by W.O. Cassity
***
For someone who was so fierce and defiant, Talia managed to amaze him with how beautiful she looked with her eyebrows raised with concern for his well-being when she saved him. Her hair was dark bronze and highlighted with veins of light gold. It filled him with awe to have seen the firelight dance upon one of her long, perfect curls draped across her worried face. Following behind her, he could see under the moonlight she wore a leather vest over a flowing blouse and matching leather pants. Her hair came down in two braids across the middle of her back. He contemplated for a moment what her hair would look like undone, since he hasn’t seen it unbraided in years.
It wasn’t the first time Talia had come to his rescue. Being the son of the village baker, Donadeir often times had more incursions than many of the other children from the village. They frequently taunted him because of his rotund size, squared haircut, and disproportionately skinny legs. His mouth was too large for his face, they would tease, as it always creased with a wide grin reflecting his facetiousness. He would shrivel up his big nose into a grimace, squinting his large, brown eyes as he taunted his tormentors in kind. Over time, he had discovered it was easier to cope with the bullies by becoming the instigator instead, which didn’t stop him from portraying the role of being the victim when it suited him.
Donadeir had always felt safe with her. Talia’s father was a former vanguard knight for the Order of the Fates Divined, and so, her father taught her how to handle herself well with a sword. Although the children in the village didn’t actually use swords, Talia had taught them a lesson more than once using her staff to even the odds in Donadeir’s favor, even if he had what was coming to him.
By the way the Blood King’s guards rounded up the boys but left the girls to flee, it was easy to see where their main focus was. Most of the families in Riverside were quite poor, unlike his family, so many of the girls looked more like boys than even some of the boys did. Talia was no girl though. She was definitely a woman of splendid beauty, powerful strength, and remarkable resilience.
Donadeir’s body was weak. He panted in shallow breaths as his feet shuffled over the uneven dirt trail. His knee and his leg hurt and Talia was unrelenting in leading the way, showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon. He tried not to focus on his pain and exhaustion, instead his mind shifted toward other things. During the springs and summers when they were children, Talia and Donadeir would play in these brush thickets, building private places where they could play together. Oftentimes, she was the fierce warrior protecting their home, and he would pretend to cook her meals and care for her after her crusades to defend the kingdom from heretics.
They would laugh and play for weeks on end, just the two of them together. She was the only one who ever wanted to play with him. Her mother had been ill a lot, and her father was always away. His parents didn’t mind the two of them spending so much time together, because when they were out playing, Donadeir wouldn’t eat all the baked goods his parents had prepared for travelers.
The last summer they spent together was five years ago. It was just after her mother had passed away and her father had come home to care for her. That was the summer they built the fort at the edge of the Berring Forest.
“That’s it,” Donadeir said aloud, breaking the silence. “It would be the perfect place for us to hide.”
“Quiet, Dona!” Talia scolded him in a harsh whisper. “What are you on about? What place?”
Donadeir had not realized he had spoken so loudly. He had to remember to keep his voice low, even if they were a safe distance from the village.
With excitement dancing in his eyes, “We are not far from Dragon’s Causeway!”
Talia stopped abruptly and turned to face him. It wasn’t very often he saw confusion on her face, but it was obvious she didn’t understand what he was talking about or why he seemed so excited.
“Don’t you remember? We would battle dragons on the Causeway where we defended Fort Triumph. It was the place we built the summer before, um, before...” Donadeir allowed his sentence to trail off. He still felt so much disdain for that time in their lives when they had stopped being so close. Talia mourned her mother’s death, and that was the summer when things had changed. That was the summer when Talia had changed.
“I can’t believe I forgot about the Causeway,” Talia said, speaking to herself aloud. “That’s where we built the fort and started on the castle when we played together out here. We know all of the hiding spots, and if remnants of the fort are still there, we may be able to find shelter.”
The excitement left Donadier’s eyes, replaced by a quiet and subdued fear. His once brilliant idea now seemed more like a suicide mission. “But it is very close to the forest,” Donadeir said with a little protest in his voice. “The village hasn’t had any patrols go through the area since the hunt just before winter set in. No one has been there in a while, and I heard my father mention several wild animals have come very close to the village because of the harsh winter we had last season.”
“That may be true,” Talia replied, “but it also means if any of the Blood King’s guards were to come this way, they would have to contend with what we have to contend with. We’ve handled ourselves before out there, and we were much younger back then. We know how to protect ourselves now. All the advantages there belong to us.”
Donadier trusted Talia. He was grateful she had gone out of her way to save him, instead of running right past him as so many others had done when the soldiers attacked. He was relieved she felt so confident about going to a place which carried so many fond memories for him. He had often thought of asking her if she wanted to go for a walk to see the old play area again, but he knew she was always busy learning everything she could from her father.
After Talia’s mother passed, Donadeir recalled, the bond with her father held fast. She grew up faster than anyone else in the village, so many people had respect for her. If only the others in the village had respected him in the same way. Donadeir realized he and Talia were two different people now, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t look out for one another.
Yes, he understood this was a difficult situation and many lives were probably lost. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so happy about this opportunity to spend alone time with Talia. Donadeir wasn’t one who liked to share. He may have felt uncomfortable, but he hadn’t felt this alive in such a very long time. If they did manage to find some half-dead survivors, they would sour his opportunity to get close to Talia once again.
Talia always put others ahead of herself. He didn’t like to think she would put others before him, so he would have to remind her without her help he wouldn’t have survived. There was no way he could handle one of the guards the way she had done. He could barely handle someone as inexperienced in battle as he was. Perhaps she could even teach him how to fight as well as she did, and maybe someday, he could be her protector, as it was meant to be.
“So when we get there, we will see if we can make something that will allow us to hide and be safe. And we are going to need to find something to eat as well. I’m sorry, I’m so hungry. When I get upset, I need to eat,” Donadeir said.
“We will have to secure the area first and find water. Once we do, we can focus on gathering some food,” Talia replied.
“Couldn’t we also scout the village tomorrow?” Donadeir asked. “Perhaps the soldiers will leave tonight to seek what they are looking for.”
“We cannot risk returning to the village. If the soldiers were told to leave no stone unturned, the village would be a good point to establish a base camp so they can be thorough,” Talia responded. “Besides, from what I overheard, several people say when we got attacked, the guards were seeking the Blood King’s heir. If that is true, then Draenar, our liege, has died. The guards must be capturing all the boys of divining age to read their fates.
“But if there is food there,” Donadeir pleaded.
“It’s too risky. Most of the rations the village
had are already burned up in the fires,” Talia retorted. “There is too much risk for too little reward. It will be safer to secure a new location ourselves. From there, we can gather and hunt. And if push comes to shove, if there are any predators about, they will become the prey.”
Begrudgingly, Donadeir conceded to her wisdom. “Fine, but we can’t go without for very long. We have to keep our strength up if we expect to make it through all of this.”
“Agreed,” Talia solemnly replied.
“So how can the king’s guards do the divining ceremony on the kids they capture,” Donadeir asked to get his mind away from the fact he felt hungry already. “The Blood King proclaimed he wanted to destroy the Order. They are not gonna help his men find the Blood King’s heir.”
“The Blood King’s council, the Cult of Draenar, have their own way of practicing divination using blood magic and necromancy,” Talia replied. “If they seek the heir, then they must be making a power play to overthrow the Order. My father once said the reason some major divinations by the Order are made public, like the prophecy regarding the heir of the Blood King, were for political reasons. It always boils down to power and politics, Dona.”
Donadier was feeling overwhelmed and nauseous. Looking down at his feet, he began to think about the uneaten meat pie his mother had left on the table before they had gone to bed. She had always left out late night snacks for him to eat if he awoke in the night.
“I’m hungry, Talia,” Donadeir said.
Donadeir came to a sudden halt as he ran right into Talia. She had stopped and turned to look at him with a look of complete disbelief. What could he say? He really felt hungry.