Veriel's Tales: Night Warriors III

by Brenna Lyons

  Now, Marclef demanded to set aside the original agreement. He argued that the women agreed to wed men whose curse would end with them and give birth to fully human children to husbands who may, as any Soldat, be called to fight again for the village. What they would be agreeing to now would be very different. They would be marrying into a cursed line and producing cursed children of men who would be doomed to prowl the night to hunt down vicious beasts. Marclef proposed to ask each woman to reconsider her participation based on the new situation.

  That proclamation raised a riot among the warriors. They had persevered the waiting, upheld their half of the arrangement based on the participation of the whole group of fifteen women. The possibility of beasts had never been a secret. What if more than eight of them pulled out, leaving one or more of the warriors without a chosen mate? Not only would the future of fighting the beasts be weaker, but the unwed warriors would eventually go mad and have to be put to death.

  In addition, there was the unspoken concern many of them shared. As Gawen craved Bavin, several of the other men had developed a longing for a favorite – had, in effect, made their choices without benefit of claiming the woman in any way. Sibold knew it. They all knew it.

  Ditrich favored Anabilia. Pauwel had the look of a man fallen, but he kept the woman’s identity deeply hidden. Unlike the others who gave indication that their hearts were lost, he never gave a hint of the woman who caught his eye. If any of those women changed their minds— It was a death sentence for the man too far printed. All in all, this announcement was not what the warriors needed with beasts underfoot and the battle looming.

  On the other hand, the importance of the warriors established, they were granted their seals to protect their families in this time of need. The Lords of Jäger, KreuzStütze, KlingeStütze, Schmied, Landwirt, Kaufmann, and Maher took their places as true lord warriors. Sibold looked at the seals of their opposite numbers sadly before locking them away.

  Gawen sighed as his home came into view. Now he had to deal with Regana. He slipped in the door and took in the sight of his younger sister. Her hair was pulled back in a hasty thong behind her head, and she had obviously spent a great deal of time crying. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her cheeks were enflamed. As always when Regana was so upset, it tore his heart from his chest to see it. Gawen would do anything to make it right for her, but this time, he was at a loss.

  “Regana,” he soothed her as she cooked frantically.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she warned him.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I was upset.”

  “Apology accepted.” She pushed past him in annoyance.

  “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

  She looked at him in disbelief. “Everything is wrong,” she exploded as she chopped roots into the stew she was working on. Her hands were shaking so badly that he was afraid she would take her finger instead of the food.

  He reached for her hand to remove the knife, but she jerked away. Cursing himself, Gawen gripped her wrist and pried the knife from her fingers. Regana glared at him, and he released her wrist, keeping the knife from her.

  “Now, if you’re concerned about the beasts, don’t be. We can handle them. It happened before, in ancient times.”

  “I’m sure you will, Gawen,” she answered sarcastically. Regana started to walk away, but he took her by the arm and led her to a chair. She sat, looking uncomfortable and tense.

  “I can’t help you, if you won’t explain,” he informed her calmly.

  “There’s nothing to explain,” she protested heatedly.

  “If this is about Jörg,” he began.

  Regana shot him a seething glare that stopped him cold. “I told you I don’t want to discuss it. My friend is a traitor, and he is gone. His holdings are forfeit. What more is there to say, Gawen?” she demanded.

  He sighed raggedly. “I know you’re upset,” he began again.

  “Upset?” she stormed. “Upset doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m feeling right now.”

  “Should I give up now and try again when you’re calmer?” he asked in exasperation.

  “Give up on it forever. I never want to hear his name again,” she finished miserably.

  Gawen sighed. “As you wish. There is one thing we must discuss.”

  “And that is?”

  “This.” Gawen dangled an amulet before her eyes. “The beasts are loose. You must be protected. All the lords are protecting their families, now.”

  “You’re a lord.” She said it evenly, sadly, and Gawen could almost hear the statement in her mind that Jörg could have been a lord, too. Instead, he chose damnation.

  “Yes, and I must do this.”

  “I don’t want it,” she decided.

  “What?” he stormed. “Why not?”

  “It’s bad enough that you’re my lord now. That — thing means you own me. I won’t stand for it.”

  “It means nothing but that the beasts cannot touch you.”

  She shot him a look of mistrust.

  “Nothing has changed.”

  “Everything has changed,” she muttered.

  “I have no more power over you than I ever had.” Gawen ground his teeth. He had little enough as it was. “Yes, I have to approve a marriage for you, but if you are content to wed, I would not stand in your way. You know that.”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes rudely. “As if either of us have a choice in that,” she spat.

  “You do, now,” he assured her. “Marclef has decreed that any woman who so chooses may rescind her vow. None of you will be forced to wed the warriors. If you choose to keep your vow, you will abide by the rules of choosing. If not, you are freed.”

  Gawen felt his heart sink. If Regana pulled out, Sibold would be most put out. He had always claimed that the stone intended for her to be a lady to one of the young lords. He would not take it lightly if she balked him now. Still, it was not within either of their power to demand this of her. If she was unwilling, nothing could be done about it.

  Regana looked at him in shock. “Is it really that simple? Say the word, and I am free?”

  “Yes. The warriors are furious, but Marclef has the right to make that declaration.”

  She met his eyes sadly. “Then, I am not taking part in the choosing. I will not marry a warrior. I may never marry, if such is my choice.”

  “If this is about—”

  “It’s not,” she shot back, cutting him off cleanly.

  “Will you wear the amulet?”

  “As you wish,” she conceded.

  Gawen settled the amulet around her neck and recited the ancient blessing. “Durch die Götter, die uns alle schmiedeten, bewillige ich Ihnen den Schutz der Hausklingestütze Irgendwelche und die ganze unsere Art und Stämme legen das Leben nieder, um Ihr vom Übel zu Konservieren, das unter uns geht. Weg jetzt gesegnet unter uns.” He sealed the blessing by brushing his lips over her forehead.

  Regana nodded quietly. “May I continue cooking now, Gawen?”

  “In a moment. Why have you removed yourself from the choosing?”

  “Because, it is my right to do so,” she countered smoothly.

  “Did Jörg make some promise I should know about?”

  “Jörg? He was a hopeless child who is now a beast. I don’t want to discuss him.”

  “Then, why?” he prodded.

  “Because, I will not marry a warrior. Not now. Not ever,” she promised.

  “Because they must fight the beasts now?” he asked.

  “That’s not reason enough?” she inquired in disbelief.

  Gawen sighed and nodded. “I hope you’ll reconsider. You can, anytime you like.”

  “I won’t,” Regana decided as she snatched her knife away and went back to cooking.

  * * * *

  Jörg materialized well after nightfall. He was so miserable that he couldn’t even find amusement in the clumsy attempts his damned brethren made at the job.

  His firs
t effort after materializing was speeding off into the night to check the progress of the enemy approaching. That done, he had no problems tracking the others.

  Resten sneered, as Jörg materialized in their midst. “What do you want?” he growled.

  “Do you intend to keep your word?” he asked. “Will you fight to keep your place?”

  “I thought you believed the promise was a lie,” Carstol shot back miserably.

  “I still do. I fight because I gave my word when I started training. I asked if you intended to do it.”

  Cerran nodded. “It is our only hope of peace. We must.”

  “Good. If you start out now, you can reach them in three days walking speed for you, since you know no other way of travel.” He grinned. “Perhaps, four for all of you. That will give you several nights to experiment with killing lone soldiers before the main battle. Your beasts will help you learn.”

  “How could you know that?” Draden asked.

  “I have just returned from scouting their location.”

  “How?” Resten demanded. “Tell us how you move.”

  “Ask your beast. You wanted it. Learn from it, if you dare. I have what I need.”

  “Will you come with us?” Lorian asked in his quiet way.

  “I will be there for the battle, and to lead you to the battle. I can find you when I have need to find you.” A cold smile touched his lips. “Why should I be uncomfortable until then?” He looked to the sky and took a deep breath of the night air. “You should go now. The moon is already high.”

  He dematerialized smoothly and stayed to hear them cursing him, cursing themselves and their choice, and deciding to go. The others had no sense of him, and for that Jörg was glad. It gave him yet another advantage that they could never know when he watched them unless he wished it, even if he didn’t expend the energy required to hide himself from the warriors.

  They left, still cursing their inability to utilize the immense power they had chosen. They needed the practice, and they knew it. If Jörg was lucky, they might even get themselves seriously injured enough to send them to ground for several days and make them easier for the warriors to pick off at the battle. Of course, Resten was the only one he could hope to rid himself of that way, he realized. He was the only one who saw a lord’s seal in the stone.

  On the other hand, if the beasts succeeded in their learning, it would only be the enemy they were killing off. Overall, killing off the incoming forces was a good plan no matter how it was accomplished.

  Jörg sped over the countryside to KlingeStütze lands. His heart sank as he looked at the house. It had once been his second home, where he chased Regana through the rooms while she squealed in delight. Gawen, who he had once considered a brother, was his mortal enemy. Regana was lost to him. Even if she didn’t turn from him, he had nothing to offer her now. Jörg had no kind emotions to spend on her. He could not give her children and be a husband to her, as she deserved. He pushed away the pain that ate at him at the loss he would always bear.

  He should have realized when he chose that place to go to ground that Regana would come there in her pain and grief as well. Her time there was torture for him. Disembodied, Jörg couldn’t touch her, couldn’t hold her as she deserved.

  If he could have chosen death at that moment just to hold her and ease her pain, he would have. But, he couldn’t. Being damned closed that door to him. Jörg could not choose death now. In addition, no matter what pain his continued existence cost her or himself, Jörg couldn’t die if he knew that there was any possibility that Regana needed him.

  Still, as Jörg lay below, he could hear her cursing him, and it hurt in a way he hadn’t realized he could hurt. Worse, Regana believed his love was a lie — or that it had become a lie at some point. He could imagine the salt of her tears as they mixed with the soil beneath her, as they mixed with him.

  Her goodbye burned him. Regana felt she had no future, now. Jörg understood her point. He had taken her maidenhead in the promise of marrying her — not even that at first, not until he came to the realization of what he had done. Now, many black futures fought to crush her because of his recklessness.

  She could admit the truth to Gawen. For his many faults, her brother doted on Regana. Still, Jörg wasn’t sure that even Gawen could protect her from the choosing ceremony now. If a warrior chose her and found her less than intact— He shuddered to consider the many possibilities.

  Even if no one chose her, and Jörg couldn’t imagine that happening, she would face the difficult task — perhaps impossible task of marrying at all without censure for her state of fall. A life with no man and no children was not one he would wish for Regana. As much as it would kill Jörg to see her in another man’s bed, better that than alone, childless, beaten or dead.

  One thing he realized immediately was that he owed her an explanation. Jörg couldn’t tell her the whole truth. That much was certain. Knowing the others had used her against him would crush her. Whatever lie he told her depended on one key element. Regana could never think it was her fault. He could never let there be a seed of doubt on that point. Now, after hours of thought, he believed he had the perfect story to ease her mind. She would know that he felt he had no choice but not that the entire plan hinged on her.

  He hid himself, what the stone called ghosting. Jörg couldn’t take the chance of Gawen sensing him before he had a chance to talk to Regana. He had to speak to her alone. Perhaps, after he had convinced her, he could convince Gawen to make a pact with him. He had to put her at ease somehow.

  The sight of Gawen sitting up awake shook him. He hadn’t counted on that. It was more than halfway through the night. He had planned for Gawen to be lost in sleep in his bed, not vigilant.

  Worse, the older man had such a sad look on his face that Jörg started. He shouldn’t feel for his former friend. He was promised no kinder emotions. Still, he could almost swear he felt something resembling compassion for his former brother. It shouldn’t be possible, and so he dismissed it. The gods could not be so cruel. Gifted as he was, damned as he was, they could not damn Jörg further with kind emotions he had no hopes of acting on.

  One look at Regana made him curse the gods who damned him so completely. He still felt for her. He felt not only the longing and pain but also the love. She looked so beautiful in sleep that his mind flashed onto a hundred memories of her smile. He wanted to see her smile, to be the one to make her smile again.

  Jörg sat lightly on the edge of her bed and reached to run his hand along her cheek. The blast that pushed him away was painful, and his mind supplied the answer for him automatically. His gaze locked on the amulet that lay over her breast as she scrambled to the wall, shocked awake by the reaction. Regana held the cover to her chest like a shield, and her eyes were wide and frightened.

  He ached at the fear in her eyes. “Regana, please,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you.”

  Jörg startled as the door swung open. He had been so shocked, he had forgotten to ghost. Or, was it her amulet that summoned Gawen? He dematerialized as the warrior shot through the door with his weapons drawn.

  Gawen moved to shield his sister, and his Blutjagd was like a fire that surrounded them both. “I know you’re still here,” he spat. “Show yourself or go.”

  Jörg streamed out into the night, and then he ghosted and came back.

  Believing his foe departed, Gawen sheathed his weapons and ran a gentle hand over Regana’s tear-streaked cheeks. “Are you all right?” he crooned to her.

  Regana wrapped her arms around her waist and her shift strained against her chest in a way that reminded Jörg of their stolen moments together. She nodded mutely.

  “Did he touch you?” Gawen’s voice was gruff in barely controlled bloodlust.

  Jörg felt anger at his assumption that he would— He realized how truly damned he was. He had done precisely what Gawen accused him of before he touched the stone.

  “Did he?” he demanded.

  “My ch
eek. He touched only my cheek,” she replied brokenly.

  Gawen groaned and sank to the bed. He gathered her to his chest gently and held her while she cried. “It’s all right, little one,” he soothed her, as Jörg had seen him do so many times before. “Veriel is gone from here.”

  Jörg started. The stone hadn’t named him that. The stone had not named him at all. How dare they brand him with the name of the mad deceiver? He looked at Regana’s broken state and streamed away miserably, his anger forgotten. Perhaps, the one who named him wasn’t so wrong after all. Veriel, the destroyer of lives—

  Chapter Three

  Pauwel took to his feet as Gawen stormed into the training area. The older man was furious. Whatever was wrong could not be a small thing. The other warriors sensed it, too. They were gathered around him as he faced Sibold.

  “We must hunt the beasts,” Gawen demanded. “It cannot wait any longer.”

  “Gawen, Marclef is correct. Between the upcoming battle and the training required, we cannot undertake it at this time. We must wait.”

  “Then, I hunt them myself,” he roared.

  “What has happened? What has made you lust for their blood?” Sibold asked.

  “Veriel—” He took a deep breath and shook his head before continuing in a cold voice. “The beast Veriel came for Regana last night.”

  “What?” Pauwel thundered. His heartbeat had taken on an alarming cadence. His brother warriors covered his explosion with demands for information of their own.

  Pauwel barely heard Gawen’s answers to them. “She is shaken, but she is fine. No, her amulet protected her. He touched her cheek.”