by Jim Galford
The remaining soldiers ran to block the exit, and Estin saw Feanne growl and spread her arms, ready to charge at them. Things were getting messy.
“I cannot let you leave with my property,” the veiled female said, standing and gracefully walking down the carpet toward him, though she stayed out of reach of his weapon. “Release Phaesys. Now.”
“Not happening,” Estin snapped, lifting the sword until he could feel Phaesys’s heartbeat through the blade. “If you want him to live, you will stop right there.”
The female’s eyes narrowed, but she did stop. “By law, my servants are my property. If you kill him, you will be hunted by the council’s soldiers for the rest of your days for assaulting my estate. Do not do this, Estin. We need to talk, not kill each other.”
Estin glanced over his shoulder and saw Feanne had moved to center herself against the soldiers. She was going to try to clear him a path if it came down to combat. Five armed men against Feanne, and Estin could practically feel their fear.
“Bring Alafa in here,” Estin said. “We’re leaving with her and Phaesys. If you don’t attack us again, we’ll let him go…maybe even in one piece.”
The female sighed and turned her gaze on Phaesys. From the depths of her robe, she produced a curved dagger. She threw it to Phaesys, who caught it midair, despite Estin tightening his grip, drawing blood. “Paladin, prepare to kill yourself.”
To Estin’s surprise, Phaesys pulled aside his chain shirt and put the knife to his chest, rather than attempting to use it against Estin.
“What the hells is this?” Estin demanded, shoving Phaesys away. “It’s no fun killing a traitor if he does the job for us.”
Stumbling and then taking a knee by the female, Phaesys kept the knife at his chest.
“I already told you,” the female said, touching Phaesys’s head gently. In doing so, Estin realized she wore a silver ring similar to the one Marr wore. “He is my property. He is also the head of my armies, and thus, my paladin. If I ask for his life, it is his duty to give it. He is no more a traitor these days than you are, Estin. Please, put the weapon down.”
Estin looked to Feanne, who gave him a curt nod. Reluctantly, he dropped the sword onto the carpet between himself and the female wildling. Raising his hands, he waited for the soldiers to tackle him and tie him up again.
“Much better,” the female said, poking the sword with her toe. Estin had not thought on it initially, but unlike Phaesys and most of the wildlings he had met from the deserts, the female wore no sandals. Only Marr and this female were barefoot like Estin and Feanne. “Are you certain you want to kill Phaesys?”
“Very,” Estin barked back at her.
Still, Phaesys did not look up.
The female reached up and pulled back her hood several inches, though it continued to cover her ears. The action revealed powdered fur that could have been as light as Phaesys’s or as dark as Feanne’s. Decorative dyed black lines ran from her eyes back to her ears, giving her an almost tiger-like appearance. She kept her veil on as she knelt in front of Phaesys and lifted his muzzle with her finger. With her other hand, she took the knife from his hand and hid it in her robes.
“I will give you a fair fight, old man,” she told Estin, looking at Phaesys. “He did betray you. I will not deny you that. When you have surrendered, I wish to have a more in-depth conversation about why you are here.”
“I’m not surrendering until one of us is dead,” Estin answered, and the female’s eyes told him she was grinning under the veil. Something about her seemed familiar, but that could wait. He wanted blood.
“Then let me set the terms,” the female said as she stood again. Sliding her paw under the blade of the sword, she flicked it straight up into the air and caught it by the hilt. She spun it expertly before driving it point-first into the sand halfway between Estin and Phaesys. “Phaesys will not take the sword. He will fight only if attacked. If you kill him, you will leave the desert lands forever. If you surrender, you and I will have a long talk.”
“Agreed,” Estin said, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of her offer. “What about Alafa?”
The female nodded and motioned to one of the soldiers near the entrance to the tent. The man ran outside and came back a moment later with five more people. Leading the group was Alafa, grinning as she looked around at the people in the tent. Behind her, four fox wildlings—one desert fox, who Estin realized was Marr, and three red foxes—came into the tent and waited near Feanne and the other soldiers. Estin quickly dismissed the group as no concern and returned his attention to Phaesys. A nagging voice told him to pay more attention, but he only had eyes for Phaesys. He knew letting his attention or resolve waver could cost him both his life and his opportunity.
“May I ask what he did that warrants all of this?” the female asked once the others were quiet. “A simple betrayal is usually grounds for a solid punch, not a public killing. I would offer to whip him, though I suspect that will not be good enough for you. You seem to have made up your mind before any argument could be offered.”
Estin growled at Phaesys, then slowly calmed himself before replying. “He used my daughter. Tricked her into thinking he loved her and then betrayed my whole family to our enemies. We barely survived.”
The female nodded sagely, backing away to leave nothing but the sword between Estin and Phaesys. “Normally I would ask your daughter to be the one to do this, but you have placed yourself in harm’s way, so I give you this chance. May I ask one more thing before you kill him?” She had reached the throne and sat slowly on it, crossing her legs and letting her bare paw bounce as though she were amused by the whole situation. Given the regal demeanor otherwise, the bare paws continued to nag at Estin as out of place. “A simple request.”
“Ask it and let’s be done with this.”
The female clapped her hands, and Estin heard the tent flap open and close behind him with several people entering. “I simply wished his kin to see this and make their own judgments.”
Estin listened behind him, hearing soft whispers. He ignored them, his anger at Phaesys consuming him. He had to kill Phaesys if it was the last thing he did. He had torn Estin’s family apart. Every bit of pain that his kits suffered alone on the far side of the world from their parents was Phaesys’s fault. He meant to make Phaesys suffer for every second that Estin had been without his children.
“You may fight when you are ready,” the female announced, sitting back on the throne to watch. The bouncing of her foot stopped abruptly, and in what little Estin could see of her, he could make out all the signs of one who was too tense to breathe.
Estin wasted no time. He dove for the sword as Phaesys stood, pulled it from the ground, and brought it up to Phaesys’s chest with enough tension in his arm to drive it through Phaesys’s armor. Despite the terms of the fight, Phaesys closed his eyes and spread his arms, pressing himself against the blade.
Estin tensed to strike, trying to find the motivation to kill a foe who was not even fighting back. As he tried to make himself push the sword forward, a pair of shrieks near the entrance to the tent startled him, almost making him drive the weapon into Phaesys out of shock. A second later, two small fox kits ran to Phaesys and latched on to his legs, staring up at Estin with large tear-filled eyes.
“What is this all about?” Estin asked, his determination fading. The kits were clearly desert foxes, but one had an odd red tint to his fur, and the other’s huge blue eyes seemed wrong for Phaesys’s breed. “You expect me to spare him because he fathered children?”
“No,” the female answered, more harshly than she had spoken to that point. She hopped to her feet and marched over to stand beside Phaesys and the two kits. “I expect you to do what is right. Will you kill a good father who made mistakes in the past while his children watch? I believe I know you, Estin. Would you do this to more children as it was done to you? Would you put these two through what you endured? Phaesys could easily overpower you at this range. H
e has made his choice. What is yours?”
Estin clenched his jaw and tried not to look at the kits. No matter what he did, their faces were burned into his sight. He could not make himself push the sword into Phaesys’s chest.
Through it all, Phaesys kept his eyes closed and arms spread, accepting what might come.
“Dammit!” Estin shouted, throwing the sword away. The kits flinched, remaining tightly clamped onto their father’s legs “Who are you?”
The female relaxed slowly, putting a hand on Phaesys’s shoulder. At her touch, he dropped to his knees again, this time with the two kits standing over him, still watching Estin nervously. The kits appeared to be trying to look like they would fight Estin off if he attacked their father again, though the attempt came out as pitiable, rather than frightening.
“I am the master of the council,” the female replied, walking up to Estin and forcing him back a step. When he did not back up a second time, she pushed him. “I am one who was left behind. I am the one who decides your fate in these lands. Given that you are so blinded by your own anger that you do not see what is right in front of you, Feanne, please do introductions…”
Behind him, Estin realized he heard muffled crying. In fear that Feanne had been hurt, he spun and found her hugging three of the wildlings who had escorted Alafa into the tent. Almost immediately, he realized who he was looking at, while Marr stood apart from the others, looking uncomfortable.
“Alyana,” Estin whispered. The young female fox looked over her mother’s shoulder at him. She was older—an adult, like the others, but the mischievous gleam in her eyes matched her mother’s. The multiple faint white stripes on her tail left no doubt that she was his child.
“Theldis,” he said, looking to the tall thin male whose orange-tinted eyes were a defining trait. Unlike his siblings, Theldis’s tail was long—not so long as Estin’s, but unusually so for a fox. He smiled crookedly while trying to pull himself out of his mother’s grip.
Turning his attention to the last of the three, the third smiled sadly as he nervously avoided Estin’s gaze. “Rinam.”
Estin’s attention shifted to Marr, who was trying to disappear into the shadows of the tent. When he looked at her, she very nearly dove behind one of the elven soldiers. “You’re not ours, but that ring…”
“She’s with me,” Rinam piped up, getting a surprised look from Feanne. “I…I really wanted to introduce her under better circumstances. She liked grandmother’s ring…”
Marr nodded nervously, her large ears drooping. To Estin and apparently Marr’s surprise, Feanne slipped herself free of the other three, grabbed Marr, and pulled her into a hug of her own. Marr looked ready to run at first, but she finally relaxed into Feanne’s arms.
Turning in place, Estin stared at the veiled female. Her eyes spoke of a grin, though he could not see it. He looked down at her hand, where the silver ring shined. She made no attempt to hide it. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he could make out Asrahn and Lihuan’s marks in the precious metal.
“Oria,” he whispered, grabbing her in a tight hug. She began crying almost immediately, tearing off her veil and burying her face against his shoulder. “How long have we been gone? How did you survive? How…any of this?”
Oria laughed between sobs, wiping at her face and leaving a smear of the black dye across her cheek. The simple motion rubbed off much of the powder in her fur, exposing the bright red beneath. “Sirella helped me a lot. She made up some story about me being the child of a councilmember. I didn’t have any say until the magic failed…which cost the enchanters, healers, and elementalists their places on the council, bringing me into the ruling three. By the time anyone knew better, I was in charge of almost every aspect of rebuilding Corraith. It’s been a rough few years. About five, to be exact. Thank you for sending the letters to let me know you survived Corraith at the very least. They arrived seven months ago with a group of gypsies, though they charged me a fortune to deliver them.”
Estin groaned at the idea of it having been so long when only a few of those years had passed for him. As he clung to Oria, his attention went to Phaesys, still kneeling with the two kits at his sides, both of whom were watching Estin with a mix of curiosity and horror. As soon as Estin looked at Phaesys, he dropped his eyes back to the ground.
“Please tell me that you didn’t—”
Oria punched him in the stomach to stop him from finishing the thought. “Phaesys has redeemed himself,” Oria told him, shoving him away as she grinned. Walking over and putting her arms around the kits, she added, “Dad, I want you to meet your grandchildren. The female is Elia, and the male…he’s Atall. I thought it fitting.”
Estin’s heart ached as he looked at the two kits. Slowly, he knelt and held his arms out. The two foxes cautiously inched forward, looking to Oria for assurance. When she nodded at them, they approached more readily, studying Estin as they went. Just before they reached where he could have grabbed them, they looked at Phaesys, who smiled slightly and bowed his head farther. They ran to Estin and began poking at him and looking over his scars with wide-eyed wonder.
Through it all, Phaesys did not budge from where he knelt.
While Estin and the kits met—which largely involved the kits running around him and pulling his tail—Feanne moved from one of their children to another, talking quietly and frequently hugging. She wiped at tears the whole time, looking as though she could not really convince herself that any of what she was seeing was actually happening.
After a little while, Feanne came over and plucked Elia off Estin’s tail—which she had taken to hugging and demanding he drag her around by—and asked if Estin would mind switching places.
Estin hugged her and went to join his own children. When he did, he saw Marr try to back away again, but he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back to stay with the group.
“I…I probably shouldn’t be here right now,” she said, wriggling her arm in an effort to slip away. “I’ll let you catch up…”
Dragging Marr with him, Estin went to a water bowl he had seen near the edge of the room, likely meant for them to be able to freshen up. He took up a towel in his free hand and dipped it into the water before turning back to Marr. Gently, he used the wet cloth to wipe away the dried blood on her muzzle.
“You’re part of the family, whether you like it or not,” he said, smiling as he cleaned her wound. “No broken bones here, just a bad cut and swelling. You’ll be fine in a few days.”
Bringing her hand up to clasp his, she replied, “Thank you. I just…I want you to know that if I’m not good enough for your son…”
Estin laughed and tilted her head to examine the deep gash near her whiskers that had been the source of all the dried blood. It might scar, but it would be subtle, if it did. Dozens of smaller scars covered much of her skin, as though she had been battered more times than could be counted. He had marks of his own like that from surviving in the streets. “You’re a penniless street urchin, right?”
“Yeah. I only have what Phaesys gave me to start my life on my own.”
“You already said you knew that’s where I came from too.”
Marr smirked and twitched her nose when Estin prodded at the wound. “I’m guessing that’s not what you want for your children. I’d understand completely. In Corraith, he could be with a lady of renown, or even be claimed by a family related to the council, or…”
“I want him happy, not rich,” Estin said, finishing his work. “If you’re good enough for him to be happy, you won’t hear an objection from me. Feanne might pick a fight, but that would only be if she thinks you need to bully Rinam more and don’t know how. Don’t tell her I said that or she’ll come after me next.”
Marr giggled and raised herself up on her tiptoes to lick Estin’s cheek before hurrying back to where Rinam sat, waiting.
Estin followed, nervously taking a seat near his children, who were watching, studying his every action. They barely knew hi
m and were likely trying to match up their vague memories with the person now before them.
Over the next hour, they covered very few of the questions they all seemed to have, with everyone simply happy to see one another again. Most conversations went to events in the children’s lives that Estin had missed.
Once everyone had stopped wiping away tears and failed to remember the questions they had wanted to ask for years, Estin found himself pulled away from the group by Oria and Phaesys. Oria led him outside, with Phaesys following them, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes on the ground as they walked. For all the joy Estin felt each time he looked over at Oria in her finery, he felt uncomfortable with Phaesys following them, though he was reluctant to speak up.
“You have questions,” Oria asked, once they were well away from the tent and past several of the wagons that had brought in the tent and all of her soldiers.
“Of course I do,” Estin said, glancing back nervously at Phaesys one more time. He never seemed to look up. “To start…master of the council?”
Oria grinned, revealing polished teeth. “Sirella did more than help me get the seat. She also manipulated enough of the other councilmembers into bad deals that I wound up with my seat secure, once I held all three of the large wells for the region. With the accompanying wealth, I bought up nearly all of our remote lands near the river. I control all trade into Corraith. Sadly, Sirella got tired of the game once she felt I had ‘won’ and went off on her own again. I haven’t seen her in over a year.”
Estin forced himself not to check over his shoulder. The faint jingling of Phaesys’s armor told him he was still following. “Can we talk here?”