The Defender

by Rachel Rossano

  THE DEFENDER

  BOOK TWO OF THE TALENTED

  By Rachel Rossano

  ©2019 Rachel Rossano

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form without the prior written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, or journal.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to a retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Though actual locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner and the events and occurrences were invented in the mind and imagination of the author. Similarities of characters to any person, past, present, or future, are coincidental.

  Scripture quotations taken from the New American Standard Bible® (NASB), Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation

  Used by permission. www.Lockman.org

  Cover by Rossano Designs

  Table of Contents

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII

  Chapter XIV

  Chapter XV

  Chapter XVI

  Chapter XVII

  Chapter XVIII

  Chapter XIX

  About the Author

  Also by Rachel Rossano

  Sneak Peeks

  Romans 12:1-2

  1Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship. 2And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect. [NASB]

  2 Corinthians 4:15-17

  15 For all things are for your sakes, so that the grace which is spreading to more and more people may cause the giving of thanks to abound to the glory of God. 16 Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. 17 For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison,

  Chapter I

  Zezilia

  The sun peered over the rosy horizon and stretched its golden arms. The goddess’ city glowed dusky pink in the early morning’s embrace. I couldn’t help appreciating its architectural beauty as we approached by the main road. Positioned in the center of the plain atop the great plateau, it rose strong and sprawling amidst the low brush, tall grasses, and sparse trees. The walls, when not painted by the sun, marched about the outskirts of the city in gray regality. The few buildings I could see beyond the walls boasted of red clay roofs and whitewashed walls.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Hadrian’s rich taste filled my mouth as his words unfolded in my mind. He slowed his mount to walk beside mine. Considering his rank as sept son, second in rank to the high king, he was exceptionally personable.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Too bad it is for the glory of a nonexistent goddess.”

  “Why do you attend the Caelestis Novem when you do not honor the goddess? Isn’t it hard to go through the motions when there is no truth in them?”

  He didn’t look at me, but I could sense his sadness. My sensitivity to his emotions seemed to grow the longer I remained in his presence.

  For the past week of travel, I had barely seen the sept son because I kept to the company of my brother, Blan, and his small family. My sister-in-law, Donata, and I had become instant friends. I reveled in the playtime with my one-year-old niece, Ardyne, despite the constant travel.

  However, yesterday the sept son had called for me. He explained that I would be traveling with his company into the city and leaving my family behind. We left the larger portion of his entourage encamped at the base of the plateau in the pre-dawn hours and moved onward to the city. I had only been three hours in his company, but it was as if I was touching his emotions and feeling them with him.

  “I must. It is my duty.” He frowned. “I try to avoid what I can. The ceremonies grow more difficult each year, but I cannot be absent. It would give those who wish me thrown out another complaint to bring before the high king.”

  Errol had told me of those who opposed the sept son, but the threat seemed suddenly real when the Sept Son Aleron spoke of it. Perhaps it was the concern in his voice. “Is there a chance of them succeeding?” I asked.

  Hadrian, for he kept insisting I call him Hadrian in private, smiled at me. “Are you planning on changing sides if they do?”

  “No, I just want to know what the situation is. Aren’t they going to be suspicious of the camp we left at the base of the plateau?”

  “I brought a company with me last year. It is widely known that I am on progress. Traveling around the country requires a large entourage. It is more likely that they are relieved that I am not expecting them all to be housed and fed by the high king.” He slowed his horse as Renato, my brother, approached.

  “The envoys report that the preparations have been made for your arrival, Master,” Renato announced. “It appears that the kings have all arrived and are in attendance.”

  “Isn’t that unusual?” I asked. We were arriving a day earlier than most celebrants were scheduled to arrive.

  “It is,” Hadrian agreed. “Is there an official explanation?” he asked Renato.

  “The high king called a special meeting to discuss a matter of great importance. Supposedly, you were sent an invitation as required by law, but our correspondence is so delayed, we still haven’t received it.” Renato grimaced. “Sounds like the work of the mesitas.”

  “Don’t be so quick to judge,” Hadrian admonished. “We don’t know enough yet. When we do, then we will deal with it. All is still in the Almighty’s hands.”

  “I hope it is,” Renato commented, “because the goddess has been working with the enemy. Have you briefed Zez on the procedures?”

  “Not yet.”

  Turning in his saddle so that he could address me, my brother began spouting a list of rules. “Do not discuss anything of confidential nature with anyone outside of the sept son’s inner apartments. When within the inner rooms, don’t discuss anything without first requesting that the room be secured. Speak to no one other than those in the sept son’s entourage beyond what is necessary. It would probably be best for you to not speak to anyone without us.”

  Hadrian interrupted, “Stay close to Renato or me. Your father and many others are going to want to speak to you once they see you.”

  I nodded. Already, I had seen a foreshadowing of what was to come. Once I donned my uniform for the first time that morning, everyone in the camp began to treat me differently. The non-talents, who had ignored me or welcomed me in the days before, suddenly held me at a more formal distance. They were respectful, but I was no longer seen as one of them.

  I also attracted some interest among the Talented. Their attention was more motivated by curiosity. Just walking from Blan and Donata’s tent to the sept son’s tent, I received at least five mental nudges as different Talents tested my barriers. I didn’t react, but I noted their
tastes. For other Talents, their probings would have been undetectable, but my increasing sensitivity made it so I couldn’t completely ignore them.

  “What if Father wants to speak to me?” I asked.

  “Don’t speak with your father.” Hadrian’s face fell into grim lines; his eyes studied my face. “Promise me that you will not speak to your father.”

  “Isn’t that a little harsh?” Renato asked.

  Hadrian ignored him. His eyes didn’t leave mine. “Remember our conversation from before?” “He will try to make you leave me and your training. He will try to use you.” A wave of hesitancy washed over me with the intensifying of his taste. “I promised your mother that I would not let your father have you. She believes he would use you without regard for your wellbeing. She is afraid of him.”

  Slowly, I nodded. Since Renato had not heard Hadrian’s sending, I had to grasp around for a reply that fit both the spoken question and the sent explanation. “I understand. I will not speak with him.”

  Hadrian nodded and turned away to look at the road before him, but Renato didn’t accept the hint to drop the subject. “Hadrian, I can’t take care of things if I am not completely informed about what is happening.”

  “You don’t need to know this. Just keep her away from your father. If he wants to discuss her future, refer him to me. I am her guardian. She is no longer in his care.”

  Renato looked stormy, but he accepted the instructions without protest. Instead, he continued to prepare me for the upcoming events. “Your quarters should be adjacent Hadrian’s and mine. You are now part of the sept son’s escort. We accompany him to all formal dinners and wait upon him.” Carefully, he outlined the exact procedures and protocols that I was to follow. Thankful for Errol’s training, I committed them all to memory.

  “I don’t want her serving me,” Hadrian commented. “She will take Anton’s place at my left hand.”

  “But what about Anton’s position as your defender?”

  “She trained for it, and I will keep her close. You don’t seem to understand what her presence is going to mean to those that follow the mesitas. She is going to cause a small sensation just by being female and a trained Talent, but when they realize that that uniform is more than honorary, she is going to be seen as a tool they can use against me. That is why I want you always at my side, Renato. If she is in my company, you are to be there also.”

  Renato nodded. “With me as a chaperone, you cannot be accused of…” His voice dropped away.

  “Impropriety,” I offered with a slight smile. My manly big brother was blushing slightly.

  “You should also avoid your father,” Hadrian told Renato. “Remember what he is entrenched in before he sways you with references to familial allegiance or entreaties of fatherly advice. He almost had you last time you spoke.”

  “Will you never let me forget that?”

  “No. Learn from the past so that we can build a better future.”

  “Sept Son?” A young man in a defender uniform approached. “We need to form the procession, Master.”

  Hadrian nodded his approval. Within moments, we were surrounded by a sea of blues of all shades. The light blue of the trainee to the dark navy of the defender’s uniform, they formed ranks around us.

  “Stay at my side.” I turned to find Hadrian watching me.

  “I understand.”

  “I know…”

  I raised a hand to stop his thought. “I do understand, Hadrian. Stop worrying.”

  “Thank you for understanding.”

  “Tell me what to expect.”

  He smiled at the change in topic. “First, there is the procession into the city through the eastern gate. We will proceed down the main avenue and then turn onto the royal approach. When we reach the steps of the high king’s palace, High King Marcellus will offer the traditional greeting, and we will be escorted to our chambers.”

  As the last of his words flickered through my thoughts, the great doors of the Eastern Gate were beside us. I gazed in appreciation at the foot thick wooden doors as we passed. Just beyond them, the iron portcullis’ tips hung suspended over our heads, each the width of my wrist. On my one journey into the goddess’ city with my family, we had entered by the southern gate, which wasn’t as well fortified or as impressive.

  The avenue beyond spread out wide, and lanterns decorated the edges. Garlands of ferns and deep red garshroses draped from window to window. The blood hue of the blooms honored the goddess, but by noon they would be wilting in the summer sun.

  My energy-sight picked up the golden-brown of my brother’s energy and the richer brown of Hadrian’s mixing into a screen around the three of us. Hadrian’s energy field seemed to be thicker around me than himself and Renato. Renato’s focus seemed to be Hadrian. I quickly added my energy to the mix. Green flooded around us thicker than either of their fields.

  “You don’t have to lay it on that thick.” Hadrian’s taste flooded my mouth with a strong undercurrent of amusement. I glanced over at him. He was still looking straight ahead as though nothing had happened, but my brother shot me a look of surprise. I quickly thinned the field to match theirs.

  We passed through the opening to the royal approach. It was guarded by two towering pinnacles shrouded in gowns of garshroses. Vague memories of making a similar entrance to the royal grounds flickered, but they were soon replaced with the beauty that spread out before us as we turned onto the white gravel road. On the left, ash trees rose in a magnificent host, stretching from the public road to the high royal palazzo in the distance. To the right, the green grassy carpet covered the hillside, falling away from us and down toward the widest of the many rivers and streams that wound through the grounds. The great open expanse of green called to me in a strange way I had not felt before. Something within me wished to wander barefoot across the lush living carpet and nap in the sun like a contented cat.

  “Luxurious, isn’t it?” Hadrian’s voice slipped through my thoughts as though it were one of them. The natural feel of its presence made me almost forget to reply.

  “How do they maintain it? It must take hours to trim every week.”

  Hadrian’s laughter flooded through my mind. It took me a minute to realize that his laughter was for me alone. I glanced his way only to find him still staring straight ahead and looking slightly bored. “Only you would think of that,” he sent.

  “So how do they do it?” I couldn’t help wanting to keep him distracted. He was dreading the ceremonies ahead.

  “A team of fifty gardeners constantly work to care for all the grounds. The high king’s gardens are famous throughout the kingdom for their elaborate beauty.”

  “I love the willows best,” I commented. “I have spent a great deal of time among them and found they are wonderful company.”

  Hadrian’s warm agreement was interrupted by a greeting party appearing on the wide raised terrace that spread before the main entrance. I recognized the arches and columns behind them from my one previous visit. Hadrian straightened his shoulders, and Renato sent me instructions on exactly what to do as we drew up. Straightening my shoulders beneath my new uniform, I composed my face and raised my mental guard. From now on, Hadrian and Renato’s lives were my main concern.

  By the time we were within hearing, the welcoming company had arranged themselves across the top steps of the terrace. Each king, with their chief advisor at his side, stood stiff and formal. My father was on the far left, the place held by the family that hasn’t held the high throne for the longest time. Ten generations of kings had passed since the Ilars had held the highest kingship. As I lowered my guard toward my father, I grew sensitive to the hatred that radiated from him. Instinctively, I raised my guard again. Then, more cautiously, I tried to see the object of his displeasure. Despite the warnings of Hadrian and Errol, I was stunned to find that all of my father’s hatred was focused on Hadrian. I was even more disturbed to discover that the other kings near my father also seemed to share his
emotion.

  On the other end of the array, the former High King Honorus’ son, Cayphis Honorus, braced his feet firmly on the marble beneath them. A sensation of relief seemed to come from him, aimed toward Hadrian. He alone, among the lower kings, appeared pleased to see the sept son arrive.

  “Welcome, Sept Son Aleron,” High King Deucalion Marcellus called out to us from his place standing before the kings. Surrounded by six armed, formal guards and wearing the elaborate robes of the high king, I almost didn’t recognize the childhood friend of my brothers.

  Janus and Deucalion had trained together, fought together, and for much of their childhood were inseparable. I remembered him as a gangly teenage boy from the summer I first tagged along with my brothers. While Janus, Clovis, and Blan all ignored me or told me to go away, Deuc always found time to distract me with a game or prank idea. Even now, there was kindness in Deucalion’s saddened, weary eyes when he stepped forward to greet Hadrian as he dismounted.

  “Welcome to my estate. May you be blessed while you stay beneath my roof and bless my household with good things.” It was the formal greeting demanded by ceremony, but I could see that he truly meant it as he grasped Hadrian’s left forearm and saluted with his right hand.

  * * *

  Hadrian

  Something was indeed wrong. Deucalion’s grip on my arm was like a vise. I suddenly wished the law did not demand that the high king be a non-Talent. Now I would have to wait until we had the opportunity for a private conference before I could find out what shadowed his eyes.

  “Welcome, Sept Son,” a familiar voice interrupted. My stomach churned as I took a deep breath. The heavily scented air that assailed my nose made me wish I hadn’t. I suppressed a sneeze as I turned to greet the mesitas formally.