The Legacy of Lanico: Reclaiming Odana

by E Cantu Alegre

  She made a small nervous giggle. “Lan, I just wanted to say thank you.”—she looked down; biting her lip, then her eyes caught his again. Heat began to flush to her face as she knit her brow as if considered something, then she saw his eyes roving over her form and grinned. “Lan you have—"

  “What’s there to eat?” Marin’s voice pipped from behind a startled Treva. He continued to amble past her sleepily and sat down at the table. The moment between Treva and Lanico had been brief. Blazing fires now snuffed. They looked at each other with small smiles. Candle flames.

  Gish came in just after Marin, looking most uncomfortable and groggy.

  Lanico knew they had a problem: two dead Mysra warriors lay on the dew-covered grass outside. He wasn’t sure how Gish would react to this—but knew it was a task best handled quickly.

  “Gish, may I have a moment with you in the sitting room?” Lanico asked quickly, before the others began to talk about the events of the night, so he could break the news himself. Without a word, Gish turned from the chair he had been about to take and followed Lanico out into the sitting room, where Lanico sat and motioned for Gish to take another chair, which creaked slightly under his weight.

  “Gish, I know that you were the first to bed last night. While you were sleeping, there was an incident that took place I wanted to tell you about . . .” Lanico paused and tried to gauge Gish’s mood. He always had the same grim expression, unreadable. There was no noticeable scent of threat, or so Greta had said, reinforcing his own previous assessment. The results were both reassuring and odd.

  There was no sense in delaying so Lanico got right to it. “Two Mysra warriors tried to attack Anah and Marin at the river’s edge last night. Luckily, Treva and I were able to intervene in time. Well”—Lanico looked uncomfortable—"we killed them. Both of them.” Lanico looked up to meet Gish’s steady small blue eyes. The Mysra seemed to be only slightly more agitated, and Lanico longed to read Gish’s feelings.

  “Look,” Gish started in a tart tone, “I joined you and Marin with the intent of freeing the slaves and not siding with my father. I have long been unhappy, an outsider to even my own people and manipulated by my father. I understand well that this decision to side with you will bring the death and destruction of many Mysra. I have the most to lose of anyone.” Gish paused, directing a stony glance to Lanico.

  Despite the Mysra’s tone, Lanico felt a sigh of relief escape him. “Gish, I thank you for telling me about your feelings about this, and for reassuring me that you have chosen to side with us for this larger purpose. We are most fortunate to have your sword—or knife—on our side. I didn’t mean to insult you. I just wasn’t sure how you’d react.” His tone was soft and honest.

  Gish nodded. “I understand.”

  The mission here had been accomplished successfully. Remembering his other task, Lanico then made a loud, weary sigh. “Well, now I have the duty of disposing of the bodies”—he paused—"and they are too big for me to carry or drag into the woods to bury—"

  “Bury?” Gish asked.

  “Well, yes. Bury.” It was when Gish looked questioningly at Lanico, he remembered the Mysra didn’t often bury their dead.

  “Oh, right. I forgot you bury the dead, not burn them,” Gish said, nodding in thought. Even though he was stronger, he’d not be able to carry the bodies into the woods, either. “Won’t you bury them where they lie?”

  “No, they’d be too close to the river, to our water supply. I’ll have to”—Lanico paused, thinking of the grotesque work ahead—"I have to cut them up and move them out into the woods in large . . . uh, parts. And then bury them.”

  Gish gave a low grumble and another hint of agreement.

  Lanico blinked and slapped his hands on his seated thighs before he rose to a stand. Gish followed his movements and stood as well. For Lanico, it was time to get to the chores. He loathed wasting time and enough had been said.

  “Well, I don’t want to keep you from eating breakfast,” he announced. Please return to the dinning area and eat well - we will be training hard today.” Lanico gestured to the eating room—he would not ask this Mysra to dismember and dispose of his own kind.

  Gish, though not enthusiastic about the prospect of training, accepted this new responsibility. He appreciated that they were trying to teach him a new skill. It was more than he had experienced under his own Mysra superiors, who just ordered him to jump into a task and learn by trial and error. Even if their tactics resulted in injury, or death. He walked slowly back into the dining area to join the others.

  Standing there alone, Lanico decided to lure Treva outside in the only way that he knew would work. Then, afterwards, she could train Gish and Marin while he began his unpleasant task of cutting up the dead Mysra. It was an excuse to exercise before his loathsome task.

  He grabbed the Reluctant Leader and stepped out into the green dewy world. Outside he carefully placed training weapons in strategic locations that dotted the small clearing before the mystical home and river. The surrounding pines and timber were a comforting guardian, watching in silence.

  Once ready, he gripped his sword. The grip of the Reluctant Leader was an extension of his own arm after the many hundreds of years he had wielded it. He had practiced, fought, and sparred with it for countless hours.

  Near the mist-covered river Lanico practiced by himself, lunging the long sword and thrusting strikes in the air. His hair spun at his fluid movements. He had balance and a graceful posture, unburdened by the breakfast the others were enjoying.

  ✽✽✽

  Skillful and perfect, Treva thought, peering out at her Prince from the sitting room window, watching in admiration. He was the Odana General and she had once sought to be as good as him. No, better. Long ago, she had sought to be a better Knight then him. And now he seen her crying—again! That was twice. The last time was when she told him she was . . . And, last night, last night when he healed her.

  It was like a dream that she found herself here safe, away from the mines, pain-free, reunited with Greta, with Marin, and with the man she had always loved.

  She sighed out, thinking over this.

  How would Marin take the news of their love? “Well,” she murmured as she finally went through the door, “that conversation will have to take place another time.” Training needed to be done and time was limited. She knowingly took Lanico’s bait and went to join him near the misty river. The sound of his slashes against the air called to her, sending prickles to her skin. She’d answer.

  Lanico caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye and smiled. It worked. He thought.

  No, you didn’t lure me, she answered in her thoughts when she saw his twisted smile of contentment. “I just love the sword,” she said aloud.

  Wait.

  They each paused at the shared thought. Both astonishment and delighted unison brightened their faces.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Timeless connection

  Lanico and Treva practiced their movements on one another without words—the ringing clash of swords was another of their private languages. Over and over again in a timeless dance, back and forth, in the swirling mist. They knew each other’s movements, were deft at each other’s strikes. It was remarkable. The healing had linked them somehow and created a bond. Their movements were almost synchronized and smooth.

  Treva felt free and almost ethereal. With her side healed, she imagined she felt part Fray: glowing, glorious, and light. Did he give me some of his Fray abilities? She hadn’t felt this fabulous in more years than she could remember and they were so in tune with one another. As strange as it seemed, she even felt younger by many years. They came quickly to realize that they could almost sense each other’s thoughts through a mere glance.

  How is that possible?

  But there it was.

  A shared connection between them extended the limits of verbal understanding. Looking into her eyes, knowing her, he was feeling inspired and more determined
than ever. Her spirit ever clearer to him now only served to embolden him.

  Every clash of the sword meant another step closer to slaying Grude and ending countless years of misery that she and throngs of others had endured. They had sparred for a long but timeless time when Treva noticed the audience they had accumulated. She slowed and looked at him with a jerk of her head in the onlookers’ direction. He nodded with a slight smile of understanding, so she turned to beckon Gish, Marin, and Anah.

  “Okay, your turn!” she shouted at them as they stood idly by, and she extended her arm, beckoning them in near. She turned to Lanico—who smiled back at their students’ lack of enthusiasm.

  She ushered Marin and Gish over first. They each took a sword and started sparring under Treva’s close supervision, and Lanico left them to it—Marin knew what to do.

  As planned, he went around the corner of the house and began the task of burying the Mysra while first having to endure the horrible job of cutting up the limbs and trunks of the dead bodies. At first the young WynSprigns and Gish were interested in Lanico’s gruesome work, but after Treva’s barked instructions, Marin and Gish returned to sparring. Anah sat on a river boulder watching, bored.

  It wasn’t long before Lanico was ready to take the Mysra body parts to their final resting place deep in the woods and far from the house and the river, back in the direction from which they had come. He dragged them as far as he was able, away from the sight of others, and began the task of digging.

  Anah joined him to assist in the burial. She was the odd one out, as she didn’t have a sparring partner. She started to help carry the massive body parts to the shallow grave, but Lanico would not allow it. Anah, having a temper to match her fiery hair, seemed set to prove her strength and her worth. For Lanico it wasn’t about proving worth, or even strength—he knew that she had to have been very strong to have survived in the mines all these years.

  “Life outside of the mines will be wonderful but different.” She looked up at him questionably as they walked. “Your physical contribution does not equate to your worth here.” He clarified, “You are more than a physical worker, toiler. I see that you’re very clever and brave. The reason for my stopping your assistance on this task is simple, I don’t want you to have to labor needlessly over a task I could do easily myself.”

  But she still walked with him to the waiting pit. He asked her about her history, to keep her occupied while he worked.

  Anah had been born into confinement and lived the entirety of her young life as a slave, she explained to him, so she was not used to being idle while others worked. Understanding, he still refused her offer to help, trying to make a gesture of kindness to her, but she pouted a bit. Lanico paid her no mind—for she was young. He allowed her follow him anyway, to give her something to do.

  As they drew close to the shallow pit, Lanico heaved over the final heavy Mysra body parts while Anah sat on the ground and began to push dirt in over them with a big fallen branch she found. She crouched beside the massive pile of dirt and leaned forward to push in as much dirt as she was able to, in big hefty shoves of the branch.

  “Lanico”—she sniffed hard and wiped the sweat from her brow with her forearm—"when will I start my training?” She straightened herself and looked at him squarely. Dirt covered her legs, hands, and arms.

  “Training?” Lanico grunted, quickly throwing in a huge Mysra thigh—roughly the size of Anah’s entire body.

  “Yes, like Marin and Gish?” She winced up at him in the stray sunlight. He could see she was serious. She expected an answer.

  Lanico was cautious here. He hadn’t thought about having Anah train. He mirrored Anah’s move and wiped his face with his forearm.

  Still waiting for his answer, she continued: “If Marin can handle the sword, I’m sure I can.” She flexed her arm with pride, showing off a surprisingly impressive bicep and a twinkling smile.

  Lanico wasn’t sure how to answer this, but maybe it was good for her to learn. The skill of sword fighting was very useful for protection in general. He turned to face her more and she took in a sharp breath. “Well, I think you can begin once we get back. Gish will undoubtedly be looking for some relief.” Lanico smiled at her, his face now grimy with dirt and smeared Mysra blood.

  She laughed at the sight of him.

  Lanico smiled back at her and laughed a little, too. He shook his head at her girlish giggles. He didn’t know what he had said to make her laugh. What he said about Gish was true. He shrugged and joined her, kneeling to help scoop dirt into the grave.

  ✽✽✽

  Greta had confined herself to her room for the day, for her regular ritual of deep prayer, meditation, and mental communication with her Fray sisters who dotted their world. Odan hadn’t been in attendance in their meditative meetings, nor Jaspia, in years. Fray Greta took the charge of these meetings, wielding authority over her younger Fray sisters and giving them the messages from Odan himself. The meetings were usual in times of duress, but even in times of peace, they communicated on the comings and goings of the lands that surrounded them, the lands that were assigned to them to watch over. Fray Greta continued to assure her Fray sisters that Lanico’s prospects of reclaiming the Odana had increased and that victory was on their side. For she wasn’t the only Fray impacted by their sister Jaspia’s horrendous creations. She was also careful to warn her sisters of Fray Jaspia’s involvement. Surely, their outcast sister would not be content to allow the overthrow of her creations that were now ruling that land.

  ✽✽✽

  Outside, near the river, Marin and Gish were still working at their positions and strikes under Treva’s supervision.

  Treva shouted relentlessly at them both: “Gish! Yes! Much better—no, no, keep your focus, Marin!”

  Lanico and Anah, both filthy, emerged from the trees, and Lanico announced, “I’ve got the next warrior ready for training!” The glint of his teeth shone in the sun.

  They all paused and Marin, sweaty and panting, gulped at the sight of Anah. The girl playfully flexed her bicep at them, and with her unkempt flaming claret hair and wide smile, she seemed wild and untamable.

  Treva walked over to them briskly, swinging to yell back over her shoulder to her students, “You can stop now—take a rest!” She squinted back at a beaming Lanico. “What’s on your face?”

  “Ah . . . what’s on my face?” He glanced down at a grinning and giggling Anah and then felt at the crusting Mysra blood and dirt on his face.

  Ah. Right. He grinned a little understanding now, the reason she had been giggling earlier.

  ✽✽✽

  Marin went into the house for a drink of water and Gish remained outside. Alone, he began to feel the change that had come in his heart. He rested there, without anyone around to watch over him. He was trusted. He felt truly accepted among them.

  In that quiet moment, he knelt over the flowing river and pulled out his hidden trillium pouch. He loosened the strings and turned the pouch over, the purple contents sprinkling into the river. He did not want to think at length about what he was doing, for if he did, he might regret it. He understood that he would regret it later anyway. Gish shoved the emptied pouch back into his pocket just as Marin came back from the house. He understood his body would react to the lack of the precious trillium, but he determined it was the only way for him to gain his own personal freedom.

  “Here you go”—Marin held out a large cup of water to the kneeling Mysra—who in that pose was about the same height as Marin.

  Gish nodded and smiled slightly at him. “Thanks,” he said simply, taking what seemed a small cup in his massive hand.

  “What do you think about Anah practicing at the sword?” Marin asked, squinting into the sun-brightened river.

  “I think she’s going to kick your ass,” Gish replied without hesitation, looking at his friend with honesty and complete seriousness. There wasn’t a hint of a hilarity on his stone face.

  Marin tensed and gulped
his water, hard.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Elation

  “You found it?” Grude’s shrill voice exclaimed. “The WynSprign village?” He jerked forward from the throne to where Neen and Gax knelt; dramatically hanging their heads low, for they knew Grude appreciated this. Green light from the stained glass cast them in an eerie glow.

  Neen rose to stand, and Gax followed the unspoken command.

  “Yes.” Neen saw the gleam from their leader’s eyes, and he’d keep it there. “We found it—it was hidden deep in the woods, beyond Horse’s Clearing, surprisingly easy to find.” Neen paused to grin. “They had tracks everywhere. They have been living in this hidden realm all this time. When we cased the village, we found no guards, no weapons . . . and they walked around freely without concern.” Neen’s voice deepened “Easy.”

  The corners of Grude’s stone mouth curled, deeply satisfied.

  “Neen, Gax, let me thank you both properly by allowing you to absorb Gish’s share of titles and responsibilities.” At this point, that had been an easy decision. Grude rose to stand.

  “He has not returned?” Gax asked feigning concern.

  “No!” Grude thrust his fist down at his side. His son, his only son and heir, had taken his request and shat on it. “That ungrateful wim—” He stopped himself short. “No. He has not returned.” He began to walk around them, still speaking. “He has seemingly decided to roam the land, and has neglected his one last task to prove his loyalty to me. He has decided not to act as my dutiful son, as was expected and as he was told.” Grude spat as he strutted.

  The brothers stood straight at attention. “You two, however, have managed to impress me”—Grude wiped the saliva from his chin—"and have proven your worth. We’ll have a celebration tonight to recognize your accomplishments,” he continued. “And then tomorrow we’ll prepare what’s necessary to bring the WynSprigns here.”