“He believes it’s important to know all the facts so he’ll listen to what everyone has to say.” A wry twist curved his lips. “Much to the Blade Council’s annoyance.”
“They don’t like him?”
He paused to pick up a twig. Snapping pieces off it, he threw them into the fire. “There’s always going to be some who disagree with the decisions or opinions of the Lady’s Chosen. Personalities get in the way. I believe that some of the Councilors are used to a different style of leadership. The Lady’s Chosen’s predecessor was a lot older and more… conservative and rigid in his style.”
Annika frowned. “This wasn’t a good thing for your people?”
“It depends on your point of view.” He leant forward. “The last Lady’s Chosen led for almost fifty years. When the new Chosen ascended we’d reached five hundred years of conflict with the Na’Reish. The times demanded a conservative leader. But it bred a form of elitism among the Light Blades. They and the Council lost sight of what our purpose was, that we were there to protect and serve everyone.”
“They didn’t do this?”
“At first they did but as our losses grew the decision was made for the Light Blades to withdraw from the outer areas of our territory in order to protect the provinces of the Councilors and Sacred Lake.”
Her eyes widened. “So, if you didn’t live in those areas you were unprotected?”
“Essentially, yes.” Here he grimaced. “It made the Blade Council very unpopular. When the current Chosen took over, he wanted to restore the reputation of the Light Blades. It hasn’t been easy and his more liberal attitude has often been in direct conflict with the older Councilors.”
“What has he done that they disagree with?”
“The Light Blades patrol all our territory now, even though our numbers are less than half of what they used to be fifty years ago. He visits the outlying villages to meet with leaders and talks with them about their concerns. He accepts everyone into the Light Blade academy regardless of what province they come from.”
“So, he’s made himself and the ranks of the Light Blades welcoming to everyone. Surely that’s a good thing if you need to increase the number of warriors protecting your territory?”
“It’s not easy balancing the politics and there are times he’s frustrated by the Council. Attitudes take time to change, but he has faith that the Lady will guide us all.”
She bit her lip. “Do you think he’ll grant me sanctuary?”
Uneasiness curled in Kalan’s gut. He really didn’t want to take the conversation in this direction. “Your arrival will herald change,” he said slowly, carefully. “Our history books and teachings tell us the Na’Chi are a myth. Your existence will challenge a lifetime of beliefs.”
She shivered but met his gaze head-on. “You haven’t answered my question.”
He rose and took his time creating their makeshift bed for the night. As much as he wanted to answer her question honestly, there were other factors to consider. Others to protect. The conversation had to end now.
“Granting you sanctuary should be discussed between him and the Blade Council. The ultimate decision is his but it helps if the Council agrees, too.” He banked the fire then crawled under the blanket. “We’ve a long day ahead of us. We should get some sleep.”
With that, he closed his eyes. In the silence that followed he could feel her confusion, her uncertainty. There wasn’t anything he could do to rectify it, not until they reached Sacred Lake.
Several minutes later, Annika joined him under the blanket. He heard her sigh softly. It was a long while before either of them managed to sleep.
Chapter 13
“ANNIKA, we’re here. Look!”
Kalan’s soft call jerked Annika from the steady rhythm of placing one boot in front of the other. Exhaustion made her clumsy as she stumbled to a halt. It took a moment for his words to penetrate her tired mind.
Traveling from daybreak to early evening, pausing only for a meal, Kalan had expressed his desire to push on rather than make camp. Eager to see Sacred Lake, she’d agreed but had lost track of their progress somewhere between dusk and moonrise, succumbing to the exhaustion and the numbing cold of the night.
Blinking blearily, her last memory of their surroundings had been a thickly wooded forest on a hillside. Now she stood on a roadway that followed a river and wound its way across a bare plateau.
“Where are we?” She rubbed a hand over her face in an effort to wake up. The chill on the night breeze did a much better job as it fluttered the folds of her cloak, sneaking beneath it to stroke her skin. She shivered as Kalan gestured along the way. Peering past him, a soft gasp escaped her lips and adrenaline cleared the last of her tiredness away.
The moon was nearly full, heading for the jagged horizon of a mountain range. Its light shimmered off a large lake below the snow-capped peaks—but that wasn’t what caught her attention.
Sitting right on the lip of the narrow plateau, at the edge of the lake, nestled against the mountains was a huge city surrounded by a stone wall that seemed to glow in the moonlight. The road led straight to a set of massive double wooden gates. Like giant sentinels both the wall and gates stood almost five men tall, intimidating, awesome. This close they dominated the landscape.
A grin creased the weariness on Kalan’s face. “Welcome to Sacred Lake.”
Eyes wide, she barely glanced at him. “I’ve heard others talk about it but never envisaged this.”
Another shiver passed through her. Her mother had lived here; trained daily as a warrior, prayed in the temple, walked the city streets. Beyond the great gateway lay her identity and an uncertain future. Her dream.
A wave of longing hit her hard: to hear Hesia’s age-worn voice, for the small room she called her own inside her father’s chambers, for the scent of fresh herbs from her garden, for the feelings of peace and reassurance as she dried them, for her collection of bowls, bottles, and jars she used to store her remedies. She didn’t have much in the way of possessions or friends but she missed them all. Her throat tightened.
“Annika.” Kalan’s voice was a soft murmur, gentle. His hand stretched toward her.
I’m here if you need me. You’re not alone. His words from the night before.
The need to feel the warmth of his touch ate at Annika like a ravenous animal. She tried to stay strong—she didn’t need his pity—but found herself reaching for his hand. She wrapped her fingers around his then let him slowly pull her in against his chest. He slid his free arm around her. The gentle action of cradling her against him cut straight to her heart.
She shuddered. Mother of Mercy, she didn’t know what scared her more—the incredible peace she felt cradled against his chest listening to the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart beneath her ear, or the pain of realizing she no longer had the strength to stand alone.
“You make me feel safe.” Her admission came out as a hoarse whisper. Kalan’s arm tightened around her. “I’m a fool for needing your comfort, your friendship.”
“Annika, you’re one of the most courageous people I’ve met.” She leaned closer to him, craving more of the sincerity she heard in his voice. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting, with feeling the way you do.”
Don’t believe him…
She squashed the voice of reason and inhaled a ragged breath. “It’d be a whole lot simpler if I could ignore it and not get tangled up with feelings. Too many times I’ve been human enough to hope someone would care enough not to hurt me.”
Inwardly she flinched. How many times had her father ridiculed her for that?
“We’re born alone and we die alone. In between we take as much as we can using our own strength and others to get it. Show them your feelings and you give them the power to cripple you.” Kalan’s arm tightened around her as she recited her father’s words. “I was too human to meet Na’Reish standards and too Na’Reish for any human to want me near them.” Tears stung her eyes, fierce and hot. �
��How do I fight a lifetime of being taught that I’m worth nothing?”
Heat burned her cheeks as she kept her gaze downcast, bracing herself for his reaction, anticipating rejection.
Kalan grimaced at the hoarseness of her voice. It sounded like shards of glass shredding her throat. “Annika, you’re not worthless.” He heard her sharp intake of breath then she started to pull away from him. “Just listen to me a moment. Please.”
She stilled, her breathing ragged against his chest, her body so tense she felt like steel in his arms. It didn’t matter just as long as she didn’t move away. Away from him she’d erect a barrier he had no chance of breeching. He rubbed her back slowly, soothingly.
Lady help him find the right words to ease her pain. “Hesia doesn’t see you as nothing. Neither do I.”
He kept his voice soft, calm, doing everything he could to leash the raw anger he felt for her father. He wanted to kill Savyr. The abuse meted out to Annika went against his every belief that a child, human or demon, should be loved and cherished.
“I can’t take away your past, or make the things done to you hurt less but I can tell you what Hesia sees in you because I’ve witnessed it, too.” He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “We see a strong, determined woman who refuses to believe everything her father told her. Defying a parent and daring to stand against abuse designed to break you, that takes courage.
“You became a healer with your special Gift. Instead of hiding or using it to elevate your status among the Na’Reish you chose to help the human-slaves in your father’s keep. You aided them and suffered because of it, but it didn’t stop you. That shows incredible compassion. Your intelligence and bravery has saved countless lives, mine included.
“The Lady has given you these qualities and the courage to fight what you’ve been taught. How else do you explain Hesia’s friendship with you? Or my desire to want the same for us?”
Annika slowly lifted her head. While her expression remained pinched with fear and her violet eyes were still flecked with yellow, he saw a faint stirring of hope deep within her gaze.
“I want to trust you.” She swallowed hard. “But wanting to and being able to are two different things.”
“Meet me halfway. Please.”
Her chin dipped in a jerky nod. Relief and excitement made his pulse race in relief.
“Lady’s Breath, this isn’t going to be easy…” She stiffened in his arms. “What will your family or friends say?”
Unease gnawed at his innards but he pushed it aside. There was no doubt there’d be opposition. He was probably a fool for ignoring the issue, for not considering the implications but he just wanted to deal with what was happening between him and Annika.
“Let tomorrow worry about itself, Annika.” With Her help they’d get through whatever trials lay ahead.
Kalan cupped her cheek with his hand. She stared at him solemnly for several long heartbeats, her expression so vulnerable it made his heart hurt. Then, her eyelashes flickered closed and she leaned into his touch. That small show of trust made him want to shout in triumph.
“Soon we’ll be in my home, where we can bathe then sleep what’s left of the night.” He smoothed his thumb over the curve of her cheek and her bottom lip before dropping his hand. “Let that be enough for now.”
“All right.” Her reply was husky, tired.
“Thank you,” he murmured, and tugged lightly on their joined hands. “Come on, let’s finish this journey.”
They covered the remaining distance to the city in less than a quarter hour. Annika tugged up her hood to cover her face as Kalan hailed the watchmen standing on the wall. As he announced his name a commotion broke out within the watchtower. A heartbeat later a metallic winching sound came from behind the huge double gates and they cracked open.
As they entered the city, they were surrounded by a number of men and women wearing leather armor with the Lady’s sun etched into their chestplates, all quite vocal in their greetings. Kalan acknowledged each of them with a grin and an arm clasp.
Even without the identifying Light Blade symbol on their armor, Annika sensed Her Gift within each of them, some more strongly than others.
She moved back as a barrel-chested man, much older than the others, pushed his way toward them. He brandished a lantern in one hand, while the other rested on the hilt of the sword at his waist. His face was as weathered and brown as a nut, a striking contrast to his silver grey hair. His gaze swept over her then Kalan, bushy eyebrows rising swiftly.
“Commander?”
“Yevni!” Kalan’s grin widened. “It’s good to see you!”
The man shoved the lantern into the hands of a younger warrior then embraced Kalan, laughing and slapping his back hard. She peered around at the circle of grinning faces and wondered at the friendship the two men shared. Neither looked enough alike to be blood-related; perhaps the man was an instructor.
The old warrior held him at arm’s length and looked him over. “The Blade Council made an announcement about the Na’Reish attack on Durrat over a sennight ago. We thought you dead!”
“I would have been if it hadn’t been for Annika.” Kalan turned and motioned her closer. “She helped me escape the Na’Reish fortress.”
“Then you are most welcome within our walls.” The warmth in the warrior’s voice left her feeling uneasy. Ducking her head, she nodded in thanks, hoping he wouldn’t question the hood. “How is it you helped him escape?”
Kalan broke in before she could answer. “The story is long and complicated but rest assured, Yevni, you’ll hear it. Right now we’re both tired.”
The tall warrior grunted. “What are your orders?”
“Send a messenger to Councilor Benth’s quarters. Let him know I’ve returned. I’ll meet tomorrow with the Council.”
Yevni nodded to one of the warriors. She raced off down a wide cobblestoned street, her bootsteps echoing loudly off the buildings on either side.
“Oskan, accompany Kalan and his friend to his apartment.” Yevni grasped his forearm tightly. “Your return will bring back hope among our ranks, Commander.”
“Thank you.” He motioned her to follow the young man holding the lantern.
Annika looked left and right, curious about the buildings around her. Most were two-story structures made of stone with double doors spaced at intervals. They reminded her of the storage rooms in the fortress, only they were much bigger. No light came from the few that possessed windows: they were dark and quiet.
She longed to ask Kalan questions about the city as they walked its streets but was reluctant to reveal her ignorance with a stranger listening in. The stone buildings changed to smaller wooden ones. These were poorly constructed and none were taller than a single story. Very few were made entirely of the same material and bits seemed stuck or added on over time. The ramshackle houses were similar to the human-slaves’ quarters within the fortress.
As they moved deeper into this area, a rank odor intensified with every step. Her nose wrinkled in recognition: rotting garbage and human filth.
Several times they passed what she thought were three or four individual houses but it looked as if they’d been joined together so that they became one long row of connected buildings. Some had small overhanging rooves and benches or chairs had been placed on the ground beneath them. A few had lines of washing strung up.
She moved closer to Kalan. “People live here?”
“The workers in the city,” he replied softly. “It’s known as Coppertown. They’re paid copper chits when they hire on as labor. Most are good, decent people but, unfortunately, it’s also where the vagabonds like to live. This area by far is the largest within the city and easiest to escape notice or get lost in.”
Annika remembered the first time Hesia had mentioned the human custom of money. The idea of swapping colored pieces of metal for supplies had seemed absurd, especially when the Na’Reish levied tithes within their Clans and took what they needed from th
e lower-caste craftsmen. For those wanting to curry favor, owning human-slaves with particular skills was a way of settling a debt or gaining an advantage.
Coppertown gave way to more stone buildings, only these ones had well-constructed awnings, most made of shingles or tiles. Small pieces of bright-colored cloth cut in the shape of triangles hung on lines tied around the support poles. Whatever they signified they’d certainly be attractive and eye-catching on a breezy day. Large, thick shutters covered windows and empty stalls stood pushed against the walls.
“This is Bartertown, where all the guilds sell their crafters’ wares.” Kalan pointed to one of the buildings. “See the signs above the doors? This one sells carpentry tools.”
Annika peered at the swirling designs carved into the lintel. She’d mistaken the etchings as patterns. Some had small painted pictures accompanying them. The next one had a person sitting in front of a loom, perhaps a weaver’s or clothmaker’s stall.
“How many live within the walls?” she whispered.
“Almost ten thousand,” he replied. “There are several districts within the city. Coppertown, Northgate, and Lakeview are all housing areas. The Business District includes places like Waterside Dock, where the fishing boats come in from the lake, the factories we passed behind us are in Eastgate, and Bartertown belongs to the guilds and their crafters sell their wares from their holds. Then we have places like the Salesyards and the People’s Market. The traders and farmers from outside the city come in at the beginning of each week, on market day, to sell their animals and produce.
“The Entertainment District backs onto Guild Square. That’s where many come to find work. We’re headed for the Lady’s compound. We have about a thousand Light Blades living there.”
“You only have a thousand warriors?”
“On duty, yes. Another five thousand live in the city or out on farms in the countryside. The Barracks work on a three-monthly rotation. If we had to, we could call them all in but to have them living here full-time isn’t fair to their families and it puts a strain on the city’s resources.”
Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1) Page 15