“Listen carefully,” the Chief stated firmly, his eyes shifting to each of them in turn. “I will not allow you two to make a fool of our people in front of the Vor’shai. Onuric,” he glanced toward him sharply, “Take your men and maintain the watch point a few miles out of Nahedu. The ally troops will approach there before reaching the village. You are to greet them and send word to me of their arrival.”
“It was not my decision to call for them. You humiliate me by asking me to lie at their feet when they arrive.”
“It is your duty as my son to employ diplomacy with our allies. This is not a choice. I am giving you an order.”
“They are your allies, not mine.”
“Hold your tongue!” Neomi flinched at the sound of her father’s voice. He struggled to maintain his composure, the pale complexion of his face reddened by the blood rising to his cheeks. “I expect my son to obey me without question. You know nothing of how to handle tactics which go beyond those of a simple hunting party. How do you expect to lead our people when I am gone if you cannot listen to my direction?”
“I was against this in the first place,” Onuric snapped. Bold in his mannerisms, he brought his body square with Okivra, stepping closer. “You were the one who wanted us to crawl on our knees to the Tanispan Queen. We have existed without the need of assistance for centuries. You are the one who makes us look a fool. Not me.”
In a display of immense strength and control Okivra’s hand extended to Onuric’s chest, gripping the fabric of his tunic tightly with his fingers, lifting him effortlessly from the ground. Onuric dangled there at Okivra’s mercy, wide-eyed in shock to find himself in his father’s grasp. “The last thing I want is for outsiders to know that our people have taken to killing one another like savages. But there are more important things to consider right now than our pride. This creature will continue to kill us until the mere thought of the Ovatai becomes extinct. I am not about to sit back and let our people die. You were trained in the ways of Vor’shai culture for a reason. Do you throw your lessons in my face? If that is the case, then perhaps I should seek a new heir. One who understands the importance of occasionally exercising humility.”
Neomi’s heart raced. She had never seen her brother act with such disrespect toward their father. Onuric deserved the treatment he received now but she hated to stand there and do nothing. Tension was high for everyone. It would do their people no good for the Chief to be at war with his own family. “I will greet them, Father,” she stated loudly, moving forward to catch the Chief ’s eye. “It was I who requested them to come. They will not think it a slight if I am their first contact upon reaching our land.”
Releasing his grip on Onuric the Chief set his gaze on Neomi, the tautness of his features softening. “At least one of my children sees reason,” he muttered, shoving Onuric backward, paying little attention as his son fought to remain on his feet. “It is settled. Neomi, you will relieve Ewei of his current watch at the checkpoint. The men and women there are your responsibility. Onuric,” he cast a cross glance at his son, “you will remain here until I have decided what to do with you. I cannot trust you to lead our people if your attitude does not undergo a severe transformation.”
Without giving a chance for interruption Okivra stormed out of the room, disappearing through the door, back into the streets where he had come. Neomi watched, waiting for him to be out of sight before turning to Onuric, the anger inside only building to see the smug look that marred his usually handsome features. How could he not be ashamed of himself? Their father was doing everything he could to save their people and Onuric just stood there, so sure of himself, disrespecting the Chief in every conceivable way. It was a disgusting display. One she wasn’t going to tolerate without telling him what was on her mind.
“You have some nerve.”
“Excuse me?” he glared at her, his tone low.
Satisfied that she had his attention Neomi continued, crossing the floor between them with long, determined strides. “You have no right to speak to our father that way. He has given you an existence far beyond what anyone else has had the honor of living and you treat him like garbage. Do you despise the Vor’shai so greatly that you are willing to injure our own father?”
“The Vor’shai are not deserving of our acknowledgment. They are nothing but a worthless race of rats that could not fight their own battles without us. Their people would be in slavery to the Ven’shal had it not been for us, and you know it.”
“You give us a great deal of credit for what little work we did in their war. We offered them exactly what we have asked in return. Mere numbers. Extra bodies on the battlefield to help stave off the threat.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Do you forget that the Vor’shai Queen defeated the remaining generals of the Ven’shal army? Our people had nothing to do with that. You can even ask Father. He saw it with his own eyes.”
“And you were too young to understand anything that was going on at the time. What gives you the right to try and school me on history when I have far more experience at life than you?”
“Because unlike you, I am capable of taking history into account before making judgment on others. You were not in that war. You did not see the Vor’shai fight. That leaves you in no position to assume their worth. Our warriors prove themselves on the battlefield. If our father did not believe the Vor’shai to have proven themselves, he never would have sent for their help.”
Never letting his eyes off her Onuric began a slow pace, circling around Neomi, a thoughtful yet arrogant expression on his face. Chin lifted, he looked her over appraisingly, seemingly dissatisfied with what he saw. “You defend them quite valiantly for a woman who only just met one of their race for the first time. Tell me, sister. What cause do you serve in lecturing me about the Vor’shai? Have you some personal investment in demanding my approval of them?”
“Personal investment?” she scoffed. “The only personal investment I have is in the fact that they agreed to help us when they could just as easily have sent me away. Are you so embittered over Mevuk’s death that you have lost all respect for what our people once stood for?”
She knew her mistake in speaking Mevuk’s name before it tumbled forth from her lips. Holding her ground, she straightened her shoulders, determined not to flinch at the sight of Onuric coming toward her, hand raised as if to strike. Teeth gritted he brought his hand toward her, stopped abruptly, the back of his hand never making contact with her face. Narrowing her eyes she stared him down. Challenging him. She dared him to hit her. Okivra would never allow such an act to go unpunished. Onuric knew this. It was the only thing which prevented him from following through with the urge. “You are heartless, Neomi,” he hissed angrily. “Your husband is barely cold in his grave and you use him as ammunition for the sake of your petty arguments. Tell me, sister. Have you mourned the loss at all? Am I the only one who has any respect for the dead?”
Slowly the malice on his face began to fade, staring into her eyes. For a brief moment she saw the old Onuric. The gentle gaze of her brother that had been lost over the years. His hand lightly came to rest against her cheek, caressing her face. Guilt flashed in his eyes. It was quick. Almost unnoticeable. Neomi was the only person who would ever have observed the flicker of emotion in his hardened gaze, relaxing at the soft touch of her brother’s hand.
“I am sorry,” he whispered. “You have never been one to make your feelings known. It is unfair of me to presume you do not despair the loss of your husband. Mevuk was a mentor to us both. He should be remembered honorably. His name should not be tossed about idly.”
“Then you admit that his death has wounded you? Is this the reason you lash out at our father?”
“Can you blame me, Neomi?”
“I can,” she nodded. “And if I was anyone else, I might actually do so.” Lifting her arm she let her hand rest atop his upon her cheek. It was best that she not elaborate on her personal feelings regarding Mevuk’s death. Clarity of
mind was rare with Onuric. She needed to seize this opportunity to try and reason with him about the Vor’shai. “Tell me, brother,” she added quietly. “What is it which makes you detest our allies? Did the Prince do something to you during your visit to Tanispa?”
The lines on his forehead deepened at the mention of the Prince. “Nothing to me, no,” he said through tight lips. Agitated by the topic. “Neomi, I used to take comfort in knowing that Mevuk would protect you if something like this happened. It is difficult for me not to take you under my wing the way I did before you were married. Among our people it is enough for the men to know who your father is to keep them from coming near you. The Vor’shai men will have no such respect. I have seen the way they behave. Their mannerisms are boorish. Flippant. The Prince himself taught me their custom of kissing a woman’s hand in greeting. A woman I only just met. That tells me something of their character. Their people. I do not trust them. Their men will try to take advantage of you.”
Take advantage of her? She laughed inside at the thought. So that was it? He disliked the Prince because of a silly custom? One that she herself assaulted him for when he attempted to enact it upon her in greeting. The memory only heightened her amusement though she didn’t dare express it to her brother. If Onuric learned that the Prince’s lips had been anywhere near her, he would take it personally. And they couldn’t risk unnecessary strife between them and their allies. “I am not easily taken advantage of,” she assured him. It wasn’t a lie. The Vor’shai men were of no interest to her. Their purpose was to aid the cause. Nothing else. “You worry needlessly, Onuric. I am Ovatai. I will not tolerate insolence. If any of those men overstep their boundaries, I will handle the situation without question or care for what the repercussions may be.”
“Even the Prince?”
“Were I you, the Prince would be the least of my concerns.”
“Would he be?” Onuric eyed her curiously. “You forget I met him. I saw the way the women chased after him. He needed only look at them and they would do whatever he asked. I worry about you, Neomi. That he will set his sights on you.”
“Did you see him abuse his power over these women?” It was a silly question to ask. Why did she feel compelled to defend him? Perhaps the fact that she’d so brazenly insulted him upon their initial meeting. She knew absolutely nothing about the man yet she felt indebted to him. Without his help she would have spent the night in a cell in the darkest corners of the Tanispan palace. To defend his honor was the least she could do.
Onuric heaved a dejected sigh, lowering his hand away from Neomi’s face. “No,” he shook his head in defeat. “The man had no idea the control he had over them. That is exactly why I worry about you.”
“You worry about me because these women fell over themselves for his attention while he was unaware of their affection? Do I look like a fool?”
“Of course not.”
“Then do not think I will so easily succumb to such nonsense. I do not get swept away in my emotions. You all but said it yourself. Perhaps I am heartless after all.”
“Just be careful. Their culture is different from ours. We cannot have them ingratiating themselves with our women. I want their soldiers out of Ethrysta as soon as possible. Is that understood?”
“We all want them out of Ethrysta as soon as possible; albeit for different reasons,” she stated calmly. “Admit that your cooperation with their military leaders will hasten their leave, which in turn grants us all what we want in the end. If you continue to act against them, our plans will fail and they will either leave us to die or be killed alongside us. No one wants to see either of those possibilities occur.”
Deep in thought Onuric clasped his hands behind his back, pacing slowly across the center of the room. Occasionally he would lift his head, staring at Neomi before resuming his contemplative stride. She couldn’t tell if it was working. He appeared receptive. Her words had been heard. She dared to hope that he was considering them while lost in his distraction. It was impossible to tell with him.
He came to a sudden halt in front of her. Their eyes locked, the familiar understanding in his gaze sending a wave of relief through her. She had won. No words were needed to tell her of his submission. It was written all over his face. “I will be cordial to the soldiers, but only because you ask it of me. Know this, however.” The stern expression returned to his face, pointing his index finger at her for emphasis of what he was about to say. “If any of them come near you, I will not tolerate the insult. Ally or not, they will feel the wrath of the Ovatai. My benevolence toward them is for your sake, not theirs. And patience is not a virtue I have ever been accused of possessing.”
“Then you will go to the Nahedu camp and await their arrival as our father asks?”
Onuric snorted derisively. “Don’t be foolish,” he sneered. “I said I would suffer their presence for the sake of our people. That does not mean I wish to be their friend, nor am I willing to grovel at their feet. I’ll leave that up to you and our father. At least one member of our family should retain our dignity.”
“It was worth trying,” she frowned. “You have my gratitude, Onuric. You will not regret this.”
“I better not. There will be more bloodshed if I do.”
His pride was unmatched by any man she’d ever known. Jutting his chin out defiantly he turned away from her, moving across the room toward the inner corridors, leaving Neomi there in the silence of the spacious foyer. She was beginning to second-guess her decision to support the coming of the Vor’shai. A civil war was devastating enough. The last thing the Ovatai needed was for Onuric to spill the blood of their neighbors and spawn a war across the border with Tanispa. There was very little she could do to prevent it from happening. The Vor’shai were of their own minds. She couldn’t control them or their actions while on Ethrystan ground. Clenching her fists she turned her gaze to the ceiling, cursing silently to herself. Damn him and his vanity. It was sure to be the death of them all.
The air was cold. It burned Edric’s nose with every breath. Each gust of wind added to the bite of the temperature, causing his teeth to chatter uncontrollably. He tried to hide his discomfort. Complaints wouldn’t change anything. Everyone was cold. It was best to suffer in silence than take to whining. Clutching his cloak tighter he pushed onward through the snow, following Callum into the white expanse of emptiness. It had been miles since they last saw a tree or any sign of life. The land was desolate and miserable.
A slight breeze blew past the heavy fabric of his hood, sending a chill along the skin of his neck. How could anyone live here? It was unmanageable. The deeper they moved into the central regions there was no longer a means of growing crops. Only a few frozen lakes where the locals might cut through the ice to gather fish. It was no wonder the Ovatai were so slender. Their diet must be near to nothing. Edric couldn’t fathom it. His stomach grumbled from hunger already just thinking about not having a ready supply of food. Thankfully their supplies would be more than enough to get them through the journey and several weeks on the field. Callum had taken everything into account while preparing for the trip. Edric’s only concern was if the battle took longer than anticipated. They would be short on food to get home. Stop worrying about food. There were more important issues to consider than his stomach.
Occasional chatter could be heard from the men behind them. Edric chose to stay quiet, listening to the stories told by the other soldiers, never joining in. It felt wrong somehow. Callum had barely spoken three words since parting ways with his father at the Sivaerian gates. His voice was only heard when a direction needed to be given, though most of the orders were passed through his commander. Gadiel Taeth. A fine soldier and close friend to both Edric and Callum. Even he was unable to pull conversation from the Captain’s lips in regards to a strategy once they reached the village of the Chief. They were forging ahead blindly in hopes that Callum might rise from his depression before they were in too deep.
Edric let his eyes sweep o
ver the people around him, taking in their pale, frozen faces. From the front of the unit a feminine figure moved forward, coming to walk at Gadiel’s side, her features hidden under the heavy fabric of her cloak. She leaned in to the Commander, whispering something inaudible over the whistling wind. Curious, Edric let his steps angle closer to where Gadiel and the woman walked, his approach not unnoticed by the two.
“Enjoying the weather?” Gadiel chuckled. “We were just discussing how pathetic we are going to look in front of the Ovatai in our layers of fur and fabric.”
“Let them laugh,” Edric shrugged. “If they insult us too much, we can always extend an invitation for them to visit us when the summer is at its height in Tanispa. We’ll see then how well they handle the extreme differences in temperature. Personally, I think it would be entertaining to watch them endure the heat.” At the soft laughter coming from the woman between them Edric tilted his head, peering under the folds of the soldier’s hood. He was surprised to discover a lady in the ranks. It was common amongst the humans in Siscal and Carpaen to boast large numbers of females in the military. Among the Vor’shai it was rare to see a family allow their daughter into such a profession. While they were certainly capable of fighting alongside the men, they tended to keep to less dangerous fields of work for the sake of preserving the family line. “And who might this be, Commander? I don’t believe I’ve met any of our female soldiers.”
“That’s probably because she is only one of a handful. This is my Lieutenant, Sahra Viarthi. Newly appointed, but quite deserving of the position.”
Dipping his head lower Edric squinted to see the woman’s face. She was concealed within the folds of her cloak, the only thing visible was a soft, pleasant smile. “The lady will have to describe herself, else I will not recognize her again. I would hate to be rude and require a second introduction.”
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Three: Crown of Ice Page 19