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

by E Cantu Alegre

  Moments of eternity passed when his ears picked up the sound of the throne room doors closing. She was a safe enough distance now. Lanico finally lowered his arm, his barrier from Treva’s front.

  “Why didn’t you kill her?” she heard herself shout. “She’s getting away!” Treva made a step toward Cantata’s path, holding her sword’s bloodied grip tightly. Lanico abruptly stopped her, holding his arm out again.

  “Stop.” A stern order.

  Defiant, Treva forcefully thrust his arm down.

  Treva’s brown eyes glared up at him. “Why?”

  Lanico swallowed and looked down at Treva with a soft look, one that people gave when they saw a helpless, injured animal but Treva wasn’t convinced. Fires no! She’d been the one who put those lame animals down on her farm in the past.

  “Treva, she’s not done any harm and she’s…”

  “What! You believe her? That she is actually going to have Grude’s baby? That she knows already? Have you ever—ever—heard of anything so outrageous!?” Treva railed. Her flushed cheeks were a contrast against her green brilliant hair as she puffed.

  “I’m taking that chance.” Lanico sheathed his sword in a swift glide. There was no way to explain to a non-Fray.

  “Lan, she made a threat against you—a royal. Plus, she’ll use that baby, that lie, to garner support against us—”

  “Time will tell,” he interjected as they took steps outside the kitchen. “Until then, we must focus on what’s in front of us.” His resolve had returned: irritatingly calm and stoic. He couldn’t give a shit about Cantata, her threats, or her rage. The other matter, was already worlds away in his mind because right now in this moment, he gave her a look she was still too furious to read. He took a step closer toward her.

  Dismissing him, she huffed, whirling to pace toward the pile of dead guards, and kneeled. There she wiped her sword on a dead guard’s tunic. Meticulously, she gathered blades, all of them—her various daggers that had been placed or had fallen. Lanico came from behind and knelt down next to her. She puffed, blowing out a breath that caught a stray lock of her emerald hair. He leaned in closer to her.

  Focused on her swords, she could see his annoying smile sidelong. She softened a little and turned to look at him. Her emerald hair caught murky light. She was still furious though—she loathed when her General came in between her and her kills. She didn’t know if she was ready to forgive him yet.

  Lanico studied her, greatly amused. So deadly, so beautiful, so small, and so-so angry. He watched her puffing and the angry arm jerks at her movements. A wave of joy, elation, swept over him. He could no longer contain the emotion that had been trapped inside. His heart hammered, brimming with jubilation at what had just happened. At what he had dreamed about for so very long. His victory, the freeing of the WynSprigns, his reclaiming the throne to his kingdom. It was here! It had happened! The misery of countless, the death of Izra, and his father’s murder finally avenged! Reality came as warmed honey enrobing him fully.

  Decidedly ignoring the pain, ignoring that ridiculous temper of hers, he laughed a thundering roll, bordering on maniacal. The sound filled the space around them. Snubbing the hurt, he threw out his arms, bringing her into himself. “We won, Tre! Against all the odds tossed, we won!” His breath tingled in her ear. He backed away, threw his head back, and shouted in a voice that rang clear, “We won!” His laugh was robust and bounded through the space, against her lungs and heart. He breathed and leaned into her again, still holding her. She dropped her swords in response and felt the corners of her mouth turn up. She melted, immediately forgetting whatever it was she was pissed-off about.

  It was true, no matter how angry she was at that moment for not being permitted to dispatch Cantata, they had completed the mission. The mission that had seemed impossible, unthinkable for so long. Latently realizing this she felt herself relax in his solid hold, so small in his embrace.

  “We did it?” She smiled, looking at him and trying to comprehend still. “We actually did it! We won the kingdom back—the people—each other!” Lanico intently gazed into Treva’s smiling eyes. He cradled her head in his hands and brushed his lips against hers. Oh fires. Her long green hair was as messy as his and was coming free of its tie. His fingers tangled within her luminous volume. Together they remained kneeling on the pillowed dead Mysra corpses that they had briefly forgotten about, piled beneath them. They held each other tightly and for once, since the seizure, there was certain peace and almost disbelief.

  A new reality. A new life.

  After an unknown time, that had likely been only seconds, pieces of mortar and dust hissed to the floor, breaking the silence. Lanico pulled away from the fervent kiss and allure of those golden-flaked brown eyes, to spy the cracks in the mortar from the guards’ previous pounding. “I’m going to have to get that fixed.”

  Treva followed his gaze to the wall and shrugged, looking back at him. “Your castle, you can do anything you want.”

  An impish half grin spread. “And I know exactly what I want to do.”

  Understanding his meaning, she felt a wave of heat from her core. He responded by holding her tighter, pressing parts of her against himself, taking her in completely.

  The kingdom was his. He was finally home with the love of his life, his bride-to-be. A new future awaited them and the rest of the land.

  ✽✽✽

  Cantata ran feverishly outside, just reaching the base of the castle. Once at the bottom, she succumbed to the convulsing from the pit of her stomach and collapsed on all fours to vomit. Her mind swirled with interwoven feelings—despair, hatred, disgust, and anger. It took every ounce of energy to walk out from the castle. To leave it all behind. To leave her castle home of all these years. To leave Grude there… Her face crinkled. She couldn’t take it anymore. Raw emotion overwhelmed her, and she sobbed between forceful heaves. Her fingers clawed the muddied ground.

  Once she had purged all from her gut and from her spirit, she rocked herself to her bottom and wiped her mouth with her forearm and then the many layers of her gown. Sunken, she held her face with dirtied hands. She appeared as a crumpled, ink-stained indigo flower. She gave no care that there hadn’t been anyone around to comfort her, but her face hardened and her lips tightened into a thin line. She knew that she would have her way—her mind was fixed on this. On revenge. Like the tight twisting of a leather cord coiled, groaning, in her gut. She would make Lanico pay for everything he took from her and her unborn child—making her cede her place in the castle. She slowly came to a stand. She gathered herself, her resolve, and marched her strides westward. To the WynSprign Village. To the tavern. Her pocket was still heavy, bouncing at her steps. She knew exactly what to do. She meant what she said to Lanico. She would make him suffer just as she was now suffering.

  Chapter 30

  Wicked satisfaction

  He ignored the prick that had radiated pain from the base of his ankle, but now it had been hours and he was struggling. What started out as a slight limp and hardened resolve, now looked like a twisted foot and illness that had set upon him. His beautiful bronze skin and sharp eyes were now dull, unfocused, and glazed. He rightfully distanced himself to the area they used as their former ‘shouting grounds’ for isolation. Perhaps, he considered, just for a little rest is all. Maybe he’d fare better after?

  “Freck?” Felena’s voice was laced with concern as she made bold strides closer. She was an honest one. Quiet in nature, but also never one to hold back on her true feelings on things. He found himself huffing a low laugh and giving her his favorite cocky smile. She found me. All the way over here.

  “Freck. You haven’t been looking well, in fact…” Her turquoise gaze shifted off to something else and then back at him. “I think you’re ill and hiding it.”

  “No,” he grunted, pushing himself off a small tree that he had been leaning on for support. “No, I’m just fine Felena. You worry too much.”

  Her face became twis
ted and her words sounded bitter, “You’re lying to me.”

  Damn it! She can tell. Freck placed a step and in that instant, the world spun. His knees wobbled. He felt himself collapse and heard Felena shriek. She came down, close to his face.

  “No more lying, Freck. What in the fires happened? Where does it hurt?”

  He groaned.

  “Freck, you need to tell me so we can know how to help.”

  In those seconds he denied himself the urge to do a multitude of inappropriate things given her close proximity. For a split second, he had seriously considered grabbing her, and pulling her down for a kiss. But, no. She would only hate him more. Though embarrassed, he finally confessed, “I jabbed my foot—my ankle—on a barb a few hours ago, likely poisoned.” By old poison no less. A wave of pain gripped his foot, his leg. He groaned at a spasm before continuing, “It was on one of the rounds helping to carry elder folks over.”

  Her eyes widened. That had been hours ago. “Freck, you’re going to need medicine. This—this will only get worse!” But from where and what kind of medicine—she hadn’t any clue. She stood whirling her gaze around, looking needlessly.

  All that had surrounded them were the trees they sheltered in, and in the distance the swarming crowd of WynSprigns—waiting for the clearance to reenter. Her heart raced as she lowered and daringly cradled his face in her palm. “I will be back. I promise.” She hated leaving him. But she’d go around asking for help, for any hope of medicine.

  He watched her form shrink from view before his eyes winked closed.

  ✽✽✽

  Lanico and Treva walked slowly side by side through the maze of huts at the castle base and on toward through the mine huts. It was time to announce to their people the victory that had been claimed. Before the trench and almost at the hill, they noticed the stench of decay. Lanico squinted at this and searched for his cloak—and regretfully remembered he wasn’t wearing it this time. He winced and covered his nose and mouth with the crook of his arm as they walked. Treva, also aware of the reek, pleasingly remembered Nizen. They were close to the border, to her old hut. A smile curved on her face.

  “Lan, one moment.” The dusty cinnamon of her voice was calm, but she had that glint in her eye, the kind that drove him insane. Just as casually as if she were spying trinkets down a Prondolin shopping lane, she strolled lazily down the length of the row of huts, toward her former hut. He could see her grab a blazing torch, still aflame from the previous night and undeterred by the rains. She held the flaring torch high as she walked closer to a hut, to her hut. The foul smell became increasingly jarring.

  Lanico looked at her curiously from the small distance. “Tre, what-what are you going to do with that?” His face, his words muffled in his arm.

  Her laughter chimed high and light, as the twinkling of bells before she said, “This was my old hut.” She glanced at the shabby hut to the left of her and looked back at Lanico. “And...it is currently the grave of Nizen, a ranked Mysra guard.” Her smile grew in great, wicked satisfaction. Without breaking her focus from Lanico’s eyes, she casually tossed the flame through the hut’s curtain door, without looking where it landed. Instantly the flame roared and she grinned as she slowly ambled back toward him. A rolling inferno behind her coiled wild orange and black flames. Smoke that would soon touch the sky. The bright orange light cast a glow on Treva’s dark smile and gleaming brown eyes.

  She never had told Lanico where Nizen’s body was hidden, but now he knew.

  He removed his arm. “Oh well. That explains it.” He cast a grim look down at her, but there was amusement dancing behind his azure eyes. “You never did share with me that detail.” He was her General, again. “You’ve been one naughty little Knight.”

  “Well, perhaps you’ll have, one naughty Knight.” She purred through the play of words. She meant them in every way possible.

  A sly smile crested just before he pulled her in for another kiss. One taste of her and he wanted her. Oh, gods she is the most delectable treat. Now. He opened his eyes, glancing at the other abandoned huts, thinking... But then, there was more to the dull roar of the fire, there was a din in the distance. Hundreds, or more akin to a thousand of his people, waited in safety for word. They were still fearful. They still believed themselves to be fleeing. Against the deep urges of his mind, of his body, he pulled away from her.

  She moaned in disappointment, “Lan, there are huts—so many, many huts. Where we could…” The gold flecks of her molten brown eyes searched his.

  That fox’s smile of his reappeared. “I’ll not have you in a tattered hut, or against a tree for our very first time.” “It will be better than that. I promise.”

  She sighed, and gave a nod though she shouldn’t have minded it against a tree either.

  “We must get to the others waiting for our return, our news.”

  As they maneuvered through the trench and climbed the hill, throngs of cheering WynSprigns had gathered and some Mysra—celebrating Mysra! They had all been waiting for them.

  As they made their way up, Gish, Marin, and Anah stood.

  Lika, who to everyone’s delight, had made it here to safety as well. She belted at that crowd with her voice of steel, “All hail King Lanico Loftre, rightful ruler of the Odana!”

  “Hail King Lanico Loftre!” they responded, some bowing, others kneeling.

  Lanico’s eyes widened. Never had he imagined this. Finding this enormous crowd awaiting before him. Cheering for him. They were all free. They were all safe.

  His heart swelled. They had done it! He felt for Treva’s hand, just at his side, and wrapped his fingers around hers.

  They had reclaimed the Odana lands and kingdom.

  Peace and order could finally be restored.

  He roamed his eyes over his young warriors. He couldn’t have accomplished this feat, had it not been for them. But he noticed two were missing and his heart stopped.

  His smile disappeared as he made his way closer to toward Marin, who was at that moment was in a lingering embrace with Anah. Their faces weren’t shining so very brightly. “Where are Freck and Felena?” He asked, already sensing unease.

  Marin didn’t make any effort to separate from Anah, if anything their arms only tightened more. It was his expression that gave both Lanico and Treva a feeling of foreboding.

  “He’s—” Marin grabbed for his necklace and twisted it between his fingers, “he’s been injured. Felena is tending to him now.” He jerked his head to the forest, toward their previous grounds.

  ✽✽✽

  Lanico and Treva could make out their forms. Anah and Marin had jogged with them. Freck and Felena had settled in an area far away from the others, their old shouting grounds. Felena had been sitting on the grasses, hovering over Freck who was lying flat. His leg had been propped up on a medium-sized rock. The pant leg was rolled up just under his knee. Lanico lowered it and could spy a puncture wound that had black, spidery veins branching from its center and clawing around the circumference of his ankle and leg. His bronze skin was tinged slickly yellow. His face looked damnably ashen.

  Treva was the first to speak, “What happened?” Lanico’s eyes darted to Felena’s at this horror-laced question.

  She swallowed. “He said that he was poked while carrying slaves across—hours ago.”

  “It was on a barb,” Treva concluded, looking into Lanico’s wide eyes.

  Felena’s voice was anguished as she said, “I tried to ask if anyone knew where we could find medicine, but no one has-”

  Freck moaned, cutting off Felena, and their attention was immediately back on him. He coughed and white foam began to sputter from his pale lips. Felena inhaled, stifling a cry. Treva leaned in toward her, cradling the young warrior against herself.

  Lanico looked to Treva. “Poison.” He breathed. “I’ll see what I can do.” He held her stare and said without words, “Take them from here. I’ll need to work on him alone and I’ll need some time.”

&
nbsp; “Yes, of course.” She moved to stand. “Come, your King will see to Freck’s care.” She helped Felena up and looked at Marin. “He’s going to need a few moments to assess him.” Treva glanced at Lanico and then back to Felena. “We’ll leave them for now.”

  Marin understood well the secret healing powers of his father. Nothing more needed to be said. It was with Felena that they found reluctance.

  “You’re certain that you’ll be able to help him?” Her voice was strong, though the look lashed on her face read terrified.