The Ryn (Eyes of E'veria)

by Serena Chase

  “Indeed!” Ayden grinned. “Anya was given great honors by the King and named her father’s heir, the only female Regent in the history of E’veria. She eventually married, and her sons became knights to generations of Kings. Even now some of her descendants operate in that capacity.”

  “What of her daughters?”

  “She had only sons,” Ayden said. “In fact, until this most recent generation of Bear-men,” he said with a smile toward his brother, “there were no direct descendants of Lady Anya who were female.”

  Rose looked at Gladiel. “Your daughter, Erielle.”

  “Indeed.” The pride in his smile was both infectious and indulgent. “The first girl born to our family in two hundred years.”

  “Not a girl,” Rose said with a grin. “A Bear-woman.”

  Ayden chuckled. “And she is that, to be sure. But sadly, the truth of our legacy is lost to most of E’veria, and the Bear-men have been relegated to scary legends told around fires on gloomy nights.” Ayden winked. “And in Veetrish parlors every day of the year.”

  “Hear, hear!” Rose laughed.

  A log let off a loud pop in the hearth as if joining in their laughter.

  “My brother once told a rather entertaining version of the same tale,” she said after a moment. “In Rowlen’s story it was Lady Anya herself who led the army. After the battle she fell in love with one of the Bear-men and, in time, became the mother of many legendary beasts.” Taking on an expression of mock dismay, she lowered her voice. “Sadly, the poor lady became ostracized from polite society for loving such a frightening brute.”

  Gladiel and Ayden roared with laughter. Tears rolled down Ayden’s cheeks when he finally spoke. “Who knew Lady Anya’s descendants,” he gasped on another fit of laughter, “were such monsters!”

  When their laughter died down, Gladiel stood. “It is growing late,” he said. “And I’m afraid we have a very long day ahead of us tomorrow, Rose. As much as I wish we could continue this discussion through the night, I suggest we retire.”

  Ayden reached for Rose’s hand and bent to kiss it. “A warm welcome will ever await you at my door, Lady Rose. Sleep well this night. May you have safe travels on the morrow.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gladiel and Rose departed just as the first rays of dawn filtered through the trees. For the first hour or two the lack of light impeded their vision and they were forced to travel slowly. As daylight increased, so did their speed. At least until they reached the Ursina River.

  The river was partially frozen and the trail alongside it was a rocky, frost-hardened narrow that had likely been carved by elk or deer rather than man and horse. Bits of icy rock kept them at a cautious pace. Rose and Gladiel spoke little, but the cheerful birdsong and water gurgling between sheets of ice seemed noise enough. Soon, however, even those sounds were drowned out by the thundering pulse of the multi-leveled Brune Falls.

  “It’s going to get a bit difficult here!” Gladiel shouted over the roar of the falls. “Follow my path exactly!”

  Rose nodded.

  The spray of the falls misted the air and added a wet sheen to Rose’s cloak as she carefully followed Gladiel down the steep incline.

  “Whoa, boy. Whoa.” Rose pulled the reins gently when her horse got a little too close to the rear end of Gladiel’s. The last thing either of them needed was for Gladiel’s mount to get irritated into kicking out at Stanza. Stanza braced his front legs to obey her command, but his hooves slid across a patch of ice.

  Rose’s stomach flipped as they neared the deadly ledge, but Stanza found his footing just in time. “It’s all right, Stanza.” She patted his side and clicked her tongue. “There’s a good lad.”

  They finally reached the bottom, and when they got a bit farther away, Rose looked over her shoulder at the waterfall. Like the river above, the flow was a mixture of stillness and movement. Giant hanging icicles, thick and sparkling in the sun, held fast next to the rush of cold water, which was adding to the icicles’ girth daily, inch by icy inch. It was beautiful from this side. But she hoped she never had to repeat the trip down again. Even the thought of it reminded her muscles of their fatigue. It would have been nice to take a break, to get off her horse and walk about a bit, but with only a spare glance or two back to make sure she still followed, Sir Gladiel continued on.

  It was late afternoon when he finally reined in his horse. “Are you hungry, Rose?”

  “Famished.” Her stomach had let her know more than an hour earlier that midday was approaching, and even though her muscles had relaxed a bit, she was more than ready to stretch them.

  “We’re making very good time,” Gladiel said as they ate the food Bess had packed for them. “We should reach the bridge by nightfall. We’ll camp on this side tonight and cross it in the morning, following Fynnen Stream the rest of the way.”

  Rose’s head swam with the unfamiliar landmarks. “The trail along the stream leads to the Bear’s Rest?” Even saying the name of her new home made the hair stand up on her arms. Ayden’s tale had helped her relax about the creatures inhabiting the Great Wood, but after being away from her aunt and cousin for nearly a decade, she was still decidedly nervous about the upcoming reunion.

  “Unfortunately, there is nothing you might consider a trail, per se.” Gladiel’s slight smirk was the only tell that referenced Rose’s comments from the previous day. “But the stream will lead us nearly to the door of your new home.”

  All too soon they had packed away the remnants of their meal. Rose couldn’t help but groan a little as she pulled herself into the saddle.

  “The trip down the falls is a bit taxing, isn’t it?”

  Rose arched an eyebrow. “A bit? My legs are still quivering.” But her tone only held a trace of the sarcasm she might have used had Gladiel not been the Regent of Mynissbyr.

  Still, he laughed. “Ah, but you’re young. You’ll recover much faster than these old bones will allow me.”

  He clicked his tongue at his horse and they were off again, riding swifter now that they had reached lower, more level ground. They stopped for another quick meal as the sun touched the trees on its downward journey, this time supplementing the remaining food from luncheon with mugs of keola. Before the light completely disappeared, the bridge came into sight.

  Rose gaped at the arching log and stone structure that spanned the river at a narrow place. “It’s a real bridge!”

  Gladiel dismounted. “Indeed. What did you think it would be?”

  Rose slid from Stanza’s back. “I don’t know. I suppose I thought that since I’ve had to reevaluate my definition of the word ‘trail’ while in Your Grace’s province that the same might be true of what comprises a bridge in the Great Wood.”

  “Ah.” Gladiel smiled. “So you were expecting a few slippery stones perhaps? Or a wide, rotting log?”

  Rose laughed. “Something like that. But I must say I am impressed. Not only does it appear structurally sound, it paints quite a picturesque scene.” She grinned. “My compliments to the Regent,” she said and dipped her head.

  Later that night, while Rose made her bed near the fire on the frozen ground, she missed Ayden’s warm cottage. But sleep came quickly even then. When dawn once again opened her eyes, the happy chirping of birds was accompanied by lighthearted conversation and a sense of happy expectation as they crossed the bridge and made their way through the Wood toward Fynnen Stream.

  Little more than a creek, Fynnen Stream was covered in a layer of ice, though it was thin enough in places that Rose could see bubbles of water moving beneath its glassy surface. They followed its southwesterly path for the rest of the day and half of the next as they gained ground toward their destination.

  “There it is, Rose.” Gladiel pointed to a sunny clearing and a dark shadow she could just see through the trees. “The Bear’s Rest. Your new home.”

  Approaching the Bear’s Rest from the rear, Rose was impressed with the size of the log structure. The roof,
like Ayden’s, was thatched, but sheltered a much larger building that rose higher than Ayden’s by far at its peaks. There were three large dormers in the front and two in the rear. The peak of each dormer was adorned with a wooden carving that upon closer examination resembled said sleeping bear. Smoke poured from at least three of the several chimneys protruding from the roof, giving the promise of a warm welcome.

  The front yard held a stable capable of housing several horses and a small barn with a few livestock. A man she vaguely recognized from her youth came out of the stable and nearly tripped when he saw Gladiel. After greeting the knight, he turned to her.

  “So good to have you back, Miss—I mean, Mistress Rose,” he pulled the woolen cap from his head.

  His voice aided her memory. Walen. The stable master had been with Sir Drinius’s family for years. It was Walen who had first taught her how to ride.

  “It’s good to be here, Walen,” she smiled. “I trust,” Rose paused as the woman’s name escaped her, “your wife is well?”

  He beamed. “My Eneth will be happy you remembered her,” he said. “She’s missed you so these years. We all have.”

  “Thank you.” Rose said as a rush of nerves returned. She certainly hoped it was true. Although Uncle Drinius had assured her of Aunt Alaine’s affection, memory of the doubts Mrs. Scyles had fostered caused Rose’s stomach to wobble a bit as she dismounted and gave Stanza’s reins and care into Walen’s capable hands.

  “And speaking of Eneth,” Sir Gladiel said and offered Rose his arm, “shall we go see if she has a kettle on? I would welcome a cup of something warm.”

  Rose nodded, but bit her lip and brushed her hands down the skirts that had certainly seen cleaner days. “Do I look presentable?”

  But Gladiel’s reply was interrupted by a shout from the direction of the house.

  “Rose!” A young woman raced across the porch and down the steps, her white-blond hair streaming out behind her. “Rose!” she called. “I can’t believe it! You’re finally here!”

  “Lily?” Rose returned her cousin’s enthusiastic hug, though it was slightly awkward due to the marked difference in their heights. “You’re scarcely taller than when I left!” Though Lily was several months older, Rose was more than a head taller than her petite cousin.

  “I thought I’d never see you again! It’s so good you’re here. The lodge is almost completely renovated. Father has done a miraculous job with the—well, hello, Sir Gladiel!”

  Gladiel grinned. “Lily, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that many words come out of your mouth at once.” He laughed. “I might be led to believe that you’ve been storing them up all these years.”

  Lily took a step back from Rose. Her alabaster cheeks grew pink. “Well, yes. I imagine I have.”

  Rose’s chest tightened when Uncle Drinius’s deep, familiar voice called from the porch. She looked up, wondering if he would have shrunken or become diminished somehow from his injury, but he looked as hale as ever. And beside him, Aunt Alaine dabbed her eyes.

  “I’m sure Rose and Gladiel are cold and tired, Lily,” Drinius called. “Bring them in! You can talk inside.”

  Lily grasped Rose’s hand and pulled her out of Gladiel’s grasp, much as she had when they were children.

  Although this time, Rose mused as she approached her aunt and uncle, Lily is pulling me toward something rather than away from it.

  Memories of childhood assailed her then. Her penchant for mischief, a trait that had been not only encouraged but refined by her Veetrish brothers, had often been curtailed by the easily-prickled conscience of her meeker cousin. Regardless of Lily’s exuberant welcome, Rose wondered if such a refined young noblewoman from Stoen would have anything in common with the Veetrish country girl who’d been deposited at her door once the newness of their reunion wore off.

  Rose had little time to ponder the future of their friendship, however. Before she even realized her uncle had left the porch, she was engulfed in his embrace.

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come for you sooner.”

  “Sorry? Uncle Drinius, you were hurt!”

  He squeezed her tighter before releasing her, “I’m nearly healed and you’re here safely. All is well. Now come greet your aunt.”

  “Welcome, Rose.”

  Aunt Alaine was every bit as beautiful as Rose remembered. With porcelain skin and eyes the same pale blue as the winter sky, her hair was the color of sunlight on a cloud. A few small lines about her eyes betrayed the passage of time, but they did not mar her beauty.

  Alaine opened her arms for an embrace. As she leaned down to accept it, Rose was almost worried that to hug her aunt would risk breaking her.

  Next to Alaine’s and Lily’s wispy frames, Rose thought, I am as cloddish as a giant.

  Drinius cleared his throat. “No sense standing out here all day. Come along now.”

  As Eneth readied the table, Lily gave Rose a tour of the lodge.

  Though the Bear’s Rest would have comfortably fit inside Mirthan Hall several times over, the lodge was more than adequate for their current needs and had a very cozy feel. Each room had its own stone fireplace, though they varied in size. There were six large bedrooms on the second floor, though not that many beds, and the ground level boasted a modest kitchen, an immense front room that served as both parlor and dining room, and two small bedrooms. A smaller parlor on the opposite side of the lodge’s wide, open staircase had windows on two sides and it served quite nicely as a sewing room.

  Though it couldn’t rival Mirthan Hall in either size or charm, the interior of the Bear’s Rest was sufficient. The tapestries and woven coverings on the beds and furniture made the space seem warm and snug. And Lily’s company for the tour, while having matured as would be expected, felt blessedly familiar. Rose took a deep breath, and as she exhaled, the bulk of her nervousness fled. She missed her Veetrish family, but she had no doubt she would soon feel at home.

  As she and Lily made their way back to the dining room, Rose paused to wonder how long her stay in this home would last . . . and if the legends of the Wood would be enough to keep the Cobelds away.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The next year passed swiftly, and Rose, indeed, felt at home with Sir Drinius and his family. Gladiel had not stayed long after delivering Rose, but he made the occasional appearance, bringing bits of news and supplies, like fabric and spices, with him.

  Happenings at the Bear’s Rest were not the same lively sort Rose was used to in Veetri, but the members of the household were certainly industrious. Under Eneth’s tutelage, Rose, Lily, and Alaine learned to garden from the abundance of seeds Drinius had brought from Stoen, and they also learned how to prepare simple meals, a task none of them had undertaken before. Rose often grew restless, but when Drinius learned of her proficiency with the dagger, he insisted she keep it up.

  With the help of Walen, who had squired to a knight until a training accident took the thumb and two fingers from his sword arm, Rose fashioned men of straw to use as targets. Whenever the house seemed too confining, she escaped to practice marking them with the dagger.

  Life moved at a steady if cloying pace, but practicing with her dagger and joining Drinius to exercise the horses gave Rose welcome and frequent breaks from the house-bound activities Aunt Alaine seemed determined she learn.

  Having just returned from a ride with Sir Gladiel, who would soon leave again, Rose was running a curry comb over Stanza’s hindquarters when her horse whinnied a greeting.

  “Walen,” she said without looking up, “as I’ve told you a hundred times, I like brushing Stanza. Now let me be.”

  “Rose.”

  “Uncle Drinius!” She laughed and turned. “I thought you were Walen, here to lecture me about doing his job.”

  He smiled, but it was weak. “A rider was here while you were out with Gladiel.”

  Rose reached a hand to her head. She still wore her woolen cap, but her hair was visible, plaited in a thick braid, hanging d
own her back. “Is he still here?” she whispered. She knew better than to be seen by anyone outside their small group.

  “No. He didn’t stay long.” His lip twitched. “It seems he’s not that fond of the Wood.”

  In the next stall, Gladiel chuckled. “What news, Drinius?”

  “We’ve been summoned to Salderyn.”

  Rose blinked. “We have?” she asked at the same time Gladiel said, “All of us?”

  Drinius shook his head. “Gladiel and I.”

  Rose gaped at her uncle. “You’re leaving?” She hung up the curry comb and exited the stall.

  He nodded, looking miserable.

  “Ah, Rose.” Gladiel stepped around the corner and wrinkled his nose. “You’re safer in this wood than anywhere else in the world. Haven’t I told you time and again?”

  Drinius scowled. “I wish I were as confident as you, Gladiel. Or that we at least had some more ebonswarth powder.”

  “Well I certainly don’t!” Rose vehemently shook her head, suppressing a shiver at the memory of the haunted faces of Lord Whittier’s guards. “I don’t ever want to be near that evil powder again.”

  “Walen will still be here,” Gladiel said. “He has all the skills of a knight. Even with his weak arm, he’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  “True, but it doesn’t sit well that we should leave four defenseless women alone here in the Wood with only one man to protect them.”

  “I’m hardly defenseless.” Rose lifted her chin.

  “That’s not the point, Rose! You don’t know what sort of—”

  “Drinius.” Gladiel’s voice stilled her uncle’s tirade. “Friend.” His tone softened. “I understand your reticence. I do. But we’ve been summoned. The Knight’s Oath requires we obey.”

  “We’ve made other oaths, as well.” Drinius ground the words through his teeth. “One does not undo the other.”

  “She’ll be safe here. They all will.”

  Drinius pressed his lips together. “I don’t like it.”