The Dawn of the End

by Kristen Ashley

  Ophelia was thoughtful, decisive, honorable and stalwart, and her loss would be a grave one at any time.

  In times like these, Aramus was concerned it would be a cataclysmic one.

  “True has shared he’s growing concerned,” Bondi continued. “Ophelia, Serena and Elena all on enemy soil as Ophelia slips into the veil. This with Cassius distracted by Elena’s impending loss. He does not foresee good things. He is considering leaving the Rising situation in the hands of Alfie and riding to Cassius’s aid.”

  “Alfie?” Aramus inquired with open surprise.

  “He has made Alfie his royal counsel.”

  Aramus almost smiled.

  His friend True was a good man.

  He was also a smart one.

  “And Mars?” Aramus queried.

  “We’ve had no word from Mars. Though, as far as we know, his men continue to be at the Airenzian border in case they are needed.”

  “Our ships still sit in Sky Bay?” Aramus asked.

  “Yes. But there are only three,” Bondi answered.

  Aramus nodded decisively. “Send seven to Sky Bay, ten to Abhainn Mouth and ten to Dunlyn. We shall start there.” He looked about his men. “Tint, you command the ships in the Bay. Ore, the ships at the Mouth. And Nav, the ones sent to Dunlyn. If aggression starts in Airen, send word to me, and until I can engage, take orders from Cassius.”

  “You wish for us to go now?” Ore asked.

  Aramus nodded.

  Those men headed out.

  The others gathered closer.

  “I am assuming the wedding is postponed indefinitely,” Nis remarked.

  “Ophelia would not make it known she is not long for this world if she was not actually long for this world,” Aramus replied, his tone grave. “And Cass and Elena know they are the final couple to ally to fulfill the prophecy, thus they will not delay. With the change afoot in Mar-el, we need to bolster here as best we can, men. Thus, Ha-Lah and I will not leave until we must. But my gut tells me we cannot be too far from the others. Not for much longer.”

  The men nodded.

  Aramus looked to the door, unable to shake the thought that, his best seamen headed to the Mystics and uprisings, no matter how puny and easily quelled, would be the kind of problems he very soon would long to have.

  Aramus heard his queen’s pleasured mew as he tasted her climax in his mouth, this before Aramus slid out from under her, positioned behind her and took a moment to enjoy her beauty as she gripped the tall, wide half-helm that formed the headboard of their bed.

  He then rested a hand on her hip, took hold of his cock with his other, found her, and glided inside.

  Her curls hit his shoulder as her head fell back.

  His hips moved, thrusting in and out, in order to return her to where she was now floating away.

  “Love you, my king,” she whispered.

  “And I you, my queen,” he replied.

  “I could have you inside me an eternity,” she said.

  “I could be inside you an eternity,” he returned with feeling.

  “We are one,” she breathed.

  He very much liked that.

  “One,” he growled, filling her with his cock and moving his head in order that his lips could find hers.

  But he did not kiss her.

  For she murmured, “But I am prettier.”

  Thus, when he finally kissed her, and began again to move inside her, he did it laughing.

  As she had already found release once, he had to engage his fingers at her nipple and nub to take her there again.

  It was an agony holding back until he was able to give it to her.

  But it was worth it as her head pressed into his shoulder, her luscious body made an arc, thrusting her sex into his, her breast into his hand, and her beautiful face went vague with her moistened lips parted, her eyes drifting shut.

  Watching her, only then did he allow himself to follow her.

  When their breathing again became normal, Ha-Lah’s forehead was tucked into the side of his neck.

  He could smell her, feel her, see her beauty from face to knees, in their bed, in their home, in their land.

  And in that moment, he knew he would die for her.

  He would die for her to have life.

  He would die for her to be safe.

  He would leave this earth so she could carry on in it.

  But if she was not in it, he did not know if he would have the will to carry on.

  Thus, in that moment, he understood the dread that had, more and more each day, begun to plague him.

  “I will go clean up,” she said softly.

  “You will not move a muscle,” he replied gruffly.

  Her head came off his shoulder, but he evaded her eyes by kissing her shoulder as he gently slid from the heat between her legs.

  “Aramus?” she called.

  “I will return,” he said and finally looked into her eyes. “Do not move, Ha-Lah.”

  “All right, my darling,” she whispered.

  Aramus left their bed and walked across the thick ocean-colored rugs over mosaic tiles in the colors of turquoise and sea glass to his valet chamber.

  There, he wet a cloth and returned.

  As he did, he drank in the vision of his wife in their bed, her fingers wound around the symbol of their realm, her skin perfection, her hair an emblem of her spirit, her eyes on him warm, thoughtful and concerned, a shining reminder of her intelligence and the depth of her ability to feel.

  He entered the bed and held her about her waist with one arm as he gently cleaned his seed from between her legs, his gaze cast down her body as his hand went about its ministrations.

  “Why do I sense this is not sexual?” she asked quietly.

  “I am simply taking care of my queen,” he muttered.

  “It is more.”

  He said nothing.

  “Aramus, look at me.”

  His eyes went to hers.

  “Did something happen that you did not tell me in your discussions with the pirates?”

  He did not want his hand between her legs with anything on his mind but his Ha-Lah.

  Thus, he kissed her shoulder again, moved from her, the bed, to his valet chamber, where he tossed the cloth.

  She was no longer holding her position for him but seated cross-legged in their bed with eyes on him when he returned to their bedchamber.

  “You didn’t answer me,” she noted.

  He entered the bed, and she cried out in surprise as he positioned them, Aramus with his back to the helm, Ha-Lah astride him on her knees.

  He pulled up the bedclothes so their legs and hips were covered and then he looked into her eyes.

  “Outside of Magnus, it was an exodus. They leave for the Mystics, or to attempt to wreak havoc in the Northlands and Southlands. Now knowing Tor, Lahn and Apollo as well as Frey, I do not think, if they choose east, it will go well for them. I know from experience, if they choose west, it will go worse.”

  “I do too,” his wife replied softly.

  And she did. Her grandfather, a pirate who tried his hand in the Mystics, met his end there.

  “My best captains are gone, Ha-Lah. Which weakens our armada.”

  “Oh no,” she murmured.

  “All is not lost,” he assured. “My navy is always strong. But with them here, if the time came it was needed, and the time might be coming it is needed, it would have been unbeatable.”

  “Whatever comes our way, we will prevail.”

  He did not hold that hope.

  “You worry,” she remarked.

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  “Aramus—”

  “You said that tremor, the one felt recently, was one we had no need to fear,” he noted.

  She nodded. “I do not know what it was, but it was not like the others. Not in the slightest.”

  “I have a gnawing dread.”

  These words came out in a burst.

  His wife blinked
at him.

  And he felt a fool.

  “Do not consider what I say. I simply—” he began.

  “Shh,” she hushed, her fingers to his lips. “My love, you can tell me anything.” She slid her hand along the beard at his jaw. “Anything, darling.”

  “It is that…I understand happiness.”

  Her body gave a slight twitch that made her curls bounce, but she said nothing.

  “It is the headache of hearing of a revolt against the King’s Will, and sending men to quell it, and going to the dinner table where you sit, and what happened in the day means nothing, for I dine with you. It is listening to pirates grouse, understanding I ask for great change, but feeling frustrated they, in turn, do not understand the valid reasons I am asking it, and coming to my bed with you here, and their complaints lose all significance. In other words, it is knowing each day will dawn, and it might be good, it might be bad, but it will end happy, for I have you.”

  “My king,” she breathed, her forehead falling to his, her fingers curling tight around the sides of his neck.

  He slid his hands from her hips to wrap his arms around her waist, and he held on.

  “Now that I have this happiness, I understand it, I do not wish to lose it,” he whispered.

  “Of course, you don’t,” she whispered in return. “I do not either. But we will prevail.”

  “I fear the other possibility, that we will not.”

  She lifted her head slightly and erroneously surmised, “And you’ve never feared anything and now do not understand how to cope with this feeling.”

  “I have known fear, Ha-Lah. I have fled angmostros. I have battled ibex-whales. But it pales to nothing at the thought of losing you.”

  Her face, already tender, became more so as she repeated, “We will prevail.”

  “What if we do not?”

  “We will.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I don’t,” she shared. “I just refuse to consider it will happen the other way.”

  “I see the wisdom of this,” he muttered.

  “I cannot guide you into that place,” she replied gently. “Even if I very much wish I could. But I can encourage you to seek it as best you can. And as always, be here to listen to you when you are in need.”

  He nodded to let his queen know her words were heard, and they had meaning to him.

  But he did not feel better.

  “I should seek my people,” she declared.

  The arms Aramus had about her tightened.

  “Ha-Lah,” he said.

  “If they are needed, I can ask them to come to our aid, but they should know, and prepare for that time.”

  “And you think they would help those who did hideous things to them? Things that sent them into self-imposed exile?”

  “I do not know, but I will not know unless I ask.”

  “Is this dangerous for you?” he queried.

  “No.”

  He studied her closely. “You are sure.”

  She relaxed against him. “I am.”

  “We will endeavor to do this, and soon, if you wish to attend Elena and Cassius’s wedding.”

  “I do,” she confirmed.

  “We will talk later and plan,” he murmured, beginning to move them to put them in bed, though he was doing this wondering if he wished to sleep, or if he wished to recommence other activities with his wife.

  Ha-Lah clamping her thighs on his hips and calling, “Aramus,” made him stop. She then announced, “I have something to tell you.”

  Oh shite.

  “Something to tell me or something to admit to me?” he asked.

  The knowledge his wife was Mer was not given to him by his wife.

  Thus, he would be gladdened she had something to share and she was the one who shared it.

  Nevertheless, if it was something she should have shared some time ago, this would not gladden him at all.

  “Not to admit, or even share,” she answered confusingly. “I do not know, and I am troubled for I do not think it is mine to give. I still feel deeply you should know it.”

  This was not a stellar preamble.

  “What is it?”

  “You must promise not to say anything, not to anybody. Not anybody at all.”

  And this was not much better.

  “What is it, Ha-Lah?”

  “I cannot tell you unless you promise that.”

  “You will tell me,” he returned.

  “I really cannot. Not unless you promise.”

  “Ha-Lah,” he said in warning.

  “Really, Aramus.” She gave his neck a squeeze. “You will know when I share, so now, please, just promise.”

  He scowled at her.

  Then he growled at her.

  “I promise.”

  She smiled at him.

  Then she spoke.

  “Silence is a mermaid.”

  He did a slow blink.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Silence, she is Mer.”

  “Mars’s Silence,” he stated, but it was a question.

  Ha-Lah nodded.

  “The Queen of Firenze.”

  She smiled again. “The Queen of Firenze.”

  “She is of the Arbor,” he pointed out. “And the Arbor is landlocked.”

  His wife shrugged. “I do not know how she is Mer. I just know she’s Mer.” She then tipped her head. “But I sense she either does not know, or like me, she fears sharing.”

  “Not only to you, but to Mars.”

  She bit her full lower lip, knowing how a husband would take this news when it was not freely given to him.

  “Shite,” he muttered, on his side of the matter, knowing precisely how he felt about his wife not sharing.

  He sensed with the affection growing between Mars and Silence that Mars would not care his queen was Mer. Aramus did not know this, but he sensed it.

  However, he knew exactly how it felt that his wife kept something crucial from him.

  And he had good reason to believe Mars would feel the same way.

  “This is not a bad thing,” Ha-Lah declared. “This is possibly a good thing. It is just that I need to speak to her about it as soon as I can when I am with her again.”

  At this, Aramus thought he understood.

  “Which would expose you as a mermaid to her if you did.”

  “No, for if she knows she is Mer, she will know I am. Though if she does not…”

  It was only then Aramus relaxed.

  Silence, he could trust, and not only because he could trust Mars, for if Silence knew something, she would share it with her husband, and if anyone needed to know his wife’s secrets, it was the couples of the prophecy.

  But she was Silence and her name did not entirely define her, but it was not far off.

  And of all the women, he had noted that Silence had a deep affinity for and with his wife.

  Not to mention, she wrote to Ha-Lah with great consistency and it was clear their friendship meant much to both women.

  “Then we will endeavor to find you some time to discuss this with Silence and what it might mean to this Sisterhood of the Beast when we are with her again.”

  His wife pressed into his body at the same time she pressed her lips to his.

  As she did so, Aramus slid them fully into their bed, pulling the bedclothes over them and rolling her to her back, with him atop her, making the decision on his earlier conundrum, when her soft body was under his, thus taking the kiss deeper.

  His queen pressed closer.

  When he broke the kiss to slide his lips down her neck, she said in his ear, “You are right, my king. This is happiness.”

  He knew he was right.

  He still took her mouth yet again to show his gratitude that she agreed.

  113

  The Connection

  Tedrey

  Journey to the Ancient Ritual Ground

  WODELL

  They rode under the cover of night.


  They slept in hiding during the day.

  They gave him food and water, and fortunately were so determined to get where they were going, they paid him little mind except to secure him when the time had come to rest.

  However, Tedrey had a feeling things were going to change when, before the fall of twilight, he heard the hoot of a bird which caused a milling within the cave where they had holed up for the day.

  At the sound, one of Fenn’s brethren, wearing the clothing of a Dellish, not the robes of a Go’Doan priest, went to the cave’s mouth.

  There was then a muted commotion and torches were lit as several men who had not been traveling with them moved into the cave.

  Fenn walked directly to the man at the front.

  Fenn studied that man closely.

  He was much older, but he still had soft, golden hair and a good deal of it that grew all the way down to brush the shoulders of his fine coat.

  He also had an air of authority, and it was clear all those with him, and the others in the cave, regarded him deferentially.

  “Thom,” Fenn greeted, bowing his head respectfully as he made it to the man.

  Thom?

  G’Thom?

  Golden Thomas?

  Tedrey, his wrists bound to his feet, focused closer on the new arrivals.

  “We were to meet you, not the other way around,” Fenn continued.

  “It is no longer safe for us in the Dome City,” Thom replied.

  It was no longer safe—for priests—in the Dome City?

  Fenn looked as shocked as Tedrey felt.

  “How could that be?” Fenn asked.

  “They located our funds before we could discover where Carrington had them hidden. And Carrington proved himself more of a buffoon than his detection and capture showed him to be. He kept the records with the funds, rather than elsewhere.”

  “They have our records?” Fenn asked in disbelief.

  “They have everything,” Thom confirmed. “However, in my case, that mattered not. Some of Carrington’s communications were uncovered. He referred to me within them.”

  Thom lifted a hand and rested it on Fenn’s shoulder before he shared further.

  “There is great dissension in our home, my brother. A door was opened, and a tidal wave poured through it. Priests turning against priests. The more reprisals against our own in Wodell and Firenze, and now even Airen, the expulsion of our priests from Firenze, the more anger our brotherhood is treated to by those who refused to follow our ways. Anger will obviate fear, and now we no longer hold the upper hand with those who knew of us but knew not to speak of us. Thus, when the Go’En called for me to attend them with urgency, I had to escape my sacred city in the strictest of secret. I could not even give word to our brothers that they needed to take measures to protect themselves.”