Age of Valor: Awakening

by D. E. Morris

A heavy bell in one of the high towers rang loudly overhead. Ashlynn stopped, her attention being drawn upward as if she could see the bell through the ceiling. All at once there was a flurry of action; soldiers rushed into the hallway heading for the castle gates. Badru shielded Ashlynn and pulled her toward the wall, out of the way of those hurrying to get by.

  “Ashlynn!” It was Lilia from the closest hallway, trying to get her attention. She and Badru hurried over and she found the other girls with her as well. “What is happening?”

  But she was at a loss. “I don't know.”

  Two of her personal guards came up behind her, eyes darting about. “Your Majesty, please come with us.”

  “What is going on?” she demanded.

  “Please, Your Majesty.”

  “Go,” Badru urged. “I will see what I can find out.”

  Before she could protest, he was gone. With little other choice, Ashlynn nodded with a frown. “All right. Come on, girls.” Like little hatchlings, she guided them down the hallways and staircases of Altaine, following quickly behind the men who had sworn to protect her with their lives. It was only when she caught sight of Jaryn coming their way did she halt. “Jaryn!”

  “Go with your men, Ashlynn.”

  There was fear on his face and it knotted her stomach. The girls surrounded her and Zarra asked, “What's happening?”

  “The messenger you sent to Bás has returned.” He looked at the two waiting guards and said, “Take her to the nursery where my son is. Let no one in and no one out.” He turned to Ashlynn and touched her face. “Go.”

  “Absolutely not! I want to go with you.”

  “I don't have time to argue, Ashlynn!” Jaryn gripped her shoulders. “I know you're ready to draw sword and head into whatever is coming, but I can't let you do that now. Not when we have a son to protect.” She opened her mouth to protest, but Jaryn stopped her quickly by commanding, “Go!” before turning and running from her. Defiance welled up inside her and she had half a mind to follow after him despite his order. Her girls were pulling her along, up the stairs and down eerily silent corridors to the nursery, however. It wasn't until she heard the cries of her baby that Ashlynn forgot about her anger. She eagerly took him from a younger girl tending to him and held him close, doing all she could to soothe him. As words of calming passed her lips she couldn't help but watch the guards discuss who would wait inside with them and who would wait just outside. When it was decided, the door was closed tightly and the guard left with them drew his sword.

  “Close the windows and draw the curtains,” he ordered the young nursemaid. Ashlynn's girls rushed to help her while Ashlynn used her fyre for the first time since she'd been in the tower to light candles within the room.

  “Do you know what has happened?” she asked, her voice much calmer than she felt.

  “I know nothing, Your Majesty. Only that the alarm was raised when the messenger returned and High King Jaryn sent orders to keep you and the prince safe.”

  Lilia looked stricken. “Which messenger?”

  Ashlynn had to think. It was an older Volar, one with gray hair and powdery moth-like wings. “Pierre.”

  The winged girl nodded and wrapped her arms around herself.

  Zarra whimpered from the corner of the room, drawing Ashlynn's attention. Sometimes she forgot how young the girl was; she must have been frightened out of her mind. Adjusting Lochlainn against her with one arm, Ashlynn extended the other to Zarra and held her tightly as well.

  “It's going to be all right, Zarra. Hush now.”

  There was a cry of alarm outside that had all of the women drawing close together. Ashlynn squeezed her eyes shut, praying for Lochlainn to calm and for her husband to be safe. She strained her ears to hear above her wailing child for any sounds of fighting. After a few moments she handed the baby to Lilia and disentangled herself from the group to walk closer to the windows.

  “Your Majesty...”

  She raised a hand to silence her guard but did not look at him. Instead she walked as close to the window as she dared and turned her head to try to hear something...anything, but there was nothing, not even a voice on the wind. The desire to pull back the heavy curtains was too strong to resist. With a deep breath in, she gripped the thick fabric and lifted it just enough to poke her head through. The outer courtyard itself was not in the line of sight from Lochlainn's room, neither was the bailey, but there were walkways and parapets that would have held onlookers if there was something to be seen. All was silent and unoccupied.

  “There is nothing,” she told them, retreating back into the room and letting the curtain fall back in place. Nothing could go either way in terms of what to expect.

  “What do we do now?” wept Zarra.

  Ashlynn returned to the huddled group of women and rubbed the young girl's shoulder. “We wait. Jaryn will come for us when all is safe.” There was no doubt about that, though now her irritation at being shuttered away was creeping back in. She was no ordinary queen and he knew that. Lochlainn would have been well protected without her there; thinking about it, however, she knew he would be in the back of her mind and that worry would have been a distraction. Silently, she came to understand her husband's reasoning for not letting her go out to meet the danger with him.

  It felt like hours that they had been kept in seclusion. Much to Ashlynn's dismay, her men were trained well. Even a verbal assault on the guard wouldn't make him leave to go see what he could find out. On any other day his steadfast attention to duty would be a thing to admire; today it was infuriating.

  After draping herself in a blanket and feeding Lochlainn, the baby finally quieted and eventually fell asleep. Zarra dozed as well as she leaned against the wall, her head on the shoulder of the single nanny with them. Lilia paced, unable to sit still. She offered to jump out one of the windows to go investigate, but Ashlynn ordered her to stay put.

  “When I was a little girl,” Mairead said after a long stretch of silence, “I would spend hours locked away in my room, pretending I was living in a moment like this one.” She sat next to Ashlynn, smiling at the memory she shared, but Lilia looked at her with confusion.

  “You used to pretend you were a prisoner inside a castle?”

  Mairead nodded, shy. “I did.”

  “Why in the world would you do that?”

  “Because if you are a prisoner, a handsome prince has to come and rescue you.” Ashlynn smiled softly at her friend. “Right?”

  “Did you do the same?”

  Ashlynn snorted in a rather unladylike manner. “No. I was never a damsel in my fantasies. I was the one storming the castle. Kenayde, on the other hand...”

  The door was pushed open and the guard stepped aside as the women got to their feet, the nanny waking Zarra and pulling her up. Jaryn came in with two guards behind him. He immediately went to Ashlynn to look her and the baby over. “Are you all right?”

  “Besides being bored to tears? What's going on?”

  “There's something I need to show you.” He nodded to the nanny who took the baby without question, then turned knowing Ashlynn would follow him.

  “What about us?” Lilia asked.

  Jaryn paused and turned to survey the expectant faces staring at him, even Zarra as she was waking up. His lips went together in thought, but a decision was made quickly. “Lilia, you should come with us. Zarra and Mairead, stay with Lochlainn for now.”

  “Of course.”

  Zarra heaved a sigh and sat back down to lean against the wall.

  “Is Pierre all right?” Lilia asked, keeping pace as she and Ashlynn followed Jaryn down the halls and stairways, but Jaryn didn't answer. Knowing his lack of response was not a good sign and that Lilia would know that as well, Ashlynn took the younger girl's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  They went down and down, all the way to the very bottom of the castle where the knights trained and the stable boys often slept on the cold winter nights. As their feet passed from stone to s
traw, Jaryn waved a hand to tell the guards to wait at the entrance. He then led Ashlynn and Lilia to one of the training rooms that was farthest back. There were no doors to close any of the rooms in, but at the entrance to the room Jaryn stopped and turned to look at the women. For a moment he said nothing, his gaze dropping to the hands they had linked together. Then he grimaced.

  “I have come to truly appreciate how much my wife has love for her ladies and how much they love her.” His eyes lifted to settle on Lilia's face. “Keep hold of her hand now, Lilia.”

  The young woman cast an uneasy glance at Ashlynn before nodding to Jaryn. He took a slow breath in, then turned and led them inside.

  The room smelled of sweat and musk. It was already well lit with torches, flames reflecting odd shapes from the shields and weapons that hung on the walls and armor waiting to be worn. At the far end of the room was a pile of straw that had yet to be swept away, as if the room had been in the middle of being cleaned. There had been activity in this room that was interrupted when the messenger returned. It was a distracting thought but not distracting enough for her to miss their reason for being there.

  Lilia's grasp on her hand tightened and Ashlynn gasped. There was a cot on the floor with a figure lying prone atop it. Pierre, an older man who had been in service as one of Altaine's three permanent messengers, did not bear the peaceful pallor of sleep in his death. His mouth was slackened, cuts and deep lacerations running across his forehead, cheeks, even his eyes, nose, and mouth. Upon further inspection she could see the damage was extended to his arms, hands, torso, and legs. His entire body was covered in wounds that had bled until they appeared to be burned closed.

  Ashlynn wanted to pull free from Lilia, but a quick look at the girl made it obvious that she would not be able to keep herself upright if their connection was severed. Swinging her head around, she looked at Jaryn wildly. “We have seen these marks before.”

  He nodded heavily. “I know.”

  She could still see Elas in her mind the morning he and his fellow water dragons had been attacked. He'd said they were small and sliced at their bodies like razors. They'd been trying to scout out the enemy before the war and had come home heavily injured. It was a sight she would never forget.

  A scream was building in her throat, she could feel it - not out of terror but of righteous indignation. She wanted to curse whoever had done this, to lash out and seek retribution. Mostly, Ashlynn wanted to hurt someone.

  “A villager found him a few miles north of here,” Jaryn said. He walked closer to the body and crouched. “He was just dumped in a field.”

  Lilia wept. “Oh, Pierre.”

  “How did the villager know to bring him here?” Ashlynn asked.

  Jaryn moved a part of Pierre's tunic aside and pulled free a letter that had been shut with Ashlynn's own wax seal.

  She took the letter and finally let go of Lilia to inspect the parchment. There was not a single drop of blood or tear; the seal wasn't even broken. “I sent him to Bás to see if Nealie's child was there.”

  “I'd wager he never even left Siness.”

  So many thoughts were running through her head. She looked into the corners of the room, half expecting to see Tadhg there watching her, silently laughing at her.

  “Guard.” Ashlynn turned as one of the summoned men approached. “Take Lady Lilia to the nursery where my other ladies are.” She watched the younger girl brushing salt and pepper hair from Pierre's face. “You don't need to see any more of this.” Holding out her hand, Ashlynn focused on staying strong until she was alone with Jaryn. Lilia went to her and Ashlynn enfolded her in a tight embrace, promising to find her later before letting her go. As the footfalls of the retreating pair faded, Ashlynn reeled on Jaryn, green eyes narrowed and angry.

  “I told you this would happen!”

  The fire in the torches jumped and spat, feeding off of her emotions. Jaryn noticed this and stood, offering placating hands. “Calm down. What do you mean you told me this would happen?”

  “After the war I told you it wasn't over. I knew deep down that Merrik wasn't gone.” It had been a deep fear of hers, one that she laughed off when Kenayde suggested it to her, yet the fear was always there.

  “You think Merrik did this? Ashlynn, Kenayde and Sabari killed him. Your sister told us as much herself.”

  “His body was never found!” Realizing the full weight of the situation, Ashlynn's hands went to her mouth and her eyes widened in terror. “He's the reason I've been having nightmares.”

  “Ashlynn...”

  “He made me see Tadhg on Mirasean!” She looked wildly to the darkened corners of the room again. “It's Merrik.”

  “You're talking crazy!”

  “I am not crazy!”

  Her voice rang out sharply, echoing off the stone walls that surrounded them. Breathing heavily, she repeated in a quieter tone, “I am not crazy.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn't have to.” She tried to steady her breath and slow her heart down, but each time she looked at Pierre she felt her stomach tighten. With her letter still in hand she turned her back on the body to focus her thoughts. “Are our other two messengers here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  She was silent for several minutes and it prompted Jaryn to step closer to her. “What are you thinking, love?”

  “We need to get word to Nuala. Pierre is Volar and she must know what's happened to him. We will also need to send for Tasarin. He made a cure for this attack last time with the blood of the unicorn and since he is the only one spirit-linked to a unicorn we will need his help.”

  Jaryn shook his head. “We can't be certain anyone else was attacked.”

  “Maybe not, but we should be prepared.” She turned around to face her husband, eyes pleading. “I'm not crazy, Jaryn.”

  “I know you're not.” He closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. “Adding this in with Nealie's death, I know something is going on. I'm just afraid to think of what it might be.”

  “We can't be afraid. We don't have that luxury.”

  He sighed. “I'm at a loss. This isn't my area. Tell me what we should do and I will support you.”

  “My father will be on his way here by now for a visit. I want to meet him when he ports. We'll send men to Braemar and not a Volar as a simple precaution, someone who bears no sign of Altaine just to be safe. We'll dress one of the castle guards as a villager and send him.”

  “Why not go yourself or send Badru in fyre?”

  Ashlynn pulled free from her husband's arms and shook her head. “I don't want to leave Altaine now. Whoever did this to Pierre left him where they did as a message to me, to us. I'll ask Badru to go to Tasarin since we need him here quickly.” She frowned in thought. “How many here at court saw Pierre?”

  “Enough so that the entire castle knows he's dead by now. I don't think anyone besides the villager who brought him here and the guards who met him know the extent of his injuries, though. The villager is still here.”

  The smile Ashlynn gave Jaryn was grim. “Good. We will make sure he shares the details with no one. The official word will be that Pierre's heart stopped and he fell from the sky while on his way to deliver a letter.” She glanced at the body once more. “If we seal this room off, will it stay cool enough to keep the body until Tasarin arrives?”

  Jaryn looked around and nodded. “It should.”

  “Then let's do that. In the meantime, I will speak with Badru and organize the parties being sent to Braemar and to my father.”

  “I'll talk to the villager.”

  Ashlynn sighed heavily. “And so it begins.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The sky was dark with heavy, thick clouds. What had begun as a late summer misting slowly turned into steady rain as the ship drew closer to land. Wessely was greeted at the dock by two guards from Altaine, both putting forth a valiant effort to not look miserable in their soaking wet arm
or. His few trunks were fetched from below deck by three of his own men, and they followed Wessely and the guards through the town and beyond where a richly decorated carriage awaited. More men sat atop horses, two in front and two behind, all clearly eager to be anywhere but in the rain.

  While the trunks were fastened to the back of the carriage, the door was opened for Wessely and he climbed in with haste. “I appreciate your coming to greet me, Ashlynn, but it was rather unnecessary in this...” He stopped, his heavy mantle removed and rain soaked hair brushed from his face. His attention finally went to the other person in the cabin with him. “Well, hello.”

  Mairead sat on the other side of the carriage, her hair pinned with curls and jewels, a fine crown of silver upon her head. The dress she wore of burgundy and white was made with expensive cloth and the light cape draped around her shoulders was very much like one Ashlynn had worn many a time before.

  “Hello, Your Highness.”

  Wessely's head tilted. “You are not my daughter.” She smiled, making Wessely smile in return. “Though I daresay anyone could mistake the two of you.”

  “Anyone but you.”

  His smile turned into a knowing grin. “Ah, but a father could never mistake another for his own child. You must be Mairead, then. Ashlynn told me one of her ladies was hand selected because of her resemblance.”

  “I am.” She bowed her head. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is all mine.” Wessely's eyes narrowed as he looked Mairead over with scrutiny. “Most uncanny.” The smile faded and he sighed. “Something has happened. She would not have sent you otherwise. Is my grandson all right?”

  “The young prince is fine, I assure you, though something has happened. There is little I can tell you simply because there is little I know. Only that one of Altaine's messengers was killed and that Ashlynn believes the way it was done was a warning or a threat to her, as well as the other Elementals.”

  Wessely frowned. “How was he killed?”

  “I am afraid that is the extent of my knowledge.”