The Lord of the Clans

by Chris Lange

  She had lost him.

  One small, wrong decision and all of a sudden she felt empty, cold without his warm touch, alone without his affection or approval. She didn’t need to ask to know he’d never forgive her. Even though they had no claim over each other, he’d wanted her to be his, in flesh and in spirit.

  They’d have gone their separate ways once the quest was over, but in the meantime she should have been his alone. Although he’d never fully expressed it, the idea that he cared for her deepened her pain.

  Out of the blue, Doireann’s distressful warning rang in her ears. You aren’t just his healer. You are mates, and you’re in love with each other. Could it be so? Had love gripped their hearts to the point where betrayal, longing and lust became allies in the search for happiness?

  As much as she feared considering the option, the mild affection nudging her toward Kelton paled in comparison with the feral hunger she felt for Cameron. Every time he looked at her, every time he touched her. Bowled over, she flinched when her shaman’s voice snapped her out of her stupor.

  “I didn’t send you away from home to heal your aunt. At least, not entirely. As it happens, I believe we’re all in great danger.”

  “The Darkening. I know.”

  For a wonder, he didn’t seem all that surprised when she named the threat casting a shadow over their heads.

  “Won’t you tell me what happened to you?”

  Unwilling to reveal anything Cameron wouldn’t like her to disclose, she glanced at him. He avoided her eyes to stare at her shaman.

  “What do you know?”

  “I’ve heard of a darkness about to devour our world, and of a great power that might prevail over this menace.”

  “What power?”

  “I think you already know, my lord.”

  They both stared at her. When she didn’t say a word, Cameron drank the last of his tea and put the mug down.

  “Why did you never tell her she has magic?”

  Her shaman smiled, and his familiar grin finally reminded her of the man who had taught her everything.

  “She wasn’t ready for such powerful knowledge because she’s lived a secluded and rather lonely life. I knew only real trials would make her accept the truth. If I’m not mistaken, she has now gone through different experiences. Enough to understand she can’t escape her destiny.”

  Destiny? No, she still didn’t feel ready to surrender to fate. She had bragged to the leader of the resistance, but her weakness now made her tremble at the knees. Why couldn’t someone else ride north to vanquish the darkness? After all, people like wizards and witches possessed magic, so why couldn’t they band together to face the impeding danger?

  “Shaman, why does it have to be me?”

  “I’ve trained many girls with magic in the art of healing, but I’ve known you were special since the day you were born.”

  His baleful tone dried her throat. She sensed a revelation coming, an inexplicable dread creeping up her bones to eat at her marrow. Then, when her mentor suddenly stared at Cameron as if he expected support from him, she knew her fate had been sealed.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The lump in her throat prevented her from breathing properly and she let the shaman take her hand in his.

  “You don’t have magic, Ariana. You are magic.”

  What difference did it make? Should she be relieved to hear about this apparently important distinction? So far, she didn’t feel less scared, yet she listened to the rest of his explanation.

  “Have you never wondered about your tattoo? You’re the only person from our tribe to bear the mark of the Ancients. I’d even say probably the only one in the whole realm.”

  “I had no idea what my tattoo meant until Cameron told me.”

  “This particular drawing signifies that your power comes from the Ancients. They bestowed pure magic on you.”

  She recalled the Shrine of Fate, the war paintings on the cave walls, the long deserted feel of the place.

  “How can they do that when they’re all dead?”

  “They might be long dead but their spirits live on, in the air we breathe, the water we drink, the sun we draw energy from. Whenever evil threatens the Four Kingdoms, a mighty power arises to challenge it. The Darkening is intent on destroying our world and you’ve been chosen to defeat it.”

  “Fantastic. I’ve always dreamt of doing just that.”

  Her bitter tone obviously didn’t escape her shaman as he applied a slight pressure on her fingers.

  “This must be very hard on you, Ariana, but know that I’ll do everything to help and guide you.”

  “Like telling me how I’m supposed to beat this darkness?”

  “Unfortunate as it is, I don’t possess this knowledge. All I’ve been able to learn is that you mustn’t fear the outcome. You will prevail as long as you accept your weaknesses and turn them into strengths.”

  “Huh?”

  He might mean well, but his words sounded like gibberish. Although they appeared to be speaking the same language, she didn’t understand him. He let go of her hand to rub his cheeks like a man struck with weariness.

  “What would you say is your weakness? Don’t think about it, Ariana, just answer the question.”

  “My lack of physical strength. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never wanted to be a man, but I'm certain I’d defend myself much better if I had more muscle. I really wish I could be as strong as...”

  Her voice trailed off while she turned toward the Lord the Clans. Without asking for his gigantic stature, she wouldn’t have minded being able to fight off several men, like he had done before almost dying in the barn, or subdue an enraged mountain lion.

  His eyes on her, he cocked his head.

  “I may possess the force to wield my sword, but I’ll never heal people the way you do. Isn’t it something to be grateful for?”

  She supposed so, although in her current position she didn’t believe her special healing power would be of any use. She needed to destroy the darkness, not treat it for chickenpox. Lowering her gaze, she grabbed the handle of her mug and drank the last few sips of tea. Her shaman sighed.

  “Listen to me, dear girl, and may my words show you the light. Dwelling on what you can’t achieve won’t enlighten you. On the other hand, focusing on what you’re able to do might bring the answer you seek. All I can say is that the Darkening is upon us, but you aren’t ready to face it.”

  Only then did she remember the disc and the square. Weren’t they supposed to guide her in some mystic way or at least to back her up? To do whatever they had been created to do, and see her safely through the ordeal? Whatever their use, she couldn’t rely on unknown artefacts to show her the right way.

  Surely Cameron wouldn’t have forgotten about the small, black objects. Not with all they’d gone through to retrieve them. She had no memory of the Shrine of Destiny, but he’d hacked at trees and vines for the better part of the afternoon. Given that he hadn’t yet mentioned their findings to her shaman, she settled on following his lead.

  “Then prepare me.”

  “It’s my intention. Actually, we’ll start tomorrow morning.”

  His gaze taking on a respectful and possibly hopeful glint, he shifted his thin body to look at Cameron.

  “With our lord’s permission.”

  “By all means, shaman. Get her ready.”

  He didn’t smile, yet she heard a hint of amusement in his tone. Unable to discern what could possibly be funny to him, she figured he’d find entertainment in watching her learn and practise.

  Then again, which kind of training did her mentor conceive? More sword play or magical tricks? In spite of being pure magic, she'd never so much as raised a feather with the power of her mind. Nor thrown fireballs with a beautiful sway of her hands. Not even lit a candle without a flint.

  She revered the Ancients, but their defence strategies eluded her. They could have picked any warrior in the Four Kingdoms to accomplish this feat,
so why had they designated her as wielder of a great power? Maybe in the old times their leader had been a woman.

  Regardless of all the questions swarming her mind, a more pressing issue also troubled her. Night had fallen a while ago now, and her aunt still hadn’t made an appearance. Where was she?

  “Shaman, aren’t you worried about Aunt Moyna? It’s getting late.”

  “Her husband took his tools with him. She said they wouldn’t come back early because he’s repairing a friend’s house. She even cooked a meal for me before they left. Would you like to share?”

  The mention of food stirred rumblings in the pit of her stomach. A large grin on her face, she bobbed her head.

  “With pleasure. It seems our journey hasn’t been about eating at all, and I’m starving. Thank you, shaman.”

  “Your aunt is an excellent cook, you won’t be disappointed. Just give me some time to heat it up.”

  “Take your time. There’s something we have to do first.”

  She wanted to see his camp, even though she wouldn’t sleep there tonight. Just in case she might need him later. As Cameron glanced at her with a questioning look, she rose from her chair and went to grab her cloak.

  “I left something I need in your saddlebags. Would you mind showing me the way to the camp?”

  “Of course.”

  She hadn’t touched his bags once, so he knew she was lying. Remembering too late that she could have requested her double sling, she followed him to the door before calling out to her shaman.

  “We won’t be long, don’t worry.”

  “I’ll be waiting here.”

  Used to the brightness of the candles lighting the house, she had to let her eyes adjust to the dark street outside. The forest began right past her aunt’s lodgings, trees obscuring the sliver of moon.

  Unlike her, night didn’t seem to hinder his senses much as he walked a straight line to the place where he had set up his tent. Their horses grazed grass in the small clearing.

  “Why are we here, Ariana?”

  “I needed some fresh air. All this talk of the Ancients and their great power started to give me a headache.”

  “What else?”

  He never bought her small lies, did he? Concealing the beginnings of a grin, she expelled a long sigh.

  “Actually, I wanted to make sure of something. Do you trust my shaman?”

  “I don’t trust people.”

  How did anyone live without relying on close friends or relatives? He scratched his jaw with two fingers.

  “The man appears genuine, though. He hid the truth from you, yet he might have had your best interest at heart. Time will tell.”

  “What about the disc and the square? Should we mention their existence? He may have an inkling of how they work.”

  “You heard him, he knows nothing. It’s best to keep this information to ourselves for the time being.”

  She nodded, her instincts telling her to go along with him. Leaves rustled under the breeze as she dropped her gaze. In the near darkness, his huge presence suddenly ignited a completely different feeling in her, but she wouldn’t let her arousal dictate her actions.

  “We’d better get back.”

  He stood still. Was he expecting her to speak of her choice to sleep at her aunt’s house? He believed she'd betrayed him, but as much as the idea tortured her, she didn’t want to go down that road. Not now. Unable to make out his expression, she tensed when he took her arm, but he just stepped forward and led her out of the forest without a word.

  Back at the house, the three of them sat down for dinner. Her shaman greeted them with a smile before filling their plates with potatoes and beans. Her aunt’s cooking deserved only compliments, as he had stated, and her ale worked like a charm. Pretty soon she felt like chattering away, although the conversation couldn’t be called animated at first.

  She praised Cameron’s courage and fighting skills when her shaman asked about their journey from the Longrocks Mountains to Frahern. Listening to herself, she realised at some point that she sounded just like the heroic stories people loved to tell about the Lord of the Clans.

  She might even be participating in the creation of his legend. The way she was going on and on about him soon caused Cameron to knit his brow together, but it raised a quizzical look on her shaman’s face.

  “Even if I wasn’t aware of his reputation, I’m sure our lord is the best protector you could have asked for.”

  True, although in her opinion he also had the slight tendency to get hurt. As she wasn’t used to ingesting spirits, and the ale definitely made her light-headed, she felt like having fun at Cameron’s expense for once.

  “That’s because you don’t know him, shaman. He gets wounded all the time. You’d think he’d pay attention, but it’s like he enjoys throwing himself at his opponents’ blades. That’s not even the best part. Do you know what he does when there are no enemies around? He stabs himself.”

  Open-mouthed, the gaunt man stared at her while she giggled without restraint and took hold of her drink. Cameron placed his hand over it before she could lift the goblet off the table.

  “That will be quite enough, Ariana. I’m confident your shaman isn’t interested in pointless details.”

  His firm voice tore through her inebriated lapse and sobered her up faster than a bucket of cold water. Looking at them both with a sheepish grin, she removed her fingers from the goblet.

  “I think I’ve had enough ale tonight.”

  The funny countenance of her shaman prompted her to polish off her plate. With her belly full, the last strands of her giddiness dissipated. Although they ended the meal in silence, she didn’t feel an awkward tension between Cameron and her. His sense of humour apparently allowed him to take her banter as jest, and she was grateful for that.

  A gust of wind cooled the back of her head when the front door opened. Finally, her aunt had made it home.

  “Ariana?”

  The surprise contained in the questioning tone didn’t trouble her half as much as the voice at her back. Cameron and her shaman turned their heads toward the door while she kept on staring ahead.

  At nothing. At anything but the person standing behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Heart palpitating like a trapped sparrow, she stood up before spinning round to face him. She took him in with a single glance. Few days had passed since their last meeting, yet he looked almost like a stranger. Or rather someone life had estranged her from.

  She looked at the cropped hair, the straight nose, the candid glow constantly shining in his eyes, and her insides squirmed. As a genuine smile lit his whole face, she took a step toward him. Three hurried strides brought him in front of her. His delighted expression speaking volumes, he grabbed her waist and spun her round without a care for the other two men in the room.

  “Ariana. I’m so happy to see you.”

  “The feeling is mutual, but you’re making me dizzy now. Please, Kelton, put me down.”

  Although the Lord of the Clans showed no reaction at the mention of his rival’s name, she perceived a sudden stiffness in his stance. A change so subtle that she knew nobody would catch except her. For the love of the Creators, how and when had she become so attuned to him?

  Kelton set her down with a last hug. While she smoothed her rippling skirts, his welcoming smile broadened.

  “We’ve been expecting your arrival for four days, and I was getting fretful. What took you so long?”

  Would she have to confess again that her sense of direction needed to be improved? Before she had time to find another plausible excuse for the delay, her shaman butted in.

  “I’m sorry, dear girl, it seems I forgot to mention your betrothed accompanied me all the way from home.”

  Did he refer to Kelton as her betrothed on purpose? Why would he flaunt his discovery in her face even if he had somehow figured out she’d become intimate with their lord. Reminded of Cameron’s initial distrust, she wondered
anew if her shaman might have an ulterior motive.

  “I can see that.”

  In spite of his apology, the stiffness she perceived in Cameron didn’t subside, not even when her mentor gestured.

  “Kelton, let me introduce the Lord of the Clans.”

  Her betrothed gasped. His eyes widened, and the flush on his cheeks gave evidence of his astonishment. Fidgeting like a bewildered child, he flexed one knee while inclining his head.

  “It’s such an honour to meet you, my lord. I’d never have guessed... I mean, I can’t imagine you here with us.”

  His bumbling speech and humble attitude didn’t soften up the Lord of the Clans, whose expression remained the picture of coldness. She desperately wanted to glance his way, but knew that a single look at him would be her undoing. She needed to be strong.

  He’d hate her for what she was about to do, yet she didn’t have the right to quail now. Taking hold of Kelton’s hand for all to witness, she addressed Cameron and her shaman.

  “Would you excuse us? I need a moment alone with Kelton.”

  Without waiting for a response, she pulled the young man toward the door. He stumbled behind her, but regained his balance and let himself be dragged outside. The first mild spring night welcomed them while she strode down the street, away from the forest. Kelton in tow, she walked to the fountain they had circled past upon their arrival in Frahern.

  Candles glowed behind closed windows, and children’s joyful squeals sometimes cut through shut doors. People must be enjoying a quiet evening at home because the square around the fountain appeared deserted. Checking the place was dry, she sat on the stone surface surrounding the basin while Kelton shot her a perplexed look.

  “That wasn’t very polite, Ariana.”

  “I know. I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Sure, but you should have used some diplomacy, instead of running off like that. What is our Lord going to think of us now?”

  Although irritation slowed down his speech, she could still see the youthful candour he’d always carry with him in his features. The sweetheart she had left at home days ago now stirred within her a sadness she finally acknowledged. Her life and desires would never be the same.