by Megg Jensen
Vron could almost swear the page's tusks were trembling. Orcs allowed humans access to their city, but there was a great undercurrent of mistrust.
"Send him in." Vron carefully placed the limbs in a trunk. It wouldn't do to have the visitor see them, though they had belonged to a murderer sentenced to death. Vron had asked to be the one to deliver him to Drothu using his experimental weapon.
"It's not a him," answered a soft, tender voice Vron had never forgotten, though it had been years since he'd heard it.
Vron spun around, dropping one of the legs on the ground. Alyna. He took in her disguise. He could still tell she was a faun, not human, at least not a full human, though she'd taken great care to hide the fact.
His arms hung at his sides, his hands in fists. Vron wasn't sure whether to hug her or shake her. The last time they'd been together, she'd taken off in the middle of the night, leaving him naked in his bed. He hadn't heard from her again. Until now.
"I have to speak with you about a matter of great import." Her curt tone told him she wasn't here to rekindle their short romance. Alyna swept into the tent, the flap dropping quietly behind her.
"What is it?" Vron held out a hand.
She placed her hand in his. "I'm sorry. I traveled all of yesterday and last night and all of this day to reach you. I didn't know where else to go." Alyna rested, weary, in his arms.
Vron held her tightly to his chest, trying desperately to focus on her words and not the curves of her body. He’d known her casually throughout the years, but the memory of their one night together had never faded.
"Do you want to come back to my home and rest a bit before telling me?" Vron resisted kissing the top of her red curls.
Alyna looked up at him, her eyes as green as grass after a lightning storm. "No. I need to tell you now." She straightened up, backing a step away from him. "I assume you know about Hugh's death?"
"Of course." Agitar had spoken of nothing else in recent days. Many were pleased with his demise. The assassins guild had struck again, disposing of someone who didn't agree with the crown. The human priest's teachings weren't against the law in Agitar, but they also weren't appreciated. Different gods ruled the North. The god of the South wasn’t welcome in Agitar. "Are they upset in the South? Are they coming for us?" Vron's deep belly laugh filled the tent.
"They are amassing their armies for an invasion. I couldn't let you be taken unawares." Alyna gazed up at him again, those damn green eyes sparkling, even in the diffuse light of the tent. "I hold no loyalty to the North, nor to the South. But I couldn't stomach the thought of an ambush."
"They can't ambush us," Vron said. "The Barrier Mountains separate us from the South. We have guards at every pass, as you well know. If they sailed around to the west, our guards would see them from the battlements. The South cannot take us unawares, nor can they win if they attack us. Hugh's death will send them into a frenzy, but it's unlikely to affect us in any way. The orcs of Agitar will go about their lives, only a few ever knowing, or caring, that the South rattled their swords at us."
Vron hated minimizing Alyna's worries. If she'd come all this way to warn him, she truly believed the words she was saying. But he was a hardened warrior. He'd fought along the Barrier Mountains for years. The South posed little threat.
"As you know, Hugh was the queen's father."
"He was also a fool," Vron said. "Hugh preached here as if he were going to find converts in this city? We asked him to leave multiple times, respectfully, I might add. But the man stayed. I'm not surprised the assassins guild got him. I'm sure there was a nice prize to permanently silence his mouth."
Alyna's shoulders dropped as she glared at Vron. "You used to be more willing to listen to a woman's counsel."
"I will listen to the counsel of any living being—human, orc, or elf. Listening is not the same as agreeing."
"I also fear Hugh's actions will lead to an unraveling of society like we've never seen before." Alyna crossed her arms over her chest, defiant.
Their eyes locked. Vron refused to break the silence. He wouldn't give Alyna the satisfaction. Even though she had come so far, sleeping little, just to tell him...
"Okay, fine," Vron finally said. "I'll talk to the general."
"Good!" Alyna slinked closer, resting one of her small hands on his leathery cheek. "You won't regret heeding my warning."
Vron rested his hand on Alyna's. "I never regret anything involving you." He hoped his words conveyed how much he'd missed her. It had only been one night, and he had been with others since, but he'd never forgotten how he'd felt in her arms. Vulnerable. Tender. It was a side of himself he'd never let another female see. Not before, nor since.
Abruptly, Alyna dropped her hand and backed toward the door. "I need to go."
"You just got here. Stay." The life of a warrior was unpredictable. He'd stared death in the face, never backing away. He wanted time to gaze at life, and Alyna was the closest he'd ever gotten to pure creation.
Alyna glanced out the flap, anxiety playing across her face.
"What is it?" Vron asked.
"My... horse," Alyna said. "I'm worried she'll get stolen."
Vron laughed. "No one here will steal a human's steed. They're far too small. Why, if I sat on the back of your horse, I'd crush it."
"It's not that." Alyna's voice lowered to a whisper. "She's different, like me."
"Then let me care for both of you. Even if it's only for tonight. You should get a good night's sleep. Decide in the morning if you really want to leave. You’ll be safer here, with me, than on the road." Vron knew he sounded like a desperate fool. He didn't care. The last time Alyna left, he thought he'd never see her again. He would do anything to hang on to her, if only for a couple of hours.
The corners of Alyna's lips turned downward. "Vron, I can't promise you anything. Just as before."
"I don't expect anything." Hoping was another matter, though.
"Good. Then, yes, I will take hospitality from you tonight." Alyna smiled, warming the tent and Vron's heart.
She was pure energy. Pure life.
"Syra and I appreciate it. Will there be a place for her to have shelter, food, and water?" Alyna asked as she threaded a delicate arm around Vron's muscular forearm.
"Yes, of course. She'll get her own stall, away from my studs. I don't want them to hurt her."
A laugh fell from Alyna's lips. "I wouldn't worry about that. Syra can handle herself quite well against your draft horses."
Just like her master, Vron thought. Though knowing Alyna, she didn't consider herself Syra's master, but her friend. Alyna was friend to all in nature. It was other races she had trouble relating to.
Just like Vron. Despite his size, strength, and ferocity on the battlefield, Vron, too, was wary of others. Orcs. Humans. Elves. It didn't matter.
Except Alyna. She was special.
Alyna's voice was suddenly quiet. "Is there a separate bed for me, as well?"
"You may have mine," Vron promised. "I'll sleep on the floor."
"I'd be happy in the stable with Syra." A comment like that from anyone else would be a pretense, but with Alyna, it was the truth.
"I know you are. It's your choice." Vron knew the decision he wanted her to make, but as he promised, it was up to her. He'd more than made his preference known. "Be aware, the other orcs' eyes will follow us back to my place. They will talk."
"Their rumors don't bother me," Alyna said, "but this is your city. Not mine. Should I take a less obvious path to your home?"
"Absolutely not." Vron patted her hand. "I don't care what they say. I'm proud to walk with you."
"Then let's make our way through Agitar." Alyna stood on her tiptoes and kissed Vron's cheek.
Warmth spread through him, like a breeze on the first warm day of spring. She was back in his life, and though Alyna brought ill tidings, Vron didn't care one bit.
Chapter 7
Queen Lissa stormed out of the war room, leaving Bra
x free to release a long sigh. He'd known by her expression she came with bad news, and that she'd already made up her mind about what to do. She was in no mood for discussion. Tossing a smooth stone from one hand to the other, Brax considered his options.
The queen insisted they march on Agitar immediately, taking them by surprise. Though he'd trained the armies of Soleth for more than a decade, Brax knew they weren't battle-ready. The women and men who fought for him were quite capable of tossing a spear at a straw man. Or at each other in war games.
None of them had truly fought in a battle. Not against an enemy who wanted to kill them. The orcs of Agitar were battle-hardened from repelling anyone who might attempt to invade their territory. In fact, it was due to their vigilance the South had remained quiet for so long.
Brax would never admit it to the queen, but they owed their safety to the orcs. They kept the continent safe from invaders from other continents. Still, the orcs had gone too far in assassinating the queen's father. Though Hugh had never been a ruler himself, letting his own wife rule until her death and then passing the crown to his daughter, the people of Soleth held Hugh in great regard. He might as well have been their own beloved king.
Before, the nations had tolerated each other. Hugh's death changed everything. It created a rift between the nations that could not go ignored. If they didn't stand up to Agitar, they might as well swear eternal fealty to their orc overlords.
He stood, straightening his tunic. The crest emblazoned on his chest shimmered. A sun surrounded by a field of daisies. Strength. Life. It was their way. The darkness in Agitar wouldn't cloud their light.
Brax marched out of his war room, heading across the courtyard filled with laughing children at play to the home of his second in command. He knocked on the door with two short raps.
A moment later, the door opened. A grizzled, sleep-tousled head popped out, eyes blinking at the bright sun. "Thought I wasn't on duty until tonight, Captain."
"You weren't until circumstances changed. I need to speak with you, Jedd. It is of the greatest import." Brax stuck a foot in the door before Jedd could close it. He knew if Jedd had a chance to lie down again, he might not awaken for hours. There was little he liked more than his precious sleep.
Another reason why their army wasn't prepared to march against the orcs. His command staff couldn't be inspired to live the hard life of a soldier. Then again, before now they had no reason to. They lived on an oasis in the desert with few resources other than a great lake to the west and the small patch of fertile land where they carefully grew all of their crops.
"Come in. Please," Jedd said with great exasperation.
Brax stepped through the doorway. His second wandered over to his bed, grabbing the nearest shirt and pulling it over his well-muscled chest. For Jedd, strength had little to do with utility and everything to do with vanity. Brax doubted he would last much longer in battle than an untried boy with arms like sticks.
"You want to tell me what's so important?" Jedd asked as he shoved his feet in his boots. He bent over to lace them up.
"The queen is furious over her father's death."
"Of course she is. Damn orcs. Nasty tempers. But I still don't see why you had to interrupt my sleep for this."
"She wants us to march on their capital city, Agitar." Brax watched Jedd's face carefully.
The man gave no reaction. Good. Brax didn't want to know his true feelings. Not yet. He only wanted Jedd to do his duty.
"Then we prepare for battle." Jedd squared his shoulders as he walked past Brax to the door. "We need to rouse the others. Are you coming?"
"Right behind you." Brax followed Jedd out the door, glad to see his second was doing exactly as he should.
It was a good omen.
The two men walked through town, knocking on the doors of every woman and man who had trained in combat. Many were surprised. All agreed to serve.
Brax quashed the wave of pride he felt. None of them knew the true cost of war. They saw themselves as holy avengers of Hugh. They were more likely to die in Hugh's name than come home to their families.
Children peeked around the legs of parents as they were called to war. Brax avoided their wide-eyed gazes as one parent left the family. Only one was required. The other would stay home to care for the children.
"Momma," one scared little boy called, reaching out to his mother with a shaking hand, as she stuffed clothes in a bag.
She knelt in front of her son, raising his quivering chin with her index finger. "Be strong. I'll be home before you miss me." She kissed his forehead while her husband looked on, their infant daughter in his arms.
Without another word, she followed Brax out the door. She didn't pause to kiss her husband goodbye. Brax wondered if she believed the words she told her son, or if she was simply brave. Either way, this was the behavior he needed from his soldiers. No blubbering about how they'd rather stay home.
No one wanted to go to war. There was strength in doing it together.
After Brax and Jedd had gathered nearly one thousand of their best soldiers, they gathered in a nearby field. "We leave at daybreak," Brax said. "Your job now is to go to the barracks. Sharpen your swords. Test your armor. Be prepared to march at the first light of dawn."
"Sornal will bless our fight," Jedd said. "He will bring us victory over the orcs who killed Hugh. We need not kill anyone who stands aside. We are only after those who took the life of our beloved queen's father. Once that has been accomplished, we will come home to our families."
Relief spread through the army. Brax felt it, too. No one wanted a long campaign. It would be quick and easy, and soon they would be home.
"No!" A voice called out from the back.
Brax looked over the army to see who would be so bold as to refute their orders. His stomach dropped to his feet when he spied a woman with golden hair pushing through the soldiers.
"My queen." Brax dropped to his knee.
She stood next to Brax, nudging him to the side with her hip. He barely caught himself from falling.
"My soldiers," Queen Lissa said, raising her arms in the air. "We will march north, and we will destroy every orc in our path."
"My queen," Jedd said as he knelt.
She ignored him, too, as she continued. "We are the greatest army to ever live. We will show the North no mercy. For too long, we have allowed them to run about like wild animals. It is time they learned to live like a civilized nation. Like us. They will pay for what they've done to my father. We will destroy their way of life. They rejected his teachings, and now we will force them to see the light."
Murmurs rippled through the army. Brax tried to understand, but he only caught a word or two. Nothing told him how they truly felt about her announcement.
Then a single voice cried, "For Sornal! For Soleth!"
"For Sornal! For Soleth!" It loosed a flood, repeated over and over again until it felt as if the entire city was chanting in unison.
Brax glanced over at Jedd. This time he could read the face of his second, and Brax was sure it echoed the fear in his own heart. Their army was no match for the orcs. They would all die in combat. His words about coming home were now empty promises.
The queen patted Brax and Jedd on their heads as if they were nothing more than puppies nipping at her ankles. She left as quickly as she had come, waltzing through the crowd back to her castle.
Brax stood. The army was now in chaos, women and men speaking ever louder to be understood over the din. "My soldiers!" He raised his arms in the air, but his words were ignored.
"I think we need to herd them to the barracks," Jedd said.
"We're sending them to their deaths," Brax retorted.
"It's what the queen wants. Do we have a choice?"
Brax kept quiet. The answer was obvious to them both. He crooked a finger and headed toward the barracks. Jedd called for the soldiers to follow.
Brax kept his eyes forward, refusing to look at the ragged mass of soldie
rs trailing behind him, incapable of walking in a straight line, much less marching in step.
One by one, they entered the barracks. When all was settled, he told Jedd he needed to gather one forgotten item from his house.
Brax strode through the city, his head down, as fast as his feet could carry him. He'd indeed left one thing at home, though it hadn't been forgotten as he'd told Jedd. It was something he couldn't bring out into the open. Certainly not in the light of day. Someone would see. They would know.
Slipping into the house, Brax closed the door behind him and locked it. His house was empty, for Brax had never taken a wife or had children. He couldn't. Had his secret been discovered, he would have been banished from the city.
He knelt, pulling back the rug from the wooden floor. With a careful hand, he unlocked the secret hatch. Below, Ghrol cowered in the dirt, his eyes bloodshot and his ragged, dirty nails reaching up to Brax.
"Shh, it's okay," Brax said as he lowered himself next to him. "I have to leave, and you're coming with me. But you'll need to stay hidden in the shadows, just as you do now. I will visit you every night. Is that okay?"
Ghrol nodded, spittle dripping from the sides of his mouth. He uttered only one word, the same word he always said. The only word Brax thought he knew.
"Bder."
Brax knew what it meant. Brother.
Chapter 8
Through the strands of hair hanging over her face, Nemia couldn't stop staring at her mother. Faint bruises sat on her neck where Nemia had imagined squeezing only days ago. While cleaning the floor, she overheard someone ask her mother where the injury had come from. The queen had shrugged. It was a mystery to her.
Guilt plagued Nemia. She knew she'd caused the bruises during her meeting with Azlinar. He'd encouraged her to use her newfound power, and, caught up in the moment, she had.
Nemia opened her hands, gazing at her fingertips. The power he'd talked about was real. The connection to the well of magic was true.
She wielded magic.