Echoes of Ashener

by David Partelow

  “Okay.” Serra sat silence as he brought the cycle to life. She could tell by the direction that Rahn was not their destination. “Where are you taking me?”

  They cycle carried on at a slow pace as he replied. “The roads to Rahn will be covered. Those men back there were looking for you, so I’m taking you to where I know you will be safe. We’ll send word to Rahn that you are alive. But for now, our destination is Axiter.”

  “I’ve never been to Axiter,” was all that Serra could say. He said nothing to this of course, and somehow, she knew he wouldn’t. He had said all that he needed to say and that, as Serra had learned, was that. As if on cue he gunned the cycle, and they were off at a great speed. Serra felt her hair whip into a frenzy as the wind battered at her face mercilessly. Somehow, through the cold and the alienation, Serra did feel safe.

  Saying no more, Serra put her arms around the Ro'Nihn, locking her fingers together around his waist. The firmness of his armor robbed any chance at warmth from him. Nestling her head against his back, she closed her eyes and shielded herself from the world and the nagging reminder of a reality that had not quite sunk in yet.

  Serra had not realized how weary she was until she had stopped walking. Several thoughts longed to bombard her conscious and she steeled herself to ward them off. Serra was tired of thinking, tired of war, and grief. For the moment she was off to Axiter. Serra focused on that, for it was a place she always wanted to see. She hoped to find Wyndall of the Jacoi there, as it had been months since their last meeting.

  At last, about an hour into the ride she realized what was bothering her the most. This Ro'Nihn, this stranger had been correct. Perhaps that had frightened her too. Her capture, this ride to Axiter, the danger involved only delayed her intentions. Serra would venture out again, and she would turn every stone until death or truth revealed the whereabouts of Norryn Ashener. There was no way of stopping it, nor was there any desire to relinquish her plight.

  Squeezing tighter to the stranger before her, Serra accepted the fate her heart had already decreed. I’ll find you, Norryn, no matter what cost it takes. And I will see you again in this life or the next.

  At that, Serra Landring gladly accepted the nothingness that found her once more.

  CHAPTER 4

  Fractured

  “To stay this course is madness. Surely, you can see that, Esaundra.” Lancer Vanmorth, former head of Bannar’s security force was resolute in his depiction of the present situation.

  Esaundra Denore, appointed regent of the lands of Vallance, rubbed deeply at temples that throbbed, hoping beyond all hope that her headache did not form into another migraine. She sat now at the head of the table, just recently arrived inside the walls of Rahn. Again, the responsibilities of her duty overwhelmed her at every chance it was allowed. Esaundra could not bring herself to look at the assembly before her and could feel their grave, judging eyes upon her. It was almost too much to bear.

  It was Sindara Preece, who continued the pressure then. Esaundra knew had she looked up, she would see sincerity in the eyes of Rahn’s keeper. “He’s right, Esaundra. This war has taken its toll on you. You have done what you can and have fulfilled your vow to your sister and family. I ask you to please let us help you now with the burden that you carry.”

  Esaundra knew this day would come. The last five years of her life had been nothing short of hell. Immediately following Bannar’s fall and the death of Enora and Alderich, Esaundra had been appointed to her position as Regent of Vallance. The life she knew had been obliterated instantly. Every day was now a decision that meant the lives and deaths of a populace that counted on her to lead them from the darkness. And every day her thoughts were taken back to the moment when her sister had sacrificed her life for her own.

  Sis, you should have let me die that night, she thought with bitterness and longing.

  However, from behind her, a steady voice came to Esaundra’s aid, giving her some comfort. He was still tall, dark, and handsome, all the qualities that had drawn Esaundra to him so long ago. Now he stood steadfast at her side, possessing a voice that was calm, yet defiant. “I am afraid that is still not an option. Esaundra Denore is bound to her duty for our country. By law, her position must stand until a viable heir or candidate presents itself. She stands by an oath made to her sister; an oath she will see through until a rightful successor can be found. She will not let the ideals of her family, the ideals that forged this great nation, be cast to the wayside.”

  Turlin Dantry scoffed at the comment. The stout leader of the borders of Chrone took a heavy pull from his stein. Wiping his lips clean, he addressed Dendral. “Surely you do not suggest we allow Rhoneck Ashener to lay his claim.”

  “Of course not,” replied Dendral, “but the mantle will always be open to Norryn.”

  It was Geyre Windfalls that now expressed his discontent. He shook his head as he leaned back, his feet propped easily on the table. “Well I hate to burst your bubble, but Norryn Ashener is dead, my friend. It’s time we all accept that move on.”

  Dendral quickly countered this. “Then for the sake of our country, proof must be shown of his death, for I, like many, share the hope that the young man still lives. So far, no body has been procured, nor has Ashener’s Calling been brought to light. Until such a time, Esaundra’s rule should stand.” Dendral paused, taking a moment to look at each leader in turn. The pain of the truth wore easily on his features. “These lands are hurting, and its organization holds desperately to threads. In these times, it requires the familiarity of Esaundra Denore, the one link to the Ashener bloodline that we still retain. Alderich is dead. His brother was lost in war long ago. It is the duty of Esaundra Denore to remain in her position until fate or opportunity dictates otherwise.”

  “Then we should vote to end this.” Azhan Glansayer added his voice to the discussion. His tan features and elegant robes shimmered equally as he pressed his point. “Let us decide together who will stand for Esaundra until the fates allow us this change.”

  Dendral thought on his words before responding. “You place Esaundra in another precarious position, Azhan. A vote could be feasible, but law negates that until a majority vote can be obtained. And we hold no majority here.” Dendral looked at each present, allowing his words to sink through their skins and into their hearts. “Adaven Milestor is incapacitated. Vaalin Corzon is not present to cast his say. Rybert Toler is also absent. Seemingly he, much as Vaalin and his Morganne, has turned his back on us. No, my friends, we are drawn to this fate and its course. We are at war. This is not the time to squabble for the remaining pieces of our country. It is prudent to keep our present leadership. Cresul is poised to strike at us once more, and we must prepare ourselves for such an event. The proper defenses are vital for our continuing survival.”

  “Yeah, that has been working wonders for us so far,” muttered Geyre.

  Dendral Winters turned to his accuser. “We’ve little choice in the matter, do we not, Geyre Windfalls? A traitor is obviously in our midst. General Cresul has thus far frustrated any attempt at a counter offensive.” Dendral’s voice rose slowly. Color broke from the depths to fill his face. “Need I remind you all of the battle at Argon Creek?”

  “I think not,” said Hanser Dricore. His voice resigned to the shadows of regret. The Battle at Argon Creek was the bloodiest outright battle of the war. Vallance had sustained a great deal of casualties, and a good portion of those casualties had come from the ranks of Hanser’s reserves.

  “No, indeed.” Dendral paused briefly, taking a moment to calm the emotions getting the best of him. “No friends, our only course is to press on. It may seem daunting, even unreasonable, but we all must make do with what options remain to us. Our strength must be harnessed as one. Anything less is disaster.” Dendral then sought to change the subject but could not think of any good news for the endeavor. “Turning from bad tidings to others, how is Adaven?”

  Sindara released a pained sigh. “His condition has not
improved, and he is still unconscious. We have fortified the defenses at Rucker. It was Adaven’s sacrifice that saved his town until we could lend support.”

  Dendral forced a smile toward small mercies. “Well that is some comfort on this day, that he still lives. We shall pray for his recovery. What of Shinteu? Any news?”

  Lancer grunted as he replied. “It has been hard to get couriers to that region, and the ones we have gotten through have been met with silence. I fear that Rybert Toler is in the process of surrendering to Thorne.” Lancer looked as if he could spit upon the words that escaped his mouth.

  “Or perhaps it is Rybert that we should add to the ranks of those we cannot trust,” mused Dendral.

  “I am certain it is too early to decide that,” said Turlin Dantry. “We need facts in these uncertain times, something silence often lacks.”

  At last, Dendral turned his head to the representative of the Shayor region. “And as for the region of Shayor, our apologized for having to offer such diplomacy in these dark times, yet we of Vallance press on. I speak for us all when I say we would very much like to know the status of our request to add your great region and people to the lands of Vallance. Can we expect a response from Lady Varensa?”

  The representative’s name was Collins. He was thin man, pale with a vivid mustache. He sat with one arm crossed, the other lead to his face where he had been nibbling on a fingernail through the duration of the meeting. With the spotlight upon him, he stood to address the table.

  Clearing his throat, Collins spoke. “I am afraid Lady Varensa is unable to give such a verdict at this juncture. It is our belief that such a decision would be premature in these . . . uncertain times.” Collins smoothed his tunic before continuing. “My liege sympathizes with your country’s plight and shall continue to offer her support in terms of resources. However, at this time any more than that could invoke the amenity of an unwelcome opponent, and it is our fear that in the event of such retaliation, the lands of Vallance would be ill-equipped to aid in our defense.”

  Dendral decided to attack the silence of the table before it became overwhelming. “Very well then. Please give Lady Varensa our gratitude and convey to her it is still our wish that your lands can happily join the ranks of Vallance. And we will do all in our ability to see that day come around. I speak again for everyone here when I say we share the same ideals. It is those ideals that are worth fighting and dying for.”

  Finally, Azhan entered once more into the conversation. “Which is why we must take action now while there is still something left to fight for. I for one refuse to lie down as the lands we have fought and bled for hang desperately to the threads that hold them together!”

  Dendral carried on, unfazed as he addressed Collins of Shayor. “I bid you a safe journey home. We will see you safely back to your lands. I have some letters and gifts to go with you. Thank you again, sir We wish you and your group a safe journey home.” Collins stood to leave and Dendral bowed to him as he departed.

  Finally, Dendral faced Azhan, ready to address his outburst. “Noble words, Azhan Glansayer, for I know you mean every one of them. But I might ask you with what you would have us to fight back with?” Dendral waved an agitated hand. “It would seem that Shinteu and Morganne our lost to us. Rucker is in disarray. A horde of opposition wanders freely through our lands, killing and destroying on every whim. The town we currently stand in is brimming with casualties and the fleeing masses. And our V.F.U., a division that you are charged to co-lead is nowhere to be seen, with no indication about its strength, condition, or even whereabouts for that matter. Oh, good sir, we have so little to work with these days, do we not?”

  Finally, from the opposite end of the table, Wyndall of the Jacoi clans rose to be silent no longer. The sternness of his mood was easily seen, even through the blues of his Ro’Nihn mask. “It is the very lack of those indications that ensures the survival of Vallance Force United. Neither I, nor Azhan of Nadarr will risk the utter destruction of the V.F.U. until a proper battle plan can be concocted. Presently the elusiveness and mobility of these men and women ensure not only their survival but the survival of so many more.”

  Dendral Winters cast a suspicious eye at Axiter’s leader. “And why would you withhold this information from the chosen regent of Vallance? Such knowledge could mean the difference in the fate of our country. To keep such knowledge away from Esaundra Denore could be construed as traitorous.”

  Sindara rose from her seat quickly enough. “How dare you imply that this man is a traitor. Wyndall of the Jacoi and the clans of Axiter have gone above and beyond the call of duty to ensure the survival of this country. I will have more than words with any person who would say otherwise.”

  “Be it as it may, that is information that should be given to Esaundra Denore freely, so all options can be weighed,” countered Dendral.

  Wyndall crossed his arms. “I’ve seen Esaundra Denore make no such request, nor would I freely give that information at this time.”

  Dendral leaned his hands upon the table, setting his intent fully upon the Ro’Nihn leader. “Wyndall of the Jacoi clans, you have been formally requested for this information.”

  Wyndall was unfazed as he continued. His voice remained collected and even. “Formally requested? By Lady Denore? All I see is an advisor, nothing more, who wants to dictate a command not placed upon him. He is confident in his position and yet afraid, deathly afraid, to lose it. I, Wyndall of the Jacoi clans of Axiter have been appointed my authority by Alderich Ashener himself, and as such I will do whatever I must within my power to see that his dream, our country, will not fall or pass from this world.”

  Dendral straightened as he mused. “That is an authority that can be revoked, I assure you.”

  Wyndall was again unmoved. “I care not what authority I may or may not hold. I know my duty and what I must do. And I will not be swayed by the likes of you.” Wyndall turned from the table and left the room with his honor guard close behind.

  As Wyndall departed, the table erupted in disarray. It took long moments for Dendral to reclaim order. "Ladies and Gentlemen, that is quite enough. This meeting is over. We shall reconvene early tomorrow after lady Denore has had the opportunity to rest.”

  It took several painful minutes to clear the room. All that remained now were Dendral and Esaundra. With the last person gone, Esaundra finally raised her head to reveal tear-laden eyes. “They are turning on me, Dendral.”

  Pouring a large glass of wine, Dendral came to Esaundra’s side. “They are frustrated, my love.” Giving her the wine, he took her other hand into his own as she drained half the wine in her glass. “The country is falling apart all around them, and the burden falls upon you. You must try to remain strong a while longer. I know it’s not easy. The only comfort that I can give you is that I will be by your side all the way.”

  Esaundra squeezed his hand in return. “And I am so grateful for you. I would be lost without you, Dendral. You have always been there and taken the scrutiny so well. How you have stayed strong through it all is beyond me.”

  Dendral gave her a reassuring smile as he leaned forward. “And when this war is over, when I can finally make public my true feelings for you, when these troubles are no longer your own then it will all worth it.” He kissed her on her head. “They may not understand why you must do what you do, nor can they understand our love, but in the end, things will turn for the best. You have endured a great deal, and you must endure more before it’s over, but we will see that end, and all will one day be great again.”

  “I wish I could be as confident as you,” she whispered.

  “I will just have to be confidence enough for both of us.” Dendral brought Esaundra to her feet, hugging her fiercely. Kissing her again on her head he then looked her in the eyes once more. “You are tired. I would think now would be the time to get some rest. I will handle things here and then join you.”

  This finally brought a smile to Vallance’s Regent. “T
hank you, Dendral. Thank you so much.” Esaundra headed to the doorway and the hallway beyond. She turned to him one more time before then and mustered a smile. “I love you.”

  Dendral nodded his gratitude for the sentiment. “And that is what makes this all worth it. I will not be far behind you.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Dendral then watched Esaundra depart. He knew well of the burdens that threatened to crush her beneath their weight. He’d made the commitment long ago to see this through and until then he would be by her side. Dendral took a seat at the table, opening the parchments left by hasty couriers during the day. It was a thankless task as an advisor, but with the love and trust of Esaundra and so much riding on it, he would not fail or waver. It mattered not to him that people like Sindara or Wyndall despised him or his position, for it was given to him and while he held it Dendral Winters would carry it out to the best of his ability. He would fight this war to the very end.

  For his love.

  For his country.

  For Thorne.

  -18-

  Serra was pulled suddenly from the restless ire of sleep that had so easily claimed her. She could not recall what had succeeded in this, for it wasn’t the cold, nor was it the dreams that had haunted her memories for more nights than she would like to remember. Her surroundings were dark and the weariness that lingered did little to help adjust her eyes. However, her journey back to consciousness had been a tranquil one. Shaking the sleepiness from her bones, Serra’s eyes finally focused.