by Ryan Wieser
Jessop shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe it has everything to do with you.”
Falco stepped out of the water and approached her, his eyes fixed on hers. “You saw much of her body today, in her robes.”
Jessop crossed and uncrossed her arms. “Yes, what of it?”
He rested his wet hands on her shoulders, his fingertips rubbing her neck. “Though she holds a blade, Mar’e Makenen bears no scars.”
Jessop hadn’t really looked, but she trusted Falco was right. “That may just be a testament to her skill.”
“What it testifies to is a history she does not share with me. It was not Mar’e Makenen who lost flesh for my cause.” At his words, his hands traveled over her back, her lash scars.
His hands danced over her hips, up her stomach. “It was not Mar’e Makenen who carried my son for so many moons, bringing me my greatest joy.”
He rested his palm against her most recent scar—Kohl’s stab wound. “She did not nearly die to ensure my place in the Blade and the rightful future for my son.”
Jessop smiled softly up to him, inching her body closer to his. He moved a loose strand of hair out of her face. He tilted his head low, his lips nearing hers. “I don’t care if she couldn’t take her eyes off me. My eyes are always only ever on you.”
* * * *
Jessop woke early the following morning, making her way through the silent Blade, down to the Hollow. Dinner the previous night had been for the most part enjoyable; Dezane and Trax had held the group captive with many stories of their family, much reminiscing and an even greater amount of catching up. Jessop and Falco recognized many names out of their long-shared history with the Kuroi tribal leader, but Jessop found herself most amazed by Trax. They had mind-shared early in their friendship, but neither the insight into his past nor any conversation he had ever had with her had reflected such a joyous demeanor as the one she had seen that night; a recollection of some happier past long since left behind.
She delighted in seeing him reunited with his father, who was so like a father to herself and Falco. Mar’e hadn’t even managed to agitate her. She spoke to Falco and made her small barbed comments, but Jessop wouldn’t be provoked. Not when she had waited so long for the Kuroi to arrive. She had learned that Mar’e served as an advisor to Dezane, information that surprised Jessop. Dezane openly spoke of Mar’e, her growth and maturation. As he beamed with pride, Jessop felt a twist of discontent in her stomach. Dezane had favored her in childhood. She hadn’t thought that in her absence, Mar’e would have been the one to take her place.
To Jessop’s annoyance, she found the Hollow to be occupied, by none other than Mar’e and Trax. Jessop watched them silently from above as they sparred. She knew Trax’s skill, but witnessing that of her former friend was most captivating. Mar’e had been trained well. She wasn’t the most poised fighter, relying on strength and aggression over grace or skill, but she was good. She lunged with force; she threw her body low and leapt high, grunting and hissing with each move. Trax was her superior, undoubtedly—but she made him sweat.
Jessop crossed her arms over her chest, watching the two as they darted about the Hollow. They ducked through the ropes, leapt about the levitating platforms, and circled the fiery pits. Finally, as Mar’e swung too eagerly, Trax disarmed her. Slowly, Jessop clapped for them. Startled, they both jolted about to see her. With an easy flip, Jessop dove into the Hollow. She landed firmly on her feet, bending her knee to absorb the impact, one hand on the black gem hilt of her blade.
She smiled tightly. “Trax, do you have a second round in you?”
He smiled back at her, but before he could answer, Mar’e spoke up. She took a keen step towards Jessop. “I’ll duel you, Jessop.”
Jessop eyed the woman slowly, and suppressed a bemused smile. “Absolutely not.”
The bright-eyed woman cocked her head to the side, her mess of long braids falling over her shoulder. “And why is that?”
Jessop narrowed her gaze at her old friend incredulously. “No insult intended, Mar’e, for I have seen your skill, but you simply aren’t capable.”
Mar’e took a step back, glowering. “That’s not—”
Before she could say another word, Jessop was in her mind. She had spent so long concealing her abilities, her true nature, that acting with deliberation and power once again was liberating. She answered to no one. She wouldn’t continue to be disrespected by anyone, least of all by a long-since-abandoned friend.
Jessop smiled at her slowly. “You were saying?”
The Kuroi woman’s full lips trembled as she tried to answer Jessop; her glowing eyes widened. Jessop watched as Mar’e struggled for her sword, unable to move a muscle, trapped in her own body by Jessop’s mind.
Jessop reached out slowly, one finger extended, and stroked Mare’s cheek. “Reach for your sword, friend.”
The woman grunted inaudibly, angry and shaken, trapped by paralysis. Jessop uncoiled her hand and cupped Mar’e’s smooth cheek, letting her thumb run over her quivering lip. She took a step towards her and leaned as close as possible, her lips grazing Mar’e’s warm, dark skin as she spoke. “You are not competition for me, friend. Not with the blade, not with Falco.”
“Jessop,” Trax spoke, urging her to let up on Mar’e.
Slowly, she pulled away from Mar’e, smiling at her as she freed her. Mar’e stumbled, her hand fumbling on her hilt, her body shaking. She had likely never been under the control of Sentio before and Jessop couldn’t deny relishing in upsetting the other woman.
Mar’e glared at Jessop. “That’s not true, if—”
Before she could speak further, Trax interrupted. “It is true. Mar’e, none of us could truly fight Jessop, none but…”
“None but me.”
Falco’s voice surprised them all. Jessop looked up and saw him standing at the lip of the Hollow, Jeco in his arms. She had been too occupied by Mar’e to feel his presence.
Falco shifted their son in his arms. “Trax, would you please look after Jeco? My wife needs a sparring partner. A capable one.”
Jessop noted how Mar’e stirred at Falco’s words; he knew of their conversation already. She knew that the extent of their abilities could be very startling for some. Trax leapt from the Hollow floor, graceful and silent as he landed beside Falco. Mar’e gave Jessop a wide berth. Once out of arm’s reach, she scaled a long, worn rope, quickly finding her way out of the Hollow. As Trax took Jeco in his arms, Mar’e moved around them, eager to leave.
“Mar’e,” Falco stopped her. She slowly turned to face him, her glowing eyes wide.
He smiled to her. “Stay and watch.”
She shook her head, already pivoting away. “Actually, I would rather—”
Falco shook his head slowly. “It’s not a request.”
Slowly, Mar’e nodded. Falco smiled to her once more, and then leapt from the edge. He landed directly beside Jessop, so close that their linens grazed, but both knew his positioning had been deliberate. He ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “Well enough to spar, my love?”
Jessop kissed his fingers as they passed over her lip. “Indeed.” He smiled as he backed away from her, his hand falling from her face to his hilt.
They circled one another slowly, the excitement pulling a smile across Jessop’s face. It had been long—too long—since they had trained. She did not let her mind wander to her wound, to the scar Kohl had left on her. She remained focused, enjoying the rush of adrenaline, the anticipation building inside her.
Falco took easy steps backwards, his eyes never leaving hers. “Blades?”
Jessop nodded. “Blades.” She needed to try out the new weapon, the weapon which she had so longed for and had so nearly ended her life.
He changed footing, pacing counterclockwise. “Sentio?”
She smiled at him smugly, “Give it your best shot.”
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He smiled back at her. “I think I shall.”
Without another word, Falco shot his hand out and Jessop felt a wave of force pushing against her chest. She spun out, unsheathed her blade, and cut through the mystical energy with ease. Falco met her blade with his own, the two weapons crying out as they found one another. Jessop spun again, connecting a closed-fist back hand against Falco. She went to strike, but he blocked and forced her back with his blade.
They moved with unparalleled speed and precision, executing movements that would have left a lesser opponent stunned or dead. For every strike, there was a counter; for every move, a parry. Neither slowed, neither stumbled. They moved like a desert storm, a tunnel of wind ripping the world around them apart. She kicked him back and he flipped away; he lunged and she ducked; they fought not just sword against sword, but hand against hand. They covered the entire Hollow grounds—leaping across fiery pits, over floating platforms, scaling the walls and sliding across the ground.
Sweat drenched their linens, their brows, and both grew quick of breath after the long duel continued. For a time though, Jessop forgot about Mar’e. She forgot about their audience, she forgot about Kohl O’Hanlon and how he had nearly killed her. She forgot that the place they lived in had ever belonged to anyone but them. She forgot that they had a war to wage, and men to find and capture, men to find and kill. She forgot it all—because that was the effect Falco had on her. When they fought, as when they made love, the world was only theirs.
* * * *
Jessop was so embroiled in her fight that she never heard the conversation between Mar’e and Trax. As the Kuroi Councilman rocked Jeco back and forth in his arms, Mar’e watched the fight with wide-eyed shock. With gasps and shakes of her head, she finally turned to Trax.
She stared up at him, their yellow eyes connected. “They’re…terrifying.”
Trax nodded slowly. He had seen much when he mind-shared with Jessop, but to watch her fight with Falco, it was more than what he had seen that night in Okton-Radon, more than what he had ever imagined. They were unstoppable. Relentless in their assaults, they moved faster than any he had ever seen. He remembered Falco as a young boy, how impressive he had been then. His abilities had never peaked, it seemed, for he had grown stronger and more capable in his exile than anyone could have fathomed.
He could only think of the terror one would feel facing either in a true battle. He nodded to Mar’e slowly. “Imagine how Kohl O’Hanlon feels knowing these two are coming after him.”
Mar’e had heard the story—Dezane had told her what had transpired in the Glass Blade before their arrival. “He doesn’t stand a chance against them.”
Trax thought of Kohl and all that his fallen brother had endured at the hands of Jessop Bane. Kohl should have accepted Falco’s offer, to remain in the Blade and follow the rightful rule. He should have done a lot of things differently. But Trax had seen the way Kohl looked at Jessop; he had truly loved her, and he probably still did, even if it was masked as hatred. He turned his gaze back to the fight. The way Jessop moved with Falco, the way they acted as one, their eyes always on one another…
He readjusted Jeco in his arms. “Kohl never stood a chance coming between them. No one did.”
Mar’e cocked her head up to Trax. “I meant coming up against them, not coming between them.”
Trax turned to the Kuroi woman. “You’ll learn this quickly, Mar’e, as I did; as Kohl O’Hanlon has—when it comes to those two, there’s no difference.”
CHAPTER 11
Jessop woke early to bathe Jeco before her morning training. She had slept well thanks to her spar with Falco. It had been one of the first nights she hadn’t had a nightmare about Kohl. His absence in her dreams did not remove him from her waking thoughts and she found herself distracted as she readied Jeco for the day. She had thought about the night Kohl had taken her up the Blade, to watch as evening fell on Azgul.
“I would keep all your secrets, if you let me,” he whispered, leaning closer to her.
His hand found the back of her head softly, and she could feel his thumb brushing against her affectionately as he tilted her face up to him. The intensity of his golden stare nearly made her forget…everything.
Just before his lips found hers, she remembered herself. She rested a firm hand against his chest, stopping him from kissing her.
“Maybe one day you will,” she whispered.
“Jessop?” Falco’s voice pulled her back to the moment. She finished dressing Jeco, pivoting on her knee to look up at her husband.
“I called your name twice,” he explained, staring at her intently.
“I was distracted,” she explained, lifting Jeco into her arms as she stood.
While Falco was too busy to spar with her, he had agreed to watch Jeco. She walked past him, towards their own bed. Jessop intended to find Trax for a morning training.
Falco took Jeco from her and sat him down on their bed. “You’ll be in the Hollow?”
She tightened her vest. “Yes, if Trax can train; otherwise I will come join you sooner.”
“Are you alright, Jessop?”
She nodded quickly, “I’m fine.”
“Is it Kohl? I thought you slept well last night.”
She kissed him quickly. “I slept fine. It’s nothing.” She quickly kissed Jeco and turned from them, making a swift exit. Before he could ask her anything further, before he could enter her mind and see all her memories of his disloyal brother.
As she made her way down the corridor, she passed a room of young Hunters-in-training. She rarely saw the children, as they were never without their instructors. She wondered if Jeco should be joining such classes soon, or if his training was best left to her and Falco. She saw the young boys in their black linens and small vests with the Hunters’ sigil emblazoned on their chests, attempting to levitate miniature blades. They must have been five or six years of age, and only half of them had managed the task. Jeco, though half their age, was already far superior.
She carried on, taking a bullet down several floors before reaching Trax’s corridor. Jessop had found a new route to Trax’s chambers, one that did not require passing Kohl’s old room. She couldn’t bring herself to enter that space—his space. Where everything meaningful between them had transpired. She knew that no matter how powerful she was, no matter how many stood in her army, no matter how great her love for Falco, she could not forget how she had wronged Kohl O’Hanlon. Jessop was not a sympathetic woman—she felt little for others, as others had always felt little for her—but not when it came to Kohl. There was much between them still—he had loved her, and he had nearly killed her.
She knew, no matter how Falco pressed the issue, she didn’t want Kohl dead. Even if some part of her sought vengeance for his mutiny, deep down, Jessop knew he didn’t deserve to die. Death came easily for her and Falco—they had killed so many. But she knew that Kohl was not like the others who had tested her patience or questioned their rule. Kohl didn’t deserve what she had done to him.
“Jessop.”
Mar’e appeared from around the corner. Jessop froze, slowly crossing her arms over her chest, noting that Mar’e came from the direction of Trax’s room. “Mar’e.”
The two stood in silence. Jessop couldn’t help but see the face of thirteen-year-old Mar’e, her eyes so unchanged. She remembered how close they had been, but knew that even then, their closeness had been tainted by her friend’s superiority complex. Jessop knew that no matter how much power she wielded, whom she had married, or the size of her army, Mar’e Makenen would always believe herself to be superior to Jessop—for she was full-blooded Kuroi.
Mar’e readjusted her stance, placing her hands on her hips, her shoulders held tightly back. “I was hoping to see you. I wanted to apologize.”
Jessop couldn’t help but hide the surprise in her face, knowing her arched bro
w gave her away. “Oh?”
“I was wrong to treat you as I have, both in childhood and during my time in the Blade. I spoke to Falco inappropriately and I greatly underestimated you, your abilities…and your marriage.” She lowered her golden gaze for a brief moment, seeming ashamed.
Jessop lowered her arms and then re-crossed them. Mar’e had never apologized to her, not in all the years she had known the girl. Jessop had intentionally frightened her in the Hollow to demand respect, but never had she imagined evoking remorse.
“Sevos, Mar’e. I appreciate it,” she nodded to her old friend.
Mar’e offered a tight smile back, clearly made as uncomfortable as Jessop was by the sincere conversation. Aggression was simply easier for some, far easier than sensitivity. “Baruk, Jessop. I would appreciate the opportunity to start over. If we could start anew…”
Jessop cut her off. “Of course.” She didn’t need to force the other woman to carry on. Jessop was not one for second chances, but she had been truly surprised by the apology Mar’e offered. The least she could do was be gracious.
Mar’e offered her a small smile. “Were you looking for a sparring partner?”
Jessop inclined her head slowly. “Mar’e, you know you can’t spar with me.” She meant no insult, but didn’t understand why Mar’e would volunteer after the display Jessop and Falco had put on for her.
“I cannot best you, this is true, but refrain from Sentio and stick to the blade, and I promise I will at least help get your heart going,” she offered.
Jessop wanted to decline, knowing that the training she required Mar’e was not capable of participating in. But she also knew alliances were important when you had as many enemies as she did. She smiled tightly and nodded, pivoting around in the direction of the Hollow.
* * * *
“So, he loved you,” Mar’e concluded, sitting opposite Jessop. They had sparred, but not for long. Mar’e, despite her best efforts, could not keep up. During their rest they began to discuss how their lives had fared in all their years apart. Mar’e had never taken a spouse, though she had options. She had found that her position in Dezane’s life was all-consuming, and that she could not abandon him in order to start a family. Jessop found that Mar’e had grown true affection for the elder, her loyalties to him stronger than her wish to have a family. Jessop had told her of her life with Falco, of Aranthol, Jeco, and how she had come to overthrow Hydo. Which of course, had brought up Kohl.