by Montana Ash
“Prove their worth?” Max repeated. “But not through a voting system.” It wasn’t a question. “More like the Paladin Trials then?”
Colt’s lips tightened, clearly not appreciating the comparison of paladins to wardens. He may not approve of Max or what had been wrought in their society due to her presence, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say so. Nor to ignore a direct question. He answered; “No. Not like the paladins. The Trials are in place to prove their strength, loyalty, and worth, and to determine the best fit for their future liege and Order. I am suggesting a mere display of power, to determine which wardens hold the most sway over their elements.”
“Oh,” Max scratched her chin. “More like the human Olympics? See which warden comes first, second, and third?”
Beyden saw Colt scowl and shift restlessly. He was getting impatient and clearly not used to being questioned. The guileless look on Max’s face was enough to satisfy most in the room that their treasured custodian was doing nothing more than asking innocent questions. When Beyden had first met Max he had believed her incapable of telling a lie. Her face was open and honest and her feelings easily read – or so they had all thought. Turns out, Max had the best poker face on the planet and could happily look you in the eye and lie, lie, lie. It was why he knew that his playful liege was messing with the stuck-up warden. Memory or no memory, she knew what Colt was getting at and she didn’t approve. She was doing her best to make him look like an arse without any of them outrightly saying so. She was a tricky little witch, even in her amnesiac state.
“No,” Colt gritted out. “Not like human entertainment. There would be no need for placings – simply one champion. The strongest.”
“Oh, I see. More like the Hunger Games,” Max nodded her head.
“The what?” Colt asked, clearly not understanding the reference to the human book series.
“It’s where one male and one female candidate from differing factions are chosen to complete various tasks and fight to the death in order to prove the victor,” Lark helpfully pointed out. He conveniently failed to mention the whole thing was fiction.
Colt’s eyes widened, “A fight to the death? I believe there has been enough death.”
Beyden was happy to hear that. The man might be eager to be in a position of power, but he wasn’t interested in more violence. He simply wanted to be on the new council and he wanted to show off on his way to the top.
“Well, if it’s about power, then a warden Hunger Games won’t be necessary,” Max told them. “I can see your powers like a second skin. Your beast vitality is quite strong, it’s true. But his is far stronger.”
Max pointed to a large, grizzled-looking man with a very impressive beard. Hyde was a reclusive warden with a single paladin. He had been posted in Alaska of all places and rarely left. Beyden had met him once years ago and had found him to be quiet but kind. For now, Hyde simply nodded in deference in Max’s direction, his right hand rising to cover his left bicep. The move was very telling; Hyde carried Max’s brand.
Colt looked extremely put out at being undermined, “Hyde is older, it’s true. But he has but one paladin to provide him with vitality. I assure you, my lady, that age alone does not equate to power.”
Nor does paladin number, Beyden thought silently. Historically, it was believed that the more paladins you had, the more vitality you could use and therefore the stronger that warden was. However, Beyden was very suspicious that was not the case. Not exclusively anyway. His friend, Caspian, only had two paladins and he was extremely powerful.
“The only way to prove who is the strongest would be a test as I have said,” Colt was concluding in pompous tones.
Actually, Beyden thought, Max had already said Hyde was the far superior warden in regard to his elemental powers. As a custodian and the daughter of Mother Nature, Max’s word really was more than enough. Going by the numerous sets of narrowed eyes and clenched jaws, many others thought so too. But Max was nothing if not fair.
“Okay, a compromise then. Everyone can nominate a warden from each domain. Everyone votes for said wardens, then the top three compete in a competition of sorts to see who the most powerful warden is. That warden will take one of the remaining places on the council. I say remaining because obviously no one is going to contest Blu or Mordecai. Or myself.”
“Of course not,” Colt demurred. “That sounds like a very workable compromise.”
Blu and Mordecai looked at each other, as well as Dawn, before nodding. “Looks like a consensus has been met that is agreeable with the majority present. Nominations can begin immediately. Ryker, your Order will be in charge of organising the event. We’ll discuss suitable dates and locations, but it will need to be a minimum of a few weeks in the future.”
Ryker looked like he had sucked on a lemon, but his response was a respectful nod in the affirmative. A well-pleased Colt finally went on his way and they were left to breathe a little easier.
“Well, my dear. I dare say you have scandalised the surviving wardens enough for one day with your talk of democracy,” Blu teased Max once they were alone. “But I can’t deny you have achieved more in ten minutes than we have in seven weeks. We have a plan to move forward now at least.”
Max grinned, “Not bad for faking it.”
They all laughed, tension receding, until Max opened her mouth again; “I guess I’ll save my suggestion about the paladins and the chadens for next time.”
“What about them?” Mordecai asked.
“Well, who is going to represent them?” Max queried.
Mordecai shook his head, “The paladins have never had representation on any council. And the chadens didn’t exist, so ...”
“Hmmm,” was Max’s non-response. But it spoke volumes to Beyden, and to most of those present too, for they began to look around, questions in their eyes.
“You believe a paladin and a chaden should have a position? Perhaps within the local councils?” Blu posed the question tactfully and respectfully.
Blu was smart, Beyden acknowledged. Though many looked at Max with stars in their eyes and would do anything she asked, these were still early days and change was a scary thing. It was going to be hard enough to get the nominations, voting, and mini-warden trials to succeed.
Thankfully, Max shook her head, seeming to pick up on the reticence of those listening. “No. I think the paladins should have their own council. The International Paladin Council. The IPC. Sounds good next to the IDC, don’t you think?”
Even her own Order turned to stare at her – which she pointedly ignored. Instead of expanding her statement further, Max murmured an ‘excuse me’ and headed toward a devastated, lonely-looking paladin. Beyden recognised Glenn, the only surviving member of Cinder’s Order. Seeing the absolute pain and desolation the solo paladin radiated, had shame bursting in Beyden’s chest. He looked down at the cane he was using and knew his life could have been worse. Much worse.
Max had the attention of the entire room as she walked over to the ruined man and placed a hand on his arm. “Just a moment. Your shoelace is undone. Don’t want you tripping over,” Max smiled up at Glenn before promptly dropping to her knees and tying the disbelieving paladin’s shoe.
The entire room seemed to suck in a harsh breath as they watched their goddess of the flesh kneel at the feet of a paladin, whom historically, would have been publicly shamed and excommunicated from the knighthood. Paladins should not outlive their lieges. Not ever. Beyden watched as Max smiled up at the poor knight and he felt tears prick his eyes.
“There she is,” Bey murmured, a mere whisper of sound, but he knew his family heard every word. “There’s our Max. Memory or no memory; that’s our Max. Goddess of the people.”
Glenn held out until Max stood once more and then he was breaking down, simply crumbling where he stood. Max didn’t hesitate, simply drawing him into her arms, whispering words of comfort, kindness and hope. The spectacle should have been awkward but it wasn’t. One simple act of h
umanity by their goddess had just achieved more than all her words of democracies and voting.
The people had hope once more.
Just as he was congratulating them all on an almost completely drama-free and exceedingly successful outing, a shadow moved in Beyden’s periphery. Instincts as old as time had him reaching for his scythe, pivoting and dropping into a defensive stance in front of his liege. It all happened so fast; Louis, the one surviving member from Garrett’s Order charged, weapon held high, people screamed and cursed around him even as his ruined leg collapsed underneath him. To his eternal horror, Beyden let out an anguished, pain-filled cry as he toppled to the ground like a tonne of bricks. He watched through blurry eyes as Ryker and Axel quickly and efficiently dispatched the rogue paladin. He felt as if every paladin and warden eye were on him as he writhed in agony on the floor. His shame became complete when he felt his liege stroking his back and telling him everything was going to be okay. A liege does not protect their paladin, Beyden thought abysmally. A paladin protects their liege. And just like that, Beyden felt all the progress he had made over the past weeks sink into a bottomless pit. The people may have hope back, but Beyden’s had just been extinguished.
His days as a sworn knight were definitely over.
ELEVEN
Ryker stared sightlessly at the computer screen. He was supposed to be fielding the queries regarding nominations for the local and international councils. Applications had flooded in and he, Mordecai, Blu, and Dex had been tasked with organising the candidates before votes from their entire population would decide who the top three wardens, paladins, and chadens who would be to undertake the new Trials. Yes, Max had worked her magic, Blu and Mordecai having agreed to allow paladins and chadens to be nominated as well.
It was a first in their history for numerous reasons. Firstly, it was a truly democratic move. Wardens, paladins, and chadens alike would have the opportunity to vote. Secondly, wardens had never had to prove themselves worthy before. Their warden status had been enough to secure their place at the top of the totem pole. Although he didn’t approve of the obvious selfish motivations behind Colt’s request, the idea of wardens demonstrating their abilities and commanding respect rather than demanding it, held appeal. And thirdly, a chaden – or chadens – would actually be sitting on a council. Sure, they had once been some of the most respected and powerful wardens in their history. But they had then become the scourge of their society. Ryker shook his head, he could hardly believe it even though he saw the evidence of their recovery every single day. Balance had truly been restored to nature. Max had fulfilled her purpose.
Max ... Ryker’s thoughts derailed with the mere whisper of her name in his mind. Thinking back to the day before and Beyden’s low words, Ryker knew they were true. Max was truly a goddess in human form, her warmth and compassion were so intrinsic to her nature, that she needed no memory to impact an entire grieving society. Any reservations regarding the votes and the upcoming Trials from those present at the Lodge had melted away upon seeing Max kneeling at a lost soldier’s feet.
“Damn you, Max,” he muttered. No memory, no clue and yet she still managed to make him love her even more.
“Cursing my name?”
“Fuck!” Ryker jumped up, slamming his knee against his desk in the process. Ignoring his potentially dislocated knee, he looked up to find Max watching him with amusement in the doorway. He swallowed hard, the sound seeming to echo in the silent room. This was the first time Max had approached him of her own accord. “Hi.”
Max smiled, her lone dimple flashing and damn near breaking his heart, “Hi. Sorry to disturb you.”
“You can disturb me anytime. Not that you disturbed me. You’re not disturbing – I mean, I don’t find you disturbing,” Ryker stuttered out. He sounded like a friggin’ moron and was grateful for the first time that the others could no longer hear him through the Order link.
She bit her lip, and he knew she was stifling a laugh. Max looked around the office for a moment before gesturing toward the door, “Can I talk to you for a moment? Walk with me?”
He nodded, forcing himself not to leap across the room – and then leap for her. “Sure,” he croaked.
Max led the way out of his office and quickly out the back door. He trailed after her like a lost puppy, his eyes zeroing in on the curves of her butt as she walked. He knew he shouldn’t. Where once he had free reign over that whole body, he now felt like a perv whenever he so much as glanced at Max’s assets. And yes, he knew how stupid that sounded given his order for the men to walk around shirtless. He didn’t care though because he swore he could detect hints of the old Max whenever she ogled them.
They walked a short way down the beach, Max slowing and pausing before looking around with a small frown. “Can we sit here?”
Ryker raised his eyebrows, thinking he didn’t give two-shits where they sat as long as Max was next to him. But then he felt his stomach drop when he recognised where they were. They were sitting in the exact same spot from over a year ago when Ryker had spilled his guts – and his heart – about his childhood and the loss of his best friend and first liege, Flint. It was also the same spot where Max had healed his scarred face and revealed the true potential of her powers for the first time. He wondered about her hesitancy to sit there and that small but adorable frown on her face. Was it possible she was remembering? He felt his heart leap in his chest with the possibility. However, a quick look in her direction had his hopes deflating in a second. There was nothing but polite interest in her gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
The words were so softly spoken that he almost missed them. But there was no mistaking the sad, guilt-ridden look in her eyes nor the way she subtly shifted away from him. He reached out to her, his hand hovering in the air between them for a moment, before he let it drop. He hesitated to physically touch her lest he never let her go again. He shook his head, knowing exactly why Max was apologising;
“No. I’m sorry. We all made a vow to respect the person you are now – to focus on the present and not wallow in the past. I keep breaking that promise. I’m sorry,” he repeated once more.
Max smiled, dropping onto the ground and pulling up her knees, “It’s okay. You don’t need to keep apologising. I know how hard this must be for you – for all of you.”
Shaking himself from his funk, he attempted a smile, “How can I help you, my liege?”
Max rewarded him with a grin, “I have a few questions about my abilities and I was hoping you’d be able to help me.”
Ryker was surprised. Max hadn’t attempted to actively use her powers since her return. At least, not to his knowledge. He considered it a positive step that she was at least contemplating them. “Of course. It is my duty and honour to serve you. Anything I can do for you, you just need to ask.”
Max cocked her head, peering at him intently. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Of course. Even if we didn’t share a personal history, as a paladin it is in my blood to be of service. It’s my purpose.”
Max frowned a little but nodded, “I can see that. I’ve, ah, been looking at you and the others. Looking as in looking.”
The emphasis on the word told Ryker exactly what Max was talking about. “Oh, and what have you discovered?”
“That you’re all exceedingly loyal, honest, loving, and noble. You’re all so righteous it’s a little sickening – if it weren’t so amazing,” she divulged.
Ryker felt himself puff up with pride. His woman thought he was amazing. Sure, she hadn’t exactly directed those words to him personally. But he’d take it. “Okay. That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I mean, you can see that we’ve been telling you the truth.”
“I can see that, yes. But I can also see bitterness ...” she cocked her head. “You’re disappointed in me.”
Ryker’s body jerked, his eyes automatically seeking out Max’s. The turquoise depths held no recriminations, merely curiosity. He found himself nodd
ing, just as enraptured by her now as he was the first time he had seen her. If there was one thing he couldn’t do to her, it was lie. So he explained truthfully;
“Yes. I’m disappointed. I understand that something as significant as using your full custodian powers for the first time has dire consequences – like crossing over to Otherworld and losing your memory.” He was trying to understand and reconcile those things at least, he admitted silently. “But I guess I have tickets on myself, thinking I was special and somehow the rules wouldn’t apply to you and me. I thought you’d recognise me, no matter what.”
“I do,” Max’s voice was quiet, almost shy.
“Wait? You do? But I thought you had no memory?” He was so confused and so scared to hope.
Max shook her head, the dark strands catching the light in random places and setting the red threads on fire. “I don’t. I mean, my mind has no memory of people or places. But ... my body seems to remember some things just fine.”
Ryker felt his grin turn lecherous, “Oh, really?”
Max huffed, smiling at him, “Not like that. Well, okay, maybe a little like that. But what I meant was, there’s something in me that reaches out to you. Almost like a presence. I can hear it like a low-level hum, feel it like a tingling warmth, taste it like ...” Max paused and shook her head. “I don’t understand it but I know it’s all about you. There’s also another feeling, similar but different in its intensity. It’s directed at everyone else in the house,” Max revealed. “I was hoping you could clarify it for me. I assume it has something to do with my abilities?”
Ryker sucked in a sharp breath, “The bond.”
“Huh?”
“I think you’re feeling the Order bond,” he swallowed hard. If Max could feel the Order bond, it meant it wasn’t broken permanently. Ryker saw her eyes flick to his coat of arms and he held his breath, willing it to start moving. When nothing happened, he forced himself to meet Max’s eyes once more. “This is a good thing.”