from Leif. Jormungand stood, one hand clutching his bloodied side, the other using his spear as a crutch to hold himself up. His red dragon stood behind him.

  “Jormungand.”

  “They are yours, your Majesty,” he said, genuine respect and admiration in his eyes now. “As am I.”

  He sank to his knees before her, bowing his head in reverence. Another crowd was gathering as they stood there.

  “Tradition says you take his head,” Kari whispered to her as she came to stand beside Kalina, her face smeared with blood, her hair coated in it. She shrugged. “But I’ve never much liked tradition.” She grinned at her cousin and Kalina found herself grinning back.

  “Rise, Jormungand.” Kalina stepped forward, limping from the ache in her bones and the myriad of injuries she hadn’t begun to take stock of. “I could use someone like you on my council, if you’ll accept.”

  Jormungand’s blue eyes widened.

  “I need someone who has lived in the villages, who knows my people’s hardships, and who isn’t afraid to question me.” She held his gaze. It took every ounce of strength she had left to do this, hoping she had just gained a powerful ally.

  “I would be honored, your Majesty.”

  He bowed his head and then struggled to stand, grunting in pain. Kalina clapped him on the shoulder and then turned to the gathered people, fighters and villagers alike.

  “We may have won this battle, but we haven’t yet won the war. But I won’t sit in that mountain any longer and watch as my people suffer. We will attack them where it hurts most. We will take back our kingdom and Ethea. Together, as one people.”

  A cheer went up at her words and Kalina’s insides began to shake. She was completely exhausted but she smiled and waved before allowing Kari to help her to a still standing building. It took everything she had to walk upright through the door, but the moment it closed behind her, she collapsed to the floor.

  Chapter 20

  Kari helped her queen to a chair at a rough-hewn table, and Kalina sat with a grunt of pain. She winced as her cousin’s deft fingers began to loosen the straps that held her leather armor in place and let out a sigh of relief when its weight was lifted from her shoulders.

  But that’s when Kari hissed. Kalina looked down, the cotton shirt she wore beneath the armor was soaked in red, spreading out from a wound in her side. She vaguely remembered Jormungand’s blade slicing her side but she had thought it was just a flesh wound, not the gaping hole this felt like. Kari lifted her shirt and poured water on the wound washing away the blood and Kalina had to look away, her head swimming with pain.

  The door to the little house banged open and Leif stood in the doorway, Jormungand close on his heels. Leif’s eyes were full of concern as he entered, going to a knee before her and clutching her hands.

  “Is it bad?”

  Kalina wanted to laugh at the concern in his voice, but realized a laugh might not be appropriate in that moment. Perhaps the stress and strain of the last few hours were getting to her after all. She gritted her teeth as Kari inspected the wound.

  “Not that bad. It’s a bleeder, but not too deep. No organs damaged. I’ll sew it up and she’ll have another new scar!” She said this last part with delight, slapping Kalina on the back.

  The breath whooshed out of her lungs and it took a moment to catch her breath as her cousin chuckled and began to sew the skin back together.

  “How many did we lose?” Kalina asked through her teeth.

  Leif’s face fell as he stood and began to pace. Behind him, Jormungand sat heavily in a chair and began removing his own armor, placing it by the small fireplace. Kalina realized with a jolt that this must be his house, his home. And here she was, bleeding all over it.

  “At first glance, maybe a hundred, perhaps more. This was a small raid, only five hundred men attacked with siege weapons.”

  He went quiet as he thought. Jormungand was trying to clean his own wounds but he spoke up.

  “Perhaps it was a diversion. You moved the Emberweed, correct?” Leif paused briefly in his pacing as Kalina’s heart rate shot up at the prospect of Ethea destroying their meager crop. But Leif waved a hand in dismissal.

  “There’s no way they know about that. Only a handful of people know where we planted it. But that’s a good point. Either they are testing us, picking us off, or it’s a diversion. But a diversion from what?”

  Kalina thought while Kari finished the neat stitches in her side. It was now a dull ache, one that she could, with effort, shove to the ba
ck of her mind. She stood, motioning for Jormungand to take her place and let Kari sew his wounds as well.

  “Where else would they attack-” she trailed off as horror flooded through her.

  “The mountain,” she and Leif exclaimed at the same time.

  They had left with most of their small force of warriors, leaving Eira to keep the women, children, and elderly safe. It would be the perfect place to attack, while they were away.

  “We have to get there. Now.” She began to buckle her own armor back on, wincing as it put pressure on her wound. Leif put a hand on her arm, stopping her mid movement.

  “Yes, but not you. You need to stay here. Stay safe.”

  His eyes were warm grey pools, holding her in place. But she deliberately removed her arm from his hand.

  “I will not abandon my people. Not now when this is all my fault.”

  Jormungand stood, trying to pull his shirt back on.

  “It’s not your fault, my Queen. It’s mine. If I hadn’t challenged your rule, split our forces, and forced you into taking this action then we wouldn’t be in this mess.” He began to reach for his armor. “I’m coming with you.”

  Kari grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the small bed in the corner.

  “Oh no you don’t. You have lost a lot of blood. You need to rest. Leave the heroics to more able-bodied people.” She grinned at him and grabbed her weapons off the table where she’d left them. “After you, your Majesty.”

  Kalina grinned back at her cousin, grateful that whatever bad feelings had been between them over her leaving were finally dissipating. Leif huffed in frustration but followed them out, giving a few orders to Rangvald who had just joined them.

  Kalina limped to Maska’s side, checking him over for any major wounds. Suddenly she felt guilty for not doing it sooner, but she would have known through the deep magic that bound them if he had been severely injured. She paused for a moment, pressing her forehead into his scaled side, breathing in the musty, wind-kissed scent of him, letting it ground her before pulling herself stiffly up into his saddle.