Honor and Blood

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Honor and Blood Page 116

by James Galloway


  "But I'm naked, Dory!"

  "We all are, you goose!" he shouted at her.

  Torrians! What were Torrians doing wandering the ruins of the city with no clothes on? It was ludicrous! It was ridiculous! It was impossible! The Torrians were all dead, he had killed them!

  The rumors of their demise is greatly exaggerated, the voice of the Goddess rang within him, and from the sound of her, she was almost exultant.

  "Mother!" he gasped. "I, I don't understand! What's going on?"

  Kitten, you didn't kill the Torrians, she said immediately. They were granted...protection, from the power of your spell. As you can see, it did little for their wardrobes, but they are all well and whole. And after all, that is all that matters, isn't it?

  That news hit him like a hammer, making him flinch and blink. The Torrians weren't dead? None of them? How did that happen? He saw the devastation. He had wandered the streets in a daze, and he was certain he saw nobody milling around out in the firestorm.

  No, you saw no one before, because they were still being protected, the Goddess said delicately. The fire had to be extinguished before they could be released.

  The relief that suddenly flowed through him was too unbelievably overwhelming for mere words to describe. A sigh that summed up his entire feeling about the matter escaped him, and he flopped back down onto the ash, putting the back of his paw over his eyes. "How did it happen?" he managed to ask.

  That is not your concern, kitten, the Goddess told him primly. And I'm not going to tell you. But I do want to tell you that this kind of intervention does not come easily, nor will it happen again. Remember that the next time you decide to burn down a city.

  Her tone made it sound like she was terribly displeased with him, and it made his entire being shiver. Ways to make it up to her, redeem himself in her eyes, the only eyes that mattered to him, began to fly through him like dust in a tornado.

  Calmly, my kitten, she soothed. I'm not angry with you at all. In fact, I'm quite proud of you for what you did here tonight.

  "Proud?" he gasped, sitting straight up in an instant.

  Of course I'm proud, she replied easily. You were forced to make a terrible decision. To weigh your own feelings and needs against the cruel burden of necessity. But despite knowing what it would cost you, you chose to protect me rather than succumb to your desperate desire not to carry through with it. You were willing to sacrifice everything for me, kitten. You were willing to do something that every fiber of your being cried for you not to do. Don't you understand how that makes me feel? How proud I am of you, how much it makes you special to me?

  He couldn't say anything. He only closed his eyes and bowed his head. "The Dals?"

  All who called you enemy are dead, she told him fiercely. They were not protected from your wrath. I know even that will weigh on you, but remember who they were and what they were trying to do. And remember how the Cat feels about enemies.

  "Dead enemies are the best enemies," he said immediately. She was right, the deaths of so many did concern him, make him feel somewhat guilty, but they had all been enemies. Enemies meant nothing to him after they were dead. He felt unsure as to how killing so many would affect him, but he knew right then and there that he had no moral compunction to punish himself for killing Dals and ki'zadun. They were trying to kill him, kill his daughter, kill his Goddess, and that made them not worth a moment's concern.

  And then again, there was the destruction of Torrian. If all the citizens were indeed alive, then they had less than nothing. Not even clothes. Tarrin's spell had utterly devastated the entire city, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. He looked over to the three humans, where the female had finally gotten over her bout of modesty to help the male pull the child out from under the blackened post. They had nothing. No home, no possessions, no food, not even clothes. He had deprived them of everything but their lives.

  Tarrin somehow struggled to his feet and stumbled over towards them in a discordant gait. They gasped and shrank back from him when they realized he was there, saw him as they leaned over their backs to look at the child. It looked like a female child, about ten or so, with her legs pinned under a short, blocky stone post that was blackened from the fire. He reached down without a word and grabbed that stone, then struggled as he picked it up enough for the little girl to squirm her way free. Once she was out, he dropped the stone immediately and dropped to one knee, panting from the exertion of it. Had he been whole, he could have picked up that stone with one paw and thrown it a good ten spans. The little girl, a cute little female with blond hair and blue eyes and adorable cheeks that reminded him of his own daughter, stared up at him in innocent wonder.

  "Th-Thank you, your honor," the man said in an uncertain voice. "I couldn't lift it."

  "I almost couldn't," he said with a wheeze. "How did you come to be here, goodman?" Tarrin asked the male, looking up at him.

  "Well, your honor, I can't rightly remember," he admitted. "The last thing I recall before waking up naked in this was hiding in our bedroom as the men quartered in our house ran out. Can you tell us what in the blazes happened?"

  "The short of it is that the Dals were destroyed," Tarrin said. "Unfortunately, they took the city with them."

  "It was worth it to get those damned stoneheads off our land," the man spat.

  Tarrin glanced at the male, seeing his nudity. Were he rested, he could have Conjured the man some clothes, but to even try in the state he was in would be fatal, and he knew it. If he couldn't find the strength to stand, then there was no way he could handle using Druidic magic. But somehow, he did manage to get back to his feet, though his knees trembled and threatened to unlock at any moment.

  "Something like that," he told her, standing fully erect despite the fact that he didn't have the energy to remain so very long, and looking out over the blasted wasteland. "The Rangers should be in the city by now," he surmised. "If the fires have stopped all over, and they've seen the survivors, they should be in the city finding them. We need to get you to them."

  "Papa!" he heard from behind. Tarrin whirled in time to see Jasana break free from her mother and run towards him. Jesmind rushed up behind her. The turn had unlocked his knees, and he found himself dropping to them on the ground, just in time for Jasana to jump into him and hug him fiercely about the neck. He nuzzled his daughter lovingly, smelling the ash and soot on her, marring her usually wonderful scent, smelling her worry and fear all over her. Jesmind reached him an instant later, putting her paws on his shoulder, on his back, hugging him, then going over him with her paws to make sure he was whole. It was almost amusing, watching her try to inspect, hug, kiss, and glare at him all at the same time. Were he not so tired, he would have laughed.

  "What's the matter, papa?" Jasana asked immediately.

  "It's alright, cub," he said soothingly. "I'm alright."

  "Tarrin, I was so worried," Jesmind said breahtlessly, kissing him repeatedly as she pushed Jasana to one side, leaning against him. "We saw you go back into the fire, and I almost died when I saw the look on your face."

  "It's alright now," he said, glancing towards the three humans, who were watching on in surprise. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, that's all."

  "How did they manage to live through that?" Jesmind demanded. "They could probably see the flames in Aldreth!"

  "The--the townsfolk were immune to the spell," he said weakly, uncertain how Jesmind or the Torrians who no doubt were listening would take it if he started talking about how a god talked to him. "It didn't hurt them."

  "Why did you do it?" Jesmind asked quickly. "Why? There was a plan!"

  "They knew the plan," he said grimly. "And they had many more men here than Arren thought. If I'd have allowed the army to attack the city, they would have been slaughtered. It was the only thing I could do to save the men outside," he sighed forlornly. He looked back to the humans. "We need to--"

  "You need to do nothing!" Jesmind shouted at him. "You've done e
nough tonight, Tarrin Kael! Look at you! You look half dead! Right now, you're coming back with me, and I'm going to give you something to eat, and then you're going to get some rest. And never scare me like this again!" she screamed at him. Then she hugged him fiercely.

  That was Jesmind. Didn't give a flip for the men he'd killed or the destruction he'd wrought. Her only concern was him.

  "Jesmind--"

  "Jesmind nothing!" she snapped, cutting him off. "You're going to obey me, or I'm going to drag your sorry butt back to the camp by your tail!"

  "You may have to," he said, drooping against her. "I, I don't think I can walk right now."

  She looked at him in surprise, her eyes softening immediately. "What's the matter?" she asked in concern, putting a paw on his face gently.

  "I'm tired, Jesmind," he sighed. "It took everything I had to do what I did. I just don't have any more strength. Not even to walk."

  "Then I'll carry you," she said firmly.

  "I'm too big for you to carry."

  "The day I can't lift something as light as you is the day I call myself a human," she snorted, standing up. "Watch out, cub, I need to pick him up," she told Jasana, who was still clinging to his neck. She let go silently, staring up at him with teary-eyed concern, and then Jesmind scooped him up with one paw under his legs and the other under his back. He sagged in her grasp, nothing but dead weight to her. Even his tail dangled limply under him. "Jasana, grab your father's tail and throw it over his legs. I don't want to trip over it," she ordered crisply.

  "Yes, mama," Jasana complied, grabbing his tail and tucking it up around his leg carefully.

  "Well, come on," Jesmind said, looking at the surprised humans. "I'll take you three to the Sulasian Rangers. They're gathering all the survivors so they can get some food and clothes for you."

  "I appreciate that, madam," the man, Dory, said sincerely. "I think if my wife turns any more red, she's going to start bleeding out of her cheeks."

  "Dory!" the woman gasped.

  "Sorry, dove, but I can't help but find it funny," he grinned at her. "About right now, finding something to laugh about is about the only thing we can do."

  "Humans," Jesmind snorted. "Come on, then. We're going this way."

  Tarrin had never been carried quite like that before, and he found it to be strangely secure. To be carried in his mate's arms like that, to have her scent wash over him, it filled him with a strange sense of peace. Jesmind's scent had always stirred feelings of safety and security in him, a residual effect from the time when she was his bond-mother, and it could still invoke those feelings, even after all that time apart. He let his head rest against her shoulder, letting her be the one to protect him, carry him somewhere safe, where he could rest.

  It wasn't very comfortable in her arms, but he was tired. Her scent made him feel secure, and his weariness was a force that could not be challenged inside him. Tarrin succumbed to the combination of those things, and felt himself slide down into sleep.

  It was the sound of rain that awoke him. It pattered steadily against canvas, the canvas roof of the tent, the tent in which he was placed. He climbed back into coherence easily, his nose making out the scents of Kimmie and Jasana, and he felt Jasana laying against him. He took a mental stock of himself in those first moments. He still felt tired, but it was nothing compared to the utter exhaustion he had felt, an exhaustion so severe that it caused him to fall asleep in Jesmind's arms. He was absolutely starving, too. Judging by how he felt, it was the day after that eventful night. It had to be day, by the amount of light present inside the tent. When he stirred, he heard instant activity. The sound of flapping canvas, then Kimmie's voice. "He's waking up!" she called hastily.

  "Papa? Are you awake, papa?" Jasana called urgently, pushing at his shoulder with her paws.

  "I am now, cub," he grunted, opening his eyes and struggling to sit up. Jasana climbed up into his lap and put her arms around his neck, hugging herself to him. Why was she being so...affectionate? From what he remembered, from the moment she'd found him, she'd had her paws around him. It wasn't that he didn't like it, it was just that it wasn't normal. Not for her. She was a very tactile child, always liking to touch people, but this was a bit extreme, even for her. "I'm alright, Jasana," he told her directly, putting an arm around her, then pulling her loose of her grip. "See?"

  She smiled at him, a gloriously happy smile, then went right back to hugging him about the neck, putting her head against his shoulder.

  "Don't fight her, Tarrin," Kimmie told him with a chuckle. She was sitting by the tent flap, with a book in her lap, a strange book that was bound with some kind of leather that Tarrin had never scented before. "She's not going to let go of you for a while."

  "I see that," he replied, sitting up fully and pulling is legs in. "Where are we?"

  "A tent not far from the camp of the Rangers," she answered. "We thought it was best to give us some distance from the humans." She closed the book and set it aside. "You've been asleep all day."

  "What time of day is it?"

  "Coming on to sunset," she answered. "Things have been happening, Tarrin. Fae-da'Nar left at noon. Sathon wanted to wait for us, but when it became apparent that you needed days to recover, he gave up on it and started out with the others. Thean and me stayed behind," she smiled. "To help Jesmind watch over you and the cub."

  "They left?"

  "They had to," she nodded. "You know how tight the timing's going to be. They couldn't afford to wait. Not even for you."

  "I guess. Actually, that makes things a bit easier." He bounced Jasana a bit, putting a paw on her back and moving her so her knee was digging in to his more sensitive areas. "The only thing I'm going to have to explain to them now is how we got to Suld first."

  "I told Sathon that we were moving on to Suld. I told him we'd be there to greet him when he arrived, but I didn't say how," she grinned. "I think he suspects you know a way to use magic to get there fast, but I wouldn't tell him. He got pretty annoyed with me about it."

  "You know something, Kimmie? You're actually a mean little girl, do you know that?"

  "Of course. I am a Were-cat, after all," she said with a wicked little smile.

  Tarrin looked at her, then laughed.

  Jesmind blew through the tent flap right about then, kneeling by him so fast her knees skidded on the floor of the tent, putting a paw on his shoulder and inspecting him with her eyes. "Are you alright, my mate?" she asked intensely.

  "I'm fine," he said, yawning widely, showing his formidable canines. "Just a little tired yet, but that'll be gone by tomorrow. Why all this worry over me? If you've talked to mother, then you know that this is a normal side-effect of magical exhaustion."

  "Well, excuse me for caring," Jesmind said icily.

  "It's not just you. It's this, and her, and everything," Tarrin said, bouncing Jasana meaningfully. "What happened?" he asked. "Something had to happen to make you all act like this."

  Jesmind looked at Kimmie, who nodded. "Well, when you were using your magic in Torrian, it, well, it affected Jasana."

  "Really? What happened to her?" he asked curiously. He sat patiently as all three of them started babbling at once, then he calmed them down and had them tell him their impression of the events one at a time. Jesmind first, then Kimmie, then he heard what Jasana had to say.

  "And I felt you wrap yourself all up with magic," she was saying, getting into the core of the story after about ten minutes of talking about stones and books and where they were staying. "When I felt that, I felt it reach out and grab me. I did what you did when I did that to you, pushed myself away from it, but when that happened something else reached out and grabbed me, like the magic without anyone moving it. It scared me, but when it got me, I could feel you, so I didn't push it away right at first. I could feel what you were doing, and it scared me, cause I could feel how hard it was for you to do it. I was afraid it was going to hurt you. I wanted to try to make it stop, but I couldn't do it," she
said in a small voice, lowering her eyes. "The magic inside me was fighting with me. It didn't want to do what I was telling it to do, the way you tell it to do things. I never knew it misbehaved like that," she fretted. "It always does whatever you tell it to do, every time you tell it to do it. Why wouldn't it listen to me?"

  Tarrin looked at her, a bit perplexed by the way she described it. But hers was the mind of a child, and her manner of comprehending things was fundamentally different from an adult. The magic misbehaved? Oh, of course! She had pushed the magic away, then tried to use it. Since it reached out and grabbed her, that meant that she had been in touch with High Sorcery. And when she tried to use the power against him, since she had pushed it away, it meant that she didn't have the magic built up to do anything with it. Odds were, the weaves she tried to weave simply evaporated, being nothing but empty shells with no substance.

  Two things became clear to him. Firstly, that since Jasana was so much stronger than him, it gave her the actual ability to control High Sorcery, much better than he could when he had first struggled with it. Her power was so great that she could exact at least a modicum of control without being angry. He'd been very wrong about her. High Sorcery was still a danger, but it wasn't as great a danger for her as it had been for him. Her raw power allowed her to control it, so long as she didn't allow it to build up past her ability to control it. And second, since she had actually tried to weave a spell, that it would probably be best if he taught her what to do, before she accidentally burned down the forest. A Wildstrike coming from a Sorcerer of her caliber could be devastating to everything around her.

  "I think I understand, kitten," he assured her, scruffing her hair with his paw, flattening her ears in the process. "Why did it make you so upset, though?"

  "Because I felt how much it hurt you, inside," she said in a small voice. "You told me that you don't like doing things like that. I saw what it did to you to do it, papa. I really understand what you meant now."

  He looked down into those luminous eyes, then hugged her with exquisite tenderness. She had shared his pain. It hurt him to know that she had seen what it had cost him to make that decision, to actually carry through with it. But it, too, could be a good thing. Now that she understood what it could cost to kill so indiscriminately, perhaps it would teach her to be as responsible with her magic as he tried to be with his.

 

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