Flight of the Raven

by Morgan L. Busse

  “How is the empire going to cross into our lands with the eastern wall in place? I know small forces here and there have climbed the wall and fought along the border. But no large force can enter without the wall coming down.”

  Damien tapped a finger on the table next to the map. “I’m not sure. But if I were Lord Ivulf and working with the empire, then I would find a breach in the wall and use my power to crack it open. It took both of our houses to create the wall, but all he needs is a small opening that he can widen by himself with his own power.”

  “And let Commander Orion and his forces in.” Admiral Gerault let out a whistle. “What made House Friere and House Ravenwood turn from the rest of us?”

  Damien lowered his head and flexed his fingers across the table. “Hatred and greed. Two of the most dividing forces amongst humankind.”

  “I see. And there is no persuading them otherwise?”

  “That was the purpose of the assembly. Unfortunately, I failed.”

  “You did not fail, my lord.” Taegis came to stand beside him. “Every man and woman must make their own decisions and live with the consequences. House Friere and Ravenwood made theirs. You did not make it for them.”

  Damien nodded. “You’re right. All we can do now is work with what we have and pray to the Light.”

  The men fell silent, with the only sounds coming from the adjoining hall where the naval soldiers of House Maris were gathering.

  Damien stared down at the map, his heart heavy. What made Lord Ivulf and Lady Ragna think the Dominia Empire could be trusted? Did they really think Commander Orion would let two of the Great Houses remain? Even one Great House would mean a potential future uprising. Commander Orion would be a fool to let anyone survive who could undermine his rule. Why couldn’t they see that?

  The door opened on the other side of the meeting hall. A man dressed in a uniform similar to Admiral Gerault’s looked in. “Admiral, the men are ready.”

  Admiral Gerault looked over his shoulder. “Thank you, Captain Mercer.”

  Captain Mercer bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Admiral Gerault straightened. “Thank you for the information you provided, Lord Damien. I will be sure to set up a patrol of our shores and have our men ready. In the meantime, the men would like to see their grand lord, and then afterward we can continue our conversation and discuss strategies about the upcoming war.”

  “Very good, Admiral.”

  Admiral Gerault bowed, then headed for the door, where muffled conversation flowed from the room beyond. Damien’s throat tightened as he followed the admiral. Why did it have to come to this? Why did there have to be a war? If only the Great Houses had united . . .

  He stepped out of the meeting hall to thousands of eyes set upon him. Voices lowered, then vanished. Damien looked upon the men present: each one was a brother, a son, a father. His heart twisted, tightening his throat even further. If only there was a way he could go in their place.

  Instead, he would be sending them to war, and some would not come home.

  What kind of man did that make him?

  Damien wished Admiral Gerault and his captains farewell before boarding the Ros Marinus three days later. The air was clear and bitterly cold, without a cloud in the sky. Slabs of ice floated along the dark blue waters. If it were anyone other than Captain Stout, then he would be hesitant to travel back to Nor Esen by sea. But the captain was an excellent seaman and the Ros Marinus a fast and nimble ship, able to navigate icy waters in winter.

  Despite the cold, they made good time and arrived in port two days later, just as the sun was setting. Damien stood at the prow and stared up at Northwind Castle, above the city of Nor Esen. Lights twinkled along the windows, creating a warm and inviting picture. Home.

  He breathed out the word, his breath a wisp in the cold air, and pulled his fur-lined cloak closer to his neck and ears. How many times did he come back to Nor Esen and long for the comfort of Northwind Castle? And even more so now after long, grueling days of talks and strategies with his naval personnel? All he wanted was to shed his heavy cloak, sit in front of the fire inside his bedchambers, and kiss Selene again.

  He gripped the railing tighter at his last thought. Had she missed him as much as he had missed her? He rubbed the side of his face. His thoughts reminded him of a smitten young man, not those of a grand lord. And yet he was both.

  “It’s good to be home.”

  Damien started and looked to his left. Taegis had silently joined him at the prow. “Yes. I never tire of seeing the lights around Northwind Castle at night.”

  “Neither do I. But perhaps there is another reason you are happy to be home?”

  Damien smiled and looked back up at the castle, despite his earlier misgivings. The sky was dark now with a sprinkling of stars. The ship lurched, then grew still as it settled next to the pier. “Yes. It’s been a while since I had family to return back to.”

  “Family? Does that mean you see Lady Selene as your family now?”

  Damien paused, then answered, “I believe it does.”

  “Good,” Taegis said. “I’d hoped you would find comfort in a life partner. I wasn’t sure at first if Lady Selene would be that person, but from what I’ve witnessed over the last two months, she seems like she is a good match for you. It will be interesting to see what the next few months bring.”

  “Yes, it will be,” Damien said softly.

  “Will you be giving her a gift for the Festival of Light?”

  “Yes. She’s had many questions about the Light and the gifts of the Great Houses. I want to introduce her to both.”

  “You’ll take her to raise the waters?”

  “Yes, at the same place my father taught me, as long as another storm doesn’t come in.”

  Taegis slowly nodded. “I think that would be special.”

  Damien looked back up at Northwind Castle. The torches, candles, and fires were the only light against the backdrop of grey stone. “I think so too.”

  The smell of pine and spices filled his nose the moment Damien stepped into Northwind Castle. Already the servants were preparing for the festival by hanging garlands made of pine branches and satchels of spices along the stairways and corridors of the castle. There was humming along the hallway to the left as a maidservant swept, an old familiar tune about the first light on winter’s morning.

  “We have just enough time to change and join the others for the evening meal,” Taegis said.

  “Yes.” Damien had hoped to find Selene before dinner, although he wasn’t sure what he would say. He simply wanted to see her again.

  What an odd thought. And what a change from over a month ago. He hurried up the stairs and down the hallway toward his own bedchambers.

  As he passed the library, he paused. Perhaps she was in there. He opened the door. Candles were lit, and down at the other end of the room, past all of the bookshelves, a cheery fire burned in the fireplace. He made his way between the books and looked around the last bookshelf toward the built-in nook beneath a set of windows.

  Selene sat on the cushions, dressed in a simple gown of blue, with her legs pulled up and tucked beneath her skirt. The light from the fire bounced across the glass behind her, creating a background of orange and midnight around her body.

  She was so focused on her book that she didn’t hear him as he approached.

  He took in the sight of her: the blue sheen of her dark hair as it hung over one shoulder, her lips moving silently as she read, the smallness of her fingers as they held the tome.

  Just when he thought he should alert her to his presence, her head came up and her eyes met his. The silence of the library felt magnified as they stared at each other. “Damien,” she finally whispered.

  “Selene.”

  “You’re home.”

  He closed the distance between them and sat down on the other side of the nook, a foot away from her.

  “I thought you wouldn’t be back until tom
orrow.”

  “We finished early and left.”

  “How was your trip?”

  It felt like they were having a casual conversation over a light dinner instead of seeing each other for the first time in over a week. He wanted to reach over and hold her, smell her hair, kiss her lips. But he wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted. “I shared with Admiral Gerault and the captains the ideas and plans we came up with. I also shared with them all of the information I knew so we could plan a course of action.”

  Selene looked down with a small sigh. “So it has come to this. War will really be upon us.”

  “Yes. But we will be ready, the best way we can be.”

  “Still, there is no guarantee of victory.”

  Damien glanced away. “No, there isn’t. But at least we have the gifts of five of the seven houses.”

  “Five?”

  Damien looked back. “Yes. House Rafel declined signing the treaty. So that leaves my house, Luceras, Merek, most likely Vivek. And you.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “I’m not sure what help my gift will be, unless you plan on using my abilities in the same way my mother employs hers.”

  He shook his head. “No. There is another purpose for your dreamwalking. Perhaps we can discover it together.” More than anything he had faith in that, despite the shadow across his heart. A muffled bell rang beyond the walls, signaling dinner would be served soon. They both glanced toward the aisle that led to the door and stood. Selene placed the book on the table and headed for the exit.

  “Wait, Selene.” He reached out and gripped her elbow.

  She turned around, a puzzled look on her face.

  “I missed you.”

  Her eyes softened, and a smile crept across her lips. “I missed you too.”

  Before he could stop himself, Damien gathered her into his arms. She stiffened for a moment, then slowly moved her arms around his waist. He turned his head and breathed in the scent of her hair, some kind of attractive smell he could not place. Floral, maybe? His lips followed her cheek and jaw, but never touched her skin until he found her mouth, then he pressed his lips to hers.

  She responded by tightening her hold around him and kissing him back.

  He never wanted to let go. Her body was warm and solid within his arms, as if she had been made to fit there. And her lips tasted like sweet wine. This was what he’d dreamed of during his absence.

  The bell rang again.

  Reluctantly he pulled away. He didn’t want them to be late. And he hadn’t had a chance yet to change. “We should probably get ready for dinner.”

  Her eyes appeared even darker in the dim firelight. “All right. I’ll see you then.”

  She slowly drew away and slipped around the corner like a spirit. Damien stood there, staring at the edge of the bookshelf where she had disappeared, a trembling inside his chest.

  Yes, Selene was filling the hole inside his heart his family had left behind. But there was still a fear there, a fear of losing those he loved. There was a strong possibility that could happen. Selene had a mark on her set by her own house. He doubted Lady Ragna would give up her hunt for her eldest daughter. And when war broke out, Selene would be a target—both as a member of House Maris and House Ravenwood.

  But he couldn’t leave her here, in the safety of Northwind Castle. He felt certain she had a part to play in the upcoming conflict. Every house would be needed in order to push back the empire. The coalition would need her gift of dreamwalking, if they could figure out the original purpose of the gift. And when that moment came, he would have to let her go and leave her in the protection of the Light.

  Damien shook his head and started for the door that led out of the library. Others thought his faith was strong, but he knew better. They didn’t know how much he struggled with letting go of others.

  Death was the ultimate separation. He couldn’t stop it. And when it happened, it tore him apart.

  Not right now, he thought, running a hand through his hair as he left the library. I’m not going to dwell on what I can’t change. I don’t know the future. All I have is the present. And I’m going to be grateful for every moment.

  26

  Night after night the Dark Lady visited Selene in her dreams. And each morning she woke up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding. No matter how hard she ran or flew, she couldn’t escape the Dark Lady or lay hold of the light. She was trapped between both inside the dreamscape.

  Selene lay in her bed and watched the morning light trickle in through the window on the other side of the room. The smell of baking bread drifted beneath her door and filled her room with a sweet aroma, making her stomach gurgle. The last few days had filled her eyes, ears, and nose with the most delectable senses: pine wreaths, savory smells from the kitchen, the bustling of the servants as they cleaned the entire castle, painted glass balls hanging from windowpanes so the sunlight could catch the colors and spread them throughout the castle. She smiled as a guard walked by her room, humming an unfamiliar tune.

  Absolutely enchanting. And a welcome repose from her nightmares.

  Selene slowly rose from her bed. She still wasn’t sure what this Festival of Light was, but it appeared to land on the same day as the Turn of Winter and the start of the new year. Given how much thought and care was going into the preparation of this festival, it looked like it was a highly regarded celebration.

  Despite her dreams each night, Selene couldn’t help but catch the feverish excitement spreading around the castle and Nor Esen. And best of all, Damien was home to be a part of it.

  Damien.

  Selene paused behind the changing screens, her fingers curled around the simple tunic she wore for training. He had found her in the library last night and admitted he had missed her. And she had missed him.

  And that kiss . . .

  Even now her lips tingled from the remembered touch. He was strong and yet gentle at the same time. That thought sent a flutter of emotions through her body as she pulled her sparring tunic over her head and tied the front laces.

  Then she paused, her hands still on the ties. What was this feeling growing inside of her? When he was gone, it felt like part of her was gone too. And when he was near, it was like a fire burned inside of her, brightening even further when they touched.

  She turned and glanced at herself in the mirror, her heart thumping. That was good, right? She had hoped someday that the man she married would be someone she respected and loved. Perhaps her hope was coming true.

  So what was next?

  The room suddenly grew hot. Selene tugged at the edge of her tunic above her collarbone as her face flushed. Their marriage was still in name only. Was she ready for more?

  “I will never do anything without asking you first.” Damien’s words came back to her from that morning when he first kissed her.

  She stared directly at her image and dropped her hands to her sides. “Do you want this marriage or not?” Her lips moved with her words in the reflection. “There is no place for fear, remember?”

  She would keep telling herself that. Besides, what did she have to be afraid of, other than the unknown? Sure, there was the chance that Damien might prove to be a different man than she thought he was, but she was almost certain she knew him. After all, she had walked in his dreams and seen his soul.

  The new year was almost here. Selene lifted her chin and stared herself straight in the eye. She could make it a new start to their marriage as well.

  Remember, no fear.

  After she finished dressing, she stepped out of her room, surprised to see Sten standing guard at her door. Selene had only seen the older guard in passing since their arrival at Northwind Castle. He must have been the one she had heard humming out in the hallway.

  “Sten, it’s good to see you.”

  “My lady,” he said with a bow.

  As they walked to the training room, Selene asked, “What can you tell me about the Festival of Light? I’ve never heard of it until now.”r />
  Sten smiled. “Ah yes, our Festival of Light. It is a time when the people of the Northern Shores come together and remember hope and light. And eat good food.” He winked at Selene. “It is also customary to give gifts.”

  “Give gifts?”

  “Aye. When I was young, every year my mother would craft mittens for me and my brothers from rabbit fur. They were the softest gloves I’ve ever worn.”

  “And what do you do now for gifts?”

  “If I’m not on duty, I spend the day with my brothers and their families and usually bring something I’ve whittled from wood. Gifts given during the Festival of Light are to come from the heart, from one person to another.”

  “I see.” She wrinkled her brow in thought.

  “Along with the gifts, the monks from Baris Abbey visit Nor Esen and bring their own kind of special gift.”

  “What is it?”

  Sten smiled again. “You’ll see. I don’t want to spoil it for you.”

  Puzzled, she made her way into the training room. Sten whistled a tune as he headed back down the hall.

  Her mind turned back to Sten’s comment about gifts. What kind of gifts did people give each other? He said they were heartfelt. Did Damien plan on giving her a gift? She had nothing to give to him, nothing in her possession that could be offered as a gift. And even if she did, what could she give that came from her heart?

  Inside the room, four guards were sparring, leaving the area with the practice dummies available.

  Selene ignored the surprised and cautious glances sent her way as she drew her swords from the double scabbard around her waist and stood before the straw dummy. She seemed to be getting more of those glances over the last fortnight, even more than when she first arrived at Northwind Castle.

  Perhaps it was her presence in the training room that made them uncomfortable. After all, this was her first time coming here alone. But Damien had encouraged her to follow her own pursuits, and she was finally following his advice.