Trade between towns was currently scarce to nonexistent because none could agree on a standardized price for everyday goods. Raimie didn’t want to stifle free trade, but he wasn’t sure what else a monarch could do to alleviate such a problem besides setting the price by law.
Economics had never been his strongest subject. He’d received a thorough education in it, but something about the way money worked on a macro scale soared over his head. Perhaps this problem was best relinquished to Eledis who could discuss economic theory with gusto until someone stopped him.
Then, there was the pirate problem. Representatives from coastal villages had raised this issue. Apparently, pirates had been raiding along the coast for the last six months, flying black and green colors. They’d taken a step beyond the raping and pillaging in which pirates typically reveled, going so far as to kidnap young, healthy children from their homes. If these pirates claimed status as the infamous Serpent Pirate Crew as Raimie thought they would, then he’d only one guess as to what had happened to the children. That Crew was renowned for its ample supply of merchandise for the Southern Kingdoms’ slave markets.
Several parents had come with their towns’ mayors to appeal for Raimie’s aid. They’d cried for lost children, begging for someone, anyone, to bring their loved ones home or, if impossible, to avenge them.
Raimie longed to answer their pleas, but what could he do against pirates? Auden had no navy. The ships he’d taken from Ada’ir had long been returned to their rightful owner. While he may possess an army with which to guard coastal towns, it wasn’t expansive enough to accomplish that duty while also patrolling roads, fighting bandits, and searching for Doldimar, along with every other task assigned it.
“You could always handle them yourself,” Nylion commented, walking around Raimie to perch on the table.
While a good suggestion, Raimie didn’t know how he’d execute such a plan. The pirate’s point of origin was unknown, and he didn’t own a boat.
“You are King of Auden, heart of my heart,” Nylion stated with a laugh. “Commandeer one. As to the pirate base's location, it cannot be far, considering how often they raid. The only landmasses large enough to sustain a small settlement are the three islands not far from Nephiron. The pirates could be sailing from beyond the mountains, but I find that scenario highly unlikely. Nothing but frozen wastes lie to the north.”
Could what seemed a complicated problem have such a simple solution? Raimie couldn’t wait to find out. If this one unraveled so easily, perhaps others could, given time.
“Quill,” the Vasnavai demanded, breaking Raimie’s reverie.
“Everything is in order?” he asked.
“Am aesking for quill with which to sign, nu?”
“Fair enough,” Raimie laughed, and Eledis presented the requested item.
After signing the bottom of the treaty’s final page, Vasnavai Dyomina slid it to Raimie. He followed suit and in so doing, both opened a trade avenue for Auden and linked his people with the Matvai.
“If finished with straenge Audish custom, maey we drink?” the Vasnavai asked. “Would like to celebrate our agreement by sharing glass of vodka.”
“Forgive me, Dyomina, but I must beg off,” Raimie told her with a grimace. “I’ve a personal matter to attend to this evening, but perhaps we can drink tomorrow.”
“I’ll huld yu tu it, King Raimie,” Dyomina said as she stood.
Raimie followed her example, bowing as she made her exit.
“So, you remain intent on your foolishness?” Eledis asked.
“I haven’t changed my mind since the last time you asked.”
“This is a mistake…”
“Thank you for your opinion, Eledis, but I believe I’m late for my next appointment,” Raimie told his grandfather.
He sprinted from the room, forcing Thumb into a run as well. He hadn’t lied. His presence was required in the gardens by sunset, and the sun steadily neared the horizon.
Raimie wasn’t so far behind, however, that he’d use Ele for speed. Not only would such use be a waste, but it would leave Thumb behind, something he wasn’t the least bit tempted to try today.
One stop must be made before the gardens. Taking a slight detour, Raimie noisily rapped on the door once he’d arrived. Ring quickly answered, temporarily returned from her tour of Auden. She yanked him inside, slamming the door in Thumb’s face.
“Clothes off,” the spy demanded, already tugging on his vest.
“What?” Raimie blushed. “Ring…”
“Oh, Alouin, he’s modest. Of course, he is,” Ring muttered. “Don’t worry, sir, You’re not my type. Please take your clothes off. I need you in there.”
She pointed at a large tub, filled with sudsy water.
“A bath? You want me to take a bath?” Raimie asked, fumbling with buttons.
“Trust me, it’ll be appreciated.”
Once he’d peeled off the uniform, Raimie climbed into the tub while Ring faced a wall. The water was lukewarm, a testament to how long today's duties had spilled over. The bath’s tepidity didn’t stop him from sinking in with a sigh.
“You can work your magic now,” Raimie told Ring.
Rolling up her sleeves, she sopped his hair with suds while he scrubbed his body. Once finished, he climbed from the tub, dripping water everywhere, and when he’d dried himself, Ring handed him his new uniform. As he dressed, Raimie noted the two changes which had been made to it.
On the collar, two embroidered circles, one black and one white, bordered the uniform’s midline. For years, Raimie had fought for no insignia to be assigned him. He despised being singled out, and while it couldn’t be helped in some cases, such as when a nation forced its throne upon him, he refused to accept visible symbols of his unique position.
His personal feelings had been set aside, however, following his first meeting as king with his new ministers. During the meeting, Raimie had revealed his intention to organize a primeancer school. The revelation had not gone over well. In the end, his ministers had made him agree to a single stipulation before approving his plan’s commencement. A uniform and unique insignia would distinguish the school’s students from palace residents.
Raimie despised the idea of differentiating the people to whom he’d promised safety. They already faced a constant threat of violence. Why further stand them out to norms who might harm them? But he couldn’t otherwise convince his ministers to finance and support an institution he hoped would one day prove a primeancer haven.
Singling out his fellow Ele and Daevetch users while concealing himself, however, had turned Raimie’s stomach. So, when next the opportunity arose for a uniform to be tailored for him, he'd requested the primeancer insignia added to it. He'd thought it would be big and gaudy, something which drew the eye. This though-Raimie touched the two bumps at his neck-he could live with this. Small, subtle, ignorable unless one knew what to seek, they could easily replace the lack of insignia of which he’d grown fond over the years.
The other change came to his weapons. His ragged belt had been replaced with freshly oiled, black leather, and his scabbards also shone as though recently fashioned. A line of obsidian ran down their bodies, glistening against leather, and caps of solid silver covered their chapes.
Yes, that’s right. Scabbards as in more than one.
“Why is this here?” Raimie asked, distastefully dangling Shadowsteal between two fingers.
“It was requested, sir, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint, would we?” Ring asked under her breath as she straightened his vest’s hem.
Making a face, Raimie reluctantly clasped the cursed sword to his hip. At least he was allowed to also keep Silverblade this time.
He knew what came next, so it was without prompting that Raimie carefully folded into a pulled-out chair. Ring took a razor to his hair, smoothing it back with syrupy paste once she’d finished the cut. Coming around to face him, she retrieved her kohl pencil, and Raimie winced. He tried very hard
not to blink or flinch while she lightly darkened his eyes’ outer corners and brushed the tip across his lashes. She leaned back, pursing her lips.
“Best I can do,” she breathed, slapping her knees. “Get out of here, sir, and good luck.”
“Thank you,” Raimie said through a suddenly dry mouth.
“You certainly smell nice, sir,” Thumb smirked as he brushed past, “and you’re carrying Shadowsteal! How delightful!”
Whirling, Raimie poked a finger toward the spy’s face. “I will have you assigned to the most boring detail I can devise if you don’t silently follow me to the gardens. Am I understood?”
If anything, the smirk widened, but Thumb nodded acceptance.
Raimie hurried along at a much slower pace than he had to Ring’s quarters. He worried that, at a faster rate, he might undo the spy’s hard work. In any case, he needn’t have worried about timing. The gardens towered over him when the sun kissed the skyline.
Thumb took up watch on the outskirts of Uduli’s mini jungle. He’d keep unwanted intruders at bay.
Raimie headed for the gardens’ cliff side, in the opposite direction of the Matvai delegation’s campsite. Such bad memories here. A loathsome mass of liquefied human remains mixed with the soil underfoot, but today would hopefully supplant the dark images in his head with brighter ones.
The tree line broke, and Raimie flung a hand to shield his eyes from the sun’s piercing rays. Between his fingers, the sky acquired a rosy hue, and evening’s daily magic sprang to life, turning the very air into a picture of beauty. Soon, dusk would fall, ending the enchantment, but they’d have this hour of perfectly pitched glow.
Eyes adjusted, Raimie removed the obstacle to his sight and sucked in a breath. Ren grinned at him from the cliff’s edge, and he'd never seen anything lovelier. She’d arranged her black hair in loops and whirls with straggling strands dangling to frame her face. Light rays beamed through it, haloing the sculpted mane with an orange bloom. Ring must have painted her face because black rimmed her gray eyes and her lips were apple red. She wore… he wasn’t sure what she was wearing.
A shiny, black fabric sheathed her body, accentuating every curve which, over the years, Raimie had failed to see, but over that, a gossamer thin, white fabric delicately floated. Entangled in this outer layer, Ele bundles twinkled at him.
Raimie raised questioning eyes to his friend. Kheled was tensed from his proximity to the great height nearby, but he set aside his fear to acknowledge Raimie’s curiosity and shake his head. If his friend wasn’t supplying Ele, who was? Kheled tilted his head toward Ren, whose smile had begun to falter, and Raimie was beside her in an instant, clasping her hands.
“You’re stunning!” he murmured, his words stabilizing her grin.
“Not bad yourself, hot stuff,” she replied. “It’s illusion work, by the way. The dress is, I mean. I don’t have access to a full-blood Eselan’s magic, but what I can do, I’m damn good at, as you can see.”
Yet another example of why Raimie loved her. She’d recognized his curiosity and known it would gnaw at him until she explained. Leaning forward, he kissed the tip of her nose.
“Thank you.”
Ren flushed a dark red, incoherently mumbling.
“I suppose that means both of you are sure about this,” Kheled said with a laugh.
“I’m sure,” Raimie and Ren informed him in the same breath, which set them into a giggling fit.
“Sickeningly adorable.” Kheled rolled his eyes. “If you can control yourselves, we can start.”
He gave them two, thin, blood-red sticks, each about half a foot long. “When you’re ready, break the package, but be aware that once the process begins, nothing can stop it. You’ll be Joined for life.”
“You’re sure this will work?” Raimie asked his friend while accepting the proffered item.
“You survived the Joining with me in Allanovian. This one will be much more intense and permanent, but I see no reason for it to fail,” Kheled replied. “Why? Having second thoughts?”
None. Meeting Ren’s eyes, Raimie lifted the slender stick distilled from her blood, and upon breaking it, he breathed her in.
Her life rushed by in fits and starts. Most of the pauses involved her brother. Kheled telling her impossible stories. Kheled amazing her with displays of white light. Her admonishing Kheled’s invisible shadow.
A few he’d already seen. She clung, sobbing, to the brother she’d thought long dead.
Others he hadn’t. Kylorian twirled her in a circle, peppering her head with kisses. Dury praised her for the accuracy with which she’d tossed her throwing dagger. An unfamiliar boy whispered sweet nothings in her ear before silencing her giggles with a kiss, and she succumbed to long-repressed passion.
A bittersweet lash accompanied the last two. The first Raimie understood. Riadur clung to life after the beating he’d received at the investiture, and Kheled had privately told him the leader of Tiro’s prospects were grim. Of course sorrow accompanied the joyful memory of her adoptive father.
As for the second, Raimie was at a loss. He couldn’t help his own, irrational flash of jealousy, even knowing the memory came long before him. Perhaps the relationship had ended poorly, and its disastrous culmination was why Ren viewed what should be a happy memory with an odd mixture of regret. Curiosity nagged at him, but it was swept away by the insistent flow of her memories.
Surprisingly, the ones which lasted the longest centered on him.
She followed the strange boy, hardly daring to hope, and her fingers caressed daggers’ hilts for when he proved to be a liar. Once more, the boy nearly tripped, his clumsiness almost amusing. A smile tugged at her lips. The boy eventually dragged her name from her, and a pop broke the forest’s stillness. Someone pinned her to a tree, but before she could resist the hold, her enemy’s face registered. It was older, more weathered, but definitely him. The boy hadn’t lied.
She watched Raimie practice his forms in the sand. His level of blade mastery was impressive, considering from where he came. Leisurely running her eyes over the uniform he wore, she could almost imagine him as a fabled soldier of the old Audish army. In the midst of a spin, Raimie noticed her, and as if prompted by her presence, his forms adapted and changed, shifting into a graceful dance. For some reason, her heart quickened in her chest, but Kheled had to go and ruin it, yelling for Raimie’s attention.
Raimie’s eyes glistened as he observed his weary men’s ragged frames. Their wellbeing honestly concerned him, and that depth of compassion gave her the courage she’d sought over the last several days. She pulled him to her, and when their lips came together, she knew. He was the one she’d spend her life chasing.
A series of snapshots followed. Introducing Raimie to Sigemond, her closest confidant. Hiking outside Tiro’s walls while listening to him ramble about the forest’s similarities to his homeland. Watching him grow to love her country and her people, slowly incorporating more of them into his ‘family’. Wondering what tragedy had befallen him that he required a replacement for his blood kin. Joining him in morning training sessions and laughing when her triumph in sparring contests surprised him. Laboring to surmount the ever-present barrier which prevented her initial touch from eliciting anything but fear. Relief he wanted her despite the harm she’d done him and the years which had passed. Her heart in her throat when he’d returned from Qena in a wagon and she’d thought him a corpse. Furtive meetings during his recovery where they made plans.
The Joining should end with those memories. Kheled had taken blood samples from each of them soon after those meetings, once he’d thought Raimie stable enough to part with more of his life’s blood. It didn’t conclude, however, moving beyond the last memory with ease.
A dreamlike state spilled over him, and Raimie became Raimie-Ren. They watched their loved one emerge from the jungle, squinting and shielding his eyes, and oh, he was beautiful. Ring had done a marvelous job. They’d have to thank her later, especially for con
vincing their stubborn man to wear the sword he loathed. They knew eventually, he’d need Shadowsteal, and despite his reluctance, he required practice with it if he was to survive Doldimar’s eventual return.
That was a time far in the future. Now, their man lowered his hand and blinked at them, and they blushed at the pleasure crossing his face. With the sun shining directly on him, they knew how he must feel. They needed him to move closer, closer, so they could oh so carefully caress his face, complete the Joining, and find somewhere quiet to be alone together.
The scene skipped, and he stood across from them, absently holding the broken ends of his powdered blood stick. His eyes were wide, face slack, and they momentarily worried the Joining had fried his mind, despite their brother’s assurances, but his brilliant blue eyes focused on them. He stopped close and leaned down and oh, oh, OH! All was right with the world because they were one and they’d never need anything but each other. The world and its problems could die with a whimper because, together, they were stronger than the world.
The world must have taken some offense to that because it lurched. Suddenly, solitary Raimie kissed solitary Ren, and while this felt nice, it was a faint shadow of what they’d had. They broke apart, gasping, and Kheled chuckled.
“That was…” Nylion whispered nearby. “We had that when we were children, didn’t we? Heart of my heart, we have to-”
Get it back. We HAVE to get it back.
Abruptly, Raimie’s bad leg protested how long he’d supported his weight with it, and he wobbled. Kheled steadied him, helping him to the ground, and Ren knelt beside him.
“Give it a minute,” Kheled told them. “You’ll feel normal soon enough. And congratulations. By Esela standards, you’re husband and wife.”
His footsteps retreated toward the palace, leaving them alone. The sun’s crown had yet to disappear behind the horizon, and while dusk steadily encroached, it hadn’t completely erased the play of colors in the sky. Raimie offered his hand, and Ren curled hers around it, scooting closer to lean against him. They stayed there, watching the sunset until light faded and stars popped into view overhead.
A King's Caution (The Eternal War Book 2) Page 53