An End to Summer

by Diana Rose Wilson

  Joy’s brows drew together at the word and she glanced down at herself and then back to Winnifred. “Does it not please you?”

  “Well,” Winnifred glanced over her shoulder and then moved from the dais to the woman’s side. “Modesty, beloved.” She motioned a hand to her own clothing which made Joy’s smile widen as she admired it all from toes to crown.

  “I did not think in my haste. I wished to be with you instantly. I deliver good tidings. I bring your brother and his consort’s offspring,” she announced with delight. “The future heir to the throne.” Her lilac eyes gleamed as she looked from Winnifred to Bennonton.

  “What?” Winnifred demanded. Her voice was loud in the awe-silent hall. “How is this possible?” She turned to glare at her brother in accusation before jabbing a finger at him. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Joy laughed happily. “Be at peace, my beloved. It is my doing and the pleasure of my whimsy.” She slid her hand down between her breasts to the small swell of her stomach, allowing the slight roundness to be displayed for the court. “He and his beloved have nothing to do with my choice. I bestow this blessing upon them and all of Talgraem.

  Winnifred’s frosty gaze stayed on Bennonton who moved to Zan’Dar’s side, slipping his arm around him. “But we have not coupled with you, lady.” He was looking at Zan’Dar in shock and fear making his jaw tight. He begged with that golden gaze that Zan’Dar believe he had no part of pairing with the deity. How could he have? When would there have been time?

  “Do you want to?” Joy purred, and then let out a bright laugh at the mixture of horror, outrage and jealousy she discovered on their faces. “Oh! No, my darlings. Please, I do no harm. I am deity born. I do not need the physical act.” She brushed the back of her hand across Bennonton’s cheek and she leaned in to kiss Zan’Dar’s.

  “But both of us? Is it possible?” Zan’Dar asked.

  “It is. Of course.” She looked down at her stomach again and reached for Bennonton’s hand and pulled it to her bare belly, pressing his touch there. “Make no mistake. I witnessed your love together in the forest. I wish to be a part of that union and you are in need of a host for such a beautiful event.”

  “I could have produced the heir.” Winnifred demanded hotly.

  Joy tipped her chin and looked to Winnifred and asked seriously, “Does my virgin, beloved wish for a man to cover her and claim her blood rite?” There was surprise in the question, red eyebrows arching up.

  Winnifred’s expression twisted in disgust and she huffed out, “I would do anything for crown and country! It is my duty.”

  “Nay, my heart. Our beloved will join us in time and you need not soil yourself under a man.” She drew away from Bennonton and Zan’Dar. Pulling the coat around her she moved to Winnifred’s side. “Be at ease, my love. Do not begrudge your brother and his beloved their children, nor your father the heirs he so desperately longs for.”

  “But why? What have we done that has earned us this great blessing?” Bennonton asked, pulling Zan’Dar closer and keeping his arm around him possessively.

  Joy’s bright gaze dimmed slightly as she considered the question. “There are prices to be paid. This is only a sliver of the payment that I owe to you all.” Her lower lip trembled slightly before she hugged the princess tightly.

  The way the deity said it and the way she clung to the princess made cold dread crawl down Zan’Dar’s spine. A fee owed for some future deed. From the stricken expression on her features, it couldn’t be good. Wouldn’t be good. Bennonton seemed to feel it too and tightened his hold, drawing himself up to his full height as though he could shield Zan’Dar from whatever the danger might be.

  The way that Joy looked at him was laden with so much pain that he shivered. “Remember that even in the darkest moments, there are always paths into the light if you are brave enough to continue your search. There is no pleasure without equal suffering. I wish that I could save you from it, but even a deity cannot do all things.”

  Winnifred worried her lower lip between her teeth until Joy reached out and cupped her cheek and leaned in, kissing the corner of her mouth in a sweet, chaste kiss. “All will be well, my darling one.” She took Winnifred’s hand and pulled it to her stomach as her smile returned. “Your niece and nephew. All glory to them.”

  Chapter 21

  It was amazing, Zan’Dar thought as he bundled the young girl into her cloak, how completely he had transitioned into it, this life. The toddler fussed and whined protests as he pulled the fur and cashmere mittens on her tiny hands. Once they were on, though, she smiled up at him, making crab-pinches in the air with the fluffy blue mitts.

  He’d been an outsider and believed to be a spy and traitor; however, for the better part of his life he had enjoyed the privilege of consort to the Calvary General, lord Bennonton, second heir to the crown. Now though, he was sire in trust to the future of Talgraem.

  Princess Gloriana giggled when he swept her into his arms. She squirmed in resistance as he buried his face into her neck to breathe in the warm, pear-sweet scent of her. “Daddy! Tickles!” she squealed.

  “You are supposed to be getting her ready, not trying to eat her, beloved.” The low voice rumbled from the next room just as the man walked in. Bennonton filled the arched hall a moment, blotting out the light before stepping into the sunny sitting room. He was dressed in his fine coat as he carried the wriggling boy with the greatest care. The grin he fixed on Zan’Dar pulled the scar that ran down his jaw and made his crooked smile look devastatingly handsome.

  That expression pulled at something deeper in Zan’Dar, too. The link between them, the love hot and strong as their gazes met across the room. For a moment, he considered putting off the outing completely. They could have auntie Winnifred watch the little ones while he and Bennonton spent a much needed few hours together.

  “Daddy,” Gloriana squealed again, twisting and making crab-hands at her second father. “Beard tickles!”

  The boy, Anthony, was a mirror of the girl. The twins wore their long, scarlet hair in two braids, wrapped and woven in the traditional sapphire ribbons. Inherited from their mother, they were blessed with flawless porcelain skin and huge lavender eyes. Each had the square jaws and high cheekbones from Bennonton, their royal sire and dimples and nose from Zan’Dar, their spirit-kin father.

  They were literally gifts from the goddess. The future of the mighty Talgraem was more precious than honor, glory or gold. They were more important to Zan’Dar than anything in all the lands and the worlds beyond the threshold.

  “Yes, he is a savage, isn’t he?” Bennonton asked the girl, fetching her from Zan’Dar and playfully balancing both of the children, one in each powerful arm.

  “Savage!” Their son said and reached his bare fingers out to Zan’Dar. So they traded children, Zan’Dar working mittens onto the boy’s hands while they went down the stairs, rejecting the offers from the nurses and nannies to help them.

  It was the first day of winter.

  Southern Talgraem never felt very cold, but in the pre-dawn light, it was chilly enough to pretend the children needed mittens for their tiny fingers.

  “Are you sure about this?” Bennonton asked as they walked through the yard, towards the gathered guard. “They are a little young for this. Aren’t they?”

  “No. It’s good for them.”

  “I don’t trust it,” the general grumbled quietly and cracked a knowing smile at Zan’Dar’s quiet chuckle.

  “Overprotective, old man. I’m not tossing them into the ocean to swim it.”

  “Yet,” his love whispered and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

  What waited them with the guard were a pair of fine ponies, hand selected by the master of horse and evaluated by lord Marshall Chirmeng and Mortari as well as Joy herself. Zan’Dar suspected from their intelligent dark eyes that they were as far from ponies as a war-mount was from a horse. They were something quite other if Joy, their mother, was allowing this. She would nev
er allow them upon any, wild animal, no matter how domesticated the claim.

  They looked like ponies, stocky in the leg and low to the ground. Their beasts were built more elegantly than any pony he could recall from those long years ago back home. They were both a pale, burnished bronze, the dark muzzle and legs fading into nearly white except for the dark dorsal stripe down their spines.

  They were dressed out as fine as any mount for Festival, sapphire bows neatly twined in the buttons of the mane braids.

  They are the smallest sapphire stallions the kingdom has the honor of addressing, Mortari whispered in the back of his mind, amusement mingling with a heaviness of respect.

  “Oh!” Anthony clutched at the front of Zan’Dar’s jacket, lilac eyes wide with awe and squirmed while he was set to his feet before the first of the small mounts. Standing next to the guarding mounts they seemed tiny but next to his son, they were huge. Suddenly Zan’Dar had a flutter of misgiving. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. And yet, he had been about that age when his father had him sit his first pony. He had to choke down the sudden panic at the possibility that the boy might get hurt.

  The little mare nudged her dainty muzzle into the boy’s chest making him giggle in delight and all doubt vanished.

  “Daddy. Down. Okay?” Gloriana patted Bennonton’s cheek with the fluffy mitten until she was lowered to the ground. She padded to the second tiny mount and flung her little arms around his sturdy neck and began chattering away to the animal as though they were long lost friends.

  “Your children,” Bennonton teased as he slid his arms around Zan’Dar and pulled him close. “Part war-mount. I should have suspected.”

  “No, they are just made to ride cavalry, Lord General,” Zan’Dar whispered, tucking himself against his lover’s side just to watch the children petting their new mounts. “Interesting that they went to the right ones, isn’t it?”

  Bennonton glanced at him and smiled. “I can no longer be shocked about anything regarding our children, love.”

  “We can blame their mother,” Zan’Dar suggested.

  “Blame me? Whatever for?” Joy’s voice was warm with happiness as she came outside on Princess Winnifred’s arm. Both women were dressed splendidly for the first day of winter in matching white. Joy’s brilliant blood-red hair was twisted into twin braids and the princess’s red feathered hair was beaded in intricate patterns as she’d done since her return from Lyni.

  “We were commenting on how well the children are taking to their new mounts.”

  The twins were, for once, too distracted with the little mounts to greet their mother or auntie which made Winnie laugh quietly, hugging onto the arm she held. “They are growing up so fast. Can’t you stop it? I want them to be little and sweet forever. Don’t let them become adults.”

  “Time speeds by for all,” Joy murmured, her purple gaze following the little ones before turning a smile on Zan’Dar and Bennonton. She said nothing more, her expression thoughtful and lingering, Zan’Dar thought, a little longer on himself before she finally turned back to the children. “I look forward to their future, as must we all.”

  The brightness of laughter in her tone made dread clutch at his heart. A cold that had nothing to do with the winter wind crawled up his back. On impulse, he drew away from Bennonton and went to their children, hugging each of them. He went down onto his knee and listened to them tell him all about their mounts. Their excited words tumbling over each other as they each tried to tell him everything.

  “You’ll get to ride them this afternoon. How would you like that? Hm?” He smoothed a hand over their heads as they beamed at this news.

  “We will run very fast, daddy,” Anthony promised as solemnly as the dark eyes of his little mount.

  Gloriana threw her arms around his neck in a fierce little hug. “Thank you, Daddy!”

  And it was perfect. He felt his mounts and Bennonton sharing in that blissful moment. There was even the lightest touch from Joy in approval. This is what family should be; the selfless, unbending love for his beloved and their offspring. It didn’t matter how unusual the method to acquire them had been.

  They never got to that ride.

  The horn blowing across the courtyard startled them all. A warning blasted in three clarion notes of disaster and doom.

  Enemy at the gates. Invaders.

  Death!

  For a moment, he couldn’t move. He needed to protect his beloved, their children the mother of their children, his sister and their king. How could he manage all of it?

  Mortari’s voice snarled through him. Shaking him away from the pitiful clutch of terror tearing at his heart. We defend your beloved and the kingdom. Their mother will protect the small ones.

  It was true. Joy was already extracting the fearful children from his arms. When he met her gaze, her expression was unreadable, except for her utter lack of fear. All he saw was steel resolve. “They will be safe,” she whispered, “I swear it.”

  It was more than he could ask for. He wanted to say more except that his throat was too tight and Mortari was demanding he come now! They had to ride.

  Chapter 22

  The invaders weren’t as close as the gates, thank all the gods. The word went up in time to prevent them from spilling past the borders and into Talgraem. They rode with the first group of mounted guard to supplement the fractured army to make sure the threat was driven out for good this time. They only had to get there in time.

  Even though they were expecting trouble along the road, they were not prepared for the savage ambush when it came. The number of men who had managed to make it so far south was staggering. Somehow, they had designed this skillful attack in secret. It was clear that it was a plot to kill the acting general at the border; however, they were also sending forces down in covert units towards the palace. Along the way they were taking and destroying everything in their path.

  The flaw was in thinking Bennonton would be at the border and not in the guard coming to their aid. It was a brutal series of battles. They managed to shatter the invader’s ranks and overtook them. The captives were taken and hauled back to the king for a proper extraction of information. Most of their remaining men continued north to the border.

  Bennonton wanted him to return to the palace and make sure nothing happened when the captives arrived. Zan’Dar was torn. Mortari didn’t want to leave his brother’s side and insisted they needed to stay together if Bennonton was going north.

  “All right.” Bennonton scowled over at him as they rode. “I’m going to tell you right now that I don’t like it. You are a warrior, and well trained but I…I do not want to see you in harm’s way.”

  Zan’Dar forced a grim smile. “Yes, well, you should know by now, that trouble hounds me. I’m staying with you. Who do you trust more to watch your back?”

  That put an end to the argument, though Bennonton clearly didn’t like it. For years they’d believed peace was theirs. The blind prince of Klorwur had even brought the branch of peace to kneel at Princess Winnifred’s feet. Ah, they could not be so lucky. The revenge had been in their hearts all this time, just waiting for the time to spring free.

  The second ambush struck them unexpectedly as night fell. They managed to separate their fractured group and Zan’Dar found himself alone for a moment against too many warriors. The forest rang with screams of men and beasts and the clash of steel. Somehow, either from his desperation, skill or raw luck, he managed to cut his way through them and led them back into the mass of guard who swept over them.

  Bennonton was not so lucky. Zan’Dar saw him pinned between far too many mounted warriors. Mortari roared out his fury, a horrible sound for a war-mount to make and leapt forward to aid them.

  CHUNK! CHUNK! CHUNK!

  The sound the arrows made as they slammed into Zan’Dar’s back were more terrifying than the pain. Mortari answered with a scream of rage and plunged forward, trampling the soldiers ahead of them and then whirled as Zan’Dar pulled the swor
d free to block the curved weapon of the traitor coming for him. He held his blade high, blocking the smashing blow that came on him.

  The impact buzzed through his limb, making it go numb, and he realized he could no longer grip onto Mortari with his legs. His lower body was unresponsive. He could feel the burning heat of the arrows prickled down his spine and knew as he found himself slipping that he wouldn’t be walking away from this.

  He was going to die.

  Hold on, Zan’Dar! Mortari snarled and whirled, swinging out with his hip and then bucking up, using both hind legs to drive the traitor back.

  The damage was done. His shattered arm blinded him with pain, and in horror he saw that the sword was gone along with the hand that had held it. The scream that tore from him was echoed by Mortari. The horse charged back towards the prince and the knot of ambush riders.

  Bennonton fought on valiantly, but there were too many of the enemy forces, and not enough men to guard his back. Zan’Dar could still do something. He must do more than simply witness his beloved fall. He could not watch as the kingdom he swore his life to protect was defeated.

  He embraced his spirit form as he threw himself from the back of his mount. He connected with the mounted warrior who bore down on the general, raking him with remaining cloven hoof and stabbed with his crown of antlers.

  He’d done his duty.

  He’d protected his love, his prince, his oath sworn and heart-bound. The payment for their beloved children was paid in full.

  The words would not come to his lips though he tried with what strength he had left to send his thoughts and heart spiraled towards the prince he loved.

  Worth it.

  Every moment.

  Worth it.

  Every breath and drop of blood. He would never change a thing. But he had no voice to speak the words.

  You are dying, bright eyes! Bennonton’s voice rang through him, twisted with all the grief and longing.