The soldiers that had been willing to risk it had already left to join Demetrius’ force, but it was unlikely that they would see any more. Most of the men in the garrison had family in Dremald and the word had been passed around that the families of the deserters were gathered up and held in the dungeons.
Master Coal then spoke of their journey from Razbeck and what they had learned about Ewzad Vriil and his magic rings. Jhonate was impressed with Justan’s accomplishments and everything he had overcome. It took enormous effort on her part not to stare at him. Master Coal then spoke of the army blocking the way to the Mage School and the deterioration of the protected road through the Tinny Woods.
Faldon spoke of the need for solidarity and outlined the plan he had been working on with Captain Demetrius. They would pass through the back entrance to Wobble and stage their army in the caverns while they launched a series of raids and disrupted the besieging army. With Master Coal’s bonded inside the school, they could coordinate attacks with the academy and eventually drive the goblinoids back into the mountains.
Once the academy was free, they could head back to Dremald. Captain Demetrius assured them that the garrison would change to their side as soon as they knew they would be able to keep their families safe. The city would fall easily at that point and once they had deposed the queen and gotten rid of Ewzad Vriil, they would be able to help the Mage School.
This was where the disagreement began. Sir Lance argued that they should go and free Sampo first and clear the path to the Mage School. Once that was accomplished they could return to Dremald with the might of the wizards behind them. Master Coal was in agreement with that plan.
Captain Demetrius objected and finally Faldon tabled the discussion. They would meet again and decide their final course of action once the Battle Academy had been freed. Their one remaining problem was finding the entrance to the back way to Wobble. So far their dwarven helpers had been unable to find it.
“I know where the dag-gum entrance is,” said Justan’s dwarf friend from the back of the tent. “Whoever yer dwarves are, they probly ain’t been there in years. Old Stangrove was clever when he hid it. I’ll tell you what. Pack up in the mornin’ and I’ll lead you through to the caves.”
“Thank you, Lenui,” Faldon said. “That is exactly what we’ll do. Gentlemen, let your people know to pack up their tents first thing in the morning. We’ll travel to the caves and meet once again to discuss tactics once our scouts have had time to look at the enemy positions.”
Everyone began talking amongst each other. Jhonate glanced over and saw that Justan was talking with Master Coal. She took the opportunity to sneak out of the tent, staying behind some of the others so that he would not see her leave. Once she had reached the safety of the night, Jhonate jogged towards the training area, constantly checking behind her to make sure Justan hadn’t followed.
She stood underneath the large tree on the edge of the training area and paced, unsure what to do next. She and Vannya had not gotten very far in their plan. How long was she supposed to ignore Justan before he learned his lesson and then how was she supposed to make sure that Vannya didn’t try to take him for herself?
Jhonate finally turned and began to climb the tree, searching for a thick branch that she could sit on and still have a clear view of the ground below while she meditated. She saw an ideal branch but when she climbed towards it, her hands closed on something warm and scaled.
She drew her hand back in alarm and looked up into the face of a reptilian man. It had been sitting so still, she hadn’t noticed it before. Its eyes were large and round in the darkness, his mouth lined with razor sharp teeth. It hissed and climbed further up the tree.
Jhonate focused the tip of her staff to a spear-like point and jabbed up at it, certain that it was a spy for the witch. It deftly dodged her attacks, using the trunk and other branches to its advantage.
Jhonate snorted. The creature was nimble, but she was born in a forest. Even with her staff in one hand, she was confident that she would corner it soon.
“Jhonate wait!” came a deep bass voice from below.
She glanced down to see a large ogre standing below the tree, breathing heavily peering up at her. It was Justan’s bonded, Fist.
“Oh, sorry, I meant Ma’am,” he said. “That is Deathclaw in the tree above you. He is one of us, Justan’s bonded.”
She looked back up at the reptilian creature. Justan had bonded with such strange things. She removed her staff and said, “I am sorry for attacking you.”
It chirped back at her.
“Deathclaw does not talk very often,” Fist explained. “That’s why he asked me to come and talk to you. He doesn’t have lips and his tongue is different. Justan has been practicing with him, but it is not easy.”
Jhonate climbed down to the lowest branch and hopped down to stand in front of the ogre. His movements were quite humanlike. “You speak very well, Fist.”
The ogre’s face split into a wide grin. “I have been practicing. Justan teaches me new words every day and I can even read and write.”
“I am impressed,” she said.
“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said.
“You can call me Daughter of Xedrion,” she said.
“Oh,” Fist said. “But can I call you Ma’am anyway? Justan remembers calling you that.”
“If you wish,” she said. This ogre was quite interesting. “So why are you here?”
“Deathclaw called out to me through the bond,” Fist explained. “He was worried that he would have to hurt you and Justan would be very mad at him if he did that.”
“You two can speak together through this bond as well?” she asked. Locksher had told her about the bonding magic Justan had, but he knew very little about how it worked.
“Justan can make it so we can talk to each other,” Fist says. “He leaves it open most of the time now.”
“So you can speak with him too? Just with your thoughts?”
“Yes and we can see each others memories and feel each others feelings,” Fist explained.
Jhonate blinked. Such fascinating magic. It seemed similar to her bond with her staff. “What is Ju-, Sir Edge doing now?”
“He was coming this way but the girl Vannya has stopped him.”
“She has?” Jhonate said. She gripped her staff tightly.
“Yes. Vannya is talking to Justan right now.” Fist said.
“That liar,” Jhonate said under her breath. She should have known Vannya would betray her. “What is she saying?”
“She is asking him if he really meant what he said in his letter,” Fist said.
Jhonate frowned. “And what did he say in reply?”
“He did,” Deathclaw remarked from the branches above. The beast’s voice was strained and whispery.
Fist frowned up at the creature. “What Justan said was that he meant every word he wrote. Their friendship is very important to him,” Fist clarified. “She then asked him if he really thought she was beautiful.”
“I will smack her if she does not back off,” Jhonate said.
“She gets closer. He likes her scent,” Deathclaw remarked.
“He does?” That Vannya with all her primping. Jhonate began to feel sick to her stomach.
“Yes,” said Fist shooting a glower into the trees. “But there is one scent he likes more.”
“There is?” Jhonate sat down at the base of the tree and drew up her legs, wrapping her arms around her knees. She twisted the ring on her finger once more, feeling the urge to hurl it away into the darkness.
“He carries a letter with him always,” Fist said. “Inside there are green ribbons. Some times at night he cups them in his hands and presses them to his nose. The scent is faint but it is his favorite scent in the world.”
She clutched her hand to her chest, tears forming in her eyes. He had kept the ribbons. When she had sent the letter, she had debated against such a personal and bold message. She hadn’t understood why she
had wanted to do it. It had been so important to her at the time.
Why was the man able to both infuriate her and endear himself to her so easily?
“It is a warrior’s scent,” Deathclaw said from above. “Your scent.”
“She knows that,” Fist remarked in irritation.
“What is Mage Vannya doing now?” Jhonate asked.
Fist looked hesitant.
“Tell me,” she said.
Fist winced and said, “She says that she enjoyed their kiss.”
“I will kill her,” Jhonate growled, jumping to her feet.
“But Justan says that she must stop what she is trying to do. He wants to be her friend, but it cannot be if she continues to act this way.” Fist said. “He is angry because it was his first kiss and she had not given him a choice.”
“Why didn’t he slap her?” Jhonate asked. “Tell him to slap her.”
“He says no,” Deathclaw said from above, sounding disappointed.
“Deathclaw! Now he is angry with us,” Fist said.
“What did he say?” she asked.
“Deathclaw told him that you wanted him to slap her and he closed off the bond so I can’t hear,” Fist said. The ogre grimaced. “Now he is coming this way.”
“I see,” Jhonate backed up until she felt the wood of the tree trunk against her back. “Goodnight, Fist. Goodnight, Deathclaw.”
“Wait, Ma’am,” the ogre said, but Jhonate did not stay.
She ran to her tent and slipped inside. She laid on her bedroll fully clothed, her heart racing. Jhonate bit her lip and waited, worried that Justan would follow and ask her to come out and speak with him,
Jhonate was afraid to face him at that moment. She knew that she would be unable to control herself. There were certain proprieties to be observed, certain rules to be obeyed. If he spoke to her again that night, she might kiss him herself just as Vannya had and if she did that, she would lose all discipline. That was unacceptable.
A half hour passed and he did not come. Part of her was relieved, but part of her was disappointed. Then Vannya didn’t arrive and she began to worry. What if Vannya was with Justan? What if he had changed his mind? Perhaps she should go and find him herself.
Jhonate sat up and crossed her legs, forcing her mind into a meditative state. She forced the fears and worries away and relaxed in the calm whiteness. She walked into her mind’s library and looked up the memories of her time training Justan, remembering what it was that had so endeared him to her back then.
Slowly she drifted off to sleep and dreamt and in her dreams Justan kissed her over and over again, but her father found out and came after them, sending an army to track them down.
Chapter Twenty Three
Justan awoke that morning sore and exhausted. He couldn’t remember his dreams, but they left him feeling uneasy. He had spent the night tossing and turning, wondering what he should say to Jhonate in the morning. He was still angry with Fist and Deathclaw for butting in and telling Jhonate about his conversation with Vannya, but he was relieved that he had said the right things to the mage. She had laid the charm on really thick and it had been very tempting.
His first instinct when he had arrived at the tree had been to chase after Jhonate but after Fist showed him how their conversation had gone, he had decided against it. She didn’t want to talk to him right then and though that was painful, he was pretty sure Jhonate was angry with Vannya, not him and that had to be enough.
He reached for Gwyrtha through the bond and asked for some extra energy. She gave it to him and greeted him with her mental version of sloppy good morning kisses. When he still didn’t jump up right away, she appeared at his side and nudged him, rolling him off of his bedroll.
Up! Up!
Justan laughed out loud and that uneasy feeling left him. He scratched Gwyrtha behind the ears and got dressed. He and his bonded had camped with Coal’s just a short distance from Faldon’s army. People were up and walking around and he could hear the sounds of tents being taken down.
He prodded Fist. “Time to wake up.”
Fist groaned and Squirrel, who had been curled up in a ball on the ogre’s chest, sat up and shook an angry fist at him. Justan passed some of Gwyrtha’s energy on to the ogre for good measure, and Gwyrtha gave a great lick to the side of the ogre’s head that left all the hair on that side sticking straight up.
Up, Fist!
“Okay, Gwyrtha. I’m up!” Fist said in irritation, frowning as he wiped her slobber off his large face.
“We need to get our things together,” Justan said as he quickly rolled up his bedroll and put his belongings away. “Lenny is leading us into the crevasse this morning and I want to be there to see how the dwarves hid it.”
Gwyrtha let out a mental shout of excitement and Justan turned to see her rush over and nudge a familiar figure.
“Hi, Gwyrtha, good to see you,” said Zambon with a smile as he rubbed her mane. “Good morning, Edge!”
Justan clasped arms with the man. “When did you get back? I had hoped to see you last night.”
“Yeah, we got back late,” Zambon explained. “We still didn’t find the stupid pass. Those dwarves I was with had heard of the back way to Wobble, but none of them had used it themselves. I didn’t find out you were here until this morning.”
Fist walked up and patted the guard on the back. “Hello, Tamboor’s son!”
“Hello, Fist. Glad to see you’re looking well.” The guard gave his weapon an admiring glance. “That is one wicked looking mace.”
“I know! Lenny made it for me. It’s magic!” Fist said. “You are wearing Tamboor’s sword?”
Justan noticed the hilt of Tamboor’s legendary sword Meredith protruding from Zambon’s back. He had seen his father spar against that sword many times as a child. “Didn’t Lenny make you a sword?” Justan asked.
“I carry Meredith for my father when he isn’t heading into battle. Her magic increases emotion and toughness, which is perfect for a berserker, but he is already too full of anger,” Zambon said candidly. “I try not to speak of it to others, but . . . it was hard for him to function when he carried her in his hands. My sword Elise on the other hand heals and seems to make him feel better. Carrying it helps him control himself.”
“Do you think he’s getting better, Zambon?” Justan asked.
“Maybe,” Zambon replied. “But it’s hard to tell. He still hasn’t said more than three words to me since we left Vriil’s castle.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Justan said. “Maybe when this war is over he’ll be able to heal.”
“I hope so,” Zambon said, though he didn’t look very confident in his father’s chances. The guard changed the subject. “So are Lenny and Qyxal around? I have something for them.”
Justan swallowed. “That’s right. You wouldn’t have heard. I . . . I’m sorry. Qyxal was killed in a fight with one of Ewzad’s monsters. We’re bringing his remains back to his people.”
“Oh . . . that’s horrible,” Zambon said, his eyes downcast. “He was a good friend.”
“Ah! No! I forgot to tell Vannya!” Justan said, bringing one hand to his mouth. “Oh, that’s going to be bad. They were close. She’ll need me to hug her.”
Zambon gave him a puzzled look. “I can think of worse things.”
“You don’t know what I’ve been going through with her since we’ve arrived,” Justan said.
Zambon nodded in understanding. “Let me guess. It has to do with the Daughter of Xedrion, right?”
“Yes!” Justan said.
“I was going to warn you about those two. They questioned me about you several times and I knew you were heading for trouble.”
“Vannya kissed him,” Fist said.
“No way,” Zambon said with a laugh.
“Yeah. First thing when I walked into camp,” Justan said.
“What did the Daughter of Xedrion do?”
“She broke his nose with her staff,” Fist said and l
aughed along with Zambon.
“It wasn’t quite that simple,” Justan said. He saw Master Coal walking towards the camp and called out, “Master Coal!”
The wizard turned and approached them with a tired smile. “Good morning, Edge.”
“Good morning, Master,” Justan said. “Um, do you know where Lenny is?”
The War of Stardeon (The Bowl of Souls) Page 33