Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

by Williams, Tess

  I thought of Taiper's watchfulness, his thoughtful replies—then Molec's temper, and smiled to myself. "That will be well for Akadia in this state," I said. "And Lucian as well."

  It was another moment; I could hear people off behind us, around us, but there were so many of them, here, in Akadia, that it was not possible to greet them all. There was nothing, at least, between Amalia and I and the lake past the edge of the walls.

  "And what of you, Ellia?" Amalia spoke. "Have you decided when you will return to Shaundakul? How you will lead it? You could be coroneted here, along with Taiper, if you should like; I do not think that it would be opposed, and so your people are here also."

  "No," I replied, short, then ducked my head. My voice was not strong with it.

  Amalia watched me, then added, "Do you know, that when my son first returned from Shaundakul... that when he first returned from Uldin Keep, with Lox, where it had been attacked, he came telling me about you? That he had found the princess of Shaundakul, all on his own by chance?"

  I switched my gaze to her. She did not sound unhappy, and when I saw her face, it was bright as well, watching the sky, then me.

  "He told me... that day you all came to the square. He even pointed you out to me."

  "He couldn't have known then already," I replied, lightly. Not that I hadn't ever suspected as much.

  "Oh, he didn't only guess it. He was certain. I tried to tell him, myself, that it was far too far-fetched of a thing. I told him it was only the way your people must all behave."

  I smiled wide, thinking of instructing him about —out in the desert, refusing to be let free.

  "His mind wouldn't be changed. And so he put himself to watching over you..." Amalia paused, pressing her lips. "I hope I've never made you think, Ellia..... I am sorry that he is gone, that it happened in such a way. But I've never thought that it was to your blame. He was right in doing what he did to protect you. And I do not regret, now, what he did to oppose Lox either. Or maybe it's just that it couldn't be changed either way."

  She looked back at the water.

  She was right; it couldn't be changed. Nothing could. Everything that was, was as it would be. Forever. Lox was gone, so there was no longer any vital driving force; I had no driving force, pushing me on to a goal. I had only the choices ahead of me, and a lifetime of ruling.

  "You asked what I would do concerning Shaundakul," I said to Amalia.

  She didn't turn to watch me. I imagined she might already know what I would say—hadn't that been why she'd mentioned Tobias?

  "There are not many of them left," I said, thinking of that time I'd spent searching them out. They had not all collected together, because so many of them had known better those men and women they'd worked with for this past time in Akadia, than others of their own countrymen, that they might have only passed in the streets altogether their whole lives. It was not as if I could raise up my hand and say, yes, all people of Shaundakul to me, let us walk on back home now, and continue about our lives. "There aren't enough to run Shaundakul the way that it once was run," I continued to Amalia. "And there are fewest of those that knew what was to be done. The elders... life below was too difficult for them. And the strong men... they died so many on the battlefield."

  Amalia remained silent.

  I watched a chimera move from one end of the granted mountain to another, then stretching down to rest, watching the sun. I thought of Kraehe, and how the dragons would now be gone.

  "Do you think it would be evil of me to want to rest for a time," I added, my chest high, as if I needed to hold my breath, even to get this out. And yet, I didn't expect there was anything else for it. Could I go now? Would I be ready? Would it be any good? "Lucian has said, that they will not drive any that wish to, to leave. Not that I think my people wouldn't want to return to our country eventually; I just don't believe, that they might be ready now. So they could stay, and help rebuild this land."

  "And would you stay?" Amalia asked.

  I looked over at her. In my mind, I saw those images, I'd already conjured, travelling to Genbu, then Echren, then Kanth, then Byako, with Cole and Minstrel. But these, I knew, were not true hopes.

  I shook my head.

  Amalia smiled. "I do not think that I should stay very long in Akadia either. Only so long as Lucian... would you like to return to Yanartas with Luffie?" she asked.

  I nodded. I could feel my determination of anything else flagging now.

  Amalia's features, turned from a frown, to a mournful smile. She stretched one hand out towards me, then touched my hair. Everything in her gaze said that she saw me as only a child. I remembered the way which Cole had looked at me, that night before the battle, making it clear he saw me as a woman who needed to be protected, not one who might go off after Lox alone; and I'd shouted at him, that he only made me weaker doing that. Now I wondered whether it was simply the truth of me, which they saw. If Cole had not come... I would not have been able to kill Lox. It had been too much on my own.

  "Dear girl," Amalia said, moving closer, so to hold me against her, her chin above my head. "It would not be too evil. All things come in time."

  CYRIC:

  The coronation had probably not been such a grim event as it had seemed to me. I'd likely been adversely affected by, firstly, the pain still to my body, and secondly, Ellia's imminent departure following the event.

  For the first... It was something about Kraehe, I supposed, that she had the ability to knock me out of service so thoroughly. There wasn't much of that first night, I could remember, and by the next day, Slark was there, having found—and moved on to fawning over—me. I'd nearly set myself ill again, making sure he didn't give me away to the whole ward, and then another day it had taken to explain to him why everyone but him knew me as Cole. Ellia, had visited, me not very often—but I thought that had been for the sake of my request from her; not that my face, was often uncovered, but other parts of me... Even though there were hundreds of Akadians who might recognize my face, I didn't fear anyone but her to recognize me elsewhere. Anyways, she'd come enough for me to tell that she'd hoped I would be well enough for the coronation, and so I'd made sure that I was, whether I truly was or not.

  And it had been there, mid-way through hearing about Taiper (that boy I'd already known of, and suspected to be the eldest of Molec's sons) that Ellia had let me know she would be leaving along with the chimera, back to Yanartas, that very night.

  I'd been displeased to say the least, at first, and then confused, and then very suddenly, not displeased at all, realizing that I could easily go there with her. But then she'd asked that I instead, ride back with Minstrel, if I was to come. Not only because of Luffie's exhaustion (she, nor the other chimera, were very rightly in a state to be carrying any extra weight). But also, because she worried for Minstrel going alone.

  "But you know, Cole," she added, weakly, "You don't have to come if you don't mean to. You can stay here in Akadia, or return to Kanth. I don't... think that I will be ready to travel at all."

  And I'd frowned at her, thinking how I'd never thought she would be able to really; wondered a little, that she meant to return to Yanartas, but not thinking I should ask it then. Also thinking of the crown I still kept, and whether I should return it to her, or when, or how. But in actuality, I'd only remained silent, staring at her. Then answered, "I'll ride back with Minstrel."

  So, I'd been a little grim to watch her go, but now that Minstrel and I were along our way, it wasn't so terrible. It wasn't a bad thing, to have ahead the prospect of seeing Ellia in a few days' time, then being with her in Yanartas. There were so many things, as well, about the battle, and the days following, still roaming through my mind—even concerns over the future—so I didn't mind the time to set those things straight so that I might be there for her concerns. The sky was all greyness, as it always seemed in Karatel, and while we'd originally planned to leave with a group of Byakoans, Minstrel and I had both woken early and decided to be off
by dawn. They would likely overtake us soon at any rate; we didn't have horses.

  There was one, I was leading, by "Amalia's" request—or at least that was what I'd told Minstrel, and what I planned to tell Ellia. I'd asked Amalia at least, so... it would probably never be a problem if Ellia asked about it. Anyways, the horse was Fauna, Tobias's white mare, with the chocolate eyes, and blonde mane. I wasn't riding her, since I never would do that. And Minstrel wasn't one, according to himself, for riding either. The both of us had shirked the idea of taking a wagon. Now, we walked along the grass, beside the road.

  "Oh, the melancholy of war," Minstrel spoke suddenly—but in that high-pitched sing-song way, and with his little hands stretching out easily, and his eyes to the sky. "Should it ever feel victorious to enact a victory?" He balled his hand to a fist, his expression firm, but then suddenly, it dropped to something plain, looking up and over at me. "Isn't it always that battles leave one so terribly winsome."

  I gave him a smile. In the grey sky light, his skin was pale and soft as ever, while mine was darkly tanned from that full day of racing through the city, then rough as ever for the exertion of it, the climbing and so on; we were a fine pair, for certain, if travelers passed. "I... can't say that I know what winsome means," I put to Minstrel, "But... I'd prefer it as well if battles didn't come."

  "Ah, to rhyming. Bravo, Bravo, dear Cole." Minstrel clapped, while I winced.

  "Though, it didn't really rhyme, did it?"

  He waved off a hand, his little fingers wiggling. "Rhymes are an objective thing. Have I told you that hymn of mine which I first spoke to charm the sea creatures to bring us to the Isle? That did not rhyme, in the regular way." He sighed, his whole body, lifting then, dropping. "It was a song of Ellia, as my dear friend."

  "So everyone is jealous of you," I recalled, "because you knew her first."

  Minstrel smiled up at me. I was wearing a half-smirk. Fauna was following easily behind, and not even wearing a saddle to be ridden. From Tobias's age, I would have estimated that she was an old horse, something he'd gotten when he'd gained his rank, maybe. But by her walk, even now, she did not reflect that. Now that I thought of it, she had done fair to well passing through the Ghaundian Crag, behind Tosch.

  Tosch... he was not far off.

  "Do you know what she means by returning to Yanartas, Minstrel?" I asked, rather seriously. Only, with Minstrel, it was never too serious, at least not in that grim way. It could be meaningful, without being sad.

  He wagged his head, but then answered in the affirmative. "Hasn't she been after Lox for long, now? Wasn't he the closest of those remaining to her dear friend? She will grieve."

  "Grieve Lox?" I ignored the knotting in my chest, my stomach. To think about grief, as it had to do with me, and that I might relieve her of it... It wasn't true, what he said, that Lox was the last of those who'd been close to me, was it? I was.

  "She went clear from losing her dear country, father, to her dear friend, to fighting for her people; fighting against Lox," Minstrel replied in a sigh—but still with his voice high-pitched, and sing-song, "Now that they are free, and that that evil one is gone.... won't she have time yet to be sad for those things which she should?"

  "So she's sad about all of it," I followed. "Not just... um..."

  Minstrel looked my direction. I wondered whether he thought that I was jealous, even though his face was utterly impassive, then before I or he could answer, there was a neighing, and then a thunk. In my own head, I felt an uncomfortable pounding, like a headache, then a gleeful exuberance, at being recognized. Then with my eyes, I saw first Minstrel turning to look behind us, then I looked myself, to see Tosch, not a quarter mile back—having just trotted himself into a tree, and wasn't he trying to hide there behind a single branch now? It didn't help that it was the only tree of four for miles.

  "Ah, so he's still there," sighed Minstrel.

  "Hmmm?" I hoped my tone, wasn't overly concerned. But was Minstrel speaking of Tosch? He was looking at him clearly—and it was bad enough that he'd even realized him following. In my head, I tried to shout at Tosch: back further, back further.

  Minstrel switched his gaze to me. "Tis the ivoronsu," he spoke, "Those blessed steeds of the far spring-lands."

  "The what?" I replied. "The spring lands?" But then, before he could reply to that, in my panic of him realizing about Tosch, I added lightly, chuckling even, "oh, but what do you mean he's still there? Has he been following us or something?"

  Minstrel only gave a curt nod, which had me frowning flatly, and glaring internally back at Tosch.

  Minstrel turned to give him another look. Then he waved a hand and clicked his tongue to call him over—even past Fauna, who'd turned once to glance at Tosch, but now had her head flicked pointedly away, towards a seemingly more interesting patch of grass.

  "Here boy, here here," Minstrel called. He added, in singing, "To the fields, you run, towards the light, towards the sun. I will be your friend, never fear, little horse."

  But Tosch did not come—because I was threatening him on pain of abandonment (which never failed to terrify him). And so, he stayed, only clopping his hooves forward a little to get a better position behind the tree and branch. His entire tail, with its wagging and smoke-trailing, was sticking out for all to see, so that it made the whole attempt futile.

  Minstrel sighed then we returned to walking. I glanced back, only to see to it that Tosch would wait a beat before coming on. I wasn't sure he did. "It's a sad thing," Minstrel spoke, "But those ivoronsu are creatures I fear which Lox stole for his own use. Many of them died in the battle, not purely in this last, but in the wars before... It is such a sad thing, for they are peaceful creatures where they birth from."

  I frowned. "Ivoronsu?" I said. "Is that what you called them? What do you mean, where they come from? The spring lands or whatever?"

  "Aye, so me and the Lady Ellia have spoken of them time and time again. The spring lands are those lands west of Gilgatrox, much further on than Taelp. They are a secluded plains, blocked in by mountains, but perpetually they are for spring rains, and streams, and colored flowers."

  "Is this is a real place?" I asked. "Or one from your myths?"

  Minstrel gave me a sliced look, one brow dipped. "You doubt the tales, Cole from Kanth."

  "I only mean... since one person told me once that Ivoronsu were a granted animal.... I thought I'd be sure on about it."

  "Ivoronsu, ivoronsu," Minstrel burst into song, "To be true, to be true; the blinded horse, they're called. A curse which fell from the maker of the lands. Are they granted? Are they fierce? They are gentle, ivoronsu, ivoronsu. But they will, turn dark, for fear of hurt."

  I frowned again. In my head, I felt Tosch, like that timid, but decidedly vulnerable presence. Wasn't he always afraid of things, and yet it didn't hold him back from feeling so much; but it was quick that he gave in and left me, if I hurt him. —as with threatening abandonment. I thought of the riders of the ivoronsu, saying how they liked to kill squirrels, or the way they bit at one another.

  "Are you saying that Lox turned them dark?"

  Minstrel shrugged. "I only know, that of the ivoronsu, wince they are so very delicate, may easily fall to disarray. That was why I should have liked to greet that one which follows us,—though he doesn't seem a dark sort, does he?"

  Minstrel glanced back at Tosch again. I did the same. And maybe I did so for too long, because when I watched back straight, breathing in the fresh air of the plains, my little gnome friend was watching me carefully.

  "Should you ever like to bond with a granted animal, Cole from Kanth?"

  I smiled short, even laughing a little, instantly, and it was not difficult—for the idea of it, even with Tosch having happened the way he had all on his own, had always been to me a thing not reserved for someone like me. "I'd pity the animal," I retorted.

  Tosch gave an assuring bout of affection, and a little neigh in response. It was pitiable on my part, that I didn
't realize that Minstrel would have heard this as well.

  "Do you know, what I have thought, Cole from Kanth," Minstrel spoke, back right ahead, but now with his hands locked behind him, and then pausing very suddenly to turn to me—so that I would have thought Fauna would run him over, only she'd been attentive to watching ahead so as not to. Tosch stopped sharp as well, back off where he was. The plains rolled around us in hills, and in the far distance, in different directions, there were scattered cities, or farms, or mountains. "I have thought... that if Ellia's dear friend, had not died, that he should have wanted to come to be close to her. —after doing those things which he did," Minstrel went on fluidly, "that he should want to come to be close to her.... What is your opinion about that?"

  My mouth hung slack for a good second. I imagined, I should feel a horrid panic, but I didn't. This was Minstrel; he said many things all the times, and not all of them could be taken as others would have spoken them. At the same time, it was difficult to ever feel panic around him, and much easier to burst into laughter, so that was what I did, to some degree, maybe not affectively, smiling, "Isn't he dead? So it would be hard to tell. Or why does it matter?"

  "Things may not matter now, which will matter one day. This Minstrel loves to sing his tales—how long shall he go without singing of Cole the Kanthian. Tell me that name of your mother, or father. Or tell me what fare of trees they use to make their homes in Kanth, so that I might write a tale aright of your childhood before meeting our fair princess. Otherwise... I'm afraid this Minstrel's mind, has rather runaway. There was once I met a lady, who saved me from giant arachnids and I thought upon seeing her: my, but isn't she just like a princess, and with her hood, a princess in disguise. And so she was. Then I met a man who trained for others, and thought I: my, but isn't he just that firm princely sort. And so he was. Then I met a man upon a platform of Yanartas, and thought I to myself: my, but doesn't he care for my dear friend—even a little too much to have only known her so shortly. Aren't his hands a little scarred, as if from dragon's fire, and isn't his skin a speck to pale for a Kanthian. There was a time, when I heard of a Lieutenant dying by the hand of his lover's dragon, and thought I: would one bonded to so closely with one so beloved truly kill their bonded's friend, in such cold blood. Might it not be that they would try not to, in some deeper place? Might it not make a better tale, if that man should survive? ...and the last thing, I thought. Above the king's son, or his lover, or above the fair princess, wouldn't it be best that the Lieutenant should kill the evil one? If I were meant to write the story, or sing the tale, that would be the way which I would tell it. For who should mete out justice, but the one responsible for the country wronged. And which country was wronged most, but Shaundakul, for losing their fair dragons, and who is better responsible for a country, than its king, and who is a king, but the lover of the princess. So should the Lieutenant kill the evil one." Minstrel watched me carefully, with tight, unreadable eyes. Not at all un-calm, partly scrutinizing, enough to make me imagine, at least, that he was not fully positive of all these words.