Coalition 02.5 - The Kingbird

by Justine Davis

  “Good,” Dax had said at the time. “Coalition thugs live too bedamned long already.”

  “They’re only averaging about forty years these days,” Califa had said with some satisfaction.

  “As I said,” he’d replied, making her smile.

  He was proud of her. She fought more fiercely now for Trios than she ever had for the Coalition, despite being one of their most honored officers. As did Shaylah.

  “For whatever it might be worth,” Dax said, “While I loved my sister, I cannot picture you with anyone other than Shaylah.”

  This time it was Dare who stopped mid-stride. He turned to look at him. “It is worth,” he said, his voice low, “more than you can imagine, my brother.”

  They continued on, keeping the children in sight with an effort. They at last reached the goal, the ledge called the lookout, where one could stand and look out over mountains as far as one could see. To their left they looked out over Lake Geron, a small sapphire set amid the rocky peaks. Dare called out a caution to the children to stay back until they checked the edge. It appeared to have endured as always and was as solid as ever under their feet.

  As soon as they turned their attention to the view, Dax wished that they hadn’t come at all. Because from here the magnitude of the damage done by the Coalition was clearly visible. The land was scarred, in places still blackened, as if the original invasion had happened days instead of years ago. Trios was recovering, but it was a slow process and many places were still uninhabitable. And while her resources were nearly infinite, much was now inaccessible thanks to the rubble left behind.

  Dax knew it was a constant battle for Dare. So many had died at Coalition hands—only a quarter of Trios’s once thriving population had survived. The desire to repopulate was strong, yet until they were able to support a larger populace that was inviting problems. So while Dare was not the sort of leader to make decrees about people’s personal lives, he led by example; Lyon was his only child, and he had explained to the people why. Dax had followed with only Shaina, and that had pounded home the message. The people had responded in kind, realizing they must proceed slowly. A sad thing, Dax thought. Dare should have a flock of children to bring up in the noble tradition of his house.

  While he himself, he thought wryly, probably should have foregone it altogether. But that would mean never having had Shaina, and for all that her life would not be what he had hoped and imagined for her, he would not have missed the presence of his quicksilver girl in his life for anything.

  He thought once more about telling her, of revealing the truth he had kept hidden. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Especially now, when she was delighting in simply being a child. Shaylah, as wise as her mate, had been right; this was needed, by all of them.

  Perhaps Dare most of all, he thought as he looked at the king.

  In the act of shifting his gaze something caught his attention. He looked up, thought he’d imagined it, and then spotted it again. Dax’s eyes were used to the far reaches, and he tracked the slow, lazy circling bird easily once he had it. He stared for a moment, uncertain. It was far away, and high, and hard to tell. But then the bird banked, slipped toward them, and the distinctive tail shape snapped into focus.

  “Dare,” he breathed, barely above a whisper although the bird was far too high to be concerned about them. Not that the regal creature would deign to notice their presence anyway.

  Dare turned his head. “What?”

  “Look. To the west. Seventy-five degrees above the horizon. Circling.”

  It took him a moment, but Dax felt the moment when he spotted it, saw the jolt go through him.

  “A kingbird,” Dare whispered. He watched for a moment, in clearly stunned silence. “I thought they were gone.”

  “We all did.”

  The big, majestic bird with the striking black and white coloring and V-shaped tail continued his circling, his massive wingspread catching every bit of breeze at that altitude. Dax felt his throat tighten at the sight. So much had been lost, so much damage done, and yet here it was, this magnificent creature that was a symbol of Trios, a symbol thought lost to her forever.

  In that way he had of sensing things of import, Lyon abandoned their game of trying to name the mountains they could see from here and came back to them. Inseparable as always, Shaina followed; for all her being the one to usually lead them into mischief, it was as if she sensed when Lyon led, it mattered.

  “What is it?” Lyon asked

  Dare gave the signal for quiet, something they had been taught to obey from near babyhood, with the strictness enforced by the knowledge that someday their lives could depend on it. He crouched down beside his son and pointed. Dax swung Shaina up on his shoulders—her preferred spot. It took the two children longer to find it, since they had only seen the bird in pictures, but when they did they were properly awed.

  “I thought the Coalition killed them all,” Shaina said.

  “They thought they killed all of us, too,” Lyon answered.

  The pride in his voice was unmistakable, and again Dax thought that this boy was going to make a great leader some day.

  “Indeed they did,” Dare said softly. “And yet here we are.”

  “And they are not,” Dax agreed.

  “Someday they won’t be anywhere,” Shaina said confidently.

  “If good people stand strong,” Dare said, watching the bird as it circled.

  It was edging ever closer, each loop overlapping slightly until it was nearly overhead. Suddenly it shifted, with the slightest adjustment of guiding feathers slipped downward. Since even a kingbird was a bit small to consider them a meal, no one flinched, merely stared. The bird had apparently decided they were not a threat, and slid on an eddy of breeze down to barely twenty feet above them. Its curved beak and formidable talons were clear now, as was the slight cock of its head as it looked at them.

  Dax found himself holding his breath. It was unusual for a kingbird to acknowledge earthbound creatures except for prey. Even the children seemed to realize the power of the moment and stayed silent, watching as the bird came ever closer.

  The bird made another pass, dropping lower. It flew toward them, with intent that seemed undeniable. The kingbird swooped so close Dax would swear he could feel the wind stirred by its mighty wings. At the last second it shifted again, this time shooting straight up in a move that seemed counter to the laws of objects in the air. Up it went, then, incredibly, it rolled and came back to nearly brush them again.

  And then it was soaring, surging upward, and Dax got the strangest feeling that he knew what the bird was feeling, the sheer joy of the power of its own flight. Up it went, climbing ever higher into the blue, spring sky, until it was merely a speck in the distance.

  “I think,” Dax said softly, “you’ve just been saluted, your highness.”

  Dare’s mouth quirked at that bit of whimsy. “He did seem to be telling us something, but I doubt that was it.”

  “He was telling us,” Lyon said solemnly, “that he’s still here. We thought he and all of them were gone, but they’re still here. Like we are. And always will be.”

  “I think he’s telling us Trios is coming back, and to keep fighting,” Shaina said rather militantly.

  For a moment the two men simply looked at these children they had produced. Then they looked at each other, each allowing a bit of the quiet awe they were feeling show.

  “I think,” Dax said after a moment, “you two are too smart for your own good.”

  Shaina grinned, while Lyon merely smiled with that way he had of making you think there was great wisdom in that young heart.

  “And I think,” Dare said as he looked into his son’s eyes, “that bodes very well for Trios.”

  They made the return trip down the mountain more hopeful than any of them had been for a long while.

  * * *

  “OUR QUEEN,” DAX said teasingly as he added the log Rina handed him to the fire on the hearth, �
��doesn’t mind somewhat rustic living here, since at home she is amid utter chaos.”

  “We do well enough,” Shaylah said. “The people need their homes restored first. Completion of the palace repairs can wait.”

  “You deserve better,” Dare said.

  “I am with you,” she answered simply. “There is nothing better.”

  She had the pleasure of seeing him stopped dead. He swallowed tightly, and she thought tonight might be interesting, here in this place so removed from the pressure and toll of his daily responsibilities. Especially after he’d told her of the wonder of seeing that symbol of Trios, the kingbird, today. Somehow, in a way someone not born here probably couldn’t quite understand, that discovery had heartened him greatly.

  “Well said,” Califa added softly, with a look at Dax that had him shifting a bit awkwardly, although he was smiling.

  “We are the luckiest of men, are we not, my friend?” Dare said, recovering.

  “Indeed.”

  Rina had withdrawn into the shadows to one side of the stone fireplace. She made no teasing remark about the love talk, as she once would have. Shaylah sighed, wishing she could ease the girl’s sadness.

  Silence drew out for a bit before Dax shifted his gaze from the fire on the hearth to Dare. “You’re sure about that Council Hall cornerstone?”

  “Yes. I want it to remain.”

  “I would have thought you would want all sign of the Coalition’s destruction of the capitol cleared away,” Califa said.

  “That was my first thought,” Dare agreed. “But we cannot forget the power and cruelty of the enemy. We can never tell ourselves they are not as evil as they are.”

  “So you want it as a reminder,” Dax said.

  “Yes. Almost everyone in Triotia passes that spot regularly. I want everyone to remember who we lost, and why.”

  “I see your—”

  Dax’s words broke off at a loud crash from upstairs. The four parents exchanged rueful, knowing glances.

  “I knew we should have sent them to bed,” Califa said.

  “Whose turn is it?” Dare asked.

  “Mine, I believe,” Shaylah said and got to her feet.

  “A little leniency, I think?” Dax suggested. “We are on a retreat.”

  “Agreed. I promise not to string up the little imps,” she said with a laugh.

  She found them where they had been for the last hour, in the small yet seemingly full attic of the lodge. Dare had said he wasn’t sure of all that was stored away in there, but was fairly certain there was nothing lethal. Breakable was another question, one she feared had just been answered with that crash.

  She negotiated the ladder to the attic quickly, calling out as soon as her shoulders were clear of the opening. “What are you two up to, or should I not ask?”

  “Nothing bad,” Shaina answered swiftly, her voice allowing Shaylah to place them in the far right corner.

  “Does that equal nothing broken?” she asked as she pulled herself up and to her feet.

  “Um ... not exactly.” The girl’s voice was less certain now.

  “It was my fault, Mother,” Lyon said as she approached. “I didn’t want her to fall climbing up there”—he gestured toward the rafters at what was apparently some kind of floating platform for the lake—”so I pulled over that chair for her to stand on.”

  Shaylah had to hold back a laugh. This was so typical, Shaina initiating the act that got them into trouble, and Lyon reasonably explaining their way out of it.

  Lyon went on with his calm explanation. “I didn’t realize the chair was holding up that box. That’s what made all the noise, when it fell. It was heavy.”

  “Who keeps a box of rocks, anyway?” Shaina muttered. She looked up at what had been her goal, clearly perturbed that her exploration had been curtailed.

  “Maybe these papers say,” Lyon said, digging into the items—mostly rocks, as Shaina had observed—that had spilled out of the small wooden box. “No, they’re just some strange drawings, like Paraclon’s diagrams only on old paper,” he said after a moment, in obvious disappointment. He went back to slowly gathering up the rocks.

  “If you want to inspect those, gather them up for in the morning. It’s time for you two rascals to get some rest.”

  The usual complaints came, especially fervent tonight given that they had to return home tomorrow.

  “We don’t have to leave until afternoon, so you’ll have all morning. Unless you get confined to quarters, of course.”

  With mutual sighs they gave in. Shaina put the chair back out of the way as Lyon picked up the box. She had the feeling he would be inspecting those rocks yet tonight, in the bunk room they were sharing, but since she knew it took a while for his ever agile mind to slow down after an exciting day, that seemed as good a way as any.

  “Tucked in, although I’d wager they’ll not be sleeping for a bit,” Shaylah said when she was back downstairs and settled happily in Wolf’s arms before the fire. She found herself thinking of him as Wolf again here, away from it all. She didn’t think he’d mind. She called him that in their most intimate moments, and it only fired him to further heights of passion.

  “What broke?” Califa asked resignedly.

  Shaylah laughed. Even Rina chuckled. “Nothing, actually. They knocked over a box of rocks someone collected.”

  “Rocks?” Dax asked.

  “Yes.” She held out the folded papers to Dare. “These were in with them. I think I recognize the hand.”

  Dare took them, looked at the first one, then let out a quiet breath. “Yes. My father. He was always foraging about up here and making notes. He seemed to like doing it the old way, with scriber and paper.”

  No one spoke. Likely, Shaylah thought, because no one could think of what to say about the king who had been so brutally slain as an example to the people of Trios who had refused to accept that they had been conquered by the Coalition.

  “I will look at them tomorrow,” Dare said after a moment, setting them aside. “Not tonight.”

  Shaylah sighed inwardly in relief. He truly had gotten into the spirit of this, setting aside all cares for this short interlude of peace.

  There was a burst of laughter from upstairs. Rina got up. “I’ll go say goodnight. Perhaps I can get them to settle.”

  When quiet finally reigned from the children’s room, Dax made a rather obviously manufactured excuse and took his clearly willing mate up to the room they were to share. They stopped to look in on the children, Dax leaned back to give Dare an all clear signal, then the pair vanished.

  “I believe,” Dare said with a barely suppressed laugh, “my Defense Minister has designs on that woman.”

  “I think it is the flashbow warrior Califa will be dealing with tonight,” Shaylah said with a smile, leaning against him in pure contentment.

  Dare slipped his arms around her, drawing her closer. “This trip was a very, very good idea, my love.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I had not realized how much it was needed.”

  “And when would you have time to?”

  “I have much more time than I would have if my stalwart queen was not by my side.”

  “As she always will be, my king.”

  He lowered her head, pressed a kiss to her ear. “Tonight,” he suggested huskily, “I would prefer to simply be your Wolf.”

  “Oh, you are always my Wolf,” she whispered back, and turned to press her lips to his.

  * * *

  “WHAT WAS HE working on?”

  Dax spoke quietly. The subject of Dare’s father was always painful. He had grown up knowing what a good and noble man he was, and his ugly, brutal death and desecration was a painful memory for all Triotians. For Dax the pain and loss was more than that of most Triotians. The royal house of Trios and the Silverbrakes had long been aligned, and the man had been like a second father to him. They had become even closer when he’d become the next flashbow warrior.

  And th
at brought him to the guilt. If he hadn’t been gone—

  Stop it. You did what you thought you had to at the time.

  He almost smiled as Califa’s oft spoken words echoed in his head. And she was right. Guilt was a useless emotion, unless it drove you to make changes. And his certainly had.

  “It appears to be in two parts,” Dare said, looking at the drawings spread out across the table. “One some sort of extractor, the other a power converter. But I can’t tell what it’s converting.”