by Susi Wright
Staring at the closed door for long moments, with her mental cloak firmly in place, Espira's thoughts were secretly rebellious. Even now, I am able to conceal anything I wish from Papa! Her eyes sparked with excitement. But, what does it mean?
*
“Do not worry so, my love. Be still and listen to me! I am fully recovered!” Luminor shadowed his pacing wife, who naturally had not taken at all kindly to the news of another perilous quest. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She had protested passionately that she had only just nursed him back to health from a most debilitating illness. “It is foolishness to take this on so soon!” She cried harder.
Certainly so far, the evening had not passed happily for any member of this family. Espira and Ardientor had been sent to bed too early, after trying to argue that, as well-developed and highly-trained hybrids, they were old enough to accompany their father on the quest. Although Luminor had dealt with his children, the continuing conversation between husband and wife was equally difficult.
“Yes – I swear, I am stronger than an ox!” Luminor stood tall and broad-shouldered, apparently hale and healthy. As usual, without effort, his presence was imposing. It seemed not to matter that he had lost a little weight in recent months while battling this bout of illness.
“Are you . . . really? Because, I know you would say you were, even if you weren't!” she snapped.
Luminor gave a short laugh, feigning injured pride. “Shame on you, my love – you know I never lie!”
“It is not what is said, it is what is not said! You have a sneaky way of making people believe all is well. You always have, even when you are not using mind-magic!” Fralii stopped pacing and looked into his eyes searchingly, wishing she had more than human perception. The unhappy frown still shadowed her eyes.
Luminor returned her gaze, opening his eyes wider into an unblinking stare, while the corners of his mouth quirked up. “Well, my love, it is quite obvious I am not doing anything now . . . just look at the sulky mood you are in!” He smiled affectionately at her. “I can see where the children get it!”
“Ooh! That is unfair!” Fralii pouted and stamped her foot, reminding him vividly of all the violent tantrums they had endured from both their children. Luminor stared pointedly at his wife's foot then into her eyes, thinking how beautiful she still was. In any mood!
She huffed, embarrassed but stubborn, “So, you never sulked . . . in your entire life!”
“In truth, I believe not!” he smiled with a hint of conceit. There were only few occasions where he could remember having really negative emotion, apart from natural sadness. One such time was the guilt he suffered for deceiving his father to rescue Fralii. His greatest anguish had been separation from her. In all his youthful dreams to change the Gaian way of life, he had not borne resentment. Even fear had always been fleeting for him. He did not remember actually sulking, even as a boy. “Ask my mother!” he challenged, still grinning.
“Even you are not that perfect!” Fralii kept her frown in place, even though her eyes had softened from a glare to something more affectionate and it was an appeal for the unadorned truth.
Luminor's gaze took on a gleam of unmistakeable desire. “Aah, but I am good . . .” he advanced on his soulmate with familiar ease, his intent to embrace and cajole. “Am I not? I can prove how well I am . . .” Raising his eyebrows, he reached out to stroke her face, smiling into her eyes. She slapped his hand away, a token gesture only. “Do not dare to tinker with my mind, husband!”
He drew her into his arms, gentle but insistent, and she did not resist but there was reproach in her eyes. The ardent mischief had not left his face. His affection naturally charmed and warmed her. She could never be angry with him for long.
Luminor would never coerce her emotions, having long ago fore-sworn mental interference where she was concerned. Between them there was still implicit trust. They were two parts of one soul.
“My sweet Fralii, if you want the bare truth, of course I will give it! I have told you that the Morvians are in need of our help. I understand your reservations, my love. But I must tell you that I also have deep concerns. If we do not intervene, their war will eventually find its way here and we will all be in danger. Our own children will face those horrors! I am recovered for now. The war effort needs my power while I am still able to wield it. Now is that time.”
Fralii's expression became serious again and she sighed as new tears welled. “I see it . . . but, Lumi, it doesn't stop me from worrying!”
He drew her into his embrace. “Worry changes nothing, we both know this!”
“I know. I trust your decisions but – ,” She glanced down and ran her fingers lightly over the scar on his torso, noticing how the evidence of his illness had faded considerably. She looked up into his eyes and tried to smile.
He leaned in to place a kiss upon her neck and chuckled. “Aah, my sweet wife, at his moment, I do feel very good indeed! Please, let me show you how good . . .”
Fralii's mood softened, anger forgotten, quests left for tomorrow. The Link was still as strong as ever and it beckoned them now, to the joyous delights of their love.
Chapter 4 : OVER THE HILLS. . .AND FAR AWAY.
Preparations for departure had been swift.
Any delay would mean the lives of countless Morvians. Before noon the following day, Luminor and Commander Stolis were inspecting the progress.
“Many of these young soldiers are well-trained, but have never yet seen battle,” remarked Stolis. “They are all strong and brave, as are our Gaian warriors. There are volunteers from the surrounding countryside. They are young, but skilled with the sword and fiercely loyal to the cause!”
Only those who passed Stolis' rigorous testing during that day were accepted. They were suitably armed, armoured and allocated a mount. To be considered at all, human volunteers were required to have experience in samblar riding, as this would be the only mode of travel fast enough for Stolis' human forces. Gaian warriors, naturally, would use air-cloaks. And, sworn to protect them all, was Lord Luminor!
Stolis turned away from the pressing group of hopeful volunteers. “It is a shame we put so many to other employment these last years, but I think we have enough recruits now.”
“I believe we must consider the next man, then stop,” said Luminor with conviction. Stolis nodded his agreement and Luminor turned back to meet the earnest gaze of his nephew.
Ji held the lead rein of his mount, a magnificent black. Luminor was not surprised. He had sensed the young man's arrival through the city gates an hour ago. “You are brave and true. And a man grown now!”
Luminor smiled. “Has it been more than six months since I last saw you?” The position of Governor placed increasing demands on his time. There had not been a large family reunion for longer than that.
He glanced behind Ji, to a boy who held a string of six impressive mounts, all eminently suitable for such an arduous mission. “And, you obviously have your father's blessing. Those samblars are much appreciated! We lost a dozen precious animals on the last mission. I must send a message of thanks to him without delay. Naturally, as your uncle, I want to say this is too dangerous . . .” He smiled ruefully as he regarded his nephew. “But I doubt that would make a difference, would it?”
Luminor sensed something a little reckless in Ji's emotion, a passionate desire to prove himself, but considered it no more unusual than any young man's aspiration. Some recklessness was a necessary trait for any act of courage.
Ji looked away, not with second thoughts about the quest, but suddenly uncertain in the presence of his powerful uncle. A heartbeat later, an unexpected surge of strength and encouragement urged him to meet Luminor's eyes. “No, Uncle – I mean – my lord. I am decided!”
“You understand that you must pass the Commander's test, just as everyone else? If you do, I shall have no objection. I have no desire nor need to forbid you,” stated Luminor quietly, recognising the strength of Ji's conviction.
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br /> Then, raising his voice, Luminor addressed the crowd of volunteers behind Ji and the boy with the samblars. “Regretfully, we can accept no more enlistments today! We need good men to be prepared and vigilant here in Baram. Be ready, in case you are called upon to protect your homeland! Go now, and keep up your training.” Although some were bitterly disappointed, others were less so. They all complied, dispersing quietly to return to their homes until they were called.
Luminor smiled at Ji, gesturing to the combat yard nearby, and Ji mounted quickly, nodded to his uncle and cantered over to take the test.
Espira watched the bustle in the square below, from the balcony of her grandmother's villa. She gazed longingly. How she wished to be part of it! Instead, she would have to be content protecting Ji, while he was in the Capital, blatantly thinking of proving himself to her, right in front of her father!
Her eyes followed Ji's movement, from speaking to Luminor, all the way across the square to the combat yard. He would pass with flying colours. She was relieved that her father had not seen through the mask she created for her amorous cousin. But she worried about them both, the peril they would face.
At least, there were many talented Gaian warriors in that company. With Luminor, they could protect Ji and the other humans in battle. Once her father's inevitable edict took effect, when the army marched at dawn, she would be prevented from trying to protect either of them.
He is strong now, but for how long ? She worried constantly about his bouts of weakness, hated being separated from him. Last time he fell in battle, her unprecedented astral search resulted in her suffering a seizure. She had helped him all the same – with Serafina's assistance! Now she was older, her mental strength had improved more than anyone guessed.
Nevertheless, so far away, beyond the Impossible Mountains, was further than she had ever practised Projection. She had no idea of her range now. But, if her father ever needed her again, the edict would falter – she would know that. Then nothing would stop her from reaching out.
At least she would try to aid him, one way or another.
As on countless previous occasions, she recalled when she had laid eyes on the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, Luminor's little dragon. If the animal had not helped then, her father might have died and the Alliance would have fallen to the reign of a tyrant.
Espira now understood that during these years of peace and freedom such a creature was unnecessary. It was never meant to be a mere ornament, nor a pet! Nevertheless, she still believed, as sure as the sun and stars, that one day the dragon would be hers. Not for the first time, Espira wondered whether she would ever possess the power to summon it.
If there was ever a good time, why is this quest not it? Certainly, with his dragon beside him once more, Luminor would have all the protection he needed. But there had been so little time to prepare for this mission with her father's latest bout of illness laying him low until three days ago. Besides, she had enough respect to admit that, as Supreme Lord, he had wisdom beyond hers. She smiled tightly. There would certainly be much time to meditate on that during her forced stay in the Capital.
Most importantly, her intention to intervene had to remain hidden from her father, and from Ardientor, for his own protection. She smiled to herself. Of those things, she was certainly capable.
*
“Brother, you know that I am happy to stand in once more for you as Governor, in your absence. But, are you sure that you are up to it?” Altor smiled at Luminor, knowing the question was pointless, but he had posed it more as a challenge. When they were alone together, all formality was dropped and he could not resist an opportunity to tease his elder sibling. “Do not forget . . . I am one of the few people to see you a mere fortnight ago, bed-ridden and so weak you had to piss in a bucket!” He chuckled. “By the Stars, that was a sight to remember! Good luck for you, that I was there to fetch the bucket, eh?” His mouth turned down exaggerated distaste. “And I might add . . . to empty it!”
Luminor quipped defensively, “Fralii never complains!”
“Well . . . I am not married to you, am I?” laughed Altor, suddenly clapping Luminor on the shoulder so hard it knocked him forwards, to show he did not believe him fully recovered. Luminor sprang back from the stumble, aware his reaction time was unusually slow, staring at Altor's arrogant knowing grin.
Luminor's expression was serious for a long moment, but a slow smile crept in. “Well, brother, after all these years of utter backwardness . . . I do believe your Perception is improving.” Smiling widely, he employed his mental shield, impenetrable once more and holding the usual threat, the ability to project and intrude. “But it seems . . . only when I allow it!” His confident grin was brief, replaced by a grave expression which said, What you have seen in me . . . keep it to yourself!
*
The evening firelight from the hearth added a poignant note to the evening, as Fralii sat alone, waiting for Luminor to return home after preparations for the dawn departure. Tonight, it did nothing to warm the cold dread that had returned to her mood. It was pure human fear, not a premonition, but very real to her. Luminor had kept his promise not to interfere with it. She almost wanted to suffer its agony; it reminded her how much she loved him. And she had promised, she would not cry again about him leaving. For one thing she was glad – this time she would have the security of an edict over their teenage children to keep them from the danger of mischief.
She jumped, hearing the door latch. Rushing to greet Luminor, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him as if he had been gone for days instead of hours. He returned her embrace affectionately, but could not prevent the tired sigh that escaped his lips. It had been a long day, now well after midnight, with so few hours until they set off on the long journey to the Impossible Mountains and the war-torn land beyond.
A couple of hours of sleep would set him right. They had agreed he would leave before dawn, without fuss. Arm-in-arm, they retired for the night, both inevitably sad but acquiescent about another separation. Resolving to sleep as best they could, they lay down in each others precious embrace till then.
*
Espira huffed with exasperation. The stone that had just hit her chamber window was foolish and unnecessary. She knew Ji was out there in the garden, had known he was heading this way, ever since he left the barracks. She had him covered with her shield, but she could not hide the noise of the stupid pebble, so she quickly knocked over an ornament on her dresser and cursed loudly for effect, hoping to disguise it.
Ji's romantic notion, deluded and misguided as it was, went beyond a joke now. Why does it disturb me so?
Feeling more irritated than ever, she opened the casement window and poked her head out to glare at him. His white, hopeful smile shone out in the darkness, as he stood under the trees, fifty paces from the villa. His hands were clasped in a pleading gesture, which she saw as nothing short of ridiculous.
Certain he would not leave without their private farewell, she capitulated, climbing over the sill and hurried to his hiding spot. Best friends or not, she grabbed his arm, almost spitefully, and ushered him far down the garden so their whispered exchange could not heard by even the sharpest ears.
She rounded on him angrily. “Why did you come? I would have waved you off tomorrow with Papa and all the others!”
“Essie, I had to see you,” he paused, worrying at his lip, “it's just that . . . well . . . I might die!” He looked pleadingly into her eyes, savouring their beauty.
Espira was taken aback by the desperate intent she saw there, as he lurched forward and kissed her on the lips with a formidable amount of passion. She reacted instantly by slapping him in the face.
He fell back, regretting it as he knew he would. He had probably spoiled everything now, on the eve of their parting! He cursed, using a human word that only men and soldiers knew; rubbing his cheek, he took to studying his boots.
Espira struggled to contain her whirling emotions and keep all th
is hidden from her percipient father and heaven-knew-who-else!
Ji's whispered words were almost inaudible, even to Espira standing so close to him. “I know I am not worthy . . . perhaps if I return a hero . . . things can be different.”
His dejected mood was not lost on her. Compassion and her natural affection, after all the years of their friendship, softened her anger. Unwilling to let him leave on a quest in such a downcast mood, she touched him gently on the arm exerting a little calm assurance. “Dear Ji, it's best not to think those things – just be safe!” she said simply.
His eyes, still with his heart in them, met hers; he was grateful for what little she would give for the moment. He bowed and left quickly over the back wall of the garden, where he leapt onto his samblar.
Staring after him until he was out of sight, Espira was glad she only had a few more hours to hide the turmoil of their exchange. Thank the Ancestors! Once the quest was under way, everyone would be focussed on other things.
As Ji rode down the winding lane to the city, warmed by Espira's compassion, he kept that assurance close to his heart, as if it was a promise. It would sustain him in the gruelling months to come, a beacon to lead him home. A hero, even a human one, might be worthy of her love.
*
Before the sun was up, the company of hundreds was ready to march or fly. The sky was clear, promising a fine day ahead. Luminor gave the signal to move out; human and Morvian riders urged their mounts to a fast trot and Gaian warriors took to the air.
Espira and Ardientor stood with their mother and grandmother, looking out from Aleana's balcony, having said their farewells earlier. The mood was subdued. There were no tears or words now; the next few weeks held only prayers and waiting. As their eyes followed their father's flight, leading the Gaian formation westwards out of the Capital, the siblings sidled closer to each other, apprehensive, awaiting the effect of an edict which they knew would settle on them when Luminor left the city walls.