Protector Of The Grove (Book 2)

by Trevor H. Cooley

  Jhonate hadn’t given him this sort of attention in a long time. She had massaged his sore muscles after particularly strenuous training in the past, but they had started receiving looks from the workers. She was so worried that rumors of inappropriate contact would get back to her father that she didn’t do it anymore.

  She sensed his change of mood. “Does it feel better now?” Jhonate asked sweetly.

  “Yes,” Justan said in relief. “Much better. Your hands worked wonders.”

  “Good,” she said with a smile, then punched him in the shoulder, striking a particularly sensitive nerve cluster.

  “Ow!”

  “Why did you not contact me through the ring the instant you knew you were under attack?” Jhonate said, scowling.

  “I didn’t know for sure that I was under attack until they came at me. And then things happened so fast that I didn’t have time. Hey,” Justan put one arm around her and pulled her close. “I reached out to you as soon as the fight was over.”

  “Not soon enough,” she said. Her thoughts were still angry, though he could tell she was enjoying having him pull her close. Her green eyes looked into his and her voice softened slightly. “I should have been fighting with you. I have more experience with these kinds of creatures than you do.”

  “I had no idea what they were in the first place,” he replied. Wow, he could look into her eyes forever. “How could I have known that you would recognize them when I didn’t?”

  “You should start assuming it,” Jhonate replied and all traces of anger faded from the ring. Now he just felt a strong yearning from her.

  Justan wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her tightly to him, “I think I’m going to be the first named warrior in the world whose wife feels like she always has to be there to protect him.”

  “No you’re not,” Hilt said. Justan and Jhonate gave him looks of surprise and the veteran warrior let out a knowing chuckle. “You forgot I was standing here, didn’t you?”

  Justan blinked. He actually had. Once again, he was reminded how hard this long betrothal was on their relationship. He became even more eager to get to Malaroo and get his introductions over with. He dropped his arms from around Jhonate and was surprised when she grabbed his arms and pulled them back around her.

  “Sir Hilt,” Jhonate said, turning in Justan’s arms to face the warrior. The tone of her emotions had turned to worry. “Regarding these basilisks. I did not want to think of the possibility before, but . . . just how angry is father?”

  Justan swallowed.

  Hilt waived his hands dismissively. “I know what you’re thinking, but no. That’s not possible. You know your father. He’d never-.”

  “I would never have thought he would wound his friend either,” she said nodding to Hilt’s new scar. “Pelgrath says father’s been erratic lately.”

  Hilt fingered the long pink scar that ran from the base of his ear down his neck and disappeared into his shirt. “This was . . . an accident. But this is Xedrion bin Leeths we’re talking about. If he wanted to kill Edge, he’d do it himself. He’d never do something so underhanded as sending an assassin, much less a basilisk. He’d find the very concept offensive!”

  “How exactly did your neck ‘accident’ happen?” Justan asked. The question had been burning in his mind ever since Hilt had arrived the day before.

  Hilt ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t going to tell you about that until we were further along in our journey.”

  “Why is that?” Jhonate asked.

  “It just sounds extreme, is all,” Hilt replied. “I wanted to build Xedrion up more before I told you.”

  “Just tell us, Sir Hilt,” Jhonate said, her voice firm.

  Hilt sighed. “It happened right after I returned from the war. Your firstbrother, Xeldryn, came to me and warned me that Xedrion was angry that I didn’t bring you back with me. But I was expecting that. This wasn’t the first time I’d come back empty handed,” he said giving Jhonate an accusatory look. She winced and Hilt continued. “What worried me this time was his reaction once he found out that I had authorized your betrothal. You should have seen Xeldryn’s face when I told him! He went pale at the thought of bringing that news back to your father.

  “Beth and I fully expected Xedrion to be waiting for us at our home when we arrived. To my relief, he wasn’t there. In fact, he ignored us the first few days we were back. No one from your clan came by to see us. Even Yntri was surprised. Finally, we received an invitation to a celebration at your father’s home. He was holding a party to congratulate Beth and I on our new baby.”

  “He likes to let things simmer before he acts,” Jhonate said. “Father may be quick to anger, but he never makes important decisions in a rage.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking. I thought this was good news. Surely Xedrion had calmed down,” Hilt replied. “But when we got there, he didn’t say a word to me. Your mothers fawned over the baby, of course, as did your sisters, but your brothers seemed subdued and Xedrion barely gave her a second glance. He just sat there red-faced, staring at the floor.”

  “That is bad,” Jhonate said and Justan felt her worry turn to fear.

  “Well I had never seen him like that, so I didn’t know how bad it was,” Hilt said, looking uncomfortable. “Anyway, a feast was laid out and just as we started to eat, he finally stood and called me over. He wanted to spar with me. Beth looked worried, but I thought this was a good thing. After all, sparring is how your father and I forged our friendship. This was a way he could work out his anger and finally talk to me about it. So we went to your father’s private training area. You know, the one out back, in the garden?”

  Jhonate nodded.

  “I went for the sparring swords, but he wanted to use the real thing. Which wasn’t that big of a deal, really. We had done that before. But that’s when I knew things might get dangerous. He came at me in full armor.”

  “He used the complete set?” Jhonate asked.

  “Head-to-toe Jharro wood,” Hilt said.

  “Jharro armor?” Justan said in surprise. “I didn’t know that existed.”

  “It is rare,” Jhonate replied. “It requires a great deal of wood to make a suit of armor, but father has more than anyone else in Roo-Tan history. He has gifts from the three oldest trees in the grove.”

  “But he rarely uses it,” Hilt said. “The only other times I’ve seen him wearing the complete set of armor is during speeches. So I asked him why he was wearing his armor to spar. He said that I was too free with the respect he’d given me and that I needed a reminder of just how powerful the people I represented were.”

  “That does not sound like something father would say,” Jhonate said, frowning.

  “People don’t always act like themselves when they’re angry,” Hilt replied with a shrug. “At any rate, we started sparring. Me with my two swords and Xedrion with two Jharro blades. Xedrion was too aggressive from the start. He tried to overpower me and I got in two quick hits, but he didn’t stop.”

  “Not even to reset?” Jhonate asks. “He usually resets and starts over after each hit.”

  “I don’t even know if he noticed them, he was so mad,” Hilt said. “He kept pounding at me over and over. Finally I stopped blocking and just tied him up, hilts against hilts. I pulled him close and asked him to calm down.

  “That’s when it happened. His armor changed on me. A blade formed from the plate covering his chest and shot up past my guard. It hit me right here.” He unbuttoned the front of his shirt exposing the full length of the scar.

  Jhonate put a hand to her mouth. “No.”

  Justan grimaced. The thick pink tissue started about just below Hilt’s right pectoral muscle and traveled upwards across his chest, cutting a straight line up his neck and ending at his ear. “That looks . . . deep.”

  “It was,” Hilt said, chuckling wryly as he buttoned it back up. “Needless to say, he won that match.”

  “He nearly killed you,”
Jhonate said and Justan felt guilt emanating from her now.

  “Nearly is the operative word here,” Hilt said with a reassuring smile. “Yes, your father was angry, but if he’d really wanted to kill me, his blade would have shot straight out and through my heart instead of up at an angle.”

  “What happened next?” Justan asked

  “It was like he woke up from his rage. Xedrion felt terrible. He cried out for help and rushed to my side, holding my wound shut and begging my forgiveness. He bandaged me up as good as he could and brought in one of their sorcerers to bless me with strength until the elves could get there.”

  “The elves healed you?” Justan asked.

  “Yes. Yntri handled it himself,” Hilt said. “Remember, they don’t believe in using elemental magic down there so they don’t have wizards. Even with their Jharro sap poultices, I was down for a week.”

  “I . . . It is my fault.” Jhonate’s voice quavered and she pulled free from Justan’s arms to fall to her knees in front of Hilt. “I owe you a debt, Sir Hilt. I manipulated you into agreeing to our betrothal. I-I could have waited.”

  “No you couldn’t,” Hilt replied. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. “And you two shouldn’t have had to. Look, I respect your people and your traditions, but there are a few that I find quite ridiculous. Frankly, the way your father handles this betrothal thing is one of them. You two are adults. You shouldn’t need his permission to marry.”

  Jhonate blinked at him, unsure how to react to that statement. Justan could feel a mix of relief and irritation coming through the ring. “Nevertheless, I do believe in our traditions. I should not have put you in that position.”

  “Look, you’re forgiven, okay? I healed up just fine. Your father came to his senses and Beth poured on the guilt until he agreed to call back the army he had sent-.”

  “He sent an army?” Justan interrupted, wide eyed. He had thought Jhonate was exaggerating about her father’s eccentricities. Now he was realizing that his future father-in-law may very well have gone insane.

  “Well, yeah. He did, but it was only maybe a thousand men and he called them back before they had even arrived at the border,” Hilt said quickly. “The point I was trying to make before I opened my mouth too far is that however mad Xedrion was at first, he’s better now. Beth and I spent several weeks talking you and the academy up until he finally came up with this alternate plan and sent me back up here with Jhonate’s brothers.”

  Justan nodded slowly. “And you’re sure he didn’t think better of it and hire those basilisks after you left?”

  Jhonate turned on him, feeling a flash of outrage, but she bit back a retort. After all, hadn’t she asked Hilt the same question? She looked back to Hilt with concern in her eyes.

  “No, Edge, and-. Come on, Jhonate. Don’t give me that look. I have already answered you. There’s no way! After all the times he’s had basilisks sent after him, do you really think Xedrion would use those things himself?”

  “I do not know,” Jhonate said, her thoughts full of turmoil. “My heart tells me that you are right. I was there for some of those attacks and I remember how much he hated those things. But my mind tells me that he is the most likely culprit. After hearing your story, I can clearly see that father is not acting like the man I remember.”

  “I understand your concern,” Hilt said. “But Beth agrees with me that your father’s actions were just out of worry for you, most likely combined with stress over the rumors of Roo-Dan attacks.”

  “Beth agrees?” Jhonate said skeptically. “Did she listen to father?”

  Hilt’s wife was not only a powerful witch, but also a listener. This meant that she had the ability to listen to a person’s soul and take measure of them. No one could hide their intentions from a listener. Not if they let the listener get close enough.

  “Well . . . no. You know how your father is. In all the time we’ve known him, he only let her listen to him once.”

  Justan! Gwyrtha sent. The bond told him that she was somewhere several miles to the south.

  Jhonate frowned at Hilt’s response. “Then how . . .”

  Justan tuned out their conversation so that he could focus on what the rogue horse had to say. Did you find something?

  Yes! Those things came through the plains, Gwyrtha said and Justan could sense that she was standing in a vast field of snow covered grass. Yntri Yni was perched on her saddle, talking animatedly. Yntri says he is sure they were alone.

  You can understand him? Justan asked.

  He is talking to me in my head. Kind of like how you do it but not the same. He clicks a lot more than you do. This old elf is really funny. She paused as Yntri Yni smacked the top of her head with his bow. Why are you mad? she asked. You are old.

  “Uh, Sir Hilt?” Justan said, interrupting Jhonate mid-sentence. The two of them looked at him with identical frowns and he realized that their argument had gotten quite heated. “Gwyrtha and Yntri have followed the basilisks’ trail all the way back to the plains. Yntri is confident that the two of them came alone.”

  Hilt let out a sigh of relief and nodded. “Good. Please tell her that they can come back now. We have a lot of preparations to see to if we are to leave in the morning.”

  “Okay,” Justan said and relayed the message. Without passing the message on to Yntri, Gwyrtha turned on her heels and galloped back towards the academy as the elf cursed and clung to her saddle.

  “Perhaps it is best that we wait,” Jhonate said. “We should make sure that there is no further danger before we travel to Malaroo.”

  “You think so?” Hilt said, eying her with suspicion. “Yntri just said the basilisks were alone.”

  “Nevertheless, it would be a wise course to take,” Jhonate replied. “In fact, it would be better if we waited until the spring to leave. We should not chance being caught in a storm.”

  Hilt smiled. “I was waiting to hear something like that from you.”

  “It is foolish to travel such distances in the winter,” she explained. “Especially with my brothers in tow. They know nothing about how to handle cold temperatures.”

  Justan raised an eyebrow. Jhonate had never shown any qualms about winter weather before. Besides, her argument didn’t hold water. Her brothers had made the trip up to the academy safely after all.

  Sir Hilt wasn’t fooled either. “Your father foresaw that you would want to delay. That’s why it is written in the contract with the academy that our group would leave within two days of the agreement.”

  Jhonate scowled.

  You never did tell me why you have been so intent upon delaying our departure, Justan said to her through the ring.

  “What route are we taking?” Jhonate said to Hilt, ignoring Justan’s question.

  “We’ll be traveling east over the mountains,” Hilt said.

  Jhonate gave him a snort of derision. “Over the mountains? This time of year?”

  Hilt rolled his eyes. “Again with the weather.”

  She folded her arms. “Did father’s contract specify the route we should take?”

  “No, but I’m familiar with those mountain passes. We can-.”

  Jhonate cut him off. “Since father did not specify, I demand we take the southern route. We can travel to Sampo and then journey down the Grandriver Road from there. The temperatures will be milder that way.”

  “But it will also add at least two weeks to our travel time,” Hilt complained. “I already did that on the way here since your brothers were so ill prepared for the cold. Now they are properly fitted.”

  “Justan and I are in no hurry,” Jhonate said.

  “Look, you may not be eager to get there, but I have a wife and child to get back to,” Hilt said, anger entering his voice. “I have no desire to take the longer road just because of some whim of yours.”

  Jhonate’s expression grew pained and Justan felt a twang of guilt coming from her once more. “I am sorry, Sir Hilt. I must insist.”

 
“Oh, you insist, do you?” Hilt said through gritted teeth.

  “I don’t understand,” Justan said, looking Jhonate in the eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit unfair? I understand that you are dreading seeing your father, but why should Hilt have to wait to see his family? What is your problem?”

  “We discussed this yesterday,” Jhonate said, cocking her head at him slowly. “Must you continue to question me on this?”

  “Yes! I must!” Justan said. “I love you and you know I trust you, but you need to get used to me questioning you from time to time. I am to be your husband. Not your servant. I will follow you anywhere, but I refuse to be left in the dark!”

  “But . . .” Jhonate blinked for a moment, taken aback. “Justan, I need you to be patient with me.”

  “I have been patient.” A long pent up frustration began to boil up from within him. “Jhonate, I share everything with you and yet you tell me so little about yourself. I have known you for three years and we have been betrothed for almost a year of it. Why is it then that, until yesterday, I didn’t even know your brothers’ names?”

  “I . . .” She took a few steps backwards. “I have reasons.”

  “That’s what you always say when I bring up your family.”

  “She really hasn’t told you about her family?” Hilt asked.

  “Very little,” Justan said. “And a lot of what I know I heard from other people.”

  “There are many reasons,” she said. Please do not push me on this.

  “Fine!” Justan threw his hands up and walked back to his cot. He started strapping his swords back on.

  “Where are you going?” Jhonate asked.

  “I think I’ll start with a run.” He tossed his quiver over his shoulders and grabbed his bow. “And then maybe I’d do some archery practice. I wouldn’t want to get rusty since evidently, as I learned yesterday, I should have my Jharro bow with me at all times.”

  He walked back past them and towards the open doors.

  Jhonate felt his anger and watched him leave with concern. I love you, she sent.