Heddas Sword.jpg

by Hedda's Sword (lit)

  Instant, gut-wrenching pain ripped through him, burning agony the likes of which he had never known. The darkweed paled in comparison. He clenched his jaw as Maleta's spirit hesitated. He would bear any amount of pain if she would stay. He could just catch her by her hand. Even in spirit form, she was cold to the touch. As his hand clasped hers, that cold transferred to him, burning heat replaced by breath-stealing cold. His heart stuttered in his chest.

  But she was warmer, brighter. He felt it, saw it. "My life for yours," he thought. "Only let her live free, Lady," he prayed to the Light. "That is worth any price... "

  He felt a twisting, a tearing, and abruptly found himself staring at the arrowhead within his own chest. Not questioning how his consciousness came to be in her body, he sent out a small pulse of healing energy. Her heart fluttered and began beating again. So the wound was not truly mortal. He had no idea how he was able to heal someone other than himself, but began the trance-healing just as if he had been the one shot. As his real hand removed the arrow, he worked to stop the bleeding, reknit torn muscle and flesh. He felt Kikeona feeding him extra power when his reserves thinned – her own gift to the woman he loved. When he was done, he opened his eyes, back to himself. He leaned over and gave her her first breath.

  "Come back to me," he whispered against her lips.

  Maleta's eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes. Those uncanny aquamarine eyes glowed. Nay, she glowed, lit from within. With the Light, like elfkind without the seeming. And there were no scars. "What did you do now?" she whispered.

  Thunder rumbled, the ground shook, and Cianan found himself afore Hedda and Her abysmal bridge. Maleta leaned against him, barely able to stand. Kikeona appeared on the other side of Maleta, lending her strength and support. "Partners, to the end," she told him.

  Hedda's red eyes burned like fiery coals. "How dare thee?" Her voice hammered into him. "Thou hast caused an irreconcilable shift from balance in My Own. Thy insolence shall cost thee dearly." Black fire crackled within her armless sleeves.

  "It was love, not insolence," he told Her.

  A blinding flash of Light flared behind them, and a hand came to rest on Cianan's shoulder. He turned to see the Lady Herself standing behind him, silver hair and robes blowing in a nonexistent breeze. Her other hand came to rest on Maleta's shoulder. "Greetings, Little Sister," the Lady interrupted. "I wouldst think Thou wouldst compliment My champion on a job well done, and thank him for aiding Thy people in throwing off the yoke of Sunniva and restoring freedom to Thy lands."

  Hedda actually hesitated. "Thou art a long way from home." Her tone suggested the Lady hie back to whatever realm from whence She came.

  "I am wherever My people need Me," the Lady replied. "I sent My champion to Thy aid, and Thou owest Me."

  "He hast corrupted My servant. There is no balance there." Hedda sounded sulky.

  "Thou hast another darkling daughter to take up Thy sword. Release Maleta to Cianan. She is a daughter of Light now. She always was. Ever she hast struggled against the dark."

  Cianan straightened as the realization hit him. "You sent me for Maleta, Lady."

  "To save her life, and her soul," the Lady agreed. She turned to Hedda. "And to save Shamar. Thy land is free and united. Take back Thy sword. Free Maleta to the rising sun, where her heart truly lies. I claim her as My child, a daughter of Light. She shares the immortal soul of an elder. The life force burns in him, and so long as he lives, so doth she – and him I forbid Thee to harm."

  Hedda glared at Maleta. "Thou wouldst abandon My Mandate?"

  Maleta straightened. "I'll always fight injustice, but I can't fight for the dark. I won't do what Kitta did. Raven is already Yours. I can see it, feel it. I love Cianan and Jovan, and I want my home with them." She turned to the Lady. "I don't know why You bothered... Cianan almost died... but I choose the Light. Thank you for my life."

  The Lady inclined Her head. "The vow pledges a bond as old as time immortal. One heart, one soul, but it takes a great love to make it reality. Thou shalt live free, together, forever, until Cianan's death. If death takes him, it takes thee both. As he gave thee his soul, his breath, so he shall take it back in his final moment. Together in life, together in death. That is the strength, and the weakness, of the vow."

  Hedda yielded. Her sword and armor vanished from Maleta's body, to reappear at Her feet. "Van Marete, Maleta, thou art no longer My Own. I release thee from My Mandate and My service. Thou hast done well, and I thank thee. Go, and live free."

  Cianan felt the cold and the shadow leave Maleta, and she took a deep breath. The Lady filled Maleta, Kikeona and him with Light and power. "Thou hast fulfilled thy own quest as My champion, and as thy predecessor did with Arcadia, so thou hast freed the land of Shamar from tyranny. Thou hast found thy destiny, and so I release thee from My service, Cianan ta Daneal." His sword and armor vanished. "Live free together and be at peace." She turned to Hedda. "Until next time, Little Sister."

  * * * *

  The Lady vanished. Hedda and Her bridge vanished. Maleta found herself and Cianan back in the courtyard, with everyone staring at them. She glanced down at her torn, bloodied jerkin. No chain mail, no breastplate, no sword. She held out her glowing hand and gasped. "There's no scar."

  Cianan closed his eyes, and Maleta ceased glowing.

  She raised her hand to her cheek. "Is it gone too?"

  "They all are." His voice was tight. When he opened his eyes, they shimmered and he swallowed hard.

  "You were dead!" Gayle's voice shook. Her hand closed around Maleta's arm as if to confirm what her gaze beheld. "I saw you die. 'Tis a miracle."

  Maleta reached out to lay her hand on Cianan's chest, over his heart. His Lady's champion armor had vanished with her own. "You did it. We're free."

  He hauled her into his arms. "We are free," he whispered.

  Her heart was too full for mere words. Maleta pulled his head down for a thorough soul-searing kiss. Cheering finally broke them apart, and she laughed through her tears as she turned to Gayle. "It is a miracle," she agreed. She looked over at Ana. "Come here, dear Ana."

  The old woman approached. Cianan took Ana's hands in his and dropped to his knees. "You saved her life, and I can never repay that debt."

  Her lip trembled. "Ye brought her back t' me. 'Tis I who thank ye."

  Maleta took a deep breath. "Ana, would you show us home?"

  "I've been waiting six years for ye to say that, child." Ana smiled as Cianan climbed to his feet. "Come with me."

  "Your orders, Van Marete?" Gayle asked.

  Maleta looked around the courtyard. "Lock up the prisoners in the barracks behind the armory. Have the wounded moved to the great hall and tended to. See to the dead." She raised her gaze to the opened gateway, where the peacock banners fluttered in the breeze. "I want every bit of Sunniva torn down and burned. Hoist our colors."

  "With pleasure, lady." Dagonet bowed.

  "I'll see it done." Gayle turned to the men. "Don't just stand there like posts! You heard our lady – let's move!"

  Mrow grinned and prodded Ford. "Ye lead these men. Ye can lead them straight t' yer prison."

  "Your sentence shall be decided later," Raven intoned.

  Maleta turned to where Jana and Polkara waited by the wagon. "Come inside, and bring Jovan." She stared at the keep. She'd stood in the courtyard where her parents were murdered, and survived. It was the same courtyard where Cianan had brought her back from the brink of death, and freed them both from the service of the gods. Cianan was right – this wasn't an evil place. It was home, with both good and bad memories. She looked at Cianan, and squeezed his hand. "Time for some new memories."

  He smiled. "Good ones."

  Maleta entered the great hall. Servants had already taken Sunniva's banner from over the throne, and tossed it into the fire. Maleta pointed to Ford's throne. "Get rid of that. I never want to see it again. The family table goes up on the dais." She turned to Ana. "You still have Mama's rugs and ta
pestries?"

  Ana nodded. "They're stored away."

  "I want this room restored. I want everything restored, as much as possible."

  "Understood." Ana went to gather the servants.

  Maleta took a deep breath as she stared up the stairwell. Cianan placed a hand on her shoulder. The warmth of his love soothed away the fear. She closed her eyes. A giggling eight-year-old Jovan ran up the stairs, fleeing his outraged older sister. Her father coughed and sputtered on a salted tart as her mother poured him another cup of ale. "Those damn tarts." She opened her eyes and smiled. "He locked himself in his room, where I couldn't get him. Come on. We'll start there. See if it's ready for Jovan."

  "Benilo is ready whenever you are," Cianan assured her.

  Maleta climbed the stairs. Ana was a fastidious housekeeper. Even as a military outpost, the keep was spotless. She stared down the corridor to her parents' room. She couldn't go down there. Not yet.

  "You can always turn it into the best guest chamber," Cianan suggested.

  She burrowed against him, clinging. "I'm so glad you understand."

  "I know how hard this is for you." He rubbed her back with both hands.

  She took a deep shuddering breath and lifted her head to search his eyes. "I'm all right, honest."

  Cianan closed his eyes and dipped his head to capture her lips with his. She whimpered and opened her mouth under his. His tongue stroked across her lower lip, making her shiver. She reached up to curl her hands around his neck and pull him closer. Her whole body tingled, and she let his kiss sweep her away as far as it would. Her breasts ached strangely, her nipples pebbled against her shirt as she slid against him. His skin heated beneath her hands, and she found herself drawn to the fire.

  Cianan broke off the kiss, only to rain more down the side of her neck and back up to whisper, "I love you, elingrena," in her ear. "You amaze me," he whispered against her lips afore taking her mouth in another searing kiss.

  She clutched his shoulders as her knees threatened to buckle. She felt his hands rubbing warm circles on her lower back, sliding lower to cup her backside, to draw her closer against his burning erection. An unexpected stab of panic struck her, and she froze.

  Cianan immediately pulled back. "Elingrena, look at me."

  She dragged in a shuddering breath, and opened her eyes to see his familiar cobalt gaze. "I'm sorry, I – "

  "Shh, easy now," he soothed. "It is just me. Do not apologize. I apologize to you. It was not my intention to go this far, in an open corridor in a keep full of people. But you are irresistible. You go straight to my head like fine wine. Forgive me. I shall never hurt you."

  "I know that." Tears of frustration burned her eyes. "What if I can't... what if I never... " She couldn't bring herself to say the words. Her heart pounded with fear, even though her body still tingled with lingering passion.

  "Breathe. Just breathe." He joined her as she did so, and she swore his heart slowed to match hers with each calming breath. "Shh, relax. You can, and you will, when you are ready." He ran a hand through her hair and smiled at her. "For now, let us go find your brother's sanctuary, and then yours."

  Sanctuary. It had been years since she'd considered Kunigonde in such a light. "It's up on the next level – his room and mine." Maleta climbed the stairs and turned down the corridor. Her heart pounded as she approached Jovan's door, and she reached a trembling hand to the latch. She lifted it, and the door swung inward on silent hinges. Someone had maintained it in good repair. She gasped, too stunned to speak. It was as if the last six years had never happened. There sat his bed in the far corner, the table and chair he used to study at.

  "My lady?" A female voice startled her. Maleta turned to see an unfamiliar servant hovering a few feet away. "With yer permission, my lady, we could start a fire an' change th' bed linens. Mistress Ana made sure we kept the room aired and cleaned, so it should only take a few minutes." She was as good as her word. With the lighting of the fireplace and wall sconces, more was revealed.

  Kunigonde's stag draped over the study table, an inkwell and parchment ready for Jovan's hand. His old lyre and lute stood in their old familiar places. The rug her mother had woven still graced the floor. Maleta picked a book off the bedside table. "This was Jovan's favorite book of poetry... " She flipped it open to the marked page, and her eyes brimmed with tears as she pulled out a badly embroidered bookmark of musical notes on uneven lines. "I made this for him, for his tenth birthday. He kept it? I thought he'd burn it – it's awful." She started laughing, and suddenly found herself crying. "I'm sorry, this is stupid of me – "

  Cianan pulled her to him. "You are not being stupid. I think you will find little things like this bookmark all over this place. Family. Home. I think the little rat must have loved you, after all."

  She swung back to laughing again and wiped her eyes to look over at the wardrobe. A man's clothes hung in there. Maleta stepped closer, shivering as she recognized her father's things. She reached out to caress the sleeve of a velvety tunic. Time and Ana's washing had removed her father's scent from the cloth, but she could still picture her father wearing it on special occasions. "These were my father's. They should fit Jovan fairly well." Her voice shook.

  "I think this room will be perfect," Cianan said. "We should have Jovan rest in here for the night and call Benilo at sunrise, when the Light first cracks the dark – that is when the Lady's power is strongest. A good omen."

  A knock sounded on the door. Hajnal stood in the open doorway. "Can we bring him up?"

  "Aye," Maleta stated. She and Cianan stood aside as Mrow and Ain carried Jovan in on a makeshift stretcher. After the men got Jovan settled onto the bed, Maleta tucked the covers around him and brushed the hair from his closed eyes.

  Hajnal settled into the chair at the table. "Will he be all right?"

  "Sunrise tomorrow," Maleta told her. "We're calling a special healer, one of Cianan's people. We think he might be able to wake Jovan up."

  Hope lit the girl's brown eyes. "I pray Nerthus makes it so," Hajnal said. "I'll stay with him tonight."

  "You're a true friend," Maleta told her. "Thank you for looking after him all these years." She kissed Jovan's forehead and then left the room with Cianan right behind her. She rubbed her hands up and down her crossed arms. "I'm almost afraid to go down there," she confessed, staring at her own door.

  "I have to tell you I am dying of curiosity," Cianan said. "But if you do not want to do this, I understand."

  Of course he did. He had been all that was steady and supportive while she went to pieces – repeatedly. She had to pull herself together. Maleta took a deep breath and crossed the hall to her room. Reaching out and faltering, twice, she curled her fingers into a fist to prevent her hand from shaking and lifted the latch on her third try. Like Jovan's door, hers swung silently. Like Jovan's room, hers had been cleaned and aired.

  "Let me get a torch for the fire," Cianan offered. The room sprang into light, and he looked around with interest.

  Maleta stepped onto the braided rug she'd made herself, and froze. Marete still lived in this room. Her embroidery stood in the corner, a half-finished unicorn standing amidst orange flowers. Tears stung her eyes as she crossed over to it. "Orange cerias, Mama's favorite flowers." She traced a line of thread with her finger, then turned to the dressing table, where a comb, a silver hand mirror and various hair ribbons lay aside a wash basin and pitcher. She ran a hand through her short spiky hair and picked up a blue ribbon. "Guess I won't be needing these anytime soon." Her laughter was brittle and forced.

  Cianan placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her back against him to place a tender kiss on the back of her neck. "I love your hair the way it is. It makes those gorgeous eyes stand out even more. You are beautiful to me, elingrena." He fingered the ribbon she held. "We could always make more bookmarks."

  Genuine laughter bubbled up from nowhere, relaxing her enough to walk over to the balcony door. "I used to stand out there, staring o
ut over the mountains, wondering if there was another girl in the south staring northward at the same time as me. I wondered what was out there, if there was more to life than housekeeping and dancing lessons. I longed for adventure... " Her voice trailed off, and she started to shake. "Be careful what you wish for, hmm?"

  He silently handed her the rag doll from her bed and pulled her down to sit aside him on the mattress. She clutched the doll and leaned against him, just breathing. Breathing in his scent, the warmth of his love. She felt his heart aching along with her own. Knowing she wasn't alone made the pain more bearable.

  "You never cease to amaze me, elingrena." Cianan's voice was hoarse. "You are the strongest, most beautiful woman I have ever known. I do not deserve you, but I shall love you with every breath for as long as I live."

  She turned in his arms and laid a hand against his cheek. He leaned in for a lingering kiss, at once comforting and reverent. They held each other for a long time. Polkara was right, Maleta thought. They were stronger together.

  * * * *

  Maleta wrung her hands and stared at Jovan as Cianan finished his explanation. "Benilo is prepared to cross over. Are you ready?" he asked.

  Ana's eyes were wide, but she nodded and poked at Maleta.

  Startled, Maleta jumped. "Aye."

  "All right. I shall be waiting in your room." He reached out, cupped his hand under Maleta's chin so she met his gaze, and he smiled. "This is it. Your final miracle." He let himself out and closed the door.

  The wardrobe wavered and shimmered. Sparkling violet and lavender split asunder, and a tall blond elf in green, with blue eyes, stepped into the room. The gate vanished behind him.

  "Oh my." Ana dropped into the chair.

  "What color was it this time?" He motioned behind himself.

  "Purple," Maleta blurted, trying not to stare. Agelessly handsome, he had the most compassionate eyes she'd ever seen.