A War for Truth

by M. Lynn

  Before they reached the others, Alixa stopped. “Rissa, you know I’m here, right? We didn’t exactly start on the best of terms, but I know what it’s like to lose your best friend. My maid—”

  “Davi wasn’t my best friend,” Rissa cut in. “Most of the time we couldn’t stand each other. He was annoying.”

  “But you loved him.”

  Rissa looked away.

  Alixa sighed. “If you won’t talk to me, you should at least talk to your brother. You’ve both done your best to avoid each other, but maybe you need him. I know for a fact he needs you.”

  Rissa pushed past her. “I don’t need anyone.”

  She rejoined the others before Alixa could respond. Avery handed her a tin mug of tea as she sat. The flames warmed her face, but that heat didn’t permeate the skin. On the inside, she was just as cold as she’d been before.

  As night descended, a silence stretched between them, broken only by the roar of a mountain cat in the distance. Lona’s sad eyes burned into her as Briggs tried to goad her into conversation. She ignored him and leaned against her pack. As she closed her eyes, she imagined Davi’s laughter cutting through the tension of the night.

  The crunch of snow had Trystan shooting up from where he half dozed beside the fire. He rolled sideways to grab his sword and sprang to his feet just as the sound of clashing swords reached his ears. After running towards the commotion, he came to a stop, the sight before him sending a shock through his system.

  Two Isenore soldiers had found their camp, but Lonara fought them fervently. Her magic wasn’t the weapon she chose. Instead, she blocked and parried with a long, thin sword that gleamed in the early morning light.

  Her movements were swift, sure, as she moved gracefully.

  “Help would be appreciated,” she called to Trystan.

  He snapped out of his momentary daze and jumped into the fray.

  “King Calis is going to gut all Dreach-Sciene scum,” one of the soldiers snarled.

  Trystan grunted as he shuffled his feet and pushed his opponent so his back was against a tree. “All I hear is blah blah, I’m a bloody traitor.”

  It was something Davi would have said and Trystan found his smirk dropping.

  Lonara knocked her soldier’s sword away and swept his legs out from under him. He landed with a thud, the tip of her sword pressed to the hollow of his throat.

  “Are there others?” she asked.

  Trystan forced his opponent to drop his weapon and kept him pinned to the tree. After a few moments, the soldier stopped struggling.

  “We won’t tell you anything,” he growled before spitting in Trystan’s face.

  With his hands occupied, Trystan couldn’t wipe the spittle away, and it dripped down his face as the Isenore traitor grinned.

  Trystan slammed his knee into the man’s gut, eliciting a grunt of pain. “How many know where we are?”

  The man shouted curses at Trystan rather than giving him any answers.

  Suddenly, he went quiet and jerked before he slumped in Trystan’s arms. An arrow protruded from the side of his head.

  Trystan let him fall to the ground and wiped his face as the twang of another loosed arrow sliced through the air. He turned slowly, knowing what he’d find but hoping he was wrong.

  “Rissa Renauld,” Lonara shrieked as she stood over the dead soldier at her feet. “What is the matter with you?”

  Rissa stepped from where the trees hid her and shrugged as she fingered her bow. “They wouldn’t have told you anything.”

  Trystan marched over to confront his sister. “What if we have a whole troop of soldiers after us?”

  She met his glare unflinchingly. “They were traitors. They deserved to die.” Her voice was devoid of any sign of life and Trystan shrank away from her. That was not his sister. She wasn’t cold, heartless. Not Rissa.

  Lonara shook her head. “I would expect a daughter of Marissa Kane to have something inside her head besides air and anger.”

  The sorceress trudged by them without another word.

  How was Trystan supposed to help his sister when every part of his soul was broken as well?

  Rissa wasn’t the one who’d broken the promise to prevent Davi’s capture. Trystan put a hand on the nearby tree to steady himself and closed his eyes, trying to rid his mind of the images that plagued him every day. Davi knocking the soldiers away from Trystan. Davi struggling to break free. The acceptance entering his eyes. His pleas for Trystan to fulfill his promise.

  “Ri…” He opened his eyes but stopped when he saw her standing over the dead men, not a flicker of emotion on her face.

  “We’re going to kill them all.” She plucked at the string of her bow. “Dreach-Dhoun is going to run red.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. There was nothing he could say to fill the hole inside of her.

  “We need to get moving.” He turned and walked back towards the others, leaving behind the girl he no longer recognized.

  Where was his sister?

  They packed up their few supplies and hit the road once again. The day was slightly warmer than the one before, but the world was still bathed in white.

  Trystan blew on his hands and sped up to match Lonara’s stride. Her long-sword was strapped across her back.

  “So,” he began. “You can fight.”

  She nodded shortly. “How do you think your mother learned?”

  “I wasn’t aware my mother knew any of the Tri-Gard.”

  “Dear boy, there is so much you don’t know.” She paused almost as if considering how much she should tell him. “Your mother was like a daughter to me. Her death was the greatest tragedy of my long life.”

  He scrunched his brow. How could a member of the Tri-Gard think one person’s death was worse than the tragedy she’d forced on the rest of the kingdom? “If you loved her so much, why did you choose a different side in the war?”

  It was her turn to look confused. “I fought for Dreach-Sciene. For your mother. I forsook my sacred vow of neutrality to protect her. What happened later—draining the magic—that was forced upon me.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Can you tell me about her? My father rarely speaks of her… almost as if he wants to forget.”

  A smile warmed her dark face. “Marcus Renauld would never forget. A love that strong would not fade. I’ve never seen anyone else like Marissa and Marcus. I helped raise the girl, but your father brought her to life. Even though it was for too short a time. They were beautiful.”

  He didn’t ask any more questions after that. Trystan had never completely understood his father. There was a part of the man that had always been closed off, held back. Now he realized that maybe that part died with his mother.

  Trystan had very few memories of her. Just the occasional image of a woman who looked very much like Rissa.

  Having someone with him who’d known her was almost like having his mother with them, watching them.

  As soon as they stopped traipsing across the mountains and found a village, he’d send word to his father. The news about Davi would hurt him as well. He’d loved him as a son from the moment he’d brought him home. But knowing Trystan and Rissa were still okay might bring him some comfort.

  That night as the fire thawed the icicles that had grown along his cloak, he sat silently beside his sister. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t move away either.

  They’d get through it. Together. And then they’d get their revenge.

  Chapter 2

  Someone was coming.

  Trystan swore under his breath as he tried to conceal himself behind the snow-laden tree stump he’d been resting on.

  They were almost on top of him. He’d been wallowing so much in his worry over Ri, and his need to be alone for a few minutes to pull his head together that he hadn’t heard them until now. After the attack days before, he should have been on high alert and wanted to kick himself for letting them be found. Again.

  Whoev
er was approaching wasn’t any of his people. He’d left their Eastern camp before sunrise, his dreams still too haunting to allow sleep. These sounds came from the West. Someone else was making their way through the Isenore mountains, and with the way lady luck had been taunting them lately, it was more likely foe than friend.

  The sun rose at his back. That was in his favor at least. The shadow cast by the background of trees would hopefully keep him hidden while he observed the newcomers. A few soldiers he could handle if he took them by surprise. Even without Lonara’s help. A regiment was a whole other story.

  The quiet neighing of horses and the occasional snapping of a twig were the only signs of their approach, but Trystan’s fingers tapped silently against the hilt of his sword, readying for battle. His heart thumped against his ribs, and he tried to calm his frazzled energy. If Davi were here, he would have made some stupid joke by now to break the tension. But Davi wasn’t here. Ri’s accusatory glare reminded him of that every time she looked his way. His stupid desire for solitude had left him alone in the woods against the unknown, imminent threat. He no longer had his brother to watch his back. That harsh realization only fueled his anger instead of his fright, and he began to hope it was enemy soldiers. Nothing like a battle to take the edge off one’s anger.

  It didn’t take long for the horses to make their way through the sea of dead trees. The sun’s rays highlighted the steel blades of two men flanking the women on horseback. The men were soldiers, their uniforms hidden under snow speckled furs, but Trystan swore he caught a glimpse of the Isenore colors and his grip tightened on his blade. The last group of Isenore soldiers had tried to kill them. This was not looking so good.

  He would have attacked already if it weren’t for the women. The young girl and the older matron were no soldiers. He could tell that, even from afar. Their postures in the saddle were perfect, and their furs of the finest quality, despite the well-worn look. Nobles. Trystan stayed hidden a bit longer, his curiosity piqued. What the hell were nobles doing this far up in the mountains?

  “Are you sure we are going the right way, Anna?” The older lady’s voice floated through the quiet, the refined tone bringing with it the familiarity of court. No, she definitely was not a soldier.

  “Yes, Mother. The aura of magic is waning, no doubt, but it still shows me the way. We are getting closer to the magic wielder. May we stop so I can concentrate?”

  The older lady motioned to the soldiers and all four horses came to a halt.

  Trystan could hardly believe his eyes as the young girl lowered her cloak and breathed deeply as if she were trying to draw in the magic’s very essence. Understanding set in. This girl was a seer, drawn here by Briggs’ magic. Alarm stiffened his spine. Who was she?

  Before he could react, a stealthy form shifted quietly from the shadows at his back and crouched by his side.

  “Toha.” Avery’s use of his title was a mere whisper, but Trystan heard the underlining reprimand. She was mad at him for wandering off by himself.

  No time to worry about her anger. He pointed to the left flanking soldier, and she nodded, readying her bow. At his urging, Avery let loose an arrow that missed the soldier on purpose and embedded in the tree inches above his head. They reacted quickly, he’d give them that. In the blink of an eye, the soldiers yanked the woman from their horses and boxed them in between themselves and their beasts.

  “Show yourselves,” the right soldier growled as he held his blade in Trystan’s direction. The prince had no intention of doing any such thing.

  “We are the ones with a bow trained on your women. You don’t make demands on us.”

  To his surprise, the older woman stood upright and pushed her way past the soldier’s restraining hand.

  “I am Lady Yaro, wife of Hendry Yaro, and mistress of Cullenspire Manor. How dare you take a shot at one of my guards?”

  Trystan was more than a little taken aback at her demanding tone. There was no mistaking the sincerity of her words.

  “Cullenspire Manor? If memory serves me correctly, that is a vassal in Isenore territory, is it not? And last I heard, Lord Eisner was a traitor to the king. Do you follow the same path, Lady Yaro? For if so, my archers surrounding you at the moment are excellent shots and will not miss.”

  “You take me for a fool, boy? That arrow came from where you hide. There are no archers in the trees, just like there are no coins in our purse if you’re aiming to rob us. If you wish for me to answer your question, then stop being a coward and show yourself.”

  Trystan scowled but stood upright even as Avery shook her head in disagreement. He motioned for her to stay hidden as he stepped from the shadows, his sword loose in his grip in what he hoped was an unthreatening gesture.

  “I’m no bandit, my lady,” he said. “But to reiterate my question, do you follow in Lord Eisner’s footsteps? Are you a traitor to King Marcus Renauld?”

  She narrowed her eyes his way. “I don’t know if that’s a trick question or not, boy, for how am I to know if you yourself aren’t an Eisner follower? You have not revealed your identity. But regardless of where your loyalties lie, I have no qualms with telling you where mine do. I am no follower of Lord Eisner.” She spat his name in contempt. “Not only is he a traitor to the king I follow with the deepest of loyalty, but he is also why I stand before you a grieving widow. The reason why my children are left fatherless. The reason my eldest son has already died in the Dreach-Dhoun dungeons and my second son has left home to fight in a war we have little chance of winning. And the reason why I am traipsing through these god-forsaken mountains searching for the few people who may offer us a sliver of hope. Now, if you are indeed a man of Isenore, then step forward and accept your fate. For while I live, I’ll order the execution of every single follower of his that has the misfortune to cross my path.”

  Surprise coursed through Trystan, but before he could respond, a disbelieving, “Dona Yaro,” echoed through the trees. Their exchange had drawn the rest of Trystan’s party. Alixa, Edric, and Rissa followed behind Lonara, their weapons drawn and ready, eyeballing the Isenore soldiers with distrust.

  “Mistress Lonara?” Shock painted the older lady’s voice as her face paled to match the falling snow. She forgot about Trystan as she stumbled toward the Tri-Gard member, her hand held to her heart like she feared it would jump from her chest and splatter at her feet. “It is really you. When my dearest Anna said she felt a magical disturbance, I knew it had to be one of the Tri-Gard, back to save us. I told my people you would not abandon us forever. Oh my, what a glorious day to have found you. I thought we’d never meet again.”

  The old lady fell to her knees as she grabbed Lonara’s hands and raised them to her lips, dropping a kiss on each knuckle. Tears ran down the wrinkled cheeks as Lonara gently pulled the woman back to standing and wiped her tears away. The Tri-Gard’s familiarity and fond smile put Trystan at ease and he sheathed his weapon.

  “It is good to see you as well, old friend. It has been far too long. But your words raise concern. The trail left by the magic is still traceable? I’d feared as much, but hoped it was growing too faint to follow.”

  Lady Yaro called to her daughter over her shoulder and the young girl approached, wide-eyed and pale. “Anna, answer the Mistress’s question.”

  “It is still traceable, yes, but is growing weaker. We’ve been following it for a few days. It’s why we came. We needed to find you.”

  Lonara’s troubled eyes met Trystan’s. “You must pack up camp and make a swift departure.”

  Lady Yaro glanced back and forth between the two in puzzlement. “This arrogant bandit is traveling with you?”

  Trystan ignored Alixa’s slight snort at the lady’s assumption. Even Lonara’s lips twitched despite her concern. “He is no bandit, Lady Yaro. Let me introduce you to Prince Trystan Renauld and his sister, Princess Rissa.” She waved a hand Rissa’s way, and the girl nodded her head in greeting.

  The look of horror on the lady’s fac
e would have been funny if it weren’t for the worrisome news she’d just imparted.

  “Prince? Oh, my goodness. Your Highness, I am so sorry.” Her curtsy was awkward with embarrassment. “Please forgive my impertinence. I did not recognize you.”

  “No need to apologize, my lady. Your answer to my allegiance question is the most reassuring I’ve heard in quite some time. But Lona is right. We don’t have time to stand here talking. We need to make haste and you need to remove yourselves from our company. It won’t end well for either of you if you are found with us.”

  The older lady pulled herself back to full height, regaining her composure once again. “Thank you for your concern, your Highness, but we aren’t going anywhere. Not without what we came here to find. Anna was not only able to feel the magic but also your distress. We came here looking for the Tri-Gard member, but we also came to offer our aid. More will be looking for you. We need to get you back to Cullenspire. It will be the perfect place to hide you, right in the belly of the beast.”

  “Why do you offer your help?” Rissa’s unexpected words were as frigid as the mountain air as she stepped out of the shadows of the forest. “You are from Isenore. Why should we trust you?”

  “Rissa,” Trystan admonished, and his sister’s icy gaze fell on him.

  “What?” she questioned. “It’s not like you aren’t all thinking the same. Alixa, Avery, Edric, do you not all feel the same?”

  “I understand your distrust, Princess.” Lady Yaro was the one to answer Rissa. “Yes, I am from Isenore, but my allegiance does not lie with Lord Eisner. On the contrary, there’s nothing more I wish to see than that man’s head rotting on a stake on my manor wall.” Trystan winced at the harsh comment and glanced Alixa’s way, but she seemed impervious to Lady Yaro’s words. “I can feel your sorrow from here. You’ve lost much. So have I, but we can’t let that impede us from doing what we can to fight back. Protecting the Tri-Gard is the first step. Although I’m surprised you slipped up, Lona, and used your magic. You of all people know how dangerous that can be.”