by Toni Cox
Maia had been introduced to a few of the Dragon Handlers when they arrived that morning and taken to see the roosts. The dragons clamoured to get closer; hopping from one perch to another, shoving each other, biting; sensing her nearness and knowing who she was. The cacophony of clacking and screeching was almost overwhelming. The Handlers tried to restore order, but Maia had to step in at the end.
Knowing that Midnight was close, she had sent him a mental plea and almost immediately, the dragons settled down. She was unsure exactly how Midnight communicated with the other dragons, but they were calmer and quiet. They still shoved each other from time to time, clamouring for her attention, and she made sure that she went to touch every one of them.
“You really do have a touch for dragons,” Evan said, brushing his light brown hair back from his face.
After they had seen the roosts, Evan took her to where they were now; the hatchling paddocks. They were further into the forest, away from the adults. Strange structures had been erected between trees and rocks and hatchlings were climbing all over them, honing their skills and strength and testing their wing muscles.
“We still fly patrols every night, watching over the herds,” Evan said.
Riker stood close to Maia, leaning on a railing, watching the hatchlings. Rothea, two other members of the Regiment and a Scout had also accompanied them, but only Rothea and Lagoras, the Scout, were with them at the hatchling paddocks. The others were about half a mile down the road, holding the horses.
“Vampyre activity in the area has been minimal until fairly recently. Two Moons ago one of the Herders was found dead. The ravens had been at him, so it was difficult to tell how he died. Since then we had three other attacks, all with casualties.”
Evan was silent for a moment. Maia sensed his grief and she laid a hand on his.
“Last night, and the night before, some of our livestock were killed. They were classic Vampyre kills, bite marks and no blood. They did not take the meat. No one knows where the Vampyres went. They might still be in the vicinity. Also, the Herders say that a wolf came to investigate the kills, but did not touch the meat. He probably ran off when he saw the Vampyres.”
“We saw a wolf in the city last night,” Rothea added to the conversation.
“In the city?” Evan asked.
“Yes. Lady Maia wanted to see to her stallion, so we went to the stables. While her Ladyship was inside, we heard a howl, growling and what sounded like a scuffle. When we went to investigate, we almost ran into the beast. When he saw us, he fled. We looked around for him, but he was gone. Elgar, the Horse Master on duty last night, reported it to the Guard this morning.”
“These are strange happenings indeed. Night Watch has been doubled since you arrived, Lady Maia, and yet these things occur right under our noses. Some of my best men were flying patrols these past few nights and they reported no sightings. These are dangerous times we live in.”
Maia bit her lip. She had to hold on to the railing in front of her to stop her hands from shaking. Just when she thought things might be going better, the guilt hit her with renewed force. Why had she not been able to read her dreams, teamed up with Blaid sooner, stopped the war before it began? She could not shake the feeling that it could have been prevented, but for her ineptitude. And now she also felt that her presence here had brought more danger to these people.
“My Lady,” Riker whispered in her ear, and laid his arm across her shoulder.
She briefly looked up at him, his dark eyes full of concern, and then, without thinking, she turned within his arms and clung to his chest, seeking the safety of his embrace.
Evan and Rothea stopped talking and after a moment slowly walking away.
Somewhere deep in the forest Midnight felt her emotions and reached out with his mind. Quickly he assessed the situation and then sent her images of calm, blue waters, as well as his strong approval. Maia wondered at first why Midnight would have chosen such images to calm her, or why he would approve. As she relaxed into Riker’s strong embrace, calm settled over her and she realised what the images meant. Calm-Blue-Waters is Riker, she sent the thought to Midnight. She felt his mental nod.
She stood with Riker for a moment longer, unwilling to let go of the feeling of safety. What Midnight had shown her was all too possible and too easy to accomplish. The thought frightened her. Could she just walk away from her experiences with Blaid and into the arms of another? Was she even sure she would never see him again? She trusted her dragon and if Midnight thought that highly of Riker, then maybe it was time Maia took a closer look at him. She took one last, deep breath, savouring his smell, before she let go of him. He released her reluctantly and held onto her hand for a moment longer. The depth of feeling she saw in his eyes startled her. She did not have to open herself to his Eläm to know what he was feeling.
“We should get back to the city, it will be safer there,” he said.
Riker took off his coat and hung it over her shoulders. She had not realised she was shivering. He laid his arm across her shoulder again and led her down the path towards the horses. Evan and Rothea followed quietly. They mounted their horses and rode back to the city.
The day of the feast dawned bright and warm. Lord Skylor Hazelwatch had warned that the festivities would begin during the morning hours; the whole city would partake and various acts of entertainment had been planned. She selected the white dress, the one Jasmin told her to take, and was surprised to find that she was excited as she stepped out of her room. Arahael had done up her hair for her. It looked pretty.
Rothea greeted her at the door and accompanied her down to the dining room. All but those on duty were already gathered for their morning tea. She looked around the room, nodded to Baltor Owen, the Elder she would be sitting with today, greeted the nobles and Commander Ridgewell, and then her eyes fell on Riker. He was looking at her from across the room, standing tall and straight next to the table laid out for them. He was resplendent in his full Guard uniform; his buckles polished to a shine, the bits of overlapping metal on his body armour glinting in the light coming through the window, and his full array of weapons hung about him.
Rothea quietly cleared her throat behind her and Maia realised she was staring. She blushed and hoped no one but Rothea had noticed. Quickly she crossed the floor and let Riker pull the chair out for her. Rothea settled at the next table, seated to see any request from Maia without turning.
“You look beautiful this morning,” Riker said softly as he took his own chair.
Maia smiled shyly at the compliment, and nodded to the Server who brought them their tea.
Once the Server left, she looked at Riker with a mischievous smile on her face.
He looked back at her questioningly.
“You are also very handsome this morning, My Lord,” she said, putting special emphasis on the word Lord.
Riker blinked a few times, trying to understand what she was saying. Maia smiled. She had never liked it when she was singled out as better than other people, and she was quite happy for everyone to call her by her name. Strangely, she had become accustomed to Riker calling her My Lady, and now that he had omitted it, she realised she liked him calling her that.
“My Lady,” he said hastily. “I am sorry, please forgive me my negligence.”
He reached across the table and took her hand in his. She considered pulling her hand away, but then let him hold it. She looked up into his eyes and, although his words were spoken as an earnest plea, she could see the playfulness in his eyes. He had picked up on her mood perfectly.
“I have begged Lord Hazelwatch for a seat by your side for the festivities today,” he said without letting go of her hand. “Elder Owen will be seated to your right, as befits his rank. I am given the seat to your left, if it pleases My Lady.”
He was now absentmindedly stroking his thumb across the back of her hand. His touch felt good, but she cast some inconspicuous glances around the room. No one seemed to be paying them any att
ention. Tradition demanded that if a man wanted to court a young woman, he would have to ask permission first of the parents. This was especially true for those noble born, or in her case, of royalty.
She decided not to let it bother her today; they had not done anything to break decorum and today was a day for the people of Thala Yll. She would be their princess and she would enjoy the day with them.
After their morning tea, the delegation was led to the large plaza in front of the Grand Hall. Grandstands had been set up surrounding the square and a special stand had been erected on the steps of the Grand Hall. The upper tier of this stand was strictly reserved for Maia and her two attendants. The second tier from the top was for Lord Hazelwatch and his family and the bottom three tiers were allocated to the few Nobles of Shadow Hall, as well as the Nobility of Thala Yll.
And so, the festivities began. They were served small portions of a variety of foods and drinks through the day. Only during the evening hours did they bring out the wine; this time Maia abstained, afraid it might leave her unable to think clearly.
The people of Thala Yll had chosen a vast variety of performances; stage plays, songs, poems and dances, various forms of art, from painting to weaving, games of chance and games of skill, jousting, archery, pigeon racing, horse racing and one event even featured a dragon.
On numerous occasions did Maia rise to wave to a winner, and sometimes she even descended the steps to present a kiss or a kind word or to pat the winning animal. The people loved her engagement in the festivities and every time she rose from her chair or simply waved, the crowd erupted into cheers. She was having so much fun, enjoying the glowing Life-Forces of happiness around her, that she hardly noticed that, more often than not, Riker held her hand.
He could not stay, he knew that. Yet he could not leave without seeing her before he left. He had entered the city during the early hours of the morning. Some people were already up, making final arrangements for the feast. Sneaking into someone’s home unseen, he borrowed some clothes. He had left his clothes in a small cave close to the border of Bron, where he had changed into his wolf form to begin the pursuit of the three Vampyres he had killed here in this city.
He now mingled with the crowd, being pushed along with the flow towards the grandstands. He kept the hood of his jacket pulled deep over his head; he could not afford to be recognised. When the crowd eventually calmed and everyone found their seats, he settled himself on a tier slightly higher than Maia’s and about a hundred strides away. He had a clear view of her and spent most of the day simply watching her. The festivities around him were of no interest to him. Maia, on the other hand, commanded all his attention.
She wore a plain white dress, adorned with tiny blue gems that sparkled in the sunlight. It must have been of an extraordinarily soft fabric, because he noticed it slid over her skin with every movement she made. Her hair, which usually hung loose down her back, was piled in a mess of soft curls on her head, fastened with silver clips fashioned in the shape of flowers and adorned with the same tiny blue gems as those of her dress. Watching her took his breath away. He wished he could let her know he was there, but revealing his Eläm so she would feel him, would alert the people around him to who he was. It would frighten them and might even cause a panic. He was who he was and there was no changing that. He had accepted his fate a long time ago and made peace with it.
As the day wore on and he watched, he began to notice her behaviour towards the Guard who seemed to be her companion for the journey. There was an easy laughter between them now and the Guard initiated physical contact with her throughout the day; small touches on the arm, helping her to her feet or guiding her down the stairs, holding her hand during tense moments of a game or race. The more he watched, the harder it was for him. Had she given up on him? They belonged together, surely she could see that. He knew, of course, what the histories said and what the law dictated, but he felt incomplete without her. Had she maybe been told to find a more suitable life partner? Was this journey they were on supposed to bring them together?
He felt his mind cloud over with anger and disappointment. He struggled to control his Eläm and more than once people around him looked about, searching for the one casting such dark thoughts. He struggled through the crowd; pushing his way down the tiers and onto the plaza. Running through the empty streets, he ripped off his clothes and dropped them carelessly to the floor.
Once he had struggled out of his borrowed boots and pants, he changed and ran over the fields as fast as his four legs could carry him. He did not know where he was going; all he knew was that he had to get away.
She sat at a desk in front of the window of her room. She had been staring at the blank piece of paper for the better part of the day, but the words were eluding her. The memorial service for the fallen warriors was tomorrow and she still had not written, nor memorized, her speech. She loved the people, she felt their loss as her own, and she had no problem consoling someone if she was with them and in physical contact with them. To speak to and console an entire city seemed a daunting task to her. She had never done this before. Back in Shadow Hall, she had asked Silas to accompany her, but he said tat she was old enough now for these responsibilities and that, as princess of Grildor, it was her duty to serve her people.
She understood this, but it did not make it any easier. She had called Rothea to sit with her in her room. They had talked for a while, discussing the matter, but in the end her page remained blank.
As the sun set that evening, Riker knocked on her door and Rothea got up to admit him. She poured him tea, and then tactfully retreated to her own quarters.
“Will you not join me for supper, My Lady?” he asked as he settled on the bench beside her, sipping his tea.
“I have no appetite for food, Riker. And obviously, no talent for words,” she sighed.
Riker put his cup on the desk and took the paper she had been staring at all day and crumpled it up.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
“You do not need this, Maia,” he said seriously, using her name. “What you have to say to these people does not come from your head, it comes from your heart, and such cannot be committed to parchment.
The march to the Burial Grounds in the forest took them almost four hours to complete. One hundred and ninety-eight families lost loved ones during the war, but it was the entire city of Thala Yll that took part in the march and the sight of thousands of people, walking with their colourful lanterns of mourning, was breathtaking.
Their voices, combined in their sorrow, made music of their mourning hymns, such as Maia had never heard before. It squeezed her heart and brought tears to her eyes long before they reached the forest. She had her arm hooked through Riker’s, for which she was glad, as she could not see for the tears clouding her vision.
Her Elemental senses tingled intensely, picking up on the sadness of the people and something changed within her that would define her for the rest of her life. She suddenly realised, the attacks had not been her fault, but had been the malicious plans of evil folk. She could not have prevented it, even if she had heeded her initial dreams. Her part in this was simple; defeat the enemy when the time came, and console and comfort her people when they needed her. By the time they reached the grave markers, she felt calm and strong, knowing wherein lay her strengths and what she needed to do.
“People of Thala Yll.”
She stood on a raised dais, overlooking the crowd. Lord Hazelwatch had led the people in a prayer to the Mother and now it was Maia’s turn to speak. She looked down at the expectant faces of the men, women, and children before her; saw their hope and admiration in their eyes; and she knew what she needed to say.
“A challenge of unimaginable proportions has been set before us; a blight on our wonderful world that seeks to destroy us. Each one of us will be faced with difficulties that at times may seem too much to bear, but I say no, we will not be cowed and we will not be defeated. We will avenge our fallen so w
e can forever remember them with pride in our hearts. We will stand together; because together we are strong; and as I stand before you today, so will I stand beside you when we go into battle with the enemy. They shall tremble in fear as they behold the power of the Mother and remember forever the devastation Life can bestow on them. Today, we sing songs of farewell to our fallen, but tomorrow we will sing songs of victory!”
Her voice had risen to an almost fever pitch at the end, and when she had spoken the last word there was a moment of absolute stillness and then the crowd erupted in cheers. Some yelled “May thee be blessed” and one by one, the people repeated the phrase until almost three thousand voices were chanting it over and over.
Maia stood on the dais; tears running down her cheeks, her body tense with emotion; and a sense of fulfilment overcame her that overshadowed all the Moons of self-doubt. She suddenly knew what her purpose was and she was determined to fulfil her destiny.
They made camp on the slopes of Mt. Argon, the last peak that made up the ridge that divided the Grildor-Bron Mountains from the plains beyond. They left Tarron Heights five days ago, and by riding from sunup to sundown every day, they made good time through the mountainous terrain. The weather had been fair; ideal travelling conditions; and once past the last peak, travelling conditions would improve. Yet this afternoon a wind swept down from the peak, sweeping icy temperatures off the snowfields.
His men did not complain, but Jaik ordered them to make camp two hours before sundown. They hobbled their horses in the lee of a large boulder and covered them in blankets. Then the men gathered firewood and built two fires; one close to the horses to ward off predators, the other within the circle of their tents to keep them warm and to cook their food.