The Defender

by Rachel Rossano

  “Korneli is with him.”

  “Korneli?” I struggled to sit up. Zez had to back away hastily to avoid getting hit.

  Not three feet away, Eldivo lay in Korneli’s arms. He was still holding onto life, but his grip was slipping.

  “Shhh...,” Korneli admonished. He leaned close to Eldivo’s mouth. The boy struggled for each breath. His lips moved, but I couldn’t detect whether or not sound came from them. Then, his head rolled back, and his lungs deflated. I half expected them to take in air again, but somehow I knew they wouldn’t. Tears filled my eyes. Please, welcome him, Lord.

  * * *

  Zezilia

  So much death, my heart lay heavily in my chest as I watched Eldivo take his last breath. Although I was happy it wasn’t Hadrian lying in Korneli’s arms, I couldn’t help grieving for the loss of Eldivo’s life and my friend, Eloine. She was going to be heartbroken.

  Korneli carefully closed the boy’s eyes and eased him to the ground as gently as if he were a babe.

  “I did everything I could,” Hadrian said softly. His voice sounded weak in the heavy silence.

  Korneli nodded. “I know.” He arranged Eldivo’s limbs so that he looked like he was sleeping; peace blanketed his features. Rising to his feet, he turned to me. “His last words were for Eloine.”

  I closed my eyes and struggled to hold back the tears.

  “I can deliver them,” Hadrian offered. “It is the least I could do.”

  “No.” I looked to Korneli in time to see him straighten his shoulders. “I was his mentor. He gave them to me and requested that I tell her.” He looked down at the shell that was once so full of life. “He had so much to live for.”

  Although Hadrian now stood so still, his face impassive, I could feel his raging emotions, primarily guilt. After the last few days of being in constant connection with him, it felt strange to not be involved in every nuance of his thoughts. However, I was thankful for the distance. We both needed time and space to sort out what had happened in this room. His brush with death brought up something in me that I wasn’t sure I was ready to face. I pushed the thought aside for later as the two men began to move about the room, checking on the status of the other prone bodies.

  * * *

  Chapter XVII

  Hadrian

  “What happened back there between you and Thrasius?” Korneli asked abruptly. We were finally on our way toward the meeting place to join a third of our army. Korneli rode the mount he had brought with him while Zezilia rode behind me on hers.

  “As best I can figure,” I replied, going over the events in my head. “I accidentally commisceo-linked with Thrasius in my attempt to disable his amoveo.” An action of anger that I regret, Almighty, I prayed.

  “So, when he…” Korneli prompted.

  “When he planted the satoconatus command with a suicide switch in Eldivo’s mind and triggered it, he doomed us both to die with Eldivo. What Thrasius didn’t realize was that he had partially commisceo-linked with Eldivo to gain control of his motions. So, there we were linked in a chain of partial commisceo links following Eldivo’s mind in its crazed self-destruction.”

  “What stopped it?” Zez asked. A strong emotion I had never felt from her before brushed past my Talent senses.

  “A heart attack,” Korneli answered to both of our surprise. “Thrasius showed all the signs. And, you did say that you were experiencing sharp pain in your chest, not a symptom of a suicide sato that we have come across to date.”

  I nodded. I had come so close to death. Only by the grace of God had I been spared.

  “Praise the Almighty,” Zez whispered. Her sending almost felt like a thought that had slipped between us. When we were this close—her arms around my waist for balance—it was almost as though we were still commisceo-linked. Her emotions fingered the edges of my consciousness, distractingly just out of reach. My sight was back to the restricted level I knew since childhood. My amoveo strength was significantly reduced. The dull ache of being only half of something that should be whole still lingered in the depths of my chest and the hidden regions of my mind. I was beginning to realize that I was most likely never going to feel completely whole again unless we were linked.

  “Branch,” Zez prompted. I followed her cue as we both ducked under a low hanging branch.

  “What about you?” I asked Korneli. “How did you know to come? And how did you know where we were?”

  Korneli cleared his throat uncomfortably and glanced at Zez. “We all suspected that you were planning something. You were distracted, preoccupied, and stingy with information. Always a sure sign.”

  “And here I thought that I was hiding it all,” I commented.

  “I sensed it too,” Zez offered.

  “Having Zez contact me should you try to run off on some personal mission was Selwyn’s idea.”

  I nodded. It sounded like Selwyn. “That doesn’t explain how you knew where to find us. Zez was following her commisceo-link with me and doesn’t know this area at all.”

  “You provided that.”

  I paused. I had? Then, I remembered the missive from Octavio. I had left it open on my desk, a foolish move. “I didn’t want anyone to become involved, at least no more than absolutely necessary.”

  “Ilias,” Korneli protested. “We are involved. I don’t know why you can’t seem to get it through your thick skull. We are all involved in everything you do.”

  I had a feeling that if I were close enough, he would have slapped the side of my head. I nudged our horse a bit farther from his.

  “You are the sept son. The whole country is connected to your actions. And, more importantly, Zez, Selwyn, Errol, myself, and hordes of others are connected to you because we care about you. Do you think no one would grieve for you when you are gone? Open your eyes, Ilias. You are loved. You are a part of many families. It is about time you stop trying to take on the world by yourself and ask for help.”

  I could feel my shoulders sagging beneath the truth of his words. Even in my efforts to overcome my pride, I was building it. Father, I was wrong. Please forgive me.

  Zez’s free hand rested against my back, a simple gesture of comfort.

  “I am sorry to cause you all so much trouble.”

  Korneli brushed the apology away with his hand.

  We rode in silence for a while before Zez asked, “How were things going when you left?”

  Korneli took a moment to pull out of his thoughts. “As planned. Selwyn and the extraction force left three hours before dawn. Errol, Plantonio, and the legions left two hours after that. My force left with them. We had just received news that the meeting camps had been established and would be ready when they were needed. We lost track of the mesitas’ army, but we weren’t really concerned about that.”

  “So, we can only pray that everything went well,” Zez observed.

  * * *

  Zezilia

  Hadrian continued to struggle. As each hour passed a violent emotional storm raged in the saddle in front of me. I tried to ignore him as I dealt with issues of my own.

  The fears that gripped me when I realized that Hadrian was dying frightened me. I wasn’t sure if it was from the feelings that remained after the commisceo link or if they grew from my own heart. I knew I cared for him deeply. He needed me. He had told me as much. I discovered that I liked being needed after being considered a useless child.

  I looked up at the back of his head. The remnant of the commisceo link continued to confuse me, undermining my trust of my own emotions. A part of me yearned to be joined with his mind again. It missed the warm, rich presence lingering at the back of my consciousness. I longed to be able to have that constant knowledge that he was there. I wanted to be able to communicate with only a thought.

  Abruptly bringing up my chin, I reigned in my thoughts. It wasn’t my choice. As much as I longed for those things, now was not the time. There were other more pressing matters at hand. I peered over Hadrian’s shoulder toward
the next break in the trees and straightened more. Something glinted in the sunlight just beyond the edge of the shadows.

  “What is that sound?” I asked.

  * * *

  Hadrian

  As the words left her lips, a dull roar reached our ears.

  “If I am not mistaken, it is not a sound we want to hear right now.” Korneli drew his ferrum as his personal energy shield materialized around his horse. Not a second later, Zezilia’s green curtained us. I reinforced it with my own, not that she needed any help.

  “What is it?” Zez asked me again.

  Korneli urged his mount forward toward the growing gap in the brush ahead. The harsh clear sound of a horn blowing a charge rippled through the growing roar of thousands of voices. Korneli reached the opening ahead and wheeled his horse around.

  “Take cover,” he sent, “We are behind enemy lines.”

  * * *

  Zezilia

  The horse reared suddenly, and I grabbed Hadrian’s waist with both arms, pressing my face into his back and praying he would keep his seat. Our mount righted with a jarring thud, stamping his protest at whatever startled him, but the chaos was only beginning. The ground still shook with the thunder of thousands of hooves, and the deafening cry of thousands of men filled the trees, shuddering the branches and leaves.

  The muscles in Hadrian’s back tightened against my cheek. He worked to hold our mount in check while Korneli continued to try to calm his own stallion. The sounds of the horses’ protests drowned the cacophony beyond our shelter.

  “We have stumbled onto a battle.” Korneli’s distraction with his horse made his sending weak.

  “We aren’t exactly armed for an assault.” Hadrian’s sending in reply to Korneli’s made me realize that Korneli had spoken to both of us. “I didn’t know that we were planning to meet them here.”

  Korneli replied, but I didn’t catch what he said because he hadn’t included me this time. My frustration must have spilled over to Hadrian because he replied, “We should withdraw. We need to confer before we decide what to do.”

  Korneli spurred his horse back the way we had come, and Hadrian followed. It was hard to maintain my energy shield as we jolted and jarred our way through whipping branches, but I did until the moment I accidentally bit my tongue as our stallion hurdled a fallen log. The warm metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, but I didn’t dare spit it out yet. Finally, after charging recklessly through the underbrush, barely missing trees, we slowed to a stop.

  “What is the enemy line doing here?” Hadrian asked Korneli.

  Taking advantage of the lull, I leaned over and spat out the mouthful of blood. Hadrian immediately swung around and grabbed my arm.

  “Zez?” His concern hit me like a wall. I looked up to find alarm whitening his face, and beyond him, Korneli’s eyes growing round with concern. “Are you hurt?”

  “I bit…” I started to explain, but then winced at the movement that the words required. “I bit my tongue coming out of the jump.”

  “She bit her tongue,” Hadrian explained to Korneli. “You had best get down so I can look at it.” He shifted his grip on my arm and helped me to the ground.

  “At least it wasn’t an arrow,” Korneli said.

  “There were archers?” Hadrian asked, swinging down beside me as soon as I stood clear. Without releasing the reins, he turned to me. “Open your mouth,” he ordered. I obeyed, offering my tongue for inspection. The pain intensified in the sudden change in temperature. His continued worry surrounded me, despite our lack of sending. It must have been because of our physical proximity as he touched the sides of my face to tilt my head so he could see.

  “I didn’t see any, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t,” Korneli said, answering Hadrian’s previous question. “Our men know what they are doing. They will defend the camp.”

  Hadrian indicated that I could close my mouth. “A small cut. You should probably rinse it out with water.”

  He reached around me to fetch the waterskin I had stowed in the saddlebag. My senses filled with the scents of him, and all I wanted was to bury my face in his chest and be held. My cheeks flamed with heat as I swiftly pushed the notion away from my thoughts. But when I finally looked up, I found Hadrian looking down at me. His dark eyes studied my face. Thoughts raced through their depths, none of them reaching the rest of his face. Then he blinked, and they were gone.

  “How far are we from the recovery camp?” he asked Korneli as he handed me the water skin.

  “That battle,” Korneli motioned toward the dull roar still going on behind us, “is between us and it.”

  Hadrian nodded. “I suspect our best bet is still to try to reach it. What do you think?”

  “We could try going around the fray,” Korneli suggested. “It would be risky, but we could do it.”

  “We should at least attempt to reach our lines,” Hadrian agreed. “For safety, Zez and I should commisceo. It will heighten our Talent-senses and help us defend ourselves should we be attacked.”

  Korneli frowned and glanced between us. “That is probably true.”

  “Are you willing?” Hadrian asked me.

  “I am.” I was frighteningly eager.

  Within moments, Hadrian’s warm, rich essence filled the void in the back of my consciousness. I felt strangely complete and exhilarated. I sensed echoing emotions in Hadrian, laced with a strange new emotion. I couldn’t name it, but it still shadowed his dark brown eyes, lingering in their depths, when I turned to tell him I was ready.

  We mounted. Korneli took the lead, ferrum in hand, turning northwest and forging a new trail through the heavy underbrush. Hadrian devoted both hands to the reins while I kept my right hand on my ferrum hilt, left arm loosely around his waist, and energy shield erected around us and our mount.

  * * *

  Hadrian

  Every inch of her thin frame hummed with battle readiness, her mind occupied with listening and watching for the enemy. Yet, I could still detect that small cord of joy woven through her tension. She felt the need as well. It was like a drug to which we were both now completely hooked. We needed each other to feel whole. Without her mint lacing through the back of my mind, I was half of what I could be. I had never known how it felt to be complete, but now that I had, my lone self was inadequate, empty, somehow not enough anymore. When the commisceo was gone, I hungered for it to return, for her to be there sharing her and me. The intensity scared me. What does it mean, Almighty?

  I didn’t know that answer. Until I did, indulging the impulse would be foolish. This would be the last commisceo. The last one until I found an answer to my prayer. I couldn’t risk it. With each linking, the desire to be linked increased. It might be too late already, but I still had the hope that with time, the desire for her taste and presence would decrease.

  We passed the edge of the forest, riding into rough meadows and sparser foliage than the dense trees behind us.

  Korenli’s nutty taste flitted across my tongue. “I see the trail to the camp up ahead. We seem to be past the battlefield. I wouldn’t lower your guard yet, though.”

  “How far?”

  “Only a mile or two. Our troops were incredibly foolish to stage an altercation this close.”

  “Perhaps they didn’t have a choice,” Zez offered.

  “True,” Korneli admitted. “I hope that they are successful in holding the forces off. The camp should be full of women and children by now, hardly capable of defending themselves.”

  “Elitist women and children,” I reminded Korneli. “The mesitas’ men have been angered against the Elitists so much they might, should they break through our lines, try to take revenge on the families of the men they fear.”

  “I pray it does not come to that.” Korneli straightened suddenly in the saddle. In the failing light, a small movement caught my eye as well. “Did you see that?”

  “Aye,” I responded.

  “I am going to investigate.” Korneli kneed h
is horse into a trot.

  “We are right behind you.”

  Upon reaching the place we had both spotted the movement, Korneli dismounted and climbed over a fallen tree to investigate. He reappeared just as our horse stopped next to his.

  “Waz yar problem, mister?” a young male voice inquired loudly. “I’s done nothin’ worth apprehen’ng.” The source, a boy of perhaps nine, was struggling violently against Korneli’s grip on his upper arm.

  “Looting bodies is hardly harmless, young man,” Korneli replied. “Besides, a child like you shouldn’t be near a battlefield alone.”

  “I’s not loot’n no bodies. I’s no child neither.” The boy drew himself to his full scrawny height, a good two feet short of Korneli, and tried to straighten his grubby tunic. “I’s also don’t call this a battlefield.”

  “Where did you come from?” I asked. Zezilia was shifting behind me, trying to see Korneli’s captive.

  “That camp over there,” the boy replied with a casual shrug. “Me mum is having another babe, and they’s sent me for wader.”

  “The water source is on the other side of camp,” I informed him sternly. He grimaced up at me in the dim light.

  “How’s I suppose to know that?” he retorted.

  “Come,” Korneli tugged on the boy’s arm. “We will go fetch that water together. I don’t suppose you have a vessel to carry it in?”

  “I do so,” the boy protested. “I left it yonder where’s you nabbed me.”

  “Show me.” “I will meet you in camp,” Korneli sent as he followed the boy’s directions into the brush.

  I turned the horse’s head in the direction the boy had indicated. A cluster of eerily pale lumps in the last hazy dimness of twilight which might turn out to be tents.