The Legacy of Lanico: Return of the Son: Book two of the Legacy of Lanico series

by E Cantu Alegre

  Treva huffed a slight laugh. “Oh yes, I had quite forgotten about them.” Though her tone had suggested otherwise. She quirked a half smile but Lanico’s rigidity didn’t seem to diminish. “Well? What else?” She looked into his eyes and he avoided meeting her stare—that connection they shared. She knew in that instant there was more information that he could share and she was determined to find out what he was keeping from her.

  “C’mon.” She said playfully, and gently touched his wrist. His gaze met her’s again and something behind his eyes hinted at a painful regret. She gave him a small reassuring smile anyway. He ceded at her insistence, completely caving and telling her about his harrowing tale. Of his unfortunate stay here involving WynSprign-consuming hags—hags that had purposely appeared as gorgeous, curvaceous beings trying very hard to seduce him in order to poison him and, ultimately, consume him. Hags that were, thankfully, no longer there.

  Lanico left out the part where the one hag, whose name currently escaped him, reminded him of Treva somehow. The source of his apparent regret. For him, it was a shameful memory of how that hag, appearing at the time as a goddess with glowing emerald hair, had managed to bring him to the point of arousal. Of how something as disgraceful as that hag could in any way be reminiscent of his beloved now standing before him.

  As much as he tried to avoid it, Treva understood clearly there was more he was keeping from her. She left that to him. There were things that she had to trust him with and whatever happened, it was obvious he felt it too disturbing to go into detail about. She would leave it alone.

  Some time passed before they had gathered wood, water, and their rations. Lanico spoke of other tales aside the crackling flame with Treva adding in on occasion. There was a peace that settled over. It was an easier space of time. At Lanico’s urging, they turned in for the night. It was still early, for they had to wake before the sun and travel onward to Gray Rock. It was lucky that two of the hags had since been put to death by his own hand and the remaining one, likely by the hands of the Mysra he determined.

  Sleep fell fast and easy, knowing their threat had been eliminated—or at least for now. True to his word, Lanico woke them early. He loathed wasting time and sought to avoid sleep while the sun reigned the day. Once again, in seemingly no time, Treva and Lanico traveled closely, riding side-by-side. Their knees brushed often. It was obvious that the two had an interest in each other that stretched beyond their professional relationship. Their glances told a story of mature affection, admiration, and even, love. The easy smiles and light laughs. The way his stare lingered on her—he wanted more than to simply look upon her. They had a history, the two. There was something as seasoned as a great wine about their relationship that took place long before the two younger warriors had been born. It was apparent.

  Freck, removing his stare from them, took in a deep breath and turned in his seat to look once more at Felena. She twisted to meet his gaze with a dry glare. No love or affection in those turquois eyes. No. She broke the connection, as if slowly tearing at a cut of meat jerky, and cast her glare in the opposite direction. And it bothered him. He didn’t quite know why, but it did.

  Later, while their horses continued plodding along, Freck and Felena had been bickering over the quality of fledging that her family was known for versus the arrow fledging quality of his family. The benefits to her family’s style and then his. Then, the curiously foreboding, but welcomed image of Gray Rock rose in the distance and the two young warriors were instantly transfixed. Their bitter prattling immediately silenced as doused fire, to be replaced by twin gasps.

  Lanico felt the corner of his mouth turn up in satisfaction.

  The tall gray collection of rocks jutting from the ground seemed a random angry act of nature. The rocks were looming towers and narrow megaliths that gave way to smaller and equally sharp jutting rocks beneath. It was almost as if staring at a collection of huge gray dragon teeth that had been thrusted and speared into the ground by Father Odan Himself.

  Dusk at Gray Rock created shadows against the immense megaliths and boulders that projected from the land. The small mountainous form had missed Mysra visits recently. Their defeated opponents had apparently taken another route back to the Odana. Thankfully for Lanico and his team there were still rabbits roaming, waiting to be killed for roasting. Gray Rock had been known for a plentiful rabbit population for many years.

  The fire crackled and breathed warmth into the setting coolness. Lanico and Treva were still sitting very near each other, readying their weapons for hunting. His sword, Reluctant Leader, hummed with an unknown energy as it lay at his side. Treva selected a bow and a fistful of fledged arrows from a large quiver that held many such more. Her thumb ran over the point of one arrow and trailed to the fledging. Despite her known hatred for this particular weapon, the look on her face read impressive. The reliance on bow-hunting in the Great Mist was never before so evident. Skilled crafting bristled at her fingertips.

  There was still enough light to accomplish the task of hunting. Their legs were touching as Lanico and Treva sat side-by-side on the ground. Bows and two quivers filled with arrows—arrows that Freck had proudly fletched himself back in the Great Mist where they had been preparing. As they sorted through the various items and weapons, they—the young warriors—were silent. Freck and Felena sat near each other, but not nearly as close as the two adults, who had been chatting almost nonstop until finally the General Prince turned to them and announced, “Treva and I will be back with rabbits. We shouldn’t be gone for long.” Freck opened his mouth to protest but Lanico peered at them with his eyes aglow and spoke his demand first, “Keep that fire going. The sun will set soon enough.”

  Lanico understood, glancing at the frown on Freck’s face, that he was a hunter—of course the boy wanted to go with him. Lanico had to make some excuse; that it had to be him and Treva to go instead. Perhaps it had been a noticeable excuse to get away and alone with each other, but to him, that didn’t matter. He was beyond caring about Freck’s opinion in that moment.

  Lanico and Treva rounded the rocky corner and disappeared, taking the sounds of their gravel-grinding steps with them.

  Freck once again looked at Felena. She silently sat on the ground hugging her knees against her chest. She wasn’t happy, that he could easily tell, and it wasn’t due to their previous squabbling. No. It was something more. “It’ll be nice, traveling to the Odana Forest and meeting Lanico’s mother.” He tried for conversation, searching her pretty face.

  She wasn’t up for talking, but noticed his efforts at friendliness. “Yeah, it will be nice to, well…” she sighed “…to do something different.” Her voice was quiet against the fire’s crackling hiss.

  More silence.

  Freck was used to being the silent one, but this—this bothered him. He loathed seeing Felena in such a dejected state. If he was honest with himself, he felt an admiration for her. She was kindhearted and a great fighter and skilled at the sword. He’d seen the way she brought down the Mysra warriors back at home. The words that Stefin spoke about her lingered fresh as morning dew in his mind. Felena is beautiful and tough—if I choose my life mate, I’d want her to be fun and like the things I like.

  Like his grandfather Fenner, his dear friend Stefin was gone. Freck poked at burning kindling and swallowed back the lump in his throat. He sighed pensively before he finally said, “Look, Felena, I-I’m sorry about Stefin.” His soft words surprised even him as they flowed from his mouth so freely. “I know how much he meant to you. He cared for you, a lot, and I know that he’d be heartbroken to see you sad like this.”

  Her eyes darted to his. Her face began to crinkle and her petal-pink lips faltered. Freck was immediately taken back at this. He paused his poking at the fire just as a sob suddenly burst from her. It appeared she no longer could contain the sadness that she kept caged within, not a single moment longer. Her brave, hardened exterior now washed away with the trickling of her own hot tears. She had bee
n a dam, waiting for a moment to burst, and that moment had finally come.

  Freck wasn’t sure what to do. He dared to move in closer to her. Willed himself to grab on to her, pulling her in for an embrace. She didn’t embrace him back, but he continued to hold her tightly against himself. Her heaving sobs rocked his thin frame. Here, in these moments of emotional contagiousness, Freck felt the sadness lurking in him as well. Mostly for his grandfather—who he chose to not think about during this travel—for this very reason. It made no matter because soon enough, Freck felt the familiar warmth flush across his face, his throat bobbed, and his eyes stung as they watered. He felt himself soften and cry with her. Still holding her with everything in himself. A slight surprise formed at the back of his mind, feeling her arms circle him in return.

  Together they sat on the cool ground, entwined, and utterly feeling the pain and despair that had claimed them these days. Their world had drastically changed; flipped upside-down. People they loved had suffered and perished, and now they found themselves on a journey to help further their cause. To get Lanico back on his throne and to have order for the Odana lands—even the Great Mist. It was something that would have been considered unimaginable mere months ago.

  Freck moved his arm from her, loosening his grip, and began to fidget for something in his pocket. Sniffling, Felena backed away from him slightly to allow him room to dig out whatever it was he was searching for. He pulled a small deer antler from his pocket—Stefin’s antler. He wiped his face with the back of his arm, and extended the antler to Felena. The ivory of it reflected warm peach in the firelight. She took it from him gingerly as if it was a delicate robin’s egg. Her blue eyes, rimmed with pink, darted to his. She gently held the antler bit, thinking of him. Of Stefin.

  “Thank you, Freck.” The sound of her voice was soft and crackled.

  He responded by flinging his arm around her and holding her close. It was nice, drawing her in close. She had brought him a comfort that he wouldn’t dare to allow himself to feel with others. To him, she was home. The comfortable, familiarity of her had always been near throughout their lives. There was gladness knowing that no matter how much their lives were about to change; they would always have each other. Freck now appreciated that Lanico and Treva had left to hunt without him. He needed this time with Felena.

  ✽✽✽

  As they climbed and rounded the rocky outcrop, Lanico suddenly paused. In a flash, he grabbed Treva by the arm, pinning her against a massive stone and moved himself in closer to her space. The raised ground under her footing placed her a little higher. The small quiver at her back dug into her spine, but it didn’t hurt. A wicked grin started to lift from the corners of her mouth as he pressed himself against her. No, he took care of that pain already. He grinned right back. She flung her arms around his neck, pulling him in for that long-awaited kiss. A rocky wall at her back, and the muscled wall that was Lanico at her front. It was most fortunate.

  A spark of heat ignited and the kissing quickly became fervent, desperate. They were two of the same soul, having been apart for far too long. Their kisses were a nourishment, a promise for more. Between kisses he spoke into her mouth, “Oh fires…I’ve been…huh, waiting…to taste you again.” He felt her hands explore the planes of his back, his chest. The battle was over and his heart was still pumping, but somehow harder. The flame within him now started to roar. His hand curled around the side of her waist; his grip tightened.

  She hummed a little, still kissing him in between his words. “Mmm, my King with the healing kisses.”

  He gave a low laugh that felt like the brushing of feathers against her skin. He angled his head back slightly and connected his gaze to hers. “We won!”

  She leaned back. Her lips were now pinker, fuller from his mouth. She smiled, saying in her dusty cinnamon purr, “Yes, that we did.” Her leather sheath belt groaned under his clenched hand as he pulled her in for more. She spoke between his landing kisses, “Careful…you may…break it.”

  He kissed speaking into her mouth, “True. I can…imagine…another way…I’d rather break it.” Or at least stretch it, he didn’t say. Instead, he huffed a dark little laugh. That connection that they had, the sound of her ragged breath in his keen Fray ears. He leaned in more, moving himself against that spot of hers that so ached for his attention and his attention alone.

  She shuddered at feeling him, feeling his arousal against her. “I can too, my King.”

  He whispered gruffly in her ear for clarification, “Remember, still a General Prince in title. A King in role only.” He pressed against her more and a small sound escaped her, nearly caused him to go undone. And, she’d have it. Oh, Odan, she’d take anything that he gave her but…

  Not now.

  Not with the young warriors present. Hidden, but still mere bounds away. He leaned back but resumed looking into her molten brown eyes, softly aglow in the growing dim. He never knew how badly he could miss her eyes, of how lost he’d felt without staring into them.

  “Later?”

  She gave a vixen’s smile and nodded at the surreptitious escape—expecting more would follow. “Later.” She replied in thought. A promise and a demand.

  There were rabbits to catch and cook and the light of day was fleeting. It was a favorite time for rabbits to come out from their burrows. The use of an open fire had to be limited to discourage attention from any possible travelers roaming along the plains.

  “Let’s get to it.” Treva winked and slid an arrow from her quiver. For this task, she admitted that she was begrudgingly thankful that Lanico and Izra had forced her to learn archery all those years ago. Given her old injury, she still despised it as a form of weaponry, but for hunting she conceded it was rather useful.

  She nocked an arrow in place. Lanico’s clenched jaw muscle feathered and he gave her a solid nod.

  ✽✽✽

  The sky was an eternity of black velvet, sprinkled with a diamond dust of brilliant stars. Freck and Felena had never seen a night like this. Even on the clearest of nights in the Great Mist, the misted haze never allowed for it. Now without the campfire ablaze, the cloudless night sky was miraculous. It had been no wonder stories, songs, and poems had been made about such a boundless wonder. The stories of old, now apparently true.

  Their sleeping mats were close to one another, but as expected Lanico’s and Treva’s always remained very close. The sets of glowing eyes proved their wakefulness, each staring into the inky tapestry of stars unspeakable fathoms above, but yet seemingly so near. It was almost too exciting to fall asleep. Freck and Felena were venturing to the land of the Odana, the land of their ancestors—a land of adventure, stories, and freedom. There would be so many wonderful sights and experiences. The possibilities of the future seemed limitless now.

  After what seemed like hours, Freck’s eyes had finally closed. Felena had been waiting for the still of the night. In a quiet movement, she stretched her arm out to Freck’s mat and set the antler bit on top of his chest. The antler rose and descended at Freck’s slow breathing. She then rolled to the side and allowed sleep to take her.

  ✽✽✽

  It was almost a dream. As if the crackling campfire had never been put out. The smell of cooking meat and smoke drifted and lingered in the predawn air. It called to Freck, begging him to open his eyes and eat. Freck obeyed the silent call. His sleep-sealed eyes slowly parted. He had forgotten where he was for that moment.

  Lanico and Treva seemed to be in pleasant spirits. They sat close to one another and were in conversation about Marin: his interests and his hobbies. Freck didn’t care about the boring nonsense surrounding Lanico’s adoptedson. To Freck, there was nothing remotely interesting about Marin. He started to move from under his blanket and noticed something. Something white and of slight weight on his chest began to slide. He stopped to steady it. Lying flat, it was hard to see at first glimpse. He tugged out to free his hand and grasped it. Stefin’s antler bit! It found its way back to him.
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br />   He tossed a glance to Felena. She was still asleep. She had given it back to him at some point in the night. That was nice of her. Freck meant for her to have it, but was secretly glad she gave it back. He liked having it on him, near him, as if Stefin was somehow at his side. Freck had been there when Stefin killed that stag—it was his first deer. It was a reminder of those simpler days and something he had borne witness to. Had been a part of.

  Lanico and Treva were laughing again at something, and Freck smirked, rolling his eyes.

  “Well, he does have your forgetful habits,” Lanico chided his female companion.

  Freck’s ears perked. What?

  “What else does he have in common with me?” Treva asked amusedly, taking back a steaming mug of something and then placing it on the ground beside her.

  Lanico’s silly face became slight. He looked into her eyes and leaned in close, a breath away. His hand curved around her face. “He is your son.” He gave a soft huffed laugh that didn’t reach his eyes and continued in a lower voice, “He is our son.”