The Legend of Oescienne--The Reckoning (Book Five) Read online

  That new sense of peace and purpose dimmed a little, however, when she and Dervit reached their own camp for the night. It was situated at the top of a slight incline, their bedrolls laid out beneath a small grotto fenced off on one side by large stones and a screen of trees. Not entirely protected by the on-and-off drizzle, but enough to keep their fire dry. A pair of snarling voices brought them up short when they were only a few yards away.

  Jahrra put out a hand to stop Dervit, and he looked up at her.

  “It sounds like Jaax and Ellyesce,” he murmured.

  Jahrra nodded. It was Jaax and Ellyesce. She was much taller than her limbit friend and could see over the large stones blocking his view. Like her and Dervit, the Tanaan dragon and the elf had shed their armor. The flicker of firelight glowed behind them, and Jaax was pacing. Well, at least as much as the confined space afforded him.

  “All I asked of you was to remain by her side and make sure she avoided confronting the enemy,” the dragon seethed, trying, but failing, to keep his voice down. He turned sharply, great tail whipping around and almost clipping Ellyesce.

  The elf, to his credit, stood his ground. Arms crossed over his chest, he didn’t so much as flinch as Jaax’s tail came within inches of him.

  “I was by her side, Jaax. I cast a protective shield around us. We were charging the enemy, and I did the best I could. What more do you want from me?”

  Jaax let out a frustrated snarl and leveled his head with Ellyesce. “I want to know how Jahrra ended up trapped by a gang of broehr with you several yards away. To me, that reeks of sloppiness.”

  Jahrra was still far enough away that she could not see their faces, but by the way Ellyesce grew absolutely still, she knew he was angry. As she would have been had she stood in his place. Never had she heard Jaax speak to his elvin friend in such a harsh manner.

  “Come on, Dervit,” she muttered under her breath, her boots eating up the distance to the alcove.

  “Shouldn’t we stay out of it?” Dervit squeaked, even though he jogged after her.

  “No. Since this argument is clearly about me, I think I have a right to butt in.”

  Jaax blinked in surprise when Jahrra charged into view, coming to stand between him and Ellyesce. She crossed her arms and gave Jaax a cool look. “What on Ethoes is going on?”

  The dragon’s expression didn’t waver. He bared his teeth and said, “This is between me and Ellyesce, Jahrra.”

  “No,” she said with some venom, “I’m between you and Ellyesce at the moment, and you will stop chastising him for losing track of me during the fight. It wasn’t his fault.”

  Jaax drew himself up to his full height, menace pouring off him in heavy waves. Jahrra stood her ground, her stubborn nature easily going toe to toe with his might.

  “His one task was to keep you out of danger,” he growled, voice dangerously low.

  Unfortunately for Jaax, Jahrra was used to her guardian’s black moods.

  “And he did everything he could to make that happen. You weren’t there when the broehr surged forward, pulling us apart. There was nothing Ellyesce could have done to stop it.”

  Jaax’s eyes flicked to the elf standing just behind her and remained fixed there when he hissed in a cutting tone, “No, I don’t blame him for that. I blame him for not returning to your side the moment the shield was shattered. He is at fault because he got distracted.”

  That last part gritted out between the dragon’s teeth as if the bones of his enemies were lodged there. Jahrra blinked and turned to glance over her shoulder. Ellyesce’s complexion had paled, his jaw tight as his nostrils flared.

  “Distracted by what?” she asked. Ellyesce wasn’t the type of person to be easily swayed from his duty.

  “Perhaps you should ask Dervit, or the woman who rode with him.”

  This time, Jahrra’s head jerked in astonishment.

  “Denaeh?” she breathed, turning to look at Ellyesce again. This time, he would not meet her eyes, and some new emotion played out on his face. If she didn’t know any better, she would have said it was shame.

  Dervit cleared his throat and explained, “We were riding toward the rear of the cavalry, and a flurry of arrows took down the men in front of us, opening up a hole for the Tyrant’s soldiers to shoulder through. Denaeh got our horse turned around, but didn’t notice the arrow sticking out of its flank. It stumbled, and we fell.”

  Dervit, in his usual, fidgety way, drew his hat from his head and clasped it between his hands. He blinked up at Ellyesce, then looked Jaax in the eye.

  “We would have been harmed, killed even, if Ellyesce hadn’t come barreling through the enemy line on Gliriant.”

  Jahrra’s mouth dropped open slightly, her brows arching above her blue gray eyes. Denaeh, whom Ellyesce hated so severely he wouldn’t even talk to her, had been the reason the elf had been slow to help her with the broehr. Part of her was slighted at his actions, understanding now why Jaax was so angry. Yet, a much larger part of her, the same part that had so joyously teased Dathian a half hour ago, warmed at the thought. Maybe Ellyesce didn’t loathe the Mystic as much as he let on.

  “Not that I am disappointed you and Denaeh were spared injury, Dervit,” Jaax said, tone softening a little but no less stern, “but Ellyesce was charged with guarding Jahrra.”

  Dervit nodded, his brown eyes solemn as he backed away from the center of the argument.

  Jahrra, however, brushed aside her moment of pacification and glared at Jaax. “Jaax, you are being ridiculous. Dervit and Denaeh had no armor, not much, anyway. They were in greater danger than I. Ellyesce was right in helping them first. I’m not a helpless maiden, you know. I’ve had years of training and have experienced a few real fights before. And, I was armed. And, I managed to hold my own long enough for help to arrive.”

  “I don’t care,” Jaax snapped.

  He drew in a breath to continue, but Jahrra cut her arm through the air in a dismissive gesture. “Enough! Ellyesce did his best to keep me out of the battle fray, and you were busy initiating the first strike. Should I also blame you for not hovering over me like some mother hen?”

  Jaax blinked and pulled his head back, the fury in his eyes abating a little.

  “You cannot protect me forever, Jaax. One of these days, you are going to have to let me stand on my own, whether you like it or not.”

  With those final words, Jahrra trudged forward, grabbed her pack and sleeping roll, then turned on her heel and marched away from the grotto.

  “Where are you going?” the dragon snarled after her.

  “Somewhere that doesn’t include insufferable dragons,” she quipped, not slowing her pace.

  The light patter of feet announced Dervit’s presence close behind.

  “Can I come with you?” he asked, panting a little. “I’m afraid Jaax might roast me for making excuses for Ellyesce.”

  Jahrra snorted, but nodded. “Thank you, Dervit, for trying to stick up for Ellyesce. Sometimes, I wonder if Jaax has a heart at all beneath all those scales.”

  Dervit gasped and darted in front of Jahrra, forcing her to stop. “You don’t really mean that.”

  She grimaced as she recalled the final night before leaving Dhonoara Valley. Shame crept in and joined that boiling annoyance that so often took control of her. She didn’t regret calling Jaax out and saying what was on her mind, but she did regret the words she’d just spoken aloud. Dervit was right. Slumping her shoulders a little, Jahrra admitted, “No. No, I don’t believe that. He can just be so impossible sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?” the limbit asked with a slight grin.

  Jahrra laughed, a dry sound that made the ribs on her injured side hurt. She pressed a hand into the wound and shook her head.

  “Where are we going, then?” Dervit inquired when Jahrra didn’t continue her march onward.

  “I need to find Denaeh. She promised me a balm and some tea.”

  And, I’d really love to question her about what happened
earlier this afternoon to make Ellyesce run to her rescue…

  After asking around, the two of them found Denaeh tucked up against the other side of the low hill. She had found a spot far enough away from all the other soldiers, generals, and warlords to give her some privacy, but not so remote she couldn’t call for help if threats should come sneaking through the woods in the dead of night. As Jahrra and Dervit picked their way between pine trees and bits of mountain stone, they kept their eyes open for anything that might be drawn to such a large party of men and women, many of them sporting open wounds.

  “I think dremmen wolves are common here,” Jahrra muttered, looking for the flicker of firelight that marked the Mystic’s camp.

  Dervit gasped, his eyes going wide. “Are you sure?”

  “No,” Jahrra admitted, furrowing her brow when the red glow of flames cast against bare rock disappeared for a second before flicking back into view. What on Ethoes? A few dozen more yards up the trail and Jahrra understood the fire’s strange behavior. The hillside came to an abrupt end, and orange light spilled freely from a large indentation in the rock. Of course Denaeh would find a cave in this remote place.

  “Denaeh?” Jahrra called into the cavern mouth, her voice magnified slightly.

  The yawning entrance wasn’t very large, a good thing if Jaax decided to be extra stubborn tonight and seek her out to chastise her about the battle. Going by the way her voice carried, however, Jahrra guessed the cavity widened out the deeper it went.

  “Jahrra?” a familiar voice replied. “Is that you?”

  “And Dervit. Can we stay with you tonight?”

  Before receiving an answer, Denaeh’s pale face came into view, her form blocking out the fire. She peered beyond them before flicking topaz eyes back to Jahrra’s.

  “Where are Jaax and Ellyesce?”

  Jahrra grunted softly. “Arguing about my state of vulnerability during the conflict this afternoon.”

  The Mystic drew back a little, both brows crashing down to create a crease between her eyes.

  Jahrra waved a hand and said blandly, “I’ll explain inside. Can we come in?”

  “Of course,” the Mystic replied, stepping aside to let Jahrra and Dervit pass.

  Just as Jahrra had expected, the cave was large enough for her to stand up without stooping and wide enough to fit all of them comfortably. A cheerful fire burned in the center, the smoke streaming up into the high ceiling. Denaeh knelt down to poke at the fire, and Jahrra smiled at the kettle hanging above the flames.

  “Water should be ready for tea soon. I lucked out with this find.” She inclined her head toward the ceiling where the smoke disappeared through a small hole Jahrra hadn’t noticed before. “Someone other than animals must have made use of this cave before we got here.”

  Jahrra nodded and unrolled her sleeping mat before plopping down on top of it. The sudden movement pulled at her bruised ribs, and she winced.

  “I promised you a poultice, didn’t I?” Denaeh said, looking rather forlorn.

  Jahrra narrowed her eyes at the woman. She was behaving oddly, more so than usual. Similar to the way she’d acted during their journey through the Kourhiont Mountains. Her complexion was pale, her face wan, her eyes a little haunted.

  “Are you alright?” Jahrra asked, wondering if the Mystic had been injured during the conflict after all.

  “Hmm?” Denaeh hummed absently. Then, shaking her head, she huffed a small laugh and replied, “I’m fine. Just a little weary, I suppose.”

  Jahrra would have pressed the issue, but a small rumbling caw coming from the corner of their cave wrenched her attention away from her friend. A dark blue bird, larger than a raven but sporting the same features, save for the cobalt feathers streaked with cream, hopped toward the fire.

  Jahrra beamed. “Milihn! I haven’t seen you in days! Where has he been?”

  Denaeh stroked the bird’s glossy head, and he grumbled, eyes closing and feathers fluffing as he savored the attention of his master. The Mystic smiled. “I ordered him to stay out of trouble, so he’s been following us at a distance.”

  “I’m glad to see him,” Jahrra admitted.

  Denaeh looked up then, her smile softening a little. “And where is Phrym?”

  Jahrra breathed a sigh of relief. “With the other horses and semequins. King Vandrian’s horse masters thought it best to keep them all together.”

  Denaeh nodded in agreement, then shuffled over to her bag to remove a pack of loose leaf tea. Ten minutes later, Jahrra, Denaeh, and Dervit were sipping a strong, fragrant brew sweetened with wildflowers and honey. Not much conversation passed between them, though Jahrra summarized what had driven her and Dervit to spend the night with the Mystic instead of her guardian and Ellyesce.

  “I just don’t have the energy to handle Jaax’s over-protectiveness tonight,” she said, rubbing her hands over her face before casting haunted eyes onto Denaeh. “Somehow, I’ve managed to remain calm after today’s battle. When Jaax gets into this mood, it stirs up all those ugly memories and thoughts for some reason.” She huffed a breath, shrugged her shoulders, and brought her hands down into her lap. “I don’t know how to explain it. I guess the general aggression brought on by an argument just unsettles my mind; rattles the cage where I keep those dark thoughts locked away.”

  Denaeh shifted where she was leaning against the opposite cave wall. Milihn, who had skipped back to his corner, snoozed atop what might have once been a stalagmite, his beak tucked into a wing. On Jahrra’s other side, Dervit had curled up on his own blanket and was now fast asleep.

  “I understand exactly what you mean, Jahrra,” Denaeh said, adding a small log to the fire. Sparks burst free of the coals beneath, the smoke and heat carrying them up to the ceiling on a dancing eddy.

  For several minutes, the two women sat in companionable silence, sipping their tea and playing hostess to their own thoughts.

  “It was my fault.”

  The words were so silent, Jahrra thought she’d imagined them at first. But, when she glanced up at Denaeh to confirm her suspicions, she found tears shimmering in the Mystic’s eyes. “It was my fault that you nearly died.”

  Denaeh drew in a long, shaky breath and let her head fall back against the rough stone behind her. Jahrra didn’t say a word, didn’t dare breathe. Normally, she would deny Denaeh’s claim, but there was something about the Mystic’s tone of voice, the very aura around her, that gave Jahrra pause.

  “For five centuries,” she said, voice raw with emotion, “I have mourned him. Have lived knowing I broke his heart, chose power over happiness, because I was an utter fool. And then, I was forced to leave my gilded cage only to come to believe he had perished. Not that he’d ever forgive me for what I had done. And I never blamed him for that.”

  Jahrra sat motionless, waiting for Denaeh to continue. The Mystic was finally opening up about her sorrows, like a timid doe testing a new drinking pool. To interrupt, to offer words of kindness or encouragement would be like tossing a large stone into the water. Denaeh needed to get this out, to share this pain with a friend. And, she had chosen Jahrra. Jahrra would not sully this gift with her own burning curiosity. She would simply listen.

  “When I found that skeleton in the cave in Oescienne, that truth I’d been running from for so very long finally caught up to me, tripping me up and strangling me. And then, to discover he wasn’t dead, after all, but hiding in plain sight with you and Jaax and Dervit. I had never been more terrified of anything in my life in the moment I realized who had their arrow trained on my back. He was alive, but he would hate me for all I had done. And, I’d been right about that. But today, when Dervit and I were set upon by enemy troops, I cried out in my heart, instincts driving my magic to scream along a bond I had thought completely severed.”

  She leaned forward again, this time looking Jahrra in the eye. Her own were a fierce, burning gold reflecting the flickering flames.

  “I’m not foolish enough to believe this means I
’m forgiven, but for the first time since joining up with you, I have hope. I made a terrible mistake, letting stubbornness and pride get in the way of true happiness, Jahrra. Don’t make the same error I did.”

  Denaeh’s words trailed off as she let her chin drop, her intense gaze now focused on the fire. And, for several heartbeats more, Jahrra tried to make sense of the Mystic’s advice. But she was tired, so tired, and despite her best efforts, the memories of the battlefield were closing in on her: the fear pounding through her blood, the stench of smoke and terror, the screams of pain and roars of fury …

  Jahrra shuddered, then drained what was left of her tea. Denaeh must have slipped a sedative into the brew because drowsiness swamped her senses. Thank Ethoes, Jahrra thought as she settled into her bedroll. Perhaps the horrors of the battle wouldn’t haunt her, after all. At least, for that first night.

  -Chapter Eighteen-

  Debate and Decision

  Jahrra woke to the sting of fire smoke tickling her nose, and the soft murmur of voices brushing against her ears. Rolling over beneath her blankets, she spotted Denaeh and Dervit standing near the cavern entrance. Their backs were to her, and clearly, they were speaking with someone outside. Yawning, Jahrra sat up and stretched, only to gasp as pain lanced her left side.

  Dervit’s head whipped around, his eyes big.

  “Jahrra! You’re up! Jaax is here. He said he spent the entire morning looking for you.”

  Jahrra rolled her eyes and fell back against the ground. Guilt at making him worry threatened to take over, but she squashed it down. If she’d stayed in their original camp with Jaax’s dark mood looming over her all night, she wouldn’t have managed any rest.

  “Ugh. Tell him I’m still asleep,” she groaned.

  “Too late,” a terse voice growled in reply.

  Cringing, Jahrra rubbed her hands against her face and crawled out of her bedroll. Her guardian had her cornered, and he would most definitely terrorize this small corner of the woods until she showed her face. With bits of hair poking out all down her messy braid, she limped to the mouth of the cave.