I can’t say which is more irritated but I’ll lay money on Havoc, Victory replied.
Gambling with a horse is a new low on vices, Avalanche replied in amusement, his ears twitching at the thought and Victory chuckled despite his effort to remain silent.
“You find something amusing about this?” Havoc demanded, half turning in his saddle. Waving a hand violently the Firym cleared the fog surrounding him enough to get a clear look at Victory. “I’m serious, Victory. The Rivasans are a bloody abomination. They should be wiped out. They call themselves masters of flames. They corrupt flames, Victory. They wouldn’t know true fire if I set them on bloody fire. I would cheer the Delvay on gladly if they would eliminate Hellfire from this world.”
“Bloodless revolution, Havoc,” Victory reminded him, gently wishing fervently that he hadn’t chuckled aloud. He knew how sincere Havoc’s words were and provoking him further was the last thing he wanted to do.
“That’s never going to happen and you and I both know it, Vic,” Havoc grumbled, turning back heavily in his saddle. His horse snorted in protest and shook its head, steam blowing from its nostrils. Victory watched the animal silently as the diameter of melted snow widened around it and the fog bank grew once more. The description of hot-tempered suited the Firym and their mounts quite well he decided.
Sighing, he glanced ahead at their progress up the mountain. Halfway, if he estimated it correctly. The three peaks were certainly closer but the climb was anything but easy for the horses, so it would go slow. There was a reason the Delvay chose to use snow cats. This climb was impossible for a typical horse. Fortunately neither of these horses was typical. Still, he had little enough time for Havoc to calm down before they arrived. If he, in fact, should calm him down. Really he wasn’t sure. There was no doubt they would be challenged at the gate and the Delvay believed in survival of the fittest. If he let Havoc tear into the sentries in a full blown rage it might get them in to see Lord Delvayon sooner. Of course, he wasn’t certain he could stop Havoc at simply incapacitating the sentries, and Lord Delvayon would likely frown on dead men at his gate.
“You know Morcaillo will never surrender. It will be war, and half of our lords are tied up with the Blights now. Lutheron says the Blights are in Faydwer now and he expects them to infest the Scarlet Jungle next. Have you noticed how they only seem to be affecting our side of things?” Havoc grumbled.
“It may not be bloodless, Havoc, but let’s not have it be said it was because we didn’t try everything we could to make it so,” Victory replied calmly.
“What if we talk Delvay down and the Rivasans attack them anyway?” Havoc demanded.
“We have someone speaking with the Rivasans, as well,” Victory reminded him with a sigh.
“Like the bloody Rivasans will keep their word. They will wait till Delvay is unprepared and attack,” Havoc spat back, his tone disgusted. “Fuck the Rivasans. I say we help Delvay burn them out,” he added with far too much enthusiasm.
“Havoc,” Victory warned patiently, and the Firym lowered his voice and continued to mutter to himself.
“Are you really letting a pixie talk you out of a good fight Jani? Did you lose your balls when you got your tattoos?” A mocking feminine voice called from above them.
Looking up sharply, Victory searched the area, his eyes finally coming to rest on a slender blond woman perched comfortably in a tree limb not fifteen feet from where they rode. She wore hunting leathers that were faded and patched with a pair of wickedly long daggers strapped to her belt. Her gaze was locked on Havoc and the Firym’s back had noticeably stiffened. “Jani?” Victory asked in confusion, turning his gaze toward Havoc as well.
“Please don’t tell me you are one of their sentinels? Did they run out of scouts that were actually worth paying?” Havoc asked, as his gaze slowly turned to regard the woman, his expression incredulous.
“You didn’t know I was here,” she countered with a smirk.
“I did. I just didn’t think you were worth acknowledging,” Havoc replied and pointed a hand back behind them. “Your cat is back down the trail on the right hidden in the brace of pines near the cliff wall,” he added smugly.
The woman’s expression faltered slightly, losing its confidence as she glanced back down the trail and then back to him. With a sigh, she dropped from the tree and approached his horse shaking her head. “How did you know where he was? I approached from the opposite direction. There were no tracks.” Her tone seemed friendly now as she stopped by the Flame Steed and rested a hand on Havoc’s saddle.
“Razor smelled him and started snorting when we passed,” Havoc explained and smiled at her.
“You two know each other?” Victory asked, knowing the question was obviously a stupid one but unsure how else to prod them into remembering his presence.
“Jani and I go back. You, I know as well. The pixie that is talented with a lance,” she said with a smirk and glanced back at Havoc. “Let me get my cat and I’ll escort you to the Sisters,” she said and disappeared back into the pines.
“Sisters?” Victory asked, feeling more lost in the conversation by the moment.
“It’s what they call the peaks. The Three Sisters,” Havoc explained as he edged his horse into motion again.
“Aren’t we going to wait on her?” Victory asked, glancing back behind them for any sign of the woman.
“Kes? No she can catch up,” Havoc chuckled, shaking his head as if the very thought of waiting was a joke.
“So Jani?” Victory pressed once more.
“Don’t make me kill you Vic, she can call me that, you can’t,” Havoc snapped, adjusting his seat in the saddle once more as Razor plowed through another snow bank.
“Why can she call you that?” Victory asked, wondering how far he could push the Firym.
“Because Jani and I were betrothed once upon a time,” Kes called from behind him. Victory turned to regard her in disbelief as she approached. Her Snow cat bounded easily across the rough terrain and she slowed it beside him. “That expression on your face is beautiful,” she snickered and looked ahead. “Did you never tell him you were betrothed Jani?” she called ahead, her voice filled with amusement.
“Didn’t seem important enough to bring up. It’s the past. We aren’t betrothed anymore. From what I hear you are married now, with children,” Havoc called back, never taking his eyes from the trail ahead of them.
“One child, he is nine this year,” she corrected and sighed. “Father saw me married not two moons after you took your damn tattoos. I think he was afraid we might have been a bit too close of friends.”
“Thought I left you with a bastard in the belly and became a brigand eh?” Havoc asked sourly. “Well he never did think too much of me. I suppose I shouldn’t find it surprising.”
She shrugged and flicked a gaze toward Victory. “You are a brigand too, then?” she asked nonchalantly.
“No, I am not a brigand. I do not rob, murder, rape or pillage as brigands do. I am a Fionaveir. I protect those who cannot defend themselves, despite the guidelines of the law,” Victory replied a bit indignantly.
“Prickly isn’t he?” she called ahead to Havoc, raising a slender blond eyebrow at Victory.
“No, he is the diplomatic one. You simply found a nerve and danced a jig on it. Fionaveir do not consider themselves brigands, Kes,” Havoc replied.
She chuckled in response and offered Victory a shrug in what might have been an apology. “You should have let me know you were coming. I would have brought cats for you both so you didn’t have to struggle up the mountain on your mules,” she called, as Razor let out another snort and broke through a drift. Her eyes danced between the two of them as they glared at her and she let loose a peel of merry laughter. With a huge smile she stroked her cat’s neck and glanced over at Avalanche. “That’s the same one I saw you ride in Sanctuary isn’t it? He has to be ancient by now. I’m surprised he is able to climb the mountains at all.”
�
�He is not the typical horse,” Victory responded as politely as he could. Though between the mule comment and then insulting Avalanche, directly he was finding it a strain.
“There was the other nerve,” Havoc muttered over his shoulder.
“You didn’t mind the mule comment?” she asked looking toward Havoc in surprise.
“I know you are baiting my temper,” he replied, his tone as calm as Victory had ever heard him.
“And it doesn’t seem to be working at all,” Kes replied a bit indignantly.
“I’ll fight if I want to, not for your entertainment. If you want a show, go to Sanctuary and watch Finn,” Havoc returned.
“Little Finn? Our fine fighting monkey?” Kes asked and broke into laughter once more.
“What?” Victory asked in confusion as Havoc began laughing as well.
Kes shook her head and composed herself and looked to Victory smiling. “He didn’t tell you that story, either? Oh, that’s one of my favorites,” she said with a sigh.
“No, he hasn’t,” Victory replied, glancing toward Havoc and then back to her again.
“My brother hated Jani and was rather open about it before we were officially betrothed. Jani ignored him for the most part until my brother eventually cornered him and demanded a duel. Kadan didn’t understand that Firym don’t duel like we do. When the Delvay duel it is a show of skill and there is a lot of bluster but very little death. When the Firym duel there is very little bluster and a whole lot of death. So Jani mocked him and refused to duel and made a remark that a monkey with a salad fork could best Kadan and he wasn’t worth drawing steel for.” She paused, fighting back another wave of laughter. “So Jani said he would prove it and the next time he visited he brought a cute little monkey with him. Everyone in the village knew about it at this point so the crowd was immense. My brother blustered and warned Jani that if he didn’t end the charade he will soon have a dead monkey. Jani just simply nodded and handed the little monkey a fork.” Her words were getting harder to understand as the laughter grew once more.
“So my monkey proceeded to bounce from wall to wall dodging between legs, running up his back, and stabbing Kadan at every possible opportunity. By the time the fiasco was over my monkey was out of breath and Kadan was bleeding from dozens of fork wounds,” Havoc finished with a smile. “Kes is the only one that I let in on the joke, though. Everyone else believes it was truly just a trained monkey,” he added with a chuckle.
“My mother laughed so hard from the monkey that beer came out her nose,” Kes said, her voice still filled with laughter. “It was barely three days after that incident that she approved Jani’s suit for my hand, and then the bastard joined the Fionaveir.” The laughter died and she gave a heavy sigh, shaking her head at Havoc who in turn ignored her.
“How in the hell did you convince Finn to allow himself to be transformed into a monkey?” Victory asked in disbelief. He was curious about the betrothal as well, but knew Havoc well enough to leave the topic alone.
“I blackmailed him,” Havoc replied with a shrug. “Needless to say Kadan will not be pleased to see me, but I’ll refrain from reminding him publicly that a monkey defeated him in a duel.”
“Wait, Kadandelvayan?” Victory asked as the name at last sank in.
“That would be the one,” Havoc agreed with a smirk.
“You are the High Lord’s daughter?” Victory asked, looking toward Kes with a raised eyebrow.
“Adopted, but yes. My father was a favored warrior of Lord Delvayon. When he died fighting the Rivasans, the Lord adopted me and took my mother in,” Kes explained. “That’s probably something I should warn you about, Jani. You won’t talk my father down, Kadan either. Not that Kadan would be likely to listen to you anyway. The Rivasans have been pushing us for a while. Personally I think that after you speak with my house you won’t want to talk them down anymore, either one of you.”
“Why would we abandon our mission of peace?” Victory asked. He wasn’t sure what she meant about the Rivasans’ pushing them, but that answer could wait until he spoke with the High Lord. As far as he understood from his history lessons, war between these two nations was as common as snow in the winter. The reason could be as simple as an insult between the houses and they would war over it. He couldn’t fathom a reason he would be drawn into the nonsense, though, not with the current troubles the world already faced. The matter with the Blights outweighed personal insult as far as he was concerned.
“Because the Rivasans have your envoy. Our spies reported his capture last night. He didn’t make it thirty miles into the land before they had him, and from the reports they are not playing nicely with him,” Kes replied, her words pulling him back from his contemplation like the crack of a whip.
Victory frowned heavily and Avalanche slowed to a stop. “Havoc, do you realize who they sent into Rivasa?” he asked.
Slowing his own horse Havoc turned in his saddle and studied Victory’s expression carefully. “By the look on your face, it’s bad,” he said with a sigh.
“They sent Remedy in. Symphony will have to be warned of this,” Victory replied.
“Bloody, buggering hell. Of all the damned agents they could send they pick the single one our future Empress is in love with.” Havoc sighed heavily and nodded thanks to Kes. “Thank you for letting us know. This does indeed change things. Looks like I will get to kill some Rivasans after all.” He kept the excitement out of his tone but Victory didn’t miss the large smile growing on his face as he turned back in the saddle once more.
With an inward sigh of his own, he prepared a mental link with Symphony and tried to think of the gentlest way to break the news to her. The Fionaveir were despised in Rivana. Remedy had taken a huge risk by accepting the mission and had likely already paid for it with his life. The Rivana justice system worked with swift efficiency.
He could see the twin gates of Valemuir looming ahead of them in the distance. He had perhaps two miles remaining to determine exactly what his approach was going to be with High Lord Rendelvayan. He would have to have his plan set by the time they arrived. Rendelvayan wasn’t known for his patience. Symphony had sent him to make peace, but with Remedy held prisoner or possibly dead, those plans would most certainly change.
Chapter 18
Gaelyn
Shade balanced himself carefully on top of the cage, the thick bundle of meat tucked precariously under one arm. Taking care to watch his footing, he moved to the center of the thick black bars and examined his prizes below. The trap was a rough one to be sure, but by his count he had captured close to twenty goblins despite that fact.
The creatures milled below him snarling and growling up at him. They were quite possibly the ugliest creatures on Sanctuary he decided. The tallest in the cage stood perhaps three and a half feet tall and was an impressive specimen for the race. It’s muscular body was thick and the ink black skin was slick with oil. The creature paced below him, it’s small black eyes locked on him and glittering with malice. A low growl began to emanate from the goblin as Shade studied it and it gnashed it’s oversized fangs in frustration as it crouched to jump.
“I don’t think so, buddy,” Shade warned, and adjusted himself to a better balance. The creatures were small in size but fierce in nature. If he lost his balance now they would tear him apart before he could even consider using a spell. Lowering the package carefully he balanced it across his knees and unfolded the cloth. It had taken him nearly an hour to prepare the meat with the alchemical surprise inside.
The largest creature caught the scent of blood and began to snarl louder, stretching it’s hands toward the ceiling in a vain attempt to reach him or the package. Shade regarded the talons inches from his foot and frowned at the goblin. “So, patience isn’t a strong virtue. Got it,” he muttered and dropped a large chunk of meat to the creature.
It dove for the morsel as did several others. Within moments, they were locked in combat with one another, little black bodies flailing with
talons and fangs flashing. Shaking his head with a sigh he quickly began dropping more meat into the cage hoping they would give up the fight over the first morsel at the sight of more food.
“We have a problem,” Charm’s voice came from beside the ship. Shade glanced up from the fight and regarded the rogue with a raised eyebrow. He hadn’t heard him approach, but then that was nothing new. He never heard Charm approach. “The Rivasans have captured our envoy,” Charm explained, his gaze going briefly to the goblin’s squabble.
“My money is on the little one with the scar down his back. Nasty little bugger,” Shade said and rose slowly. With careful steps he made his way to the edge of the cage and dropped down lightly to the ground. “I’m not sure who they sent to Rivana, but it was a foolish thing to do. There was no way they would listen to a Fionaveir.”
“He was traveling in secret to speak with Lord Hexian,” Charm explained with a sigh.
“Gee, I wonder if the villagers turned him in?” Shade said dryly as he began to wipe the blood from the meat off his hands. “Look, I’m sorry, Charm, but your friend is likely dead. The Rivana law is rather brutal.”
Charm ignored the jibe and continued. “I believe you met the envoy before we left the Fionahold, his name is Remedy,” he said. Shade slowed in his task and dropped the cloth onto the wing of his ship.
“The incredibly nice one with minty breath,” Shade said with a slow nod.
“The incredibly nice councilor with minty breath,” Charm corrected.
“Do you have any indication that he might still be alive?” Shade asked with a hint of hope in his voice. In truth, he had liked the man a great deal. Remedy had been kind and easy to speak to. The more important aspect however was that it had been obvious how much Symphony had liked the man.
The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams Page 27