The Destiny Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

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The Destiny Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 16

by Christine Grey


  “Really! You really mean it? I can help train…uh…train…”

  “Reo. It’s a Breken word. And you can absolutely help. I need you, Royce.”

  “What do I do first, Darius?” Royce wore a serious expression on his face which did little to hide his boyish excitement.

  “Well, mostly he will need to be exercised every day. He’s getting a little fat sitting at my heels all the time. You will need to be very firm with him, Royce. No passing off any bad behavior as simple puppy antics. He’s a wolf, and if we don’t teach him control now, he will become dangerous, and if that happens…” Darius let the sentence trail off so the weight of the consequences would not be lost on the young trainer.

  “I understand, Darius. You can count on me! When can I start?”

  “Right now, if you want. We’ve neglected him too long already. Take him for a good run and let him get to know some of the people. It will be good for him to be exposed to new things. But, Royce, no small children. He can look, but don’t let him too close. He may not understand too well about being gentle, and even a friendly pat from those paws could hurt a little one.”

  “Yes, sir! Come on, Reo! Let’s go!”

  Seeing the nod from Darius and sensing his approval, Reo tore off after Royce, and in full wolf puppy fashion, yipped excitedly the whole way.

  Darius turned toward the ship and looked for Dearra everywhere, but he was unable to find her. When at last he heard her voice he was startled to discover it was coming from above him. His gaze went up, up, and up still higher, until he saw her hanging from the supports holding the ship’s frame in place with her one good arm. She struggled to get a better view of the progress, and his heart dropped straight to his toes.

  “Dearra!” he called, and he really shouldn’t have, for his voice boomed with panic, and startled Dearra, who lost her grip and fell from her precarious perch. Darius caught her, nimbly, in his strong arms, and he felt his heart begin to beat again.

  “Oh! Darius! You startled me!”

  Scared the polish out of me, as well. Fool Breken!

  “What were you thinking? You could have snapped your neck! Are you hurt? Does anything feel broken?”

  The panic in his voice was completely lost on her, and her temper kicked in with a vengeance. “I wouldn’t have fallen at all had you not yelled like that! I have been around ship building before, you know!” Dearra’s face was red with embarrassment and frustration.

  “You could have thought of me. If I return you damaged to your father a second time, he’s not likely to be as forgiving.” Darius felt an embarrassment of his own, knowing he had overreacted and caused the incident.

  Dearra was suddenly aware he was still holding her. Surely he could have set her on her feet by now. His arms were tense, though she knew her weight wouldn’t be enough to cause such strain in his muscles. He held her protectively close, and she had a suspicion it was fear for her safety that was causing him to hold himself so rigidly. The revelation came as a pleasant surprise, and she found herself blushing with pleasure as he continued to hold her. It was really too bad he just wanted to be friends, she thought to herself.

  Yeah right…friends.

  What did that mean, she wondered, and why did Darius suddenly have that confused look on his face.

  “Uh, Darius? You can let me down now.”

  “Oh, right,” he said. “I am sorry, Dearra. You’re right; I shouldn’t have called out like that. It was foolish.”

  “It’s alright, Darius. Without dwelling on ancient history, I did warn you I would give you plenty of reasons to be annoyed with me. I think I just proved my point. I knew my arm was still weak from my injury. I was the foolish one for climbing so high without the full use of both hands.”

  Her ability to go from flashing anger to gentle dove was one of the things he adored about her. He thought he could spend the next thousand years enjoying the feisty little warrior and still not be bored. She was enchanting, and he relished every moment he spent in her company.

  Oh for Tolah’s sake! I can’t stand this, Dearra.

  What is it, Brin? she thought, genuinely confused.

  Nothing. Let’s just go, shall we?

  “I guess we could check on the preparations for the feast,” Dearra said. “I think we’ve had enough of ship building for one day.”

  “Alright, Dearra. I think you’re right.”

  “Uh, Darius?”

  “Yes, Dearra?” he said.

  “You’re still holding me.”

  “Oh! Right! Sorry! Sorry!” He lowered her gently, but reluctantly so, back to her feet.

  Chapter 17

  October 15 was Harvest Celebration, a time to give thanks for the bounty the gods had given the people of Maj over the last year. Not only did this mean the crops that would feed them through the winter, but also the babies who had been born since the previous year’s celebration.

  This year’s celebration was marred by the terrible abduction of Phillip, but the people of Maj were not ones to bury themselves in self-pity and misery. Though they keenly felt Pip’s absence, they also knew they were working toward his return. They had a plan in place, and preparations were under way. They simply needed to complete those plans and be patient until the seasons gave way to spring. The people of Maj had no doubt they would succeed. Phillip was one of them, and they would never abandon one of their own to the Breken, or anyone else, for that matter. And so they bided their time, and continued to honor their ancient traditions.

  Darius sat in the Great Hall, glancing up every few seconds to look for Dearra.

  Reo, sensing his master’s tension and seeing Dearra’s face reflected in his mind, paced between Darius and the entrance to the hall, whimpering in sympathy.

  Daniel looked on as Darius grew more and more agitated until he finally took pity on the Breken warrior, strolling to the table and taking the seat across from him.

  Darius nodded a quick greeting and returned to his expectant watch.

  Though he thought he already knew the answer, Daniel asked, “Waiting for someone?”

  Never one to mince words, Darius responded, “Yes. Dearra should have been here by now.”

  “Darius,” Daniel said. He paused, waiting for the man to respond. When he didn’t, Daniel continued. “Darius? Darius!”

  “What? Sorry, Daniel, I’m a bit distracted.”

  “Yes, I got that. She’s not coming.”

  “Okay. I mean…wait…what?”

  “I said, she’s not coming, Darius. Today is Harvest Celebration.”

  “I know. It’s all she talks about. I thought she would want an early start to the day’s activities.”

  “Darius, there are no activities until this afternoon when everyone gathers for the meal. After that we will have dancing, singing, poetry and any number of games for the children. You really haven’t noticed, have you?”

  Darius looked the weapons master in the eye for the first time since the conversation had begun and asked, “Noticed what? Is something wrong?”

  “Look around you, boy! Do you see any women or even girls?”

  He did look around then, and saw only men lounging about, many of which he had never seen before and could only assume they came from the farmsteads in the area, men who normally took their meals in their homes rather than in the Great Hall. Concern flickered across his face for a moment, and then was gone when he realized that if there were any danger, Daniel would not likely be sitting there passing the time of day with him. “Well, then, where is she? I mean, they. Where are all the women?”

  “This is the day we celebrate the bounty and fertility of the land and people. Today the women cast aside their weapons and armor in favor of ribbons and silk. They hide themselves away as they primp and preen, and at the start of the feast, they enter the hall, and wait for the complete attention and adoration of the Men of Maj, and they’ll get it. We get so used to fighting and working beside them, that sometimes it’s easy to forget they
are women. On this day, they get to show off a bit, and they couldn’t have a more appreciative audience. The men dress up a bit, too—not quite as fancy as the ladies, mind you—but without it they won’t let us get near them in their silks, clean or not. I know; believe me, I’ve tried.”

  “Well, I have nothing else to wear, so I guess that lets me off the hook,” Darius said. He grinned his triumph. At least he wouldn’t have to parade around in finery for everyone to gape at him.

  Daniel laughed aloud. “You think that, do you? Didn’t Dearra say she was going to have clothing made for you when she gave you the cast offs you wear now?”

  “Well, yes, but I assumed she never had time with all that happened.”

  “Never assume, boy, not where women are concerned, and never when it involves Dearra. I’m sure she had weavers on it before she even told you of her plans.”

  “Yes, but…well…surely she wasn’t thinking of dress clothes.”

  “You think whatever gives you comfort, Darius, but remember what I told you about women.” Daniel chuckled, stood, and left Darius to stew.

  It was still early, and Darius decided he may as well take Reo out for a walk to pass the time. As he stood to leave the hall, Royce ran to his side.

  “Are we going to do some more training?” Royce’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm for the task.

  “Sure, Royce. We can take him out and see if we can curb his excitement for squirrels. It might be amusing to watch, but he’ll need to be better behaved if he’s to travel with me to Parsaia.”

  Royce’s face fell at Darius’s words. “You’re taking him with you?”

  Darius nodded. “I may need him for what we have planned. I know he’s your friend, but you wouldn’t want to keep him here if it meant less of a chance at saving Pip, would you?”

  “No, it’s just that…even the wolf gets to go.” His shoulders slumped at the thought of being left behind.

  Darius reached out a sympathetic hand and ruffled the sandy brown hair on the boy’s head. “Your time will come, Royce. Someday you’ll have your chance at adventure. But remember this: adventure isn’t always all you think it will be. Sometimes it’s frightening, even terrifying. If that time comes and you can still do what needs to be done though it takes all of your courage and strength, then you will know you are a man; you will know there’s nothing you can’t do.”

  “Aw, Darius, you’re teasing me. You would never be afraid of anything.”

  Darius thought back to the long, horrible nights when Dearra lay in her bed, still and pale, and near to death. “Every man is afraid of something, Royce. It’s about overcoming that fear, not letting it rule you. You’ll likely know what I mean someday.”

  “First Daniel, now you. I wish grown-ups would stop saying that to me.”

  Darius laughed at the forlorn look on the boy’s face, and he and Royce walked out of the keep with Reo. For now, training the exuberant puppy was enough of a challenge to occupy them, and growing up and facing the challenges of manhood seemed a million years away for the young Royce.

  ***

  “Sit still! Dearra, you’re impossible!” Carly said. She had been trying to get the mass of hair on Dearra’s head to cooperate for near an hour, but Dearra’s constant squirming wasn’t helping her efforts. “I’m never going to get it right, now!”

  “I just want to know what you’re doing. Every year you come up with a style more elaborate than the year before, and I end up looking like some over fluffed courtier.”

  “Fine, then,” Carly said, clearly put out at the lack of appreciation for her hard work. “You can just go natural with your silly braid hanging like a rope down your back, for all I care.”

  “Oh, Carly, don’t say that. You know I want to look perfect for Harvest Celebration. This year is really important to me. Some people have never seen me dressed up, and I want to look…nice.”

  “Very subtle, Dearra. ‘Some people’? I couldn’t begin to guess who you mean.

  “Let’s think for a moment, shall we? Now, who on this island might not have seen you at Harvest Celebration before? I’m at a complete loss, really, I am.”

  Dearra laughed, and lightly cuffed her friend on the arm. “Alright, alright, you win. I guess it was pretty obvious. I want to look nice for Darius. We may just be friends, but a girl can dream. If he never gets to see me except when I look like a mud-spattered boy, how is he going to know I can actually look okay with a little effort?”

  Carly came around to sit on the bed in front of her friend and took both of Dearra’s hands in hers. “Dearra, you always say things like that. Don’t you know that even if you were covered head to toe in mud, you would still be the prettiest girl on the island?”

  “Stop it, Carly. Are you my friend or not? Why do you tease me when I am already so nervous? You’ve got to help me, or I will end up going ‘natural’, with just my braid, as usual.”

  Carly sighed and shook her head. Dearra would never believe she was pretty; it was a lost cause trying to get it through her stubborn head.

  “Natural! That’s it! We’ll leave you natural!” Carly’s voice trilled in excitement.

  “No, Carly, I can’t wear the braid! Not today!”

  “Don’t be an idiot, Dearra. I’m not letting you out of this room with a braid. Hang on; sit right there.” Carly bolted off the bed and made for the sack of supplies she had brought with her. Ribbons of every color and size flew in all directions at once as she went through it. Bits of lace were cast aside, and fine chains of silver were dropped haphazardly as Carly dug her way to the bottom of the bag. When she lifted her hands from the bag at last, she pulled out a package wrapped in fine linen, and skipped back to the bed.

  “What is it? Let me see.”

  “Be patient, now, or I shall change my mind, and you can have your dratted braid.”

  It was a hard thing, but Dearra sat patiently and quietly as Carly ripped out every tie and hair pin she had just spent the better part of an hour putting in. The hair that had been piled so exquisitely into complicated shapes and elaborate curls, tumbled down Dearra’s back. Carly lifted the brush and used long strokes to smooth the curls that had been made with fire heated rods, until it cascaded over her shoulders in a silky sheet of soft waves and ripples. Dearra could hear Carly unwrap the mystery object, though she could not see it. Carly parted Dearra’s hair expertly, and swept it back from her face. Dearra felt cool metal slip onto her head and stood to look in the mirror. The delicate filigree on her head was of the finest silver and had been well cared for. There was no hint of tarnish to be seen, and it shimmered and sparkled as the early afternoon light hit it. Intricately woven, it gave the impression of a vine of dew covered wild flowers that had been laced into her hair to hold it gently back from her face.

  “Oh, Carly,” Dearra whispered in awe. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It was my Nanna’s. She left it to me to wear on my joining day. I don’t foresee that ever happening, so I brought it along to see how I would look in it, but it never sits quite right on my head. Probably because I am so small.”

  “Oh, Carly. I couldn’t!” Dearra said in protest. She reached up to remove the lovely ornament.

  “Don’t you dare! If you think I am going through all of that work again, you have lost your mind! Besides, it’s perfect. You can’t deny it. Everyone else will be curled and bound and with tons of ribbon and hanging ornaments in their hair, and you, with your hair left to hang loose and just that one adornment, will outshine them all.” Carly saw Dearra look at her reflection once more. All she needed was one more gentle nudge, and she knew she would have her. “You do want to look nice for Darius, don’t you?”

  That did it. Dearra’s hands slid back to her sides and a smile spread across her face.

  “That’s settled then. Now, for the dress!”

  “Let me see yours first, Carly.”

  “Alright. I worked on this all year. I hope you like it.” Carly unwrapped the large, flat
bundle resting next to her now plundered bag of hair ornaments, and held the dress up for Dearra to see. Instead of the more typical silk favored for such occasions, Carly’s dress was a rich, autumn red velvet. The neckline was higher than was normal, probably because Carly hadn’t been ‘cursed’ with the same curves as Dearra. Instead of trying to accentuate what wasn’t there, Carly had decided to leave the neck cut higher so it scooped just enough to show her creamy complexion. She’d elaborately embroidered the bodice with gold thread, and tucked the waist in gently, so the long skirt flowed from it and skimmed the floor at her toes. There was also a small, scoop train that would follow behind her as she walked. The sleeves puffed slightly at the shoulders and hung long, stopping at the wrist. The skirt of the dress was the same fabric as the top, but instead of being embroidered it was left plain. She would wear little slippers of the same velvet as the dress, embroidered to match.

  “It’s stunning, Carly! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

  “Father got the material from one of the traders who came last summer. There wasn’t time to make it over for last year’s celebration.”

  “What are you going to do with your hair? Did you want to try it loose like mine?”

  “No chance! I’m piling it as high as it will go. Maybe it will make me look taller.” Carly giggled. “Okay, now yours, Dearra.”

  “My dress seems rather ordinary, now. I have some special silk I saved for the dress, but nothing as unusual as yours. I didn’t make the dress myself, either. Emmaline made it for me. I told her what I wanted and how I wanted it put together, so I guess I can’t even blame her if the design isn’t very good.”

  “Just get the dress, Dearra. I’ll be an old woman before I get to see it at this rate.”

  “Alright,” Dearra sighed, and opened her bundle. The dress was made of light blue silk that shimmered, so even in the light of day it looked like moonlight reflecting on ice. The neckline on Dearra’s gown swept so low that after trying it on for the first time, Dearra thought Emmaline she might have made a miscalculation in the cut, but she had clapped her hands in glee and declared it perfect. What else could Dearra do? It wasn’t like Emmaline could sew it back together once it had been cut. At least, that’s what Emmaline told her. The silk stopped at the top of the shoulder. Loose, see through sleeves of chiffon, dyed to match the dress, and swept gracefully to the wrist where they were fitted snuggly with a band of silver ribbon. The waist of Dearra’s gown was cut high, and another band of silver ribbon wrapped around her just under the bust line where it tied with a small bow. Two long strands were left to hang low over the skirt. The ice blue silk skirt hung to the ground and would brush softly against the stone floors of the keep as she moved. Over top of the skirt was another layer of the dyed-to-match chiffon that whispered against the silk as it moved, and was cut a bit longer in the back to give the effect of an almost transparent train. There were no beads, lace, or embroidery to distract from the simple perfection of the garment.

 

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