Goldenmark

by Jean Lowe Carlson

  “Tonight’s not the night we die, Dherran.” Elohl’s voice was firm against the darkness. Reaching out, he clasped Dherran’s shoulder, his Marks giving a steady flare. “We’re in this battle together, until all of Halsos’ Hells open and swallow us. I felt what happened between us in that throne hall in the White Palace, and I know you felt it, too. Don’t let your heart fail us now. Your passion is the fuel for my fire, Dherran. Your stalwart heart gives me strength; it always has. And if there’s one thing I know about your passion, it’s that it will never die. Stand by my side; be strong for us all tonight. Because lovers need love to make them stronger, so we can all prevail against what’s coming.”

  “And fighters have strong hearts to give.” Dherran hitched a breath in the red darkness. Reaching up, he set his hand to Elohl’s shoulder so their embrace formed a ring. Something fierce went surging through Dherran, then. Something born of wind and heat and scorching desert sands. As if his passion had an origin, borne of hurricanes through searing canyons. Inhaling a breath, a funnel of red sand appeared in Dherran’s vision, blinding him for a moment. Setting him trembling from head to heels – for a fight.

  “And so we die,” Dherran murmured. “Together.”

  “And so we live, asshole,” Elohl crushed Dherran’s shoulder in his grip, shaking him. “Whatever we are now, remember that we are Alrashemni. Lead with me, Dherran. Help me lead tonight. These men who will soon battle are afraid of their annihilation and they look to you, and to me – Blackmarked and Goldenmarked – to command in this battle. So do it. With me. Please, my friend. My strength as the Rennkavi is nothing without you at my side, giving me hell.”

  Dherran was silent a long moment, his brows knit. At last, with an enormous inhalation, he straightened, feeling all hesitation flee from his heart under the impeccable steadiness and strength he felt emanating from Elohl. Gazing at his old friend, Dherran saw purpose set Elohl’s jaw, and every line of his sword-honed sinew. The Goldenmarks flared – a clear, vibrant blue that dazzled the night as Dherran felt their hearts resonate. Their eyes locked, and it was as if Dherran could see the entire universe in Elohl’s steady opal gaze.

  “There’s nothing I’d love to do more,” Dherran spoke, his heart firm once more with purpose. “Use my strength and finish this. Face this blight Lhaurent den’Alrahel has unleashed upon us and tear it down. Take his army away from him; take our people back. Menderian, Kingsmen, Valenghian, and all the rest. We’re ready to win our lives back from this storm, Rennkavi. And when we’re done, we’ll have that ale.”

  “Done.” Gripping Dherran’s nape, Elohl drew their foreheads together. With a soft laugh, he said, “I love you, you know that? I know I’ve always been one somber, hell-eyed motherfucker, just as you’ve always been a torrent of passion. But I’m learning how to love with my whole heart, not just bury my emotions anymore. Learn with me.”

  “Learn?” Dherran laughed, feeling lighter than he had in ages. “I’m already a roaring beast for the people I love, Elohl! But one thing I’m learning from all this is to not accept failure. Not even if I have to go to Halsos and back to make it happen.”

  With their foreheads pressed together, Elohl gave a soft chuckle. “Never would have pegged you for a deep thinker, Dherran.”

  “Yeah, but I always knew you were an asshole.” Dherran let Elohl go with one last shake, then grinned, feeling like they had come to accord at last. “I should get back to the Heathren Bog. I’ll return with Arlen, Delennia, and the rest when they get here, so we can discuss the battle.”

  Elohl gave a nod and Dherran turned away. But before he could stride off, he felt Elohl’s iron grip upon his arm. He turned. Elohl stood tall before him, filling out his sinewed height with strength and quiet surety – just like his father, Urloel, but far more. Elohl’s eyes were steady as he and Dherran faced each other, his Goldenmarks flaring strong in the night. Ready, for whatever happened next. Dherran found it spoke to something deep inside himself that understood life and death. Standing there in the heavy dark, Dherran smiled, his heart surging. For the first time, Elohl looked like a Rakhan – a leader for the Kingsmen.

  And a leader for everyone else this black-hearted night.

  Reaching out, Elohl clasped Dherran’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get this battle planned, as much as a fucking enormous melee can be.”

  CHAPTER 45 – ELYASIN

  Elyasin returned to consciousness staring up at a starry night. Her vision swam, stars whirling. Time had no meaning and for a moment she felt the universe breathe. All around her, an endless susurration flowed without limitation. Deep and sensual, it caught her breath and made her pause. For a moment, there was nothing but stars, forever – and the feeling of a presence behind those stars.

  Her body shivered and the moment broke. As that shudder passed through her, she was hit with pain. An enormous, suffering pain, as if every muscle had been beaten with sledgehammers. A cry issued from her lips – the only sound she could make.

  “She’s awake.” A soft voice sounded nearby – Thad’s voice, gentle and melodious.

  “Thank all the gods.” Therel’s voice caused relief to flood Elyasin. She remembered his eyes dimming; she remembered seeing his face go slack. But as she craned her neck to see him, she felt Therel’s hands, warm and gentle, slide under her. Sitting at her bedside, he lifted her, his wolf-blue eyes alive and filled with relief as he cradled her to his chest. Every bone and muscle in Elyasin’s body screamed, and yet, feeling Therel’s smooth rise and fall of breath, their hearts beating as one with their chests pressed close was more soothing than any balm. With careful movements, Elyasin managed to lift her arms and wind them around Therel’s neck, pressing her lips into his skin.

  “I love you,” she sighed.

  “My sweetgrape—!” Therel choked, cradling her neck so he could pull away slightly and lay their foreheads together. “Don’t ever scare me like that again...!”

  “As long as you don’t, either,” Elyasin spoke as they kissed, tired and gentle through her pain. “I couldn’t bear to watch you die again, Therel.”

  “Someday we’ll have to,” he rasped. Tears slipped down his cheeks, and Elyasin kissed them away.

  “Not here. Not now.” Setting their lips together, she gave him a real kiss. Deep and slow, inhaling his lupine musk and river-water scent. Therel wound his arms around her, and they kissed deeply, feeling each other’s presence, soft and slow. It ended gently, and Elyasin sighed as they rested foreheads together once more.

  “What happened?” She asked at last. “Did we finish it?”

  “The White Ring is complete, my Queen.” Thaddeus appeared in her field of vision and sat on the edge of her bed. A soft smile lifted Thad’s lips, but there was something haunted about it, and Elyasin knew that look from her scribe. Glancing around the room, she saw they were in the same small rotunda that she and Therel shared, their furs and bedrolls beneath her. Elyasin was still dressed in her shirt and silk undergarments, though her breeches and boots had been removed and her legs were bare under the furs she was snuggled in. A brazier was lit in a cheery fire nearby, but other than Thad and Therel, the chamber was empty.

  “Where are the others?” Elyasin asked, struggling to sit without Therel’s help. Therel eased his grip and allowed her to try her strength, even though every sinew in Elyasin’s body screamed.

  “Ghrenna’s outside,” Thad spoke softly. “At the Ring. This past day.”

  “I’ve been out a whole day?” Elyasin eyed Thaddeus. He wasn’t telling her the whole truth, and she knew it. His gaze dropped from her question, shied away.

  Therel reached out, smoothing a lock of her honey-gold hair back from her face. “I’ve been out most of that time as well. Thad’s been watching over us. I just woke an hour ago.”

  Elyasin noted Therel’s bedroll rucked-up next to hers. “Where is Luc? Is he outside with Ghrenna?”

  Thad swallowed and his gaze flicked to Therel. Elyasin’s gaze followed, and
her King and husband met it squarely, sorrow in his eyes. “Luc didn’t make it, Elyasin. I’m so sorry.”

  Elyasin’s head swam. The stars in the walls multiplied, too many, as her eyes burned. Therel reached out to soothe her but Elyasin pushed him away. And then swung her legs over the bier and heaved to standing, though the rush of a river filled her ears and her body ripped with agony.

  “Show me to him.”

  Therel stood with a slow movement, as if his body hurt as much as hers. Taking her hand and placing it on his arm, he escorted her. Elyasin forced her limbs to move, stepping with slow footfalls to the vaulted doorway. Moving outside, a bright light smote Elyasin – and despite her woe, her eyes opened in awe.

  In the plaza, where once all had been tumbled and broken shards, there now stood seven enormous monoliths of milky white quartz, thick as cendarie-trees and towering over the other structures in the underground citadel. They glowed with a swirling light, like honey flowed in their vast depths. Though their eyes were closed, a dazzling brightness poured through the golden sigils upon their faces. Flowing like sunlight underwater, the sigils blazed and then receded, in spreading patterns like the ripples of an ocean wave. A sighing hum moved through the cavern, as if the ring of white Alranstones breathed with the universe itself. Low and melodious, it was composed of countless tones, yet all had perfect harmony as their subtle flow rose and fell. It was haunting, achingly raw. Elyasin felt her heart pulled to a kind of ecstasy despite her grief, and elevation filled her even as she was gripped in despair.

  She moved forward upon Therel’s arm. That raw and beautiful sound with the waves of rippling light pulled tears from her lids. As they crossed beneath the diamond-black archways and over the golden ring, then stepped past the white Alranstones, Elyasin felt a smooth ripple shiver through her. The Stones were aware, easing into Elyasin’s gripping heart with etheric fingers, as she moved toward the light that flowed over the central golden dais.

  Ghrenna sat in the center of the dais. Cross-legged with her palms resting on her knees, her chin was lifted, her eyes closed as she sat, perfect and luminous as a pearl in all that haunting light. A body lay before her. Tall and lean with a mane of golden hair, his chiseled, handsome profile was even more pronounced in death, his thick tawny lashes closed. The gold of his short beard gleamed in the lilting light as he lay in his fawn-brown Elsthemi leathers. As Elyasin mounted the dais, she saw a smile haunted his lips, though his roguish face was waxy and pale.

  “Luc!” His name sighed from Elyasin’s lips as she sank to her knees. Reaching out, she laid her hand atop his. Someone had placed his sword between his hands, and Elyasin gripped his cold, dead fingers, pressing them into the leather grip.

  “He gave his all for you.” Ghrenna’s low voice made Elyasin look up. Tears spilled from Elyasin’s lids and down her cheeks as she met Ghrenna’s ancient blue gaze.

  “Thrice he saved me from death. One time too many.”

  “Luc feared being a slave.” Reaching out, Ghrenna brushed her fingers tenderly over Luc’s bright waves. As she gazed at him, a sad smile touched her lips. “He told me that, long ago in Fhouria, when he finally came clean about who he was. He feared going back to Roushenn; to face his destiny and become the plaything of Kings. But you treated him with honor, Elyasin. You treated him as an equal. And so he gave everything for you – to save not his Queen, but his friend. You should have seen the look on his face as your first breath surged in and his last sighed out. I’ve never seen Luc look so fulfilled. Never in all the years I knew him.”

  Tears poured down Elyasin’s cheeks and she let them fall. A hard sob choked her throat. Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to Luc’s cold, dead lips. “I should have let you go. I should have set you free.”

  “He was as free as he wanted to be,” Ghrenna spoke from across Luc’s corpse. “He couldn’t leave you, just like he couldn’t leave me. But some loves make a man’s heart sing, and others make it grip in chaos. His heart sung for you, Queen of Alrou-Mendera and Elsthemen, even though his heart gripped for me.”

  Elyasin looked up, watching a tear slip from Ghrenna’s dark blue eyes. “I never loved him like I should have,” Ghrenna murmured, “like he deserved.”

  Elyasin watched Ghrenna for a long moment. Luc’s hand was stiff and cold beneath her touch. But it was not the dead that needed her sympathy right now. Rising as fluidly as she could manage, Elyasin stepped around the corpse and sank to her knees beside Ghrenna. Wrapping the woman in her arms, Elyasin held her in that soft, moving light. Ghrenna was still a long moment, as if her being had evaporated into the chill air – but then, with a shudder and a gasp, she began to sob.

  And where that misery had been unleashed, there was no end. Elyasin petted a hand down Ghrenna’s pale locks as the woman shuddered in her arms, breaking. Carrying such a heavy burden, that even Elyasin, as Queen of a nation being devoured by chaos, couldn’t truly understand. Ghrenna’s hands spasmed, gripping Elyasin’s jerkin as she sobbed harder. Her shoulders shook and she gasped between sobs.

  Elyasin heard a soft footfall and looked up to see Therel. Thad stood somewhat further off, past the edge of the golden dais, as if he were afraid to tread upon it. But Therel mounted the short steps up to the gold disc, his wolf-blue eyes full of sadness and quietude. Sinking down next to Elyasin in his buckled Elsthemi leathers, he set a hand on her shoulder, massaging it while Ghrenna continued to break in Elyasin’s arms.

  “I can’t!” Ghrenna choked. “I can’t do this—!”

  “Yes, you can,” Elyasin shushed, petting Ghrenna’s white waves with soothing strokes. A memory of Olea holding her this exact same way just months ago struck Elyasin and she straightened, letting her body fill with strength for the woman breaking in her arms. “And you will. Where Morvein failed, you will succeed. You will bring this world to unity, Ghrenna. You will work the Rennkavi’s Ritual and we will have the great peace we all hope for. Luc gave his life for that. He stayed with us, because some part of him believed in what we’re doing. This world we’ll build is not just for you and I. It’s for everyone who has suffered injustice, to bring them out of the darkness and into the light. I know you’re tired, and I know your heart breaks and so does mine – but do other hearts break any less when they lose a husband, or a father, or a son in battle?”

  Ghrenna quieted in Elyasin’s arms. She gave a shudder, then a deep sigh. Slowly, she pulled away, her gaze bright and bleak. “I killed him. It was my wyrria that killed Luc. It nearly killed all of you. What if... what if it kills Elohl?”

  Reaching out, Elyasin cupped Ghrenna’s lovely face, wiping a tear away with her thumb. “We all must risk what we love in times of war.”

  “How can you be so strong?” Ghrenna’s shoulders shivered as a tremor took her.

  Elyasin took a deep breath and let it out – the trick of Kingsmen patience that Olea had taught her long ago. “Because I had a good teacher. And because I have to be. For my nation, for the world – and for you.”

  With another shiver, Ghrenna nodded. Her blue gaze fell to Luc’s corpse and lingered. “We have to engage the ritual soon. These Alranstones have amplified my ability to send myself through the ether to Elohl. A great battle is soon to break upon the Aphellian Way. Lhaurent has a force twice the size of the new Valenghian Vhinesse and our allies. And Elohl hasn’t the magic to bind the Vhinesse’s entire army yet against Lhaurent. He needs the Rennkavi’s Ritual. The time is nigh.”

  “How nigh?” Therel’s voice was low in the murmur of the Stones. His hand stroked Elyasin’s back with calm, steady movements.

  “Hours,” Ghrenna’s blue gaze pierced Elyasin to her core.

  “Hours,” Elyasin whispered. Something rolled through her, like the giant presence of Hahled Ferrian’s magic turning over, excited for battle – even as the rest of her shivered in fear. Therel’s hand gripped her shoulder, steadying.

  “I’ve tried to delay as long as I could,” Ghrenna continued. “You and Therel needed t
o wake, and I needed to regain my own strength after our reparation of the Alranstones. But Lhaurent’s forces are mustering. The Vhinesse’s army is readying to meet them. The Way will run with blood by dawn, and Elohl needs our help to stop it.”

  “Can the magic of the Rennkavi stop such a thing?” Therel spoke darkly at Elyasin’s shoulder.

  “Yes.” Ghrenna’s gaze flicked to Therel, certainty returning in her. Sitting up, she let herself draw back out of the comfort of Elyasin’s touch, shivering off her uncertainty and moment of weakness. As Elyasin watched, Ghrenna became harder, stronger, as if the persona of Morvein penetrated to her core as her unfailing certainty returned. Watching them all, Ghrenna spoke with a lower voice, a deep, strong alto, her tears drying upon her cheeks.

  “If the vision Morvein received about the Rennkavi’s power is correct, then he can stop any conflict. Once he is fully in command of the wyrria he needs.”

  “Then we mustn’t delay.” With a deep in-breath, feeling Ghrenna’s certainty fill her, Elyasin sat tall – ready for battle. “Let us begin the Rennkavi’s Ritual.”

  * * *

  Elyasin stood in the center of the golden dais, ready in her white silk shift. Therel stood facing her, clad in a silken shirt and trousers. Standing to their right, Ghrenna was clad in similar fashion, and to their left was Thaddeus, dressed like Therel. They’d found the soft garments in a stone chest in the citadel, and Ghrenna had insisted upon their use. Heavy clothing impeded the vibrations of what they were about to achieve, and ornamentation was the same.

  Luc’s corpse had been removed from the burnished dais of gold, taken to the rotunda Ghrenna slept in and laid out carefully upon the diamond-stone bier. They’d all taken a moment to say goodbye, Elyasin sitting quietly at his side and holding his beloved hands, thinking about all the ways Luc had been her protector, her friend, and a good man. With a last kiss to his cold lips, Elyasin had risen and returned to her and Therel’s rotunda to shed her Elsthemi gear and dress in her white silk shift for the ceremony.