Silverlight

by Jesberger, S. L.

  I had nothing to say to that. I’d thought she was dead, so having her by my side now was a gift.

  “I suppose I shouldn’t think of it as a loss. Maybe I’m the person I’m supposed to be because of what I’ve gone through,” she mumbled.

  I nodded. “It’s a happier thought, at least.”

  “I want to kill Garai, but perhaps I shouldn’t.”

  “Why is that?”

  Kymber gave me the first smile I’d seen in two days. “Do you remember your geography, Mr. Tyrix?”

  “Not so much of it anymore. Why?”

  “Pentorus sits between Calari and the Shadowlands. Do you remember when I told you Garai was attacked by Munlo goblins?”

  “Vaguely.” I furrowed my brow. So much had happened, I barely remembered my own name.

  “I told you I set the door to my room on fire after they attacked. If I have anyone to thank for my escape, it’s those blessed goblins and that unexpected battle they started.”

  “What does this have to do with killing Garai?”

  “He shouldn’t be underestimated. I’m still not sure who won that battle.” She sighed. “I’ll kill him if I have to. I’ll no doubt want to. I’m just afraid removing him from the border will put Calari at risk.”

  “Hmm.” It was a possibility I hadn’t considered. Kymber was right. The rest of Calari gave that corner of the land wide sway.

  “I trust I’ll know what to do when the time comes,” she said after a long period of silence. “I don’t want to solve one problem and create another.”

  “Agreed.” I reined Fitz to a halt. “Hungry?”

  “Very.” Kymber stopped and dismounted.

  “We’re about a half day’s ride away from Jalartha.” I slid down and opened my saddlebag. “We’ll eat here then push to get there before nightfall.”

  “You’ll hand over everything you have in them saddlebags,” a strident voice demanded behind us.

  Three young men stepped out from the edge of the forest. They carried short swords and large knives.

  Kymber gave the men a cursory glance. “Hold these.” She threw Lady Gray’s reins at me.

  I caught them and whispered, “Oh, dear.”

  “Don’t you think you’ve stolen enough from me?” Hands on her hips, Kymber faced our assailants.

  I recognized them then. The men who were going to kill Kymber for a witch. What was left of them, anyway. Evidently, they had not taken a lesson from the experience.

  The largest man tipped his head and studied her. “Have no idea who you are, bitch, but I’d sure like to get you on your back.” He nudged the man next to him and smirked. “How about it, Bosh? Maybe we’ll take a little taste before we kill them, eh?”

  “Yeah.” The man actually had the audacity to lick his lips and leer. I cringed. Kymber would make them pay for every crude remark they made.

  “What? You don’t recognize me?” She held her right hand up for them to see.

  Three sets of eyes narrowed then widened. “You’re that filthy cunt who lived in the cave. And you.” Bosh looked at me. “You’re the one who killed Cort right in front of us.”

  “That’s right,” I said cheerfully. “See, he does know us, Kymber.”

  “Leave now and nothing will be said.” Kymber firmed up her stance and flexed her hands. “It’s the only chance I’ll give you.”

  “I’d take it, if I were you,” I said in an even tone. None of these unfortunate souls knew what was coming if they didn’t.

  “Ain’t none of us runnin’ from the likes of you. Sorceress twat. Hand over them saddlebags and put your hands in the air. Both of you.” Bosh gestured with the rusty knife he carried.

  “Well, then.” Kymber smiled coldly. “I’ll give you two words to ponder while I count to three. No, I’ll count to five, because you seem a little slow.”

  “Fucking arrogant bitch,” Bosh snarled.

  “Two words. Here they are: ‘Bad. Choices.’ Ready?” She began to fold her fingers with the count. “One . . . two . . . three . . .”

  They rushed her before she got to four.

  Promise was a silver shadow as she jerked it from the sheath across her back. She did not waste the motion, swinging at an angle, catching Bosh across the throat and severing part of his jaw. Still blinking, he dropped like a stone at her feet, blood pouring from the gaping wound.

  The remaining thieves skidded to a halt and stared.

  “I told you.” I couldn’t help gloating.

  “Let’s try this again, shall we?” She stalked forward like a cat in the night. “My name is Kymber Oryx. I am not dead. I am not buried in Marilian. I am as good with a sword as I ever was. If I ever see you again, I’ll gut you like fish and hang you on the gates outside Jalartha as a lesson for those tempted to prey on others. Understood?”

  They both turned and sprinted off, not even bothering with the body of their friend.

  She looked at me, ire still evident on her face. “Well?”

  “You’ve convinced me.” I lifted my hands into the air. “I have completely given up my plans to lead a life of crime.”

  She wiped her bloody blade in the grass and laughed.

  My sister Karia’s house was full to bursting with children and grandchildren, so we stayed with my niece Tika in Jalartha that night, preparing ourselves mentally and physically for the trip to Pentorus.

  “They’re all very nice,” Kymber said as we prepared for bed. “I’m sorry to hear that Tika’s husband died. It must be difficult to raise sons without a man in the house.”

  “Did you ever meet my sister Neeta?” I asked.

  “Once, I think. And not for long.”

  “Neeta would have made an excellent warrior. She was the epitome of strength. Tika is exactly the same.”

  “She’ll need it, though her four boys are well behaved. She’ll find another husband before long.”

  “I don’t think she cares one way or the other. Brahan wasn’t kind to her. She stayed because of the boys.” I shrugged. “She told me she likes her freedom.”

  “Good for her.” Kymber sat on the edge of the bed and loosened the braid in her hair. “I wonder what he’d look like.”

  “Who?”

  “Our son.” She turned with half a smile. “If we were ever to have one.”

  I turned my side of the bed down. “I’ve always wondered about our daughter.”

  “Have you? Really? Doesn’t every man want a son?”

  “I can’t speak for every man, but it wouldn’t matter to me. As long as you were their mother.”

  “I love you, Magnus.” She gave me an appraising look. “Perhaps someday we’ll be lucky enough to have a child of our own.”

  “I’d like that, but if we don’t, I’ll still be a happy man if we can grow old together.”

  She nodded. “I’d like to go to T’hath tomorrow morning before we head to Pentorus.”

  “Changed your mind?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get in and tell me why.” I climbed into bed and patted the empty space beside me.

  She didn’t move for a moment. “There’s no reason not to visit T’hath. Tariq is dead. I’m not quite so fearful of Garai. I want to see my brothers.” She slipped under the covers and rolled against me. “I have to know if Portis was in league with Tariq.”

  “What if he was?”

  “I don’t know.” She gave me a thoughtful look. “I should kill him if he admits guilt. There’s no cause to betray anyone into a situation like that, let alone family, but he’s my brother. Will I be able to draw a sword on him?”

  “Only you can answer that, love.” I held her close. “But I’ll accompany you to T’hath if that’s where you want to go.”

  She snuggled into the crook of my arm. “I wish life had stayed simple. I wish I didn’t have to do these things.”

  “Was fighting and killing a simple life?”

  “No, but it was a different kind of complicated. I trusted everyone then
. I trusted too much. It was so easy for them to take me away from everything I loved. Ridiculously easy.” Kymber sighed; her breath was warm against my shoulder. “How many other captive women are out there?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sure there’s a few.”

  “I want to find them.” Kymber went so still I could feel her heart beating against me. “I want to save them.”

  39: KYMBER

  At least fifty majestic oak trees had once lined both sides of the winding road up to the T’hath Academy of Blade and Bow. Bendil Monix, once the largest man at the academy, could not fully put his arms around any of their rough trunks.

  My child’s imagination had viewed them as soldiers standing watch over my home, keeping us all safe, their gnarled limbs prepared to knock an enemy from his horse or sweep him off his feet.

  Most of them were dead now. Storms and time had either toppled them or broken them in half. No one had bothered to clean up the debris or plant new trees. My father would’ve been heartbroken. What was once a stately row of trees now resembled a graveyard of fallen warriors.

  I hoped it was not an omen.

  Magnus broke the silence. “This is awful.”

  “It is that. I can’t believe Juncor didn’t clean up this mess. He was a better gardener than he was a swordsman.”

  My brothers Portis, Juncor, and Daxal were grown by the time I was left on the Oryx’s doorstep. I remembered them as good men and passable fighters, though they were often aloof and reserved with me. No surprise there, as I was much younger. Still, they’d been a presence in my life. Daxal was the one who’d taught me to fight with a blade in each hand.

  I turned my thoughts from my brothers and looked over the rest of the T’hath grounds. The lawn was unkempt. Weeds grew up around the fence that surrounded the training yards. There were four or five young boys in the yard, fighting with wooden swords, but otherwise the place looked and felt abandoned.

  A chill wind blew my hair across my eyes as we started up the curving rise that led to the house where I’d lived. It felt like a warning, but I couldn’t turn back. Not now.

  Magnus snorted behind me. “Looks like someone found the wine cellar.”

  A dark lump surrounded by empty brown wine bottles lay in the road ahead. It looked like Daxal. He wasn’t dead. I could see his shoulders rise and fall with each breath he took.

  I dismounted and walked to him, unable to shake the feeling that my life would be different when I traveled back down this road.

  I pushed on his shoulder. “Daxal. Wake up. Are you ill or drunk?”

  “Drunk!” Daxal shouted, then issued forth with the creepiest laugh. Drool spilled from his lips and pooled on the ground beneath his cheek. “Go away, whoever you are.”

  Magnus came up behind me, his hand on his sword. “Was he out here all night?”

  “Probably. His clothing is damp from morning dew. He smells terrible, like piss and merlot.”

  Magnus wrinkled his nose.

  None of my brothers drank to excess. At least not when I’d lived here, but so much time had passed. People changed, and sometimes not for the better. I knelt and rolled my brother onto his back. “Daxal, it’s Kymber. I’ve come home.”

  Daxal grimaced and shook his head. Saliva flew everywhere. “Bad, bad dream.” He kept trying to focus bleary eyes on me but he couldn’t keep them open. “Kymber is dead. A long time.”

  “I’m not dead. Will you get up? I’d like to talk to you.”

  I heard the front door of the house open and slam. I looked up to see Portis standing in the middle of the walkway, pale as snow.

  I slowly rose to my full height. The years had not been kind to him. Portis had never been conventionally handsome, with his long, narrow face and aquiline nose. Now he was nearly unrecognizable. The lines and folds of his skin put me in mind of the sunbaked shepherds that came down out of the Tural Mountains just before winter. His eyes looked like dull brown stones set into old leather.

  I don’t think he recognized me at first, but then his eyes widened. His lips parted slightly on a question then pressed into a thin angry line.

  I moved my shoulders to confirm that Promise was still strapped across my back.

  “Portis.” I acknowledged him with a nod.

  “Kymber?” He tensed and took a step back – preparing to run, I thought. Though he didn’t appear to have a weapon, I watched him assume a defensive stance.

  His body language spoke of guilt with no remorse, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. “It’s me. Kymber. How are you?”

  He blinked slowly, like an owl. “What do you want?”

  “I’ve come home to see you.”

  He didn’t move. I didn’t move. Magnus was practically panting behind me.

  “May I come in?” I pointed toward the house.

  Portis’s eyes flicked to Magnus then back to me. “For what purpose?”

  “Do I need a reason? I was raised here. I trained here.”

  Portis shook his head, as though he didn’t understand what I’d said.

  “I know everyone thinks I’m dead and buried on the battlefield of Marilian. Clearly, I’m not.” I couldn’t force a smile, though I tried.

  He shifted his gaze between Magnus, Daxal, and me. I made the decision to play dumb and felt cold all over. “Are Mother and Father well? May I see them?” I pointed at Daxal. “Should we take our brother home first?”

  “Mother and Father are fine. He can sober up and take himself home.”

  Portis was a damned liar. It felt like a fist in my gut.

  “Maybe you don’t care to see me, but I have a right to see our parents.” I took several brisk steps forward and stopped. Magnus was right behind me. “It must have killed them to think I was dead. Stand aside. I’m going in to see them.”

  Portis’s cheeks went from pale to port wine. “You are not. You’re not welcome here.”

  “Why? What have I done?”

  “I don’t have to explain anything to you. Get off this property and take him with you.” My brother waved at Magnus.

  I inhaled, snatched Promise from her scabbard, and chased the deceitful bastard into the house.

  40: MAGNUS

  Sweet goddess, she was angry. Kymber unsheathed her sword and headed straight for her brother.

  Portis slipped in the loose stones, righted himself, and flew like a harrier hawk toward the safety of the house. He slammed the front door in her face; she buried Promise at least an inch deep in the wood as it closed.

  “I’m going to count to five, Portis. If the door is not open by that time, it’s coming down.” Kymber took short, agitated steps back and forth on the wrap-around porch. “One!”

  I put my right foot up on the steps and retied my boot as tightly as I could. Portis wasn’t about to open the door, not when she’d drawn her weapon. I wouldn’t have either. She was as furious as I’d ever seen her, that day by the fountain notwithstanding.

  We would no doubt have to kick the door down.

  “Two!”

  There was no response from inside. If he wasn’t in there searching for a way to escape his murderous sister, he was a damned fool. Then again, I’d never thought much of Portis. He was a lazy, whining slug, but I kept my thoughts to myself for Kymber’s sake. She’d loved them all at one time.

  “Three!” Cheeks flushed with righteous anger, Kymber gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and glared at the door.

  “Portis, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll open the damned door,” I called out.

  Kymber’s nostrils flared. “Four!” She punctuated the count by slamming Promise into the wood again.

  I moved up on the porch beside her. “We’ll go on your word,” I said. She nodded.

  I was surprised when the door opened. Portis stood in the doorway clutching a young girl by the hand. She couldn’t have been more than ten. Blond hair, sweet face, big brown eyes. He was hiding behind a child.

  “Will you kill
me in front of my daughter?” Portis lifted his chin in defiance.

  “Why would you say that? Do I have a reason to kill you?” Kymber mirrored his movement. “You have the look of a cornered animal. A guilty animal. Have you done something unforgivable?”

  I watched him carefully. She was right – he was hiding something. He certainly didn’t look or act like a brother coming face to face with a long lost sister.

  Kymber stormed through the door and pursued Portis and the girl, stalking them until the stone fireplace in the sitting room brought them up short. I followed behind, but I’d made up my mind not to get involved unless she asked. This was her fight.

  “Why did you do that to me?” Kymber kept wary eyes on her brother but spoke in a calm, even tone. I knew she wouldn’t want to scare the child.

  “It . . . I . . . it was a better option than having you killed.”

  “Selling me to Garai was better than having me killed?” Kymber shook her left fist at her brother. “Do you have any idea what I went through?”

  Portis grimaced. “You weren’t supposed to go to Garai. You were supposed to go –”

  “Does it matter?” She took a breath. “Why? Why did you do it?”

  He stared at her for a long moment then licked his lips. “I inadvertently found Father’s Last Will and Testament one day. He left T’hath to you and Magnus.” He averted his eyes but kept the belligerent tone. “Not to his three blood sons, mind you. He left the academy to the unwanted waif he found on his doorstep and the man who was fucking her.”

  Kymber hissed loudly. “Were Daxal and Juncor in on it?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Just Tariq and me. The fewer who knew what we’d done, the better.”

  “What was Tariq’s problem?”

  “Jealousy. He was tired of being bested by a woman.”

  “Is that right?” I could hear the incredulous weariness in her voice. Though most of the T’hath students had respected her, she’d fought this battle all her life.

  Portis shrugged.

  “Let me see if I understand.” Kymber pressed two fingers to her forehead. “I suffered because you wanted T’hath for yourself. Because Tariq was envious of me.” She glared at him. “I wish I lived in a world where that made sense.”