The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy

by R. T. Kaelin

  The Borderlander nodded and said softly, “I would not speak false of something so important.”

  She looked back to Zecus just as he advanced on Jak, driving him back with a whirling assault, his staff a blur. Jak backpedaled wildly, an expression of undeniable panic frozen on his face as he frantically deflected the blows.

  Staring back to Joshmuel, she said, “Please do not say anything to him. To anyone.”

  Joshmuel inclined his head, saying, “A request from you earns my silence.”

  “Thank you,” replied Kenders.

  Lifting his gaze, he smiled slightly, “Although I would have remained quiet regardless. I do not wish to interfere in my son’s life.” Joshmuel’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Zecus’ fate is his own, left to follow its own course.”

  Kenders eyed the Borderlander curiously, wondering at the man’s strange choice of words.

  He looked away quickly, stared back to the yard, and asked, “He is improving, is he not?”

  Kenders looked back to Zecus and nodded.

  “He is getting better.”

  Joshmuel leaned over and said softly, “Were I two decades younger, I’d be out there myself. Perhaps I could even best him.”

  Picturing the father and son sparring one another brought a tiny smile to her face. The pair sat in silence for a time before Kenders finally broke the quiet.

  “What should I do?”

  Joshmuel glanced over, his brow furrowed in confusion.

  “Pardon?”

  Turning to stare at him, she repeated herself.

  “What should I do? About Zecus.”

  “Ah,” muttered Joshmuel. He was quiet a long moment, staring at the ground, apparently thinking. “I will tell you what I have always told my own children when they ask for advice.” He lifted his head, locked his brown eyes onto hers and said, “You have good instincts. Follow them, trust yourself, and do what comes natural. Things will work out.”

  Now it was Kenders’ turn to be confused.

  “Pardon?”

  “I have heard your tale,” said Joshmuel. “Numerous times, in fact. While some might mark your actions as rash or thoughtless, it is hard to deny the results. Either you have the luck of Ketus himself or you have incredible instincts. Regardless, keep doing what you are doing. It has served you well so far, yes?”

  A rueful grin spread over her lips.

  “That is the exact opposite advice that Khin or Broedi would—”

  She cut off as a sudden surge of black and white crackled inside her chest and head. The strength of the magic a dozen times greater than the tiny bursts she normally felt at the enclave. She leapt to her feet and scanned the courtyard, using her eyes and whatever the other sense was that allowed her to feel the Strands.

  “What is it?” asked Joshmuel in a worried voice.

  Running her gaze over the ranks of soldiers, Kenders took a moment to mutter, “Magic.” Spotting a bundle of black and white Strands amongst the soldiers, she said, “There it is.”

  Joshmuel stood from the bench and asked, “What? Where?”

  There was no reason to point it out to Joshmuel. He would not be able to see the Weave.

  A moment later, the sound of ripping fabric filled the yard. The telltale rippling of a port appeared where the Weave had been, hovering in the middle of the practicing soldiers. Two men in the midst of an intense duel were mere feet away from stepping into the inky void. Remaining calm, Kenders reached for a large number of Strands of Air and quickly knit together a simple pattern Khin had made her practice well over a hundred times. The moment the Weave was complete, she directed it at the port.

  A quick, almost solid wall of air rushed outward in all directions from the tear, knocking back at least a dozen soldiers. The men exclaimed in surprise, their sharp shouts of alarm echoing through the yard as they were tossed to the ground. She cringed as they rolled backwards, swords flying. The blast of wind whipped past her a moment later, ruffling her heavy winter dress and unbound hair.

  Another rush of muted crackling announced a second Weave, one not of her making. Twenty feet above the port, she spotted a number of white Strands pop into existence, mixing with the dirty brown of Stone. The Air swirled into tight, twisted ropes, fusing with the Stone and fashioning a cage of sorts. As the Weave finished, it slammed down around the port, tossing up gravel into the air. The speed with which the Weave had been completed left no doubt in her mind who was responsible. She glanced over her shoulder and spotted Khin standing on the battlement, staring into the courtyard.

  She took a quick look around the courtyard. She and Khin were the only mages here at the moment, although she imagined any mage able to sense Air or Stone was running through the halls now.

  Commander Aiden called out, “Surround the port!”

  Sergeant Trell followed the order, crying, “Swords drawn! At the ready!”

  Jak and Zecus were both running to the front of the men, staves up. Former Red Sentinels and Shadow Mane soldiers alike rushed toward the black rip, forming a loose circle around it and closing in quickly.

  Suddenly, a short figure wearing a wide-brimmed hat stepped through the tear. Immediately, everyone in the yard relaxed. Jak and Zecus slowed to a walk. A few soldiers even lowered their blades. A large, relived sigh slipped from Kenders.

  “Oh, thank the Gods.”

  With open astonishment, Joshmuel muttered, “That is the tomble I met in Lakeborough.”

  Nodding, Kenders said with a tiny smile, “Yes, it is.”

  Nundle took a few steps forward, away from the port, and halted. He twisted about, gawking at the Weave of Air and Stone entrapping him. Wondering why Khin had not yet dismissed the Weave despite having caged an obvious friend, Kenders peered back to the wall where the aicenai stood, his gaze still fixed on the port. His eyes shifted to her and she felt a short burst of Air. Half a breath later, his light, parchment-thin voice spoke into her ear.

  “We know not what else might come through. Remain alert.”

  Kenders frowned. Khin was right. They should be careful.

  She turned her attention back to the port just in time to spot a second tomble stepping through. His hair was light-brown, he was dressed as if he had just come in from the fields, and he used a walking stick to support his right leg.

  He stopped a pace from the port and stared about the courtyard with cautious eyes. Nundle said something and waved to the second arrival. The new tomble hobbled over, stood beside Nundle, and appeared to say something in response. Nundle smiled and nodded. They seemed friendly enough. Kenders hoped that was a good sign.

  Broedi stepped through the port a moment later, leading Nundle’s chestnut horse behind him. Once the horse was safely through, the port shut with a soft pop. Khin’s cage winked out of existence a moment later.

  “They’re back early,” murmured Kenders.

  Broedi and Nundle could not have reached the Celestial Empire already. Even by Broedi’s best estimates, it would take two more turns to reach the nation of the Gods.

  Glancing over at Joshmuel, Kenders smiled and asked, “How would you like to meet Broedi?”

  Joshmuel’s eyes widened at the name.

  “The great lion?”

  He stared back to the group forming about the three newcomers.

  Kenders nodded once and said with a smile, “Come with me.”

  Knowing that he would surely follow, she hurried across the courtyard to where everyone was gathering. The bulk of the soldiers were already moving away, ordered to fall back by Commander Aiden. When she and Joshmuel reached the group, she found Sergeant Trell, Zecus, Jak, and Commander Aiden all staring at the brown-haired tomble, half of them with mouths hanging open.

  Kenders glanced at each of the men, wondering at the reason for their slack-jawed expressions. Nundle peeked out from under his hat, wearing a wide grin on his face. Broedi’s lips revealed the typical, slight smile that he wore when he found something amusing.

  St
epping up to the group, she asked, “Why are you back so soon?” She shifted her gaze to the new tomble. “And who might you be?”

  The brown-haired tomble turned to face her and leaned on his walking stick. As soon as his eyes settled on her, he smiled and shook his head in quiet disbelief.

  “Bless the Gods. You look just like Eliza.”

  Kenders froze, her eyes locking onto the tomble’s face.

  Broedi looked at the little tomble and rumbled, “Tobias, I would like you to meet Kenders Isaac, born to Aryn Atticus and Eliza Kap and reared as daughter by Thaddeus and Marie Isaac.”

  The tomble nodded politely.

  “Good days ahead, Kenders.”

  Turning to her, Broedi said, “Kenders, I would like you to meet Tobias Donngord, the Eye of Nelnora.”

  Kenders stared, stunned. She recognized the title instantly. The Eye of Nelnora was one of the White Lions. Yet a tomble stood before her. Her eyes widened as she realized she was gaping like a fool. In a rush, she said, “And good memories behind, sir.”

  The tomble nodded graciously.

  “No ‘sir.’ Just Tobias.”

  “Good memories behind, Tobias,” corrected Kenders. She paused a moment before adding, “I apologize for my reaction. It’s just that, well, I’m a bit surprised.”

  Nundle spoke up, saying, “There’s been a lot of that lately.”

  Kenders asked, “Where did you find—”

  Broedi held up a hand, interrupting her. “We will explain everything, I promise, but I would like to do it only once.” Looking around the assembled group, he asked, “Where is Nikalys?”

  “Reading, if you can believe it,” answered Jak. “I can fetch him if you’d like.”

  Nodding once, Broedi said, “Good. Bring him to Lady Vivienne’s offices immediately.”

  Jak handed his staff to Zecus, turned, and began jogging to the tower that the three siblings shared.

  Broedi announced, “Kenders, Commander, Sergeant, come with me, please.”

  As he turned to head to a set of doors in the wall, he seemed to spot Joshmuel for the first time. Stopping short, the hillman shifted his gaze to Zecus and then back to the elder Alsher. After a moment, he gave Joshmuel a slight bow and rumbled in his deep baritone.

  “My pleasure is to meet you in peace today, sire of Zecus. Welcome to Storm Island.”

  Joshmuel managed a quick, surprised bow, and replied, “And may peace bless our parting, great lion.”

  Broedi frowned at the use of the honorific. He had spent weeks trying to break Zecus of the habit. Staring between father and son, he said, “Both of you should come as well. Something has happened to the Borderlands.” The foreboding tone of his voice chased away every bit of warmth Kenders felt at seeing Broedi and Nundle again.

  Handing the reins of Nundle’s horse to a stableman who had run up, the hillman turned and began to stride toward the set of doors. Nundle gave her a sad smile and followed after whispering a quick hello to Joshmuel. Tobias stared at Kenders for another moment, shook his head, and lurched after the group.

  Kenders looked at Joshmuel first, then to Zecus. Both wore expressions of deep worry. Her personal concerns from a short time ago seemed suddenly frivolous.

  Chapter 20: Yearning

  Jak hurried up the chilly stairwell, taking the stone steps two at a time. Upon reaching the top floor, he strode down the cold and drafty hall to the oak door at the passageway’s end. Without pausing, he put his hand on Nikalys’ door and shoved, sending it flying open, silent on its well-oiled hinges. In the brief moment before the door crashed into the interior wall, Jak spied Nikalys sitting in his chair, slouched over the table. He was either intently reading or asleep. Jak would have bet gold ducats on the latter.

  A small, anticipatory smile touched Jak’s lips. He would enjoy this.

  The oaken door struck the wall inside, sending a resounding crack through the quiet room, loud enough that it even startled Jak.

  Nikalys jolted upright in his chair, turned his head quickly, and—a moment later—was standing before Jak, the white Blade of Horum drawn and leveled at Jak’s chest.

  With his eyes wide and staring at the tip of the sword, Jak muttered nervously, “Ah, Nik?” The shimmering metal shone bright, brighter than it should in the diffused light of the room.

  Nikalys lowered his sword and slumped over.

  “Gods, Jak! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

  Eyebrows raised, Jak said, “Sneak? I could not have made more noise if I were driving a four-horse wagon on the stairs to get here. You should have easily heard me.” With a tilt of his head and a friendly smirk, he added, “You weren’t asleep at your studies, were you, great Progeny?”

  Nikalys peered at Jak and gave him a sheepish smile.

  “Would you believe that I was reading?”

  Jak grinned wide.

  “Would you believe that I have just been named the new king of the duchies?”

  Chuckling, Nikalys sheathed the Blade of Horum, eyed Jak, and asked, “What’s going on? Had I been asleep—and I’m not saying I was—I was certainly not sleeping long enough for afternoon drills to be over.” His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Did something happen?”

  Jak gave a cavalier shrug of his shoulders.

  “You could say that.”

  “Oh, just tell me,” muttered Nikalys. He nodded back toward his desk. “I have reading I should be doing.”

  “Don’t you mean a nap you could be taking?”

  Leveling a steady stare towards Jak, Nikalys asked firmly, “Why are you here, Jak?”

  Sensing Nikalys was not in the mood for jesting, without further preamble, Jak announced, “Broedi and Nundle are back.”

  Nikalys’ directness fled immediately, his eyebrows shooting up in clear surprise.

  “Already? But they weren’t supposed to reach the Seat of Nelnora for…I don’t know…at least a few turns still. Did Broedi change his mind?”

  With a cryptic smile, Jak said, “No, he did not.”

  “Then why are they here?”

  “They, ah…they came across something unexpected.”

  Clearly puzzled, Nikalys peered at Jak for a heartbeat or two before asking, “What aren’t you telling me?” His tone was oddly demanding and one he would not have used with Jak as recently as last Spring.

  Relishing the moment, Jak said, “They found another of the White Lions. He’s here with them now, in Lady Vivienne’s office.”

  He was hoping to shock his brother with the revelation, but Nikalys’ response was wholly unexpected, simply because there was no reaction at all. His face remained a blank, unreadable mask.

  Worried, Jak said, “Nik? Did you hear me? They—”

  “He?” interjected Nikalys, a tiny flicker of hope lighting up his eyes.

  Confused, Jak stared at his brother a moment before he suddenly realized what Nikalys must be thinking. With his eyes opening wide, he said, “Oh! Gods, no! It’s not your…it’s not Aryn!” He had almost said father, but could not bring himself to give the designation to the White Lion. As long as Thaddeus remained Nikalys and Kenders’ father, he was their brother.

  Nikalys’ shoulders slumped, the corners of his lips tumbling downward.

  “Oh.”

  “Gods, I’m sorry, Nik. I shouldn’t have—”

  Jak felt bad. He had wanted to shock his brother, not disappoint him.

  Waving his hands in a dismissive gesture, Nikalys said, “Birds have wings.” The phrase was one their mother had often used. If a bird slipped from a tree branch, it did not matter much. Birds have wings.

  Nikalys eyed the floor, took a quick breath, let it out, and stood tall. “Truthfully, I’m…I’m relieved that it’s not him.” He peered down at the stone floor and mumbled, “Odd, isn’t it?”

  Unsure what he should say, Jak chose to remain quiet.

  After a moment, Nikalys looked up and sighed.

  “Well, who is it, then?”

  With a h
int of relief the awkward moment had passed, Jak said, “Tobias.”

  “Tobias?” muttered Nikalys. Shaking his head, he placed his hands on his hips. “The name sounds familiar, I think, but...”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Jak said, “I thought the same. But Broedi introduced him as Tobias Donngord, the Eye of Nelnora.” He paused a moment before adding with a slight smile, “He’s a tomble.”

  His brother began to chuckle aloud, staring expectantly at Jak, clearly waiting for him to join in the mirth. When Jak did not, Nikalys’ smile quickly faded.

  “You’re not jesting, are you?”

  Jak shook his head, saying, “I am not.” Holding his hand to his waist, he said, “He’s this tall with brown hair, a bent right leg, and carries a cane to help him walk.” His smile fluttered a bit wider. “A very tiny cane.”

  “Truly?”

  Nikalys was still skeptical.

  Leaning against the open doorframe, Jak crossed his arms and said, “Come see for yourself. Broedi sent me to bring you to Lady Vivienne’s offices.”

  Moving toward the doorway, Nikalys said, “No need to keep everyone waiting.” Motioning with a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the open volume on his desk, he added, “I’m finished with that book.”

  Jak raised an eyebrow.

  “Truly?”

  Nikalys winked as he passed, a slight smile on his face.

  “Yes, Jak. I am finished with it.”

  Frowning, Jak turned to follow his younger brother into the hallway.

  “Did you read it, Nik?”

  Nikalys glanced over his shoulder, grinned wide, and continued striding down the hall without answering the question.

  Shaking his head, Jak pulled the door shut, and hurried after him.

  Chapter 21: Windows

  As the brothers approached Lady Vivienne’s offices, the baroness’ aide, sitting at the table beside the double doors, looked up from his papers, made eye contact with them, and motioned for the guards to step aside. Jak nodded at the soldiers as he passed. He had sparred against both a number of times during drills.