Tempest

by Ryals, R. K.

  He stood. “I am one of their rulers. I command an entire army. I send men off to war to die. If I grieved every death, my army would collapse, and our country would fall. Love doesn’t belong in war.”

  Turning, he started to walk away from me.

  “The knots,” I called out. “What do they mean?”

  Cadeyrn paused only long enough to answer.

  “It stands for myself, my wife, and my son.”

  Chapter 18

  The next day we reached the coast. We topped a sandstone cliff and stood on the edge, our faces to the ocean in the distance. I’d never seen an ocean, had only read about them. No words could fully describe the rolling blue-green water, the white caps as the waves broke, and the smell of salt on the breeze. Seagulls dove, their calls loud, and weirdly peaceful. There was sand and rock, but the sand below was different than the one we were leaving. Whiter, softer looking.

  “By the gods,” Maeve breathed from next to me, her long, dark hair lifting in the breeze. We’d stepped out of the Ardus’ strange magical boundary, and wind circled around us, cool and refreshing.

  “The Sea of Rollinthia,” I whispered.

  Daegan looked down at me. “Is that what it’s called?”

  Maeve lifted her hands to the sky. “I don’t care what it’s called. It looks like the Great Veil!”

  “The Great Veil?” Reenah asked.

  The consort had begun walking closer and closer to our group over the last couple of days. She seemed fascinated by us, or maybe she was simply spying. I hadn’t made great friends with the Sadeemian prince. If anything, I’d angered him. And yet, every time I glimpsed him that day, I thought about the pendant. Three knots.

  I looked down at my wrists.

  “We all miss him,” Lochlen said suddenly from behind me as Maeve explained the Great Veil to Reenah. The Great Veil was the home of our gods, the great beyond, a wonderful place we went after death. I wondered if Kye was there.

  My gaze met Lochlen’s. “I’m sorry,” I told him, moving back so that I stood next to his massive head. Lochlen still carried supplies for the Sadeemians during the day, his draconic back taking some of the burden off the remaining sand equus. I ran my hand over his gold scales, and he closed his eyes.

  “The rebels need you, Drastona. Losing Kye was a great blow—”

  I cut him off. “I know,” I said. “I’m ready now.”

  Lochlen looked at me. “Are you?”

  For the first time since I’d met him, I shared an intimate moment with Lochlen. Laying my head against his, I ignored the smoke that rose up from his nostrils. His scales felt cool against my face, and I kissed them.

  “I’m not okay,” I whispered, running my fingers down his jaw, “but some of the best leaders are broken ones.”

  I stepped back. Lochlen bared his teeth, and I knew in his own way he was smiling.

  “You took down a wyver on your own,” he said, amused.

  I looked away, my cheeks flushed. “It was rash of me.”

  “It was incredible,” Daegan defended.

  Maeve nodded in agreement, but she didn’t look at us. Her eyes were on the ocean, her cheeks turning pink from the wind.

  “Your eyes look like the ocean,” Maeve said suddenly.

  Oran pushed at my leg with his snout. “She’s right,” the wolf agreed.

  I’d forgotten about my eyes. No one had mentioned them since we’d first entered the desert.

  “So they are still changed?” I asked.

  Lochlen stared at me. “They have remained blue-green this entire time, Drastona.”

  My gaze moved over them. “Really?”

  Reenah looked confused. “Your eyes are not originally this color, no?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “I suppose not.”

  Maeve glanced back at me. “It really suits you,” she said, her tone wistful.

  I moved to her side and leaned in close. “How are you doing, Maeve?”

  A tear slid unchecked down her face. “I loved him,” she murmured.

  I put an arm around Maeve’s shoulder and held her. Other than our marked skin, Kye was the one connection we shared. We’d both loved the same man. Her love for Kye had been a different kind of love than what I’d shared with him, but she’d loved him all the same. I was beginning to learn that love came in many forms, that sometimes it swept a person away while for others it simmered a while, unrequited.

  At first, Maeve stiffened in my embrace, but slowly she relaxed, her body settling into mine. She was taller than me, and it made the hug awkward. Laughing, she swiped at her cheeks.

  “So small to be so mighty,” Maeve teased.

  Daegan grunted. “One day in the Great Veil, I will thank Kye and Brennus.” We all looked at him, and he grinned. “After all, they did leave me all the women.”

  Maeve choked before laughing, the laughter wild and mad. It was the kind of fanatical laughter that followed a good cry, the kind that said “everything is going to be okay”.

  I grinned. “Come,” I commanded, my voice full of mock sternness.

  The Sadeemians had begun to descend the cliff, traveling along a rough road cut into the side. We all followed, although I hung back a moment, my eyes on the Ardus.

  “I love you, Kye,” I whispered into the wind.

  Maybe it was wishful thinking, but when the wind swept my face, it felt like Kye’s hand. I wasn’t saying good-bye to Kye. I was carrying his memory with me. Unfortunately, in that moment, I felt like I was saying good-bye to his spirit and it smashed my already battered heart.

  Above me, a falcon called. I shaded my eyes as Ari circled before coming to land on a nearby rock, her feathers lifting in the breeze.

  “I hate seagulls,” she muttered, her beady eyes on the ocean.

  I laughed. “Why?”

  She looked at me. “Because they think they are funny, but they are not.”

  “Ah,” I said. “The jester of the birds. It is good that they try though.”

  Ari preened her feathers. “Very bad jesters,” she murmured.

  I glanced out over the ocean.

  “King Raemon is angry. The rebels have had to go into hiding in the mountains. Refugees are flooding the forest,” Ari said suddenly.

  I turned to her. “Feras?” I asked.

  She didn’t wait for me to elaborate. “The dragon rex knows about Kye, and he grieves. All hope is on you now,” she answered. “As for Raemon, he received your message from the wyvers. Anyone who comes across the boy, Sax, is to bring him in unharmed. The king wants your head.”

  I smiled at the bird. “He’ll die first,” I warned.

  Ari watched me a moment. “There will be war. The king’s insanity has made him brash.”

  I stared out over the ocean. “And the Greemallian princess?” I asked.

  “She is still in danger,” Ari answered. “According to the castle mice, the king has a spy within the Sadeemian army.”

  My head shot up. “Not possible.”

  “Well,” Ari said slowly, “mice aren’t exactly dependable.”

  “A spy,” I breathed.

  “Blayne Dragern,” a male voice said.

  I straightened, my eyes going to the figure approaching me on the cliff.

  “The falcon, she comes with news of a spy?” Cadeyrn asked.

  I nodded. “And you think it could be the man I wrote the missive to?”

  Cadeyrn continued to stare at the bird. “It’s possible. He’s my mother’s brother and a shrewd man. My mother was the daughter of King Brahn of New Hope. It is a small country, but it is rich in many resources, especially silk.”

  I stared at him, at his strange gold-streaked mahogany hair. “Is that why you don’t look entirely Sadeemian?” I asked.

  A faint smile crossed Cadeyrn’s face as his eyes met mine. “No royal is of one blood. Our marriages are made simply to strengthen alliances. But you? Is there a reason you don’t look entirely Medeisian?”

  I turn
ed my head, my heart pounding. I knew he meant my eyes. Why had they changed in the desert? Did it have something to do with my magic?

  “Come,” the prince said, ignoring my unease. “The convoy leaves us, and your people are lagging. They wait on you. Thank the falcon for me. I know now to stay alert.”

  The prince left then, and I looked at Ari.

  “Be watchful, Phoenix,” she said, her large wings spreading. In an instant she was gone, her cries drowned out by the seagulls.

  “What did the fish say to the fisherman?” one of the seagulls called out.

  “I’ve heard that one before,” another seagull answered.

  The one telling the joke ignored him. “I don’t want to be hooked,” the seagull cried out before laughing hysterically.

  I couldn’t help it, I chuckled. Ari was right; seagulls told really bad jokes.

  Chapter 19

  There was a small fishing village that doubled as a seaport just below the cliff. The dirt and stone path we followed eventually joined a network of cobblestone streets and wood frame houses built upward into an opposite cliff face. Another unpaved road led to the ocean. Most of the Sadeemians ran for the sea, modesty forgotten as they stripped off their tunics and trousers, leaving only their undergarments on as they ran into the waves.

  Daegan pulled his tunic up over his head.

  Maeve gasped. “What are you doing?” she exclaimed.

  Daegan shrugged. “Who am I to argue with foreign tradition?”

  And with that, he ran for the waves.

  Reenah chuckled. “The ocean means much to the Sadeemians, and it’s good to wash off the sands of the desert.”

  Maeve stared. “I think I’d rather take a bath.”

  I followed the Sadeemians to the beach, pulling off my boots before digging my bare feet into the sand. It felt soft and damp against my toes.

  “I’m not stripping,” Maeve said stubbornly.

  I grinned up at her. “Come on, Maeve. When will we get a chance like this again?”

  Maeve crossed her arms over her chest while Reenah began unstrapping some of the supplies from Lochlen’s back. Rations had dwindled on our march through the desert, and there wasn’t much to remove. After a few moments, Lochlen just shook the rest off, letting them fall haphazardly into the sand, and then he transformed.

  Oran ran for the waves, and I unlaced my tunic.

  “You have less reason to be embarrassed than I do,” I told Maeve pointedly while gesturing at her chest.

  Maeve’s lips twitched, and I pulled the tunic over my head, letting it drop to the sand before moving to the trousers. The short chemise and trouser-like braies underneath kept everything covered, although they were a bit thin.

  The splashing from the ocean had grown loud and raucous. Many of the women were scrubbing their hair with crude lye soap while the men dunked each other.

  I scratched my own dirty, itchy scalp and looked longingly at the bubbles as the women ducked down to rinse. It was the soap that convinced Maeve. She pulled off her tunic and trousers hurriedly, as if she were afraid she’d change her mind, and together we ran for the beach.

  The ocean was colder than it appeared, and Maeve shrieked as we pushed into the waves, each of us staying to the shallow water. I didn’t know about Maeve, but I couldn’t swim. There were few chances to learn in Medeisia. My family had been invited several times to a manor on Gulling Lake, but I’d been left behind at my own request.

  “By Liqueet,” Maeve gasped as one of the Sadeemian women threw us a bar of soap.

  I whispered my own praise to the Goddess of Water as I scrubbed my short hair before sinking into the sea to rinse it.

  “The Sea of Rollinthia,” Lochlen sighed as he joined us in the ocean, his human legs unsteady in the rolling water.

  “Why did you transform?” I asked.

  Lochlen nodded at the waves, and I looked up to find the prince of Sadeemia swimming in the sea, his tunic removed. The tattoo on the right side of his chest wrapped around his side and ended on his back. Like the pendant that swung around his neck, the tattoo was of Henderonian origin. Lots of complicated circles and knots.

  “The prince fears I would startle the villagers,” Lochlen said.

  “In other words, he doesn’t want to start a mob,” Maeve teased.

  Lochlen grinned before lifting his hands and diving into the waves. Within moments, he was gone. Maeve and I stared as Oran splashed into the water next to me.

  “Dragons swim like a fish no matter their form,” Oran complained.

  Water dripped from the wolf’s fur, weighing it down so that the weight he’d lost in the desert was more prominent. I reached for him, running my fingers down into his pelt and along his spine before lifting the soap in my hands. He groaned as I scrubbed his coat.

  “Do you miss the forest?” I asked him.

  The wolf’s head swung in my direction.

  “Don’t you?” he asked in return.

  I rinsed him, my eyes lifting to watch the Sadeemian revelers. Most of them were leaving the sea now, walking to the rocks by the cliff so that they could dry in the sun. This sun wasn’t as punishing as the one in the desert. It was warm, but not overpowering. In Medeisia, it would be snowing.

  “Are the seasons so different in Sadeemia?” I asked Reenah as we exited the sea.

  The consort was dripping wet, her pale undergarments translucent, and I tried my best to keep my flaming face averted.

  “We have winter here,” Reenah answered, “but they are milder. Generally, the worst temperatures come at night.”

  “I like it. I hate the snow,” Daegan said as he joined us. He had blankets folded over his arm, and he held them out to us. “Not that I’m complaining, but those undergarments aren’t hiding anything.”

  Maeve and I both snatched the proffered blankets quickly, our cheeks burning. Daegan chuckled.

  “I’m too much of a gentleman to look,” he insisted.

  Both of us threw him doubtful glares. He ignored them.

  “Dress quickly,” he said instead. “The prince has ordered a camp made on the beach, but only his soldiers will remain. His personal guard, the servants, and our group will be going into the village.”

  Reenah’s eyes crinkled as Daegan offered her a third blanket. “As the Prince of Sadeemia, Cadeyrn will be required to take shelter within the town. Rolleen is a prosperous port for us, and it would be seen as a slight if the prince was not to stay in their best inn. You go with him because he does not trust you yet,” she said.

  I clutched the blanket against my chest. “He’s a good leader not to trust us. We are still strangers.”

  Daegan snorted. “Strangers who have lost two men trying to prove that our king means his country harm.”

  I placed a placating hand on Daegan’s arm. “And if you were he?” I asked.

  Daegan didn’t answer me. He simply stared over my head at the sea.

  “Come,” Maeve said softly, “let’s change.”

  No one argued, and we found our pile of sand-stained clothes, pulling them on quickly over our damp undergarments. The prince was waiting when we finished.

  “Will the wolf be allowed to stay with me?” I asked Cadeyrn as we approached him.

  The prince glanced at the wolf before his gaze moved to mine. “Aye.”

  I exhaled, unaware that I’d even been holding my breath. I’d come to depend on Oran’s presence. Having him with me was reassuring, and it reminded me of home.

  Cadeyrn led our group into the village. People lined the streets. They were cheery folk; healthy, with rosy cheeks and wide smiles. Many of the women waved colorful handkerchiefs and shouted praise to the prince. The men bowed their heads while children weaved in and out of adult legs, their faces peering between bulky skirts and trousers to get a glimpse of the travelers.

  Cadeyrn nodded at them, his gaze assessing the village. It was a clean town with freshly painted homes. Women wore patch free gowns with low necklines that
were laced tightly from the waist to just above the chest. An open surcoat draped over the gowns and trailed all the way to the ground. They were much more intricate and elegant than the dresses available back home, and we gawked at them. Peasants who wore clothes as fine as the nobility? It was unheard of.

  Oran sniffed the air beside me. The town smelled nice, like fresh bread and roasted meat mingled with the salt of the sea. There were no urine buckets for the dyers to collect along the side of the road, and I saw nothing that suggested the women here threw stale water or waste out of their windows. Glass casings with glowing candles hung from hooks by the door of every house and shop, lighting the way as we marched.

  Dogs barked furiously at Oran, and I thumped him on the top of the head when he bared his teeth, his chest rumbling.

  “Mangy animals,” Oran grumbled.

  “They’re your cousins,” I pointed out.

  Oran didn’t reply.

  The prince stopped at a particularly large, box-like building. It was whitewashed with blue trim and a swinging wooden sign that read King’s Hall Inn. A portly, flushed woman met him at the door, bowing low before stepping back so he could enter.

  “Sara,” Cadeyrn acknowledged.

  The woman waved a pretty white lace handkerchief at a large room beyond.

  “Everything has been made ready, Your Highness. We have been preparing the inn since your man came with news of your arrival,” Sara said cheerfully.

  Cadeyrn smiled at her before moving past.

  The room we entered was large with polished wooden tables and chairs. A large hearth made up the entire back wall, and a dancing, popping blaze burned brightly within it. It wasn’t cool enough yet for a fire, but Reenah had indicated the temperatures tended to drop at night. Steaming food covered the tables, and I saw Daegan rub his stomach absently as Cadeyrn took a seat at the head of one of the larger ones.

  He gestured at the chairs.

  “Sit,” he ordered.

  We joined him. Sara glanced at us warily as she passed, our foreign appearance room for unease.

  “The wolf, sire?” Sara asked.

  Cadeyrn waved his hand dismissively. “He can sit by the hearth. Feed him meat. Fresh if possible.”