By the middle of the night, everyone was back, ready with their reports except Varon. They were in for a long meeting. Mave kept Bryn close, unable to tear herself away.
“So, they can track us?” Alchan asked, the room still quiet. No one spoke out of turn, not even Mave.
“Aye. We had just arrived and got eyes on their camp and valley. They had gryphons, but we didn’t think much of it.” Bryn sounded so tired, his accent was thicker than normal. “The entire party was trained to cover their tracks, I made sure of it. There was no way they could have found us unless they were trackin’ scents.” Bryn rubbed his face. “At one point, Cydrev and I were in some trees. The Elvasi was asking his mount to find us, trackin’ as a gryphon might in the wild or hunting dogs. When we rose above the trees, they had others waiting to see us fly.”
“How did you get away?” Luykas asked.
“We did some dangerous flying,” Nevyn answered this time. “Just below the treetops, before they could see us dive. They probably figured we went to the ground to try to hide, but luckily, Bryn had already figured out their game. The hunting horn they used didn’t help them with their stealth. It was a clear indication they were on our tails every time they sounded the damn thing. When we dared to fly above the trees, they were gone from sight, probably looking for our scents.” Nevyn looked back at Bryn, sighing. “They started with nearly a dozen, right?”
“Aye, twelve. They found our cavern, killing two of us on guard. Varon killed one as we dove to escape. They killed one while we escaped. We split, hopin’ to find a way to divide and conquer, but I lost one of mine against them. Cydrev and I killed two on the ground after that, and Nevyn lost one in his half, but also got some kills. With how dangerous it was and how close we were to their camp, we decided to run instead of defeatin’ the entire huntin’ group.”
“Then we led them on a possible chase around the mountains, hoping they couldn’t follow us straight back here,” Nevyn finished. “Sir, I recommend releasing Tyvria and Cydrev to their homes to bathe and recover. Bryn and I can handle all your questions.”
“Of course. Both of you are dismissed.”
The quiet, dirty, young scouts bowed to Alchan and left without a word. Mave was glad they wouldn’t have to sit and deal with the rest of this. Their first mission had turned to hell.
“How do we manage this?” Luykas groaned. “If they can use gryphon patrols to scent out our paths and movements, none of our scouts will ever be safe again. None of our ambushes will work because Lothen will be too smart to send anyone out without first clearing the area. We’d have to go in blind and attack every time.”
“Or we ambush the gryphon patrols,” Alchan countered. “But that’s risky.”
“I’ll do it,” Mave said evenly, offering herself up. “Let me go out there. I’ve fought them, both wild and mounted, single handedly and with more practice than anyone in the Company—”
“I’m not sending you out alone,” Alchan growled. “I’m no fool.”
“I’ll bathe and go,” Nevyn snapped. “We need to get our best out there. We need to kill these gryphons.”
“We also need to make sure none of my guards in the mountains are at risk and make sure none of the slaves escaping the Empire accidentally give away our position,” Senri added. “This could go to hell very fast if Lothen has a straight line to us or starts taking out the defensive positions I’ve established.”
“All valid points,” Alchan said, looking down at the maps. He turned to look at Mave again. “You’ll go with Mat, Nevyn, and Kian from the Company. Between the four of you, I want five Andinna apiece, making twenty-four. You’ll divide into parties of no less than twelve at a time. You’ll strike hard and fast. The moment you sustain major casualties, you’ll come back. That means, losing five Andinna, taking your numbers under twenty, or any one Company death. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” She straightened up. Bryn grabbed her arm tightly.
“Love, are ya sure?” he asked in a sharp whisper. “I just got back—”
“They want a fight? I’m going to give them one. It’s my turn to go out there.”
“If we can’t risk scouting parties, we might as well send out tactical fighting units,” Luykas said with a heavy sigh. “Mave, Nevyn, Kian, and Mat…That’s who we can spare out of the best, and I’m certain there are twenty Andinna ready for a mission like this. Mave, it’s going to be bloody.”
“Good,” she growled. “Nevyn, how long do you need to recover?”
“Give me three days to make sure Varon’s healing is going to bring his arm back and relax these legs and wings of mine. Then we’ll fly.”
“Mave, you’ll answer to Nevyn,” Alchan said sharply, meeting her gaze once more. “Do you understand? He’s the one I trust giving the orders on this mission.”
“Of course.” Mave smiled. “You won’t spare Rain, will you?”
“No,” Alchan growled. “I won’t. Company, I want a mission plan here tomorrow evening with the twenty Andinna chosen. Dismissed.”
Mave nodded once and walked out, knowing her males followed her.
“Mave!” Bryn called after her. She stopped, grabbed him, and hugged him close.
“Don’t try to stop me. This is the second time I’ve let you get sent on a mission. This time, I thought everything was good enough to keep you safe, and it wasn’t. If going out there and killing off some of those fucking riders can get us a moment of reprieve together, I’m going to do it.”
He sighed in her arms, wrapping his own around her.
“At least let meh enjoy the few days we have, then,” he murmured.
“We can do that,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. She pulled away, waving a hand over her nose. “But first, you’re going to bathe.”
“Aye, of course,” he said, chuckling.
25
Emerian
Emerian waited in the clearing with Trevan, watching the warriors who lived next door. The entire family was outside, all talking about some mission they were about to go on. Since Emerian wasn’t privy to meetings as Trevan was, he didn’t know the details. He just knew that two of those warriors were going off to fight, and they were taking a large unit. Something about striking back for the failed scouting mission, news of that had spread quickly and had darkened the mood of everyone in the valley.
“Do you think they’ll come back?” he asked Trevan, hoping the Elvasi had some sort of insight he didn’t. He didn’t know most of the Andinna before them, but he felt a connection to them. Luykas trained him and was a constant source of support, mutt to mutt. And the Champion…she still terrified him, but he could never shake a strange feeling he had whenever he saw her—yearning, fear, need. From the first moment to weeks later, he still wanted to get on his knees when she was in his presence.
Andinna instincts. That’s what Luykas said, because of what I am.
“Everyone seems confident,” Trevan answered softly, his gaze dark and his posture stiff. The Elvasi didn’t ever want to talk about the Champion. Emerian had tried to ask more about her, but the longer they were into this new freedom, the more the Elvasi shut down.
“You still haven’t talked to her, have you?” Emerian knew the answer, but if there was a better time to bring it up, he didn’t know it. His friend was bleeding from wounds he couldn’t see or understand, and Emerian only had two real friends. He needed to take care of them.
Not that I ever thought I would actually consider Trevan and Dave friends. Then again, I never thought I would be in Anden, fighting for Andinna freedom either.
His life was going down an unexpected path, but he wasn’t upset. He kept watching the Andinna who lived next door, half yearning to be one of them one day. He’d seen the brutality of the Andinna for years, but never before had he seen it done so honorably. They were proud, that family—proud of their ways, proud of their power—but good with it. Luykas was teaching him that. The mutt was just as dangerous and vicious as the others, but
he was also able to smile and laugh during training. He made mistakes with his marriage and tried to find his balance and place in the world, just like Emerian.
I wish I had known Andinna like them centuries ago. Maybe I wouldn’t have grown up so bitter. There are still bad apples, but if this family is considered the best of us, I’m okay with that.
He watched the white-winged mutt kiss his wife, and she got on her horse while another of her husbands mounted his own. They started down the trail toward the village, and Luykas watched them disappear before saying goodbye to the others left behind.
Emerian stood up a little taller when Luykas looked his way. Trevan didn’t move, didn’t change, the same dark shadow over his expressionless face.
“Yer goin’ to be trainin’ them now?” the smallest of the males asked. Emerian searched his name, knowing he had heard it somewhere before. Bryn. Emerian committed the name to memory, hoping he didn’t forget it again. He didn’t see this one often.
“I started while you were away. They’re good. Maybe you can come see them some time,” Luykas replied, shrugging. “I think we’ll be able to put Emerian in a small unit where I’m sure he’ll be safe by the end of summer. Trevan’s a bit hard, but he might make a good trainer for Andinna who have never fought against Elvasi styles.”
“Ah.” Bryn turned and started walking away, apparently unhappy with Luykas’ answer. “Come on, Zayden. Let’s figure out how much you fucked up the house.”
“You know damn well I didn’t fuck anything up in this fucking house,” Zayden snarled, snapping in Bryn’s direction.
“So, that’s what they have planned for me,” Trevan mumbled, looking away finally as Luykas walked toward them.
“Thank you for waiting this morning,” Luykas said with a smile. “The last few days have been rough.”
“Feels like every day is rougher than the last for you,” Emerian said, smiling back. He genuinely liked Luykas, who was able to curb his dominance to seem less intimidating. When Emerian asked about it, Luykas gave him a strange look and reminded him they were both half-Elvasi, and that blood would never make them as strict to the dominance structure as pure Andinna.
“It is,” Luykas agreed. “We don’t know the Empire’s plans, and I don’t trust Lothen sitting south of us on the other side of the mountains. If he’s able to punch through the terrain, we’ll be overrun.”
“He’s considered a great military commander, but his men hate him,” Trevan said quietly, beginning to walk toward their training field. “You might be able to use that because they trust his judgment, but not many are very loyal to him. He’s considered rash and headstrong when he’s in a bad mood, and sometimes, he can be very childish.”
“Oh, I know,” Luykas said with a sharp smile. “But it’s good to see the Elvasi know what’s wrong with the prince.”
Trevan snorted.
Emerian looked between them, but when Luykas shrugged and started walking, Emerian kept his mouth shut and followed, knowing better than to put himself between them. They were both better at fighting than he ever would be. For only an Elvasi guard, Trevan was good, very good. He figured the Elvasi would have no trouble giving Luykas a run for his money if they ever got into a fight.
I hope they don’t. I like Luykas, but he wasn’t the one who forced me to drag my ass out of the darkness and run to freedom on some fucking wild gamble and an insane belief about loyalty and honor.
“Today, I want Trevan to continue training with the morok. The more you know and feel comfortable with our fighting style, the more you can teach our newer Andinna about how to fight against what you were taught.” Luykas wasted no time getting into their training. “Emerian, I like you with the morok, but today, I want to try something different.”
Fuck. What am I in for today?
“He’s terrible with Elvasi weapons,” Trevan said blandly, grabbing his practice sword. “Just a heads up.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Luykas said with a chuckle. “That’s not what we’re going to do. Emerian, you were in the fields for most of your life, weren’t you?”
“I was.”
“I thought we would try a weapon not seen very often.” Luykas went to the shack with practice weapons and pulled out something Emerian hadn’t seen in a while, a sickle.
“That’s not a weapon,” Emerian said carefully. “That’s for harvesting wheat.”
“It’s both,” Luykas said patiently. “Humans have a death god, the grim reaper, don’t they? He carried a scythe, also called a sickle. Why?”
“I don’t know why humans do what they do,” Emerian mumbled, looking away, annoyed by this already.
“Because the sickle brings death, represents a time of dying. Farmers have often used this to protect themselves, their families, and their fields from invaders. Long before the Empire took over, humans often revolted against their own rulers for one thing or another and farmers with scythes? They were one of the strongest and most passionate armies one could find. When Andinna saw it happening, we just closed the borders and waited it out. We didn’t want to seem as if we would take advantage of such a crisis in the short-lived races, and we didn’t want to lose our heads.”
“How do you know all of that?” Trevan asked, frowning.
“Standard education for Andinna of the higher ranks,” Luykas answered. “Mativas, royals, nobles were required to be educated on the ways of the races we worked with closely. Alchan knows the same. You can ask him about it if you ever find a moment of peace to talk to him.” Luykas shrugged. “It’s stuff Rain will learn as Alchan’s nemari if he wishes to complete his training and gain nobility.”
He spun the sickle in his hands. “It has a strange balance, but you’ve used this before, haven’t you?”
“I have,” Emerian muttered, ashamed. He was just a farmer in the end, wasn’t he? He wasn’t a soldier like Trevan or a warrior like Luykas. He was a farmer, and he would get a farmer’s ‘weapon.’
Luykas gave him an odd look then attacked Trevan faster than Emerian could blink. It was a flurry of sweeping blows, and everything stopped as fast as it started as Luykas got behind Trevan, the sickle wrapped dangerously around the Elvasi’s throat. If Luykas tugged on it, the soldier was dead.
“It’s a dangerous weapon that can cleave heads from shoulders, and you have the muscle and the experience with its balance I don’t. We can always extend the shaft for more reach. You can keep a sword at your waist, but never discount anything with a sharp edge is a weapon. A smart Andinna knows a hunting knife, a carving knife, and a dagger can all achieve the same thing, regardless of the intended use. They’re all weapons and can all kill the enemy,” Luykas said, his voice even. Trevan was beginning to shake as the sickle didn’t move. “You wouldn’t be the first Andinna to use one to kill the enemy, whether it be a foe on the battlefield or a wild beast looking for an easy meal. I’ve heard of Andinna tending their fields and fending off wyverns trying to kill their nearby livestock, and all they had were their tools. They succeeded because survival doesn’t care what’s in your hand. It just matters if you know how to use it.”
The sickle left Trevan’s throat, and Luykas reached out to keep the Elvasi steady.
“Fuck,” Trevan groaned.
“Sorry. I needed an example—”
“You’re lucky we’re trained to put down peasant revolts,” Trevan said, panting hard. “I would have been fucked if I had never seen one of those used before.”
“Ah,” Luykas said softly. “I should have known her army would know how to handle anything.”
Trevan shrugged, rubbing his neck.
Emerian was still in shock, unable to move as Luykas walked to him and held out the sickle handle. He couldn’t bring himself to grab it, still amazed and terrified of the steel in the other mutt’s hand.
He had just…If I could have done that centuries ago, life would have been different.
“Take it,” Luykas ordered in the steely manner of a military comman
der. Emerian fumbled but took it. “You’ll train with it. If you don’t like it, well, at least we tried. We will try, though. I think you can manage it well enough, and knowing a variety of weapons and how to adapt is just as good a skill as any.”
“Yes, sir,” Emerian mumbled, looking down at the sickle in his hand. Something was different. He now had a level of respect for the tool in his hand.
“Good, and please, just call me Luykas. We’ve talked about this.” Luykas smirked and went for a practice morok.
They got busy, sparring against each other in rotation. Trevan was skillful enough to use the morok, but it still felt like an Elvasi using a blade he shouldn’t have. Something about the Andinna fighting style was meant for wings and tails, the ability to go into the air, a lot of things Trevan would never have. Emerian didn’t do much better, but the familiarity of the sickle helped him. It was like cutting wheat, slashing and trying to hook his opponents. He even gave Trevan a long cut across the back of the Elvasi’s thigh but took a hard hit for it.
In the distance, drums began. Luykas raised a hand, making them go still while Trevan treated the cut. Emerian was helping bandage it, knowing it was his fault.
“What’s that?” he asked. He had heard the drum before, normally late in the evening, but it was nearly midday.
“The war drums,” Luykas answered. “The assault party is leaving.”
“I thought they left earlier.”
“Mave didn’t want any of us hovering over her, and since she was leaving with Kian, she spent her last moments of preparation with her parents,” he explained, seeming far away.
“I thought her parents were dead. You mean her adopted—”
“Under Andinna law, a formal adoption is recognized by the local head of the community and the priesthood, but no one calls those parents ‘adoptive.’ They’re her parents. Senri is her mother, Kian, Willem, and Gentrin are her fathers. Nothing else about how that came to be matters. Don’t be foolish enough to call any of them adoptive in front of them. They’ll fight you.” Luykas ended with a smile. “Which is good. Senri loves Mave with everything she has. If there was anyone I could pick to love my wife like that, it would be her. And Kian? He’s been pretending to be a fun father since the moment he met her but didn’t want anyone to notice.”
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