Reckoning

by T. J. Michaels

  “Well, one good turn deserves another,” he said with a wink and a devilish smile.

  From the warrior who had once forbidden her to wear anything but the sarand, she now received the finest and most beautifully made fighting gear and workout clothes done in a cross of the Draeman and Gaian styles. Her man had style and she recognized the quality that went into each and every piece.

  And it was all for her.

  By the time he placed the final two packages in her hands she was in tears, overwhelmed by the generosity of this fierce, yet tender man. One box contained a finely wrought gold ring with an ancient Gaian blessing engraved on the inside. On the outside, instead of the sigil of the Wind Storm, RuArk had created a swirling combination of lines and symbols that brought together the Wind Storm and the Fire Storm to create a new sigil symbolizing the gathering of the Storms.

  He slipped the ring on her finger and waited. Rhia sat down heavily in a chair and just looked at her hand for long moments.

  “It’s feminine, yet sturdy, just like you. Do you like it?”

  When she could take her eyes off the ring, she stood and kissed her husband on the cheek, but still said nothing. There were no words that fit what she was feeling—the piece symbolized the intertwining of their lives. Her father had been right from the very beginning—she would never be alone as long as RuArk had breath in his body.

  “I’ll take that as a yes?” he queried.

  She nodded dumbly as he took her hands and placed the final gift into her trembling fingers.

  This last box contained a dagger wrought of the finest hardened black steel. At first glance, it looked identical to her mother’s, which she always carried. When she looked a little closer, the saw that the forging and style of the weapons were unique enough that she could tell them apart.

  “This was made for you, my love. While you may look like your wonderful mother, you are not her,” RuArk said. “You are yourself, your own woman, and I love everything about you. I hope that you can leave the past behind and move forward into a future of your own making.”

  She looked up, throat clogged with tears, and whispered, “No. A future of our making.”

  She got it. She truly knew what he’d been trying to show her all along. She was Rhia. No one else. There was no need to try to emulate anyone else. She was respected and loved simply because she was herself. And that was enough.

  She removed her mother’s dagger from the little sheath that was always strapped around her thigh. She held it up to the light and examined the expertly crafted blade. The hilt, beautifully inlaid with gold and silver, was somewhat worn now. She stood and turned to her father with shimmering eyes and a watery smile. She took his hand and presented her mother’s blade to the High Counsel.

  “She would want you to have this, Father. For a long time, it was my link to her, my way of reaching out to her so I wouldn’t feel so alone. But I’m not alone anymore. She would want you to live again. As you begin to do so, remember her with fondness. Not with grief.”

  Wrapped in her father’s arms, hot tears ran down her cheeks—a mix of her own and his. It was a bittersweet moment that she would remember forever.

  Once back in her seat, RuArk took her hand and gave an affectionate squeeze, but in his eyes were unspoken promises of things to come as soon as her time of recovery from the birthing was done.

  At the calls of cheer that circled the room, Taté Icamna would not be left out of the festivities. From their cradle near the high table, Relaina Grey slumbered but her brother let out a rafter-shaking wail that declared a feeding would happen now and the rest of New Spring be damned.

  * * * * *

  The three-day celebration had gone off without a hitch and, once again, everyone headed home. Thankfully, the weather was cooperating nicely for those who had to travel. Though it was somewhat chilly in the early hours, there was very little wind. A late night rain had fallen and morning dawned with clear blue skies.

  Evidence of the new season spread quickly. Lush green fields and newly budding trees were abundant, just as they’d been when they’d arrived at this same time last spring.

  Marth and Linc’s parents had instantly loved Joan and they’d all gotten along splendidly. Now, all the Gaian in-laws were packed up and ready for the trip across the river to RuArk’s private home at Wind Song. From there, the King and Queen would go to the high seat of Miwatan to the east, while the O’dann’s would ride for their home in the Plains to the northeast.

  The High Counsel and Joan’s parents headed for the train depot in central Draema Neine for their ride back to the High City. RuArk sent two fireteams with them to make sure they cleared the passes down out of the mountains safely. New Spring may have been a fabulous affair, but he had not forgotten the threat that loomed over Rhia’s life. While it had been strangely quiet for months, he didn’t believe for a second that the danger had simply faded to nothing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The main hall was full of early risers eager to get about their daily training exercises. RuArk enjoyed his, and now Rhia’s, favorite breakfast of fresh, light, honey-soaked rolls, fluffy eggs and spicy poultry sausage.

  As he dined, his mind drifted back to the woman he’d left sleeping upstairs.

  A powerful squall had blown through and it seemed as if the very sky had opened up and decided to drown them all. For the past several weeks, there had been nothing but deluge after deluge. Strange, considering that the transition from spring to summer usually brought storms that were short and mild.

  He’d been sensing something with his Gift, but couldn’t pin it down. Something definitely niggled at the back of his mind. As much as he longed to see his wife and children, he hoped that they were already asleep so he could step into the Dream and seek out the Grandfather. Perhaps his elder could give him some guidance in this situation.

  RuArk climbed the staircase dead tired after helping his men clear the roads and trails of numerous fallen trees. He thought on Rhia as he opened the door to their apartments and stepped silently into the darkened living room. It was amazing having a bond with a woman as complex as she was loving. Though she was still stubborn as all creation, she hid nothing of herself like before.

  He knew when he’d unwittingly hurt her feelings or pleased her without her saying a word. At times, he could literally hear her. He also knew if she was engaged in something that she probably shouldn’t be... like taking Drefan’s boat across the river to Gaia when she had no idea how to sail it. He shook his head and grinned at that one.

  Weary and in need of a bath, he leaned against the door to their apartments, his back resting against the solid threshold. Eyes closed, he relaxed for a moment as his thoughts filled with Rhia. Though he considered her his own precious jewel, just two months ago, she’d given him the most wondrous gift—a son and a daughter.

  Suddenly the bond flared and RuArk physically jerked away from the door as if he’d been scalded. A rush of blood flooded his cock as lust fired through the synapses of his brain. Rhia was far from asleep. In fact, she beckoned him now with the most seductive thoughts she could muster and he felt every one of them.

  RuArk stripped as he moved toward the bathing room, leaving a trail of soaking wet clothing in his wake.

  “Come to me now. I’ll warm you up.”

  Changing direction, he dropped his breech at the bedroom door. The Grandfather could wait until tomorrow...

  Suddenly a commotion echoed in the hallway, yanking him out of his more pleasant thoughts. Damn it.

  “I must see the lord of the manor right now! Out of the way, you blasted tree! I’m a Draeman soldier and can go where I please!”

  The voice was unfamiliar. Several gazes left their breakfast and eyebrows rose, along with quite a few bodies. RuArk had no need to rise, but his lip did lift into a proud grin as warriors and their Draeman counterparts, who were almost a foot shorter than his men, made their way out of the hall side by side.

  It immediately
grew quiet. Too quiet.

  He had an appointment with the Grandfather that couldn’t be missed. First, he had to get to the little spot he’d found where Rhia wouldn’t walk in on him. If she knew he’d been walking the Dream in pursuit of the Dreadlord, she would try her best to string him up for not including her.

  Whatever was going on just now might make it difficult to get where he needed to be, unseen. Growling inwardly at the thought while watching the time, he waited.

  Moments later, Ewan, Osgar, Dalmore and Drefan entered. Between them was a Draeman soldier who appeared somewhat pale.

  RuArk remained in his seat until the man stood before him. He looked like no Draeman RuArk had ever seen. The province had been a safe haven of people after the Breaking with a population that had mixed so much, they long ago began to look as if they were one race rather than several.

  According to the histories, hair and eyes in a wide variety of browns was the norm for the last two hundred years. This man was all flaming red hair and a beard to match, with vivid green eyes that stood out in his smooth, fine boned face. No scratches or scars made RuArk wonder if the boy had ever been in a fight.

  “What is your name?” asked RuArk.

  “My name is Larel Kohn. What’s yours?” snapped the young man. “Better yet, Gaian, stop asking me questions and get the Council of Seven rep for Province Springs.”

  “Council of Seven?” RuArk asked quietly, not bothering to hide his surprise. “Who?”

  “Yes, Council of Seven. I was given no name and no details on who was to receive the High Counsel’s message. I was only given a title and told that he was the husband of the First Heir, Rhia Greysomne.”

  RuArk went still as stone. Setting his napkin down on the table, he met Larel’s gaze and let the cold anger simmering just beneath the surface, shine brightly. “I believe I can help you with that, Larel.”

  “Good. This business is urgent, so if you could move a little faster, I would appreciate it.” The little whelp’s insolent roll of his eyes said otherwise. Who the hells was this man, and what did he really want? The High Counsel would not send such an ass to engage RuArk. And what was this Council of Seven rep business? The rep didn’t have a residence here in Province Springs anymore.

  Then again, a new soldier might be less likely to be in on a plot to remove Rhia from her rightful place. So just maybe...

  “What is your rank, Larel?”

  “I have just made First Blade three days ago. This is my first assignment for the Society of War in the High Counsel’s service.”

  Ah, well that explained the arrogance. All young men believed themselves invincible at this age. He should know given the number of times he’d attempted to fly when he should have still been crawling.

  “As you say, I’m Gaian...”

  “You don’t sound Gaian.”

  “I’m well-traveled,” RuArk said, and then let silence hang in the air a moment. His men followed his lead and kept quiet and alert. “As I was saying, I am Gaian and while I’m familiar with your province, I’ve never seen features quite like yours before.”

  The young man’s hair was such a fiery shade it looked as if it were on fire.

  “My parents came from the northeast, across the sea, when I was just old enough to start kinderschool. I have no Draeman blood in me, but thankfully, Draema welcomes all.” The last was said with a nasty snarl.

  Larel obviously had more on his mind, so RuArk took a sip of coffee, sat back in his chair and crossed his ankles. “Please, continue.”

  The men who’d previously surrounded Larel dispersed, some to strategic points around the room and others back to their tables to continue eating.

  “History says that the Gaian wouldn’t share their knowledge with us. The best and most experienced of Draeman Blademasters were turned away when seeking to learn from them. It’s hard to admit, but I’m having a difficult time dealing with the fact that Province Springs is overrun with...your kind.”

  So, they’d come to the crux of it—good old fashioned prejudice. The young soldier’s gaze traveled from Gaian warrior to Draeman solider. Each word had been said through a sneer, as if they all reeked of horse shit.

  The Gaian were often misjudged, their desire to keep to their own, except for trade, often seen as arrogance rather than a true commitment to their ways. Although Rhia’s mother was Gaian, she’d left her homeland to join with the High Counsel. Right here in Province Springs was the first time since the Breaking that there was truly a blending of Draeman and Gaian. Not just a joining in marriage, but scores of different people actually living, working and training together.

  RuArk’s people were already familiar with Draeman customs, or lack thereof. Though unbending in their beliefs and practices, they shared with those in Province Springs freely. It was an extension of their own home simply because the Protector was here.

  Okay, so maybe his people were a bit arrogant, but they were second to none in any case.

  RuArk hoped that this boy’s disdain for all things Gaian was not so ingrained that he wasn’t willing to learn about those he had come to hate.

  “My kind?” RuArk stood, slowly and with grave purpose. “Interesting choice of words. But while we’re in a sharing mood, I am RuArk Miwatani, second son to the King of Gaia and Protector of the Realm. Some call me Wind Storm.” Larel’s jaw dropped. “Others call me lifemate to Rhia Greysomne, and the man to whom the High Counsel has sent you.”

  The blood drained from the young man’s face. He blushed until his face was as red as his hair.

  “But the High Counsel said Council of Seven rep...”

  “Did he now?” RuArk asked.

  “Well, no. But I assumed... I-I apologize, sir. I truly meant no disrespect.”

  “Of course you did. I will be sure to inform the High Counsel of your lack of courtesy and common sense. Or... Perhaps I should summon the First Heir? I am sure she can give you a lesson or two in manners. Oh, wait, she’s not good enough to teach you anything. I’m sure you despise her.”

  The fire returned to Larel’s eyes as he said, “Of course I don’t despise her. She’s one of the greatest commanders the Society of War has ever seen. I’ve observed her classes. She’s magnificent! I haven’t had the privilege of stepping into the circle with the First Heir. No one ranked lower than First Blade is even allowed to participate in any of her training. Still, I just don’t see why she couldn’t marry one of her own.”

  “Yet she is half Gaian, so I am one of her own. Do you despise her now? Your answer should be interesting considering you are not Draeman either, yet I doubt there would be a problem if she’d married you.” Words deceptively calm, RuArk seethed, just waiting for this pup to say one disrespectful word about Rhia.

  “No! I mean yes. That’s not what I mean. Why would we give an entire township to the people who’ve refused hospitality to the Draeman since the Breaking?”

  “We have refused hospitality, you say? Were you awake during your history lessons in kinderschool? How do you think the High Counsel himself was able to marry a Gaian woman? Did she miraculously appear in the High City? Did the Sensuan you enjoy, who are all Gaian, just poof themselves into Draema?

  “The nonsense you spout gives proof of your lack of knowledge of the customs of the Gaian, therefore your feelings are understandable. However, they do not excuse your conduct toward me or my men. Our cultures have never had a strained relationship, simply one that respects my people’s desire to walk the ways of our Ancestors.

  “Friendship has always been solid between our leaders. The house of my Fathers has been in covenant with the High Counsels of your land since before the Breaking of the world. Perhaps you should spend more time studying and less time running headlong into stone walls. It causes brain damage.”

  Larel’s mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Good. He’d said enough for one day as far as RuArk was concerned. He only wanted one more thing from Larel. “Now, my young asshole, deliver your m
essage and we will see about ‘hospitality’ after.”

  Larel stiffened his spine, his mouth compressed into a thin line. For long moments, he said nothing.

  Finally, he took a long, deep breath and released it on a slow, even sigh. “I will accept whatever judgment you deem fair. It was wrong of me to allow my personal feelings to interfere with my duty. I will accept the consequences of my actions, sir.”

  RuArk nodded sternly as he held Larel’s gaze. He allowed his anger to seep away, knowing typical young male ambition and hot headedness when he saw it. Other than his fine features and slim build, young Larel reminded RuArk of himself when he’d just received his first rank of significance—overconfident and amazingly naïve about himself, his people and the world around him.

  Larel reached into the inner pocket of his traveling coat and retrieved a small metal-looking case. He handed it to RuArk.

  “It’s encoded. The High Counsel said to simply say ‘matted hair’ to you and you would know the password.

  RuArk chuckled. Good one, Grey. Very good indeed.

  He took a few steps away from Larel, flipped open the little tablet and tapped in the code—bird shit. The screen flashed bright blue then faded to a steely gray as words began to appear.

  “It’s from the High Counsel,” Larel said. “I rode as fast as I could. I even took the train to the Neine border, then rode by...”

  RuArk raised his hand for silence, reading the High Counsel’s note

  His expression grim, mouth and brows tightly drawn, he turned to Linc and Marth who had quietly joined him. “So it begins. We ride at dawn,” he said, striding away, handing the High Counsel’s note to Marth as he headed out of the hall.

  He stopped at the threshold and turned. His tone was stone cold. “None of you are to tell Rhia about any of this. It is for her safety and nothing comes before the safety of my woman. What you heard here stays here. All of you will meet me in the pasture on the other side of the township on the far side of the lake. Pack to ride fast and light. Even your fellow warriors are not to be told. Am I understood?”