by Jason Kenyon
Ithalna stumbled out of Anjilo’s arms and gave a quick curtsey. ‘Thank you, milady Dawnfield. I did not think I would make it.’
Anjilo raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Y’know, you didn’t have to destroy the entire bridge.’
They looked around to see the paladins fumbling their way to the shore, appearing to be most unhappy with life right now. Ithalna and Anjilo caught each other’s eye and then laughed.
‘My face,’ Archimegadon said from the ground where he’d landed.
Mellara crouched next to him and poked his shoulder. ‘Having trouble there, old man?’
Archimegadon rolled onto his back and glared up at the blue sky. ‘This entire journey has been one disaster after another.’
Checking behind herself, Mellara watched the nearby travellers still fleeing the dangerous adventurers and grinned. ‘I don’t think we’re the only ones who feel that way.’
Chapter Thirteen: Lia
A shadow emerged from the trees on the border of the small village of Felendras. Topping a ridge that afforded an expansive view of the surrounding plains of Valanthas, Felendras was the famed home of former hero Elbert, one of many mages who made their name from battling the necromancers who served Tel Ariel, last true ruler of the Tarmunath Empire. While Elbert’s fame had drawn many people to Felendras, he had insisted on preserving the quiet village atmosphere, and out of deference to him, the village elders had prevented most expansion of the village after the war.
With no walls to contain it, and a minimal amount of paving, Felendras was probably the closest one could get to living in the wild in Valanthas beyond actually doing so. There was a central square, or really a circle, where people set up stalls and traded, but for the most part the houses were surrounded by bare grass, and the slopes of the ridge were largely covered in pine trees. At the ridge’s highest point was the sombre graveyard, where many war heroes had been brought to rest, surrounded by their families, granting them a permanent quiet bed from which to look over the land they’d died to protect.
Valia’s eye twitched as all this ran through her head. It had been a long time since her last visit to her old home, but it was no different now. She swallowed as forgotten feelings rushed back – threads of her life before her departure returning as though she’d gone back in time. It almost seemed like, rather than taking up her career as a knight, she could instead stay and sort out all those things she’d never finished.
Pulling her cloak tight about her, she made straight for her old home, taking care not to attract any notice. It was early morning, and she’d yet to see anyone about, but given how things were right now it would only take one wrong person to cause her a lot of trouble. Fortune favoured her, and she found herself placing her hand on the cold door handle without being seen. Perhaps it was the sensation of coming back that had her off-balance, but she found herself withdrawing her hand hastily as the cold shot through her, before muttering an insult at herself for being so soft.
Valia gave the door a try, but it was locked. She blinked; she was still used to the days when her parents had always left the door unlocked. Old habits… she snorted at herself for getting sentimental. Fishing in her pocket, she found the old key – hexagonal bow – and gave it a quick turn. That done, she slipped inside, shut the door right away, and locked up again.
Folding her arms, Valia looked around the entry hall. Not much different, as expected. She wasn’t sure if anyone would be in, but she realised that someone had been there recently. The plants had probably been watered within the past hour, and unless there was magic at play (a scornful smile played across her lips), then somebody had been doing the dusting. Valia poked her head into the living room, but nobody was in. A shiver ran through her, and she dodged round the small table to the fireplace.
Valia caught her sword on the table as she knelt down, and hissed with impatience. Getting up again, she took off her cloak, shield, and scabbard, draping the former around the back of the nearest chair, and carefully placing the rest on the table. That done, she returned to the business of lighting a fire, thankful that someone had left out a plentiful supply of wood for the purpose. She warmed herself for a minute before raising up to full height and stretching, only to feel a jolt as she came face to face with the empty space over the mantelpiece that Uldraxios, her family glaive, had once occupied. Somewhere in the forests surrounding the ruins of Aldrack, that polearm most likely still lay, perhaps claimed by the wilderness already.
Shaking her head, Valia went back into the hall and pondered whether to call out. Some of her former awkwardness had already come back – she cursed herself for lapsing so easily into her younger ways – and she didn’t want to wake anyone if they were still sleeping. Instead, she shut the doors to the living room to help it warm up, and went upstairs to check whether her old room was as she remembered.
Creeping along the corridor reminded her of sneaking out at night for snacks, and being caught on several occasions too. She’d also had a shouting match with her father here about becoming a knight, an argument that, to this day, she felt she’d won, even though she’d been banished to her room by force of shouting volume alone. Valia blinked, as if doing so would somehow clear away the old bitterness. She was here for a break, after all.
She smirked as she passed her brothers’ room. They’d each had their own bedroom, until Valia had arrived on the scene. Apparently the two brothers had been most aggrieved to be forced to live together in the same room, but the Relassis parents had been quite firm that girls needed their privacy, and so Valia had stolen her own room shortly after she was born.
Valia gave the door at the end of the upstairs hall a try, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it had been lovingly preserved in advance of her return. It was cold as a tomb, though, and had suffered a minor takeover by dust, so Valia made an ineffective attempt to brush a load of it away. She’d never been much of a one for going around cleaning everything, but she had occasionally enjoyed stirring up clouds in Torrell’s face with her mother’s feather duster.
She sat on her bed for a minute and let her thoughts run unchecked, when she heard a slight noise downstairs and surged to her feet. While she doubted it would be anyone undesirable, she also quickly put together a plan to get back to her sword if anything untoward happened. As she skipped down the steps she saw it wasn’t any trouble – it was her family’s old dog, Awla.
Small, white, furry and completely blind, little Awla was nonetheless on the trail of whoever had started making noise in the house. Valia crouched down in front of Awla with a smile and held out the back of her hand for Awla to check. Nose twitching, Awla investigated Valia’s hand, and then her little tail began wagging, and she lunged up to lick Valia’s face. Giggling, Valia set to scratching Awla just behind her ears, ignoring the drenching she was suffering.
As Awla’s little sniffing nose came level with Valia’s eyes, however, the tail stopped, and the little dog suddenly dropped back to all fours and backed away. She let out a low whimper and the vaguest of growls, turning side-on to Valia but keeping her nose in Valia’s direction.
‘Come on, Awla,’ Valia said, her face falling. She reached out the back of her hand again, but Awla was having none of it, and backed away further still.
Valia let out a sigh and got to her feet, just as she heard steps outside, and moments later a key in the lock. She edged towards the living room door, reaching a hand towards the handle ready to dart inside.
Cold air rushed in as the door opened, and in walked a man of Valia’s height, with a thick brown mop of hair and a scruffy beard to match. Green eyes rose to take in the sight of Valia, and then he let out a laugh and dropped his satchel, racing forward to embrace her. Valia hugged him back, forgetting herself for a moment. The man then withdrew and scratched at his hair as he regarded her.
‘Little Lia, what are you doing here?’ he asked. ‘I’ve not seen you in Light knows how long.’
‘Heya Kherim,’ Valia said with a s
mile. Her eyes flicked down, and then back up to meet his again. ‘I thought I should check in on you.’
Kherim’s face changed from smiling to serious in an instant. ‘Your eyes, Lia… so it was you they meant?’
Valia folded her arms and looked off to one side. ‘Which one of the stories have you heard?’
‘The Paladin Order has a bounty out on you,’ Kherim replied. ‘They’re saying that you were involved in cultist plots in Aldrack and Ferrina. I’d hoped by chance that it was a different Valia… with the same surname… at the city you moved to… in the same order of knights… but it was a lot to hope for.’
‘Things got… complicated,’ Valia said. ‘Can we go in the other room? It’s cold out here.’
Kherim lifted his satchel. ‘Got some stuff to store first. Give me a moment.’ His eyes fell on Awla as he made for the kitchen. ‘What’s got her spooked? Have you been teasing her?’
‘No - what have you been telling her about me?’ Valia asked, her tone humorous but with a shiver of uncertainty behind it.
‘Can’t say we talk about you much,’ Kherim replied. He threw her a quick grin. ‘You don’t write much, after all. Nothing new for us to work with.’
‘Like you’d be interested in hearing about guarding peasants in a dead village,’ Valia said, following her brother into the kitchen. She watched him storing some of his supplies for a moment before catching herself and lending a hand.
‘Thanks,’ Kherim said, taking off his coat and slinging it across the nearest chair. ‘Let’s get to the fire, shall we? Did you start it already?’
‘You know me and cold,’ Valia replied, a ghostly grin coming to her.
They settled in the other room, and Awla crept in after them, finding a safe hiding spot behind Kherim’s ankles. Valia tugged a chair closer to the fire and waved her fingers around in front of it, trying to get some warmth flowing into them again.
‘So, Kher, what have you been up to?’ Valia asked.
‘Not long back here, actually,’ Kherim replied. He reached a hand down to pet Awla. ‘I was posted over at the Luchess Valley in Tarmuna, watching over a refugee camp nearby. This little scrap was staying with the Verwicks, since Torrell is still over in Deyna, but I picked her up yesterday.’
‘I see,’ Valia said. No wonder he’d not shunned her as soon as he’d seen her – maybe he’d not learned the full truth of what she’d done yet.
An awkward silence filled the space between the two siblings, and then Kherim cleared his throat.
‘Lia, I’m glad to see you, but by the Light, you’re a wanted woman these days,’ Kherim said. ‘Have you been framed? What’s going on?’
Valia ran a hand through her hair and sighed. She didn’t even particularly understand that herself, these days. She looked over at him helplessly.
‘Oh, Kher, I’ve done all sorts of things,’ she said. ‘I don’t even know where to start.’
Kherim’s expression was grave. ‘If you don’t want to tell me, I will understand. But you are my sister, and I will look out for you always, even if you do make mistakes.’
Valia couldn’t bear it. She found herself crying before she could stop it, and swore loudly at herself for doing it. As she made another attempt to stem the tears, she felt Kherim’s arms around her and grabbed hold of him, weeping into his shoulder. It was a relief, and she shuddered as all the suppressed feelings rushed through her, uncontrollable.
She wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but eventually Kherim let her go, and she tugged her legs in close to herself as she sat on the chair, exhausted.
‘How do you feel?’ Kherim asked.
Valia let out a long breath. ‘So tired.’
‘Do you want to visit mother and father?’ Kherim asked. ‘Do you think that will help?’
‘I don’t think anything can help,’ Valia replied. ‘But can we go?’
‘Now?’
Valia nodded at him over her knees.
Kherim smiled encouragingly at her. ‘Alright, come on then.’
*
Valia was uneasy standing out in the open, but she somehow felt safe with Kherim here. She wore one of her old green scarves, which she’d wrapped up round half her face. Her cheeks were red in the sharp cold, and she shivered as the wind blew her hair across her face. Kherim looked at her questioningly, and she nodded at him, blinking as she became conscious of his eyes lingering over her red irises.
She knelt on the grass and put a hand to the twin headstone at her parents’ grave. It felt wrong to be here, after what she’d done. They’d both held to a strong sense of justice, based on what they’d been taught and made to believe growing up. Valia had thrown all of it away and gone in the opposite direction completely, and done things she regretted and could never take back.
All her betrayals, all the killings and deaths… had any of it meant anything? The dream was over, and she had little of the powers or advantages that her dark alliances had given her. She wanted to put her service to Marr down to fear, but she knew that hadn’t been it, not entirely. He’d made her feel important, and given her petty need for revenge the satisfaction it had craved, right up until she’d touched minds with Ardon.
She dropped her hands to her lap as she knelt there on both knees, and bowed her head. Now that she was hunted by the paladins, did she actually have a chance to change things? She could stop her enemies and help the people who were suffering at the same time, rather than having both come into conflict. Would it be enough?
‘They missed you,’ Kherim said.
‘I didn’t think it would happen so soon,’ Valia said. ‘At least they got to see me knighted. Can’t believe it’s been two years.’
‘What do you think you’ll do from here?’ Kherim asked.
‘I have to finish what I started,’ Valia replied.
‘Don’t get yourself killed,’ Kherim said.
Valia smiled up at him. ‘Not my plan, Kher.’
‘Look, I know you don’t want to talk about it,’ Kherim said, ‘and I’m going to pretend I don’t know what they’ve been saying, but Lia, listen. Our family has always prided itself on being honest and faithful, and the name Relassis has been associated with loyalty to Valanthas over the centuries. Don’t do anything to ruin that.’
‘Kher, you always have to be so lofty,’ Valia said. ‘Not everything is as black and white as you describe it.’
‘No, you’re right,’ Kherim said. ‘But Lia – some things are clearly wrong, and we both know that.’
Valia couldn’t meet his gaze, and looked away.
‘Try to think about what you’re really attempting to do,’ Kherim said. ‘Do your plans actually go any way towards doing that?’
‘I don’t know!’ Valia replied. ‘Everything is wrong in Valanthas these days.’
‘Maybe so,’ Kherim said. ‘You sure you want to go changing the whole kingdom when you can’t make up your own mind, though?’
Valia threw him a glare. ‘I’ll work it out,’ she replied. ‘I just need to think it over some.’
‘Can I help you at all?’
Valia looked back at her parents’ grave and wondered what they’d say if they knew what she’d done. She was certain they’d turn their backs on her. She knew Kherim would turn away too… and Torrell. If she met herself from before joining Bartell, she was pretty sure the old Valia would be disgusted by her as well.
But if she couldn’t make up for what she’d done, then was there any purpose in trying to be nice now? If she was already stained by blood beyond repair, surely that meant she no longer had to worry about getting her hands dirty – giving her freedom to do what needed to be done.
‘I’ll make my own way from here,’ Valia replied eventually. ‘Thank you for putting up with me, Kher.’
‘Will you come back?’ Kherim asked.
Valia rose to her feet and took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I’ll keep your room tidied for you,’ Kherim said.
‘Thank you,’ Valia said. ‘I’ll see you around, Kher.’
Kherim nodded to her, and Valia walked away, heading for the shadows of the forest once more.
Chapter Fourteen: An Empty Throne
Salestis glared at the doors of the meeting chambers. She was fast coming to associate this damn place with getting a headache, which was the common result of speaking to the Central Council these days.
It was a shame, because they’d been fairly useful to her at first. Afraid to act after the King’s assassination, they’d been all too eager to take on Salestis’s suggestion that she and her army of paladins could put Valanthas back in shape, but now they were being petulant. She supposed it was only natural; it was common for people who produced nothing to attempt to tear down the works of those who made things happen.
She allowed the paladin guards to open the doors for her – apparently, the more powerful you were, the less capable you were – and strode in, mindful of Lyssina at her side. Her aide had been quiet for the last few days, and she was pretty sure it was because of her thoughts on the Shield’s plans with the Syrakh. It probably wouldn’t matter too much, though – Lyssina was far too eager to please her to cause any trouble.
The Central Council had arranged themselves around the table in front of the stand where they would sit in judgement during a trial, and Aleks had been nominated to be their lead speaker again, as she had taken a position at the centre of the table, with all the other councillors watching her quietly. Salestis stopped at the edge of the table and slid out a chair. Rather than using it herself, she offered it to Lyssina, who nervously sat on it off to the side. Salestis stood at the empty spot at the table, always preferring it as a position of power in relation to those who were seated.
‘The Light bids you all a good day,’ Salestis said, though she did not extend the same sentiment herself. After another moment’s thought, she then gave the paladin salute.
