Mel was shocked at his younger brother, as was Eve. However, she took the out and followed Silas. At the buffet table she was on the verge of thanking him, but stopped short as she saw the disgust on his face as he inspected the food. Without preamble, he grabbed some meat and started gnawing at it.
Silas worked his way down the table, eating thusly and grabbing more of the various meats. Eve shook her head, picked up a plate, and tried her best to ignore him. After selecting her food, she looked around for Silas. It took her a moment to find him hidden in the shadow of a large stone column. She decided then and there to leave him alone. Besides, she was grateful to not have someone hovering over her.
Eve ended up wandering around with her plate of food for quite a while before finding herself a secluded corner. She ate absentmindedly, not paying attention to anything. When done eating, she set her plate down and stared off into the crowd. Without realizing it she began to drift off. Before she could completely fall asleep, a shadow fell over her; and a deep smooth voice spoke to her filling her head with thoughts of the depthless sea.
“Would you care to dance?”
Without realizing what she was doing, she grabbed the knife she had hidden in the broad ribbon belt she wore. It was a small thin blade, but it glimmered in the lantern light and looked deadly sharp.
“All right, all right, you don’t have to dance,” said the voice, and the shadow over her backed away.
Eve focused on the person standing in front of her. It took her a moment, though when he came into focus, Eve saw he was a roguishly handsome boy. She guessed he would be about her age, maybe a little older. The dark stubble on his tan face was broken on the left side by a scar that went from his cheek back to the jawline below his ear. His gray eyes shone in the low light and his black hair was slightly unkempt.
Sheepishly, Eve realized she had her dagger pointed at him and quickly sheathed it. A blush colored her face and she nervously whispered an apology. The young man smiled, showing nearly perfect teeth.
“No harm, and my fault entirely.”
Eve quickly scanned her surroundings and realized quite a few people had started to dance. David and Deborah were waltzing. An irksome feeling twinged within her. The young man turned, following her lingering gaze.
“You know,” he said offhandedly, “every time I see her I find it hard to believe she took on a demon.”
The boy turned back to Eve, who was now staring at him with a puzzled look on her face. He shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands.
“Well, at least that’s what’s going around. What, you didn’t hear?”
“No, I heard.” Eve said wearily. “Things seem to always fall into place for her. She tends to get what she wants.”
Now it was the boy’s turn to look puzzled. Eve sighed, realizing how bitter she had sounded.
“Sorry, she’s my older sister.”
“What?! Really!?”
Eve blushed a little more and prepared herself for the inevitable response and comparison between her and her more gorgeous sister.
“You’re pulling my leg.” He looked closely at both girls for a moment, then moved to stand beside her so they both were looking out at the dance floor. Eve started getting upset at the boy. Before he could speak again she spoke up, exasperated.
“She takes more after our mother, while I take after our father, the man she’s dancing with.”
“The Truth Blade; really? I’d heard rumors. Knowing that I guess she could stand up to a demon. I mean, it has to be in the blood then. I could easily see you taking on a demon, though.”
“What?!”
When Eve looked over to him, the boy was wearing a crooked smile and was looking over at her through the corner of his eyes.
“Well you have to know your sister has the blood of a Truth Blade in her before you can even conceive of such a power to her. You, however. . .” the young man paused, and his grin grew when he saw the simmering anger appearing in her eyes. “Well I guess the best way to put it would be to say you’re a storm.”
The boy bobbed his head. “Yep, that would sum it up nicely. A storm with its fierce beauty and deadly power.”
Eve felt a little weak and lightheaded. The young man moved to face her once more. He bowed slightly and offered his hand.
“My lady, allow me to introduce myself. I am Rothos. Would you do me the honor of a dance?”
Eve took his hand and, without joining the other couples waltzing about the main floor, they began to dance.
Chapter 42
The party was over and life was trying to find a new rhythm. For most of the Koens it was a hard task as they knew eventually, sooner rather than later, they would have to leave the newly acquired safety of the castle.
David was securing supplies and readying travel arrangements. He employed most of the children in this task at various times between their studies with Zilda and their practices with Fleet of Foot. Most of the children dove into their tasks, eager to be doing something. Eve, however, was not satisfied to do likewise. She often slipped off wanting to be alone. . . no, not alone, just not with her family. It was at one of these times she came across Rothos again.
The memory of the young man had started to take on a dream like quality. She couldn’t quite remember the substance of their conversation after their dance, though the thrill of walking with him in the candlelit garden was a heady memory. He had to leave, but he did so reluctantly. He spoke of a strict master and needing to report back.
Eve was lost in those thoughts when she bumped into Rothos in the castle corridors. A blurred, quick exchange occurred. Eve ended up taking hold of his arms, trying to delay him a moment longer. He smiled at her, though his eyes kept darting about.
“Please,” he said softly yet urgently, some huskiness in his voice. “I can’t tarry. My master is rather irate today, and I must complete my tasks quickly.”
Then he leaned in close to whisper, “I’ll try to break away, at night; the gardens.”
Then he was off and she was left breathless by the closeness of him, by the salty sweet smell of him. The smell lingered in her mind, in her nose. She wanted to take a deeper whiff of it, to hold onto more of it. She snuck out to the gardens that very night, yet it was in vain, for he did not come. The same happened the next night and the next. She was sorrow filled. The next day the sorrow grew into anger and moodiness. She became determined to wash him from her mind. However, his smell and the closeness haunted the edges of her most resolute thoughts. One more night; no more.
She slipped out once more. With the fire of anger, of perceived scorn, she sought out Rothos in the gardens once more. He was there, waiting. Something was wrong, though. He did not seem as he had during the party or even in the castle corridor. He seemed tense, ready to bolt, a rabbit fearing the hounds were near.
When they made eye contact, their attitudes visibly changed. They both became calmer. He seemed as if he were seeing some spark of salvation. She was incapable of holding onto anger in his presence. When he moved closer she saw the darkening bruise on his left eye, and her heart leapt into her throat.
She rushed to close the distance between them and gently reached out to touch the bruise. He caught her hand and held it tightly as a drowning man would a passing piece of driftwood. Then his grip became softer and his look held a little roguishness once again. He put her hand to his face just below the bruise and upon his scar.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered at the same time she asked, “What happened?”
He smiled at her. “It’s nothing. I wasn’t fast enough in my job or dodging.”
“Who?” she began but didn’t finish, lost in the sensation of his suddenly kissing her wrist.
“I have to leave, tomorrow or the next day. My master is done here and is returning with a report to his kin.”
“What is going on? Did he do this?” She broke his grip and tenderly touched his eye.
“He is not very forgiving. . .”
“Can I help?” she interrupted. “I can. . .”
“No,” he said flatly. “I cannot break free yet. I have no safe harbor.”
“My family. . .” she started but then stopped, remembering that she was out here without her father’s consent. Somehow, she thought, her revealing her association with Rothos would not go over as well as had Deborah’s liaison with Hogan. A stab of bitterness pierced her thoughts, and she dropped her hand. She turned away from Rothos.
“We’ll be leaving soon, too,” she said forlornly. “I’m not sure when. . .”
Rothos gently turned her around and pulled her close to him. He used a hand to lift up her chin so she’d make eye contact with him.
“Look, I’m going to free myself when it is most opportune. When I do. . . maybe then. . .”
The kiss was not a deep one. It was quick like lightning and just as full of electricity. However, it was also gentle as a butterfly landing on her skin. It was over too soon and she felt weak all over. Her ears rang, and her vision was blurred. When she finally regained her composure, Rothos was gone. Only the sensation of the momentary kiss and his scent remained.
*
A month had now passed since the wedding. The castle was as secure as it could be. Yero had cleared the guard out as best he could. He was sure there were elements still loyal to Avrant, though not in the guard. Likewise, Evangeline was fairly certain of the staff. Ven, which had been almost totally destroyed in the fire and the conflict, was now being rebuilt nearer to the castle, just on the other side of Council Rock. Every able-bodied person was pitching in. Already the buildings on the main thoroughfare were framed, and several outlying residences were complete. With harvest only two months out, half a dozen store houses were also complete.
David stood upon the southwest wall and watched construction crews scrambling over the main street frames. Though still distant, the town was now moved close enough that he could hear the faint sound of hammering. The Beagle stood next to him, paws upon the ramparts. He too watched the construction.
“Your daughter brings a new energy to the realm,” the angel commented. “There are many in Ven who have turned from their sinful ways.”
“I hope it lasts, for both Deborah’s and Nic’s sake,” David replied.
Sensing the sorrow in David’s voice, the Beagle moved away from the wall and looked up at the man.
“Yero has experience in what is happening to Nic. You made the right choice to let him stay here.”
David looked down at the Beagle. “I know. I feel it, I see it. It is still hard to let go of him. It is hard to trust them out in this chaotic mess. I will abide by His will, though it still hurts. They are safe here with a great deal of people I’ve come to trust. To be honest, though, part of me wants to make this castle our stronghold.”
“You know we must head for Dauntalus. We must solidify a place there in order to legitimize the transition in mortal eyes. Besides, Rebekah is there with very little protection. I know the reason for your hardships and sorrow. No matter what path you walk to fulfill His will, you leave something behind.”
David sat down with his back to the wall and reached over to scratch at the Beagle’s head, more to comfort himself than to show affection for the angel.
“The harder road is ahead,” David finally said. “Though the children are more ready to travel in this world, even though they have us and Fleet of Foot and Zilda helping out, I can’t shake the feeling something else is going to happen.”
“It most definitely will. We have to remain watchful for it and act then.”
Anything further that they may have said was interrupted as Nic came running up. He was wearing a guard uniform, the jacket unbuttoned in deference to the rising heat of the day. The boy looked harassed and dirty, and was sporting some bruises in addition to his hand being cut. David jumped up, his posture radiating alarm. Nic raised his hands and tried to reassure his father.
“Everything is fine, it’s just one of the horses. We are having a problem with one of the war steeds. I came to find you in hopes you might be able to help.”
David let a grin rise upon his lips. “How you don’t have your ancestors’ skills with horses I’ll never fathom,” he said with humor.
Nic rolled his eyes and responded with wry sarcasm. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Look, I can ride them and care for them as well as the others. This one, though, is a monster. I would have gotten Mel’s help, since he seems to be able to charm them into doing most anything. However, he is out on patrol of the Northway in preparation of your journey.”
“Okay, I yield,” David said laughing. “I’ll come see how I can help.”
Esther had been absentmindedly wandering around the castle grounds all day. She had a tune stuck in her head that was distracting her from focusing on anything else. As she shambled by the stables, she became suddenly focused on the sounds of an animal in pain. Sorrow filled her heart as a wild scream sounded.
The young girl ran toward the sound, feeling a pull in her heart which directed her. She came out from the stables and saw on the far side, past the training grounds, a commotion occurring in the grazing field. There were a dozen people within the fence area. Stable hands, soldiers, and squires were all about. Three of them were lying on the ground, being tended to by several others. Two of them were dragging an obviously unconscious man away from a group of stable hands and soldiers in the center of the field. There, at the heart of the pasture, two stable hands and three guards looked wearily towards what appeared to be a mad horse. Each of the workers had ropes and were conversing with the guards. The horse was a massive gray warhorse that kept pounding the ground, snorting, and eyeing the group of five people. Every now and then the horse would scream and show his teeth.
Esther felt pain, sorrow, longing, and fear roll in waves off the magnificent horse. Her heart absorbed the feelings and she understood what this animal needed. Those dealing with the horse were either arguing about, recovering from, or complaining about the steed. They didn’t see Esther entering the grazing area. They didn’t hear the whispering melody coming from her. At first, the steed didn’t notice her, either. When he did finally sense her, the horse began to shift his focus to her. As the girl came closer and closer the stallion reared up, letting out a mighty scream. Deep down dread lanced out and pierced Esther like a physical blow. Tears sprang to her eyes.
The new cry brought the attention of all. Within seconds they all had registered Esther’s presence and realized she was headed for the now stamping, rearing, bucking beast. The stable hands acted faster than the soldiers and began to run towards the girl. The guards, realizing who Esther was, started to shout desperately. The young girl turned around, then sang a single word bold and clear, ringing with the melody that had been haunting her all morning.
“Stop.” As the word rolled lyrically out, the effect was like that of a pebble hitting the water. All who heard it froze. The steed behind her calmed markedly, though it still moved agitatedly and kept an eye locked on Esther. For her part, Esther turned her attention back to the horse, and all the rest dropped from her mind. She began to sing. The song she sang weaved its way into the horse’s core. Where there was fear, the song called forth understanding. Sorrow was met with hope; acceptance combatted longing. Finally, love unerring and undying took on the pain. The song enfolded all the ills and transformed them, healing them.
When David showed up, every soul was focused on Esther and the warhorse. She was reaching up to embrace the stallion’s neck. Nic looked over the scene and then at his father.
“That’s the horse, but. . .”
“What’s going on?” David asked the Beagle.
The angel looked up at him. “She sings a soul song. She is healing the animal’s woes by letting the Holy Spirit work through her voice.”
David and Nic both looked down at the Beagle as it continued. “She wields the glory of God with her song. Go to her, David. She will bond the horse to you to complete the animal’s hea
ling.”
David moved past the stunned and awed adults and came to a stop behind his daughter. By this time the horse had laid its head on Esther’s shoulder. Both his daughter and the horse had closed their eyes. David stood listening to the now quiet song. He became mesmerized by the sound and found his eyes closing too. Within the music David felt calm. Truth resonated within him; worry and concern over the future went away; regret about the past faded.
David didn’t feel his daughter take his hand, though he did feel her place it upon the head of the warhorse. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the dark orbs of the stallion. In these he saw a noble creature, hurt by loss and loyal to its core.
“His name is Gallant,” whispered Esther. “You and he will now take care of each other, providing strength and endurance to one another.”
David broke eye contact with Gallant after patting him on the nose. He looked down at his daughter, awe apparent in his eyes and voice.
“Thank you,” he said, unable to think of more to stay. Gallant nudged her softly, expressing the same.
*
The sun set and rose again. The day to leave had finally arrived. The entire castle was awake before dawn, seeing to the final preparations. The Koens were in the courtyard loading the cart and eating a quick breakfast, except for Mary, who had climbed into the packed part of the cart and fallen back to sleep.
The many hands made light the work, and just as the sun was brightening the horizon those that were leaving said their last farewells to those who would stay. Hogan, Yero, Deborah, and Nic stood at the north entrance, watching the departing Koens, Fleet of Foot, Zilda, and the Beagle. The mood of both groups was tainted with fears and concerns which would not die away. The only two not seemingly affected were Silas and Eve.
Silas chose to walk the left flank and stayed to the edge of the road. His eyes were continuously scanning the fields of very mature grains, as if expecting the seeds to burst forth and attack. If any had bothered to look closely they would have seen an eagerness in his vigilance and that his hand was constantly itching at the sword hanging at his side.
The New Guard (Crossroads Book 1) Page 32