The boys glanced at each other nervously, but nodded their agreement. Arden gave them her best smile, turned, and marched back into the house, her mind already formulating the words she’d have for the magister.
The two guards outside the study door must’ve read the look on her face, as they immediately stepped aside. She threw open the door with a mighty bang and strode straight for the magister. The men all stood in stunned surprise, but none as shocked as the magister when she asked her first question.
“Did you or did you not order every elf to remain in the diasetam for the duration of our visit?”
His black eyes blinked at her under his bushy brown hair and beard. “Your Highness?”
“Answer my question immediately.”
“I… I…” He sputtered a bit, his chest puffing out defensively. “There’s been trouble in town of late, and I wanted to ensure your safety from—”
“So you think banishing the entire elvish population here is the solution?” Her hands balled into fists. She’d never been so angry she wanted to hit another person before, but she was having trouble containing her temper.
Arden jerked when a hand settled on her shoulder. “Calm down, asahana. Let’s see what’s going on first.”
Darius leveled his gaze at the red-faced magister. “You say you’ve been having trouble lately?”
The magister’s eye twitched. “Those damned pointy-eared cretins have invaded every inch of the town. Businesses and all, even trying to buy homes! They have the diasetam. I won’t make further concessions to—”
Before she knew what happened, Darius reared back and flattened the man’s nose, sending him reeling backwards over a footstool. The magister scrambled and scuttled to his feet, but the blow left him staggering. Darius stepped forward again, his stance dangerous, but Vennic grabbed hold of his arm, stopping him cold.
“You can do something about this that doesn’t require fists, Your Majesty.” Vennic’s soothing tone took the wind out of her sails immediately, and she marveled at how well-controlled the elf was given the words the magister spewed moments before.
His presence had the same effect on Darius, and he straightened to his full height, every inch of him in command. “Magister Hurem, you are hereby immediately and irrevocably stripped of your position and title. Which house holds dominion over this area?”
The magister spat and held his tongue.
She shook herself to clear her mind. “Nevahtu falls under Blacklan’s banner.”
“Seamus Blacklan?”
Her shoulders drooped and she shook her head. “Duchess Catalan. Seamus fell at Orinda. She’s regent until her son comes of age.”
Darius’s face softened. “I fought with Seamus before Orinda. He was a good man. I didn’t know he was one we lost.”
While two soldiers hauled the outraged magister out of the room, she remembered the boys in the yard.
“I’ve someone waiting to show me to the diasetam, kendala. Maybe we should go see the extent of things here before we interfere any further.”
Darius
The discovery of the horrific conditions in the elven diasetam of Nevahtu put a severe damper on their journey. Vermin roamed the streets, and waste and refuse drained away down gutters that once had roads between them, but were little more than walkways after heavy rains flooded the area. Disease ran rampant, food supplies were spoiled, and the single source of water was a foul-smelling well at the center of the five-mile section of town belonging to the elves.
Arden shone like the sun through it all, smiling and speaking with everyone they met, listening intently as they told her about their children, their jobs, their crumbling homes, the tribes they originated from… She astounded Darius. She remembered every name and face, and he’d never seen her look so determined. The two young boys who guided them there, Rigal and Evasi, marched on either side of her, proud to have been the ones to speak with her first, and became the unofficial ambassadors to the diasetam. Arden’s first order of business was inviting every able-bodied elf to help clean out the food from the ex-magister’s home, organizing an entire team to head up the distribution. When the boys’ parents invited the royals to stay with them for the night, Darius couldn’t have said no to Arden’s wide, pleading eyes if he’d been made of stone.
His first order of business the next day involved birds being sent to Duchess Blacklan in Norwall and Ingram back at Castle Dulaine, informing them of his removal of Magister Hurem and subsequent replacement of an elven-backed candidate by the name of Erron Minval, a generous businessman with good sense and a kind heart. The Duchess was none too pleased at the news, but thanked him for the intervention on her behalf. Arden ensured him Catalan was a decent woman whose servants had nothing but good things to say about her, and as she was far better versed in such politics, Darius took her word for it.
He also sent a letter to Ehlren that they’d been delayed and would arrive three days later than originally planned. The stop in Nevahtu affected the whole itinerary and resulted in having to cut out one of the stops of their tour. Arden didn’t mind in the slightest. She said that making a difference in people’s lives was far better than a little sightseeing.
Because of what they discovered in Nevahtu, Darius resolved to set up his own personal inquiry regarding other diasetams in Valentia. Manpower and resources were still spread thin with the haegaroi clean up and reconstruction going on, but he sent a bird to Madame LeVallier to compile a list of trusted agents who could investigate the matter on his behalf. He kept that from Arden, however, with the intention of telling her as a gift for a special occasion. It would be particularly nice if he would have some progress to show for it as well when he finally told her, but that was something to consider later.
Their last night there, Arden sat at the vanity in the room they took at the magister’s estate. He laid in bed, nearly half asleep, watching her brush out her long dark hair in slow, even strokes.
“You look vexed, asahana,” he said, noting the expression in her reflection. “Something the matter?”
She set the brush down, frowning at it. “Just something I overheard Errol grumbling about today. It worries me.”
He yawned and motioned for her to come to bed. “What worries you?”
She shuffled across the room, hanging her robe over the back of a chair. “He was complaining about how impossible it was to get certain materials to help build up the diasetam. Quality steel and stones for the buildings, I think. Does that feel at all odd to you?”
Darius stretched out across the bed as she climbed under the covers. “Materials are in short supply everywhere. It’s all the rebuilding kingdom-wide, I suppose.”
“I guess that could be,” she murmured, but she didn’t look convinced. “I just feel like with people returning from the war, production would be up again with more people going back to work. Especially with the high demand, there’s more than enough paying jobs to go around. I know we lost a lot of men, but certainly not so many that supply lines would slow to a near halt. Don’t you think?”
The more he considered it, the more sound her reasoning became. The dwarves, their main suppliers of raw materials, had withdrawn from the war shortly after Orinda Valley. It was incredibly strange to see such shortages, even with the higher demand. Pieces clicked together in his head one by one: the problems in Maer, Vennic’s nails for the horseshoes, and the troubles in Nevahtu as well.
“Your family owns mines that produce iron, don’t they?”
Arden laid down beside him, watching his face. “Iron for steel production, a granite quarry, and a small gold mine on the western edge of the country. Why?”
“Have your parents mentioned any slowdowns with them?”
“No, but I mostly stopped asking about them after a visit when I was eleven. It’s a very sensitive subject to my mother.”
“Why is that?
”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, you know, too curious for my own good. I went exploring, and they lost me for a few hours. Never mind that I located a very nice ore deposit in a tunnel they’d given up on. No, they couldn’t let their only heir fall down a mine shaft. Because clearly I’m very stupid and cannot read warning signs.”
He chuckled. “I promise to let you explore any mine you like so long as I’m with you. You know, to read those signs for you.”
She started to laugh, but it turned into a yawn. “Sorry. It’s getting very late. It’s been a long few days.”
“It has.”
Silence crept in, leaving them staring at each other by lamplight. Her eyes always drew him in, but when the light was low, her dark lashes seemed longer and fuller, their slow, tired blink hypnotizing. Her shy smile warmed his heart, but before he could say anything more, she turned away and doused the oil lamp beside the bed, settling in with her back to him.
Darius remained as he was, watching her chest rise and fall, easing into her rhythm of sleep. He could’ve stopped her, could’ve woken her, kissed her and told her maybe it was time to move on.
But he didn’t. Instead, he laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling, returning to the problems in getting supplies. Were the dwarves cutting back on trades? Maybe their stop at Ogtern would provide some answers.
Arden
She honestly couldn’t say how long she stood there gaping.
“Are you sure it’s safe?”
Darius set a hand on her back and pointed to a cave at the end of the path winding up the side of the red rock cliff. “That’s the passage we’ll take to get to the mountain road. It’s wide enough for the wagon, but only just. I’ve been through it many times, so don’t worry. Plus, the view of the monuments is spectacular from there.”
Her tongue felt thick as she swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn’t help it. The cliff was at least a mile straight into the air with nothing but scrubby, stabby plants and pointed rocks below it. The massive likeness of a dwarf yar carved into the entire height of the cliff did nothing to set her at ease, either. He didn’t look cross, so much as though he were warning them of their impending doom should they go any further.
Her feet inched away of their own accord, and she backed into Darius with a startled yelp.
He chuckled and took her hand, turning her away from the path to look out on the arid plains they passed through to get there. “Remember how I told you about seeing the old fortress from a distance?” She nodded, and he pointed east. “Look there.”
She gasped, thoroughly amazed. The old dwarven outpost, little more than a crumbling tomb up close, was easily identifiable from far away. “A dragon.” She marveled at it. “Those messy piles of rocks and jutting boulders are exactly what I imagine a dragon would look like from here.”
“Dragons are much scarier up close, for what it’s worth.” He nudged her with a shoulder, winking.
Arden rolled her eyes. “You’ve seen a dragon?”
“Four of them, actually, if you count the undead one at Orinda.”
No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t see him as a killer. His small assault on the ex-magister in Nevahtu certainly displayed his strength, but killing dragons?
“You still don’t believe me?”
She shrugged apologetically. “I just can’t see it. I’m sorry.”
Already on his horse, Vennic strolled up behind them. “You’re losing your edge, Darius. I think you’ll have to slaughter a horde of haegaroi in front of her before she’ll believe you.”
“You could offer to support my stories, you know.” Darius grimaced at him. “After all, you were there for three of those dragons yourself.”
Vennic chuckled. “What would you like me to say on your behalf? That we slaughtered every foe and drank the blood of our enemies in triumph?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Drank their blood? That’s—”
“A joke,” Darius said, leading me back to our horses. “The only drinking we ever did after a fight was cheap ale in sketchy public houses.”
Vennic strode along beside them. “Although there was that time with the Prasta, where—”
“Gods, not that again,” Darius waved him off. “You take one sip of heart’s blood to cement an alliance, and your friends never let you forget it.”
“Heart’s blood?” She slowed her steps, casting a wary look at him.
“A dragon was giving a small group of Prasta mercenaries a bit of a hard time, so we stepped in to help,” Vennic explained. “As a show of thanks, they invited us to share in the customary draining of the beast’s heart, after which they drink the blood to absorb the strength of their defeated foe, to honor the dragon as much as the victorious warriors.”
“An odd custom, but I suppose it could’ve been worse. Did you drink as well?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Only the one to deliver the killing blow was invited to partake.” He nodded at Darius. “Still keen to kiss him knowing where those lips have been?”
At Darius’s heavy sigh, she couldn’t help but giggle. “A bit too late now, but draka ehsa might be a fun new nickname to try out.”
Their amusement was immediately drenched in icy discomfort, though she wasn’t sure why. While “dragon lips” wasn’t an overly flattering moniker, it seemed like a harmless joke.
Arden looked back and forth between them. “What’ve I done this time? I didn’t mean to insult you, kendala. I was only—”
Darius took a deep breath and held up a hand. “It’s fine, asahana.” He flashed her a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No harm done.”
The conversation ended as they reached their mounts, and she was back to casting skittish glances up the cliff. Darius stopped and considered her for a moment, then swept her up and planted her on the back of his horse, swinging in behind her before she could ask what he was doing.
“I’d never let you fall,” he whispered in her ear, her cheeks flushing at the feel of his breath on her skin.
“But, my horse…”
He reached around her and took the reins. “She knows to follow. Your anxiety would’ve been a distraction to her. It’s better this way, don’t you think?”
Arden nodded and adjusted herself in the saddle. As they headed up the cliff path, her worries remained, but his strong arms around her kept the worst of them at bay. Even still, she kept her eyes ahead, not daring to look down for fear the height might be too much for her. After forty-five minutes of picking their way up the side of the ridge, it was a relief to enter the darkness of the tunnel passage. Rocks and caves she knew. Let the birds keep the clouds for themselves.
Chapter 19
Darius
It wasn’t at all cold in the bowels of the tunnel passage, but Darius shivered against the darkness lurking in the corners the light from the fires couldn’t reach. The last time he was there, he battled his way through masses of haegaroi alongside the army, clearing out the tunnels to allow safe passage again. The creatures were long dead and corpses burned, but his memories hung thick in the air; he could still smell the decaying tang of gore and tainted blood.
They set men to watch in shifts, even though they were certain there wasn’t any danger, as it was far better to be prepared than dead. Darius was coming back from standing guard, a thing he insisted on despite the protests of the men, ready to crawl into bed and hoping for rest free from nightmares. Lantern light filtered out from his tent, however, and he paused. Was Arden still awake?
He pushed through the opening, but stopped immediately inside. Arden knelt in front of her trunk, the Gordian dagger turning in her hands.
“What are you doing up?” When he spoke, she jumped, juggling the dagger as she landed on her rear. Big, blue bug eyes stared up at him through magnification lenses.
“Oh! You startle
d me. What time is it?”
“Nearly midnight. What are you wearing?” He chuckled at her befuddled look.
She looked down at herself, then back to him. “My nightclothes, of course.”
Crouching down in front of her, Darius grinned and tapped the goggles between her eyes. “On your face.”
She blinked several times. “What? Oh. Yes, those.” Taking hold of a small tab along the bottom edge, she flipped the ridiculous lenses up. “I use them to study things in greater detail. I forget I’m wearing them sometimes. I’ve embarrassed my mother at least half a dozen times showing up to tea this way.”
He stood and helped her to her feet. “And, the dagger?”
She led him over to the lantern and sat again, motioning him to follow. “I had Elena make sure it was packed. I thought if I had some time, I could study it more closely and maybe learn more about it before we reached Ogtern.”
“And did you find anything yet?”
Her face screwed up in a confused expression. “All I really have are more questions. You see here?” She turned the dagger over and set it in his hands. “Right at the end of the grip, on the ball here. Do you see it?”
He squinted at the weapon, trying not to block the light. A series of characters had been impressed in the metal. “You mean those marks?”
She nodded. “I think it’s a dwarvish word, but I don’t know it, never mind know how to pronounce it. At first I thought it might be a maker’s mark, but I know the characters for Gordia, and these don’t match. Do you recognize it at all?”
“I only speak dwarvish, not read it, so I can’t be of much help. Sorry.”
Arden sighed and picked up the dagger, carefully returning it to the satin interior of its box. “Ah, well. It didn’t hurt to ask. I imagine there’ll be someone in Ogtern to discuss it with.”
She pulled off her goggles and cleared the top of the trunk, packing it up as he shed his cloak and armor. She was quiet as she got into bed, staring up at the roof of the tent as he finished undressing. He extinguished the lamp and joined her.
Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) Page 18