The Ippos King: Wraith Kings Book Three

by Draven, Grace

  He pretended to consider. “Well...you did fight a giant scarpatine for me.” He yelped when her claws dug into his flank. He abandoned the teasing. “I love you with all that I am and for all the days of our existence, firefly woman.”

  Her pointed teeth gleamed white in the growing darkness and her embrace tightened as if she would meld him to her. “Then for gods' sake, man, shut up and prove it.”

  Serovek laughed and set about doing just that.

  Epilogue

  So may it remain.

  Anhuset stood atop the berm that encircled Saggara's training yard for its soldiers and watched the sun break the horizon toward dawn. Behind her the manor house and its bailey buzzed with activity and sound as those who'd attended the celebration of sha-Anhuset's marriage to the human margrave of High Salure continued with their revelry into the coming daylight hours, even after the guests of honor had taken their leave. The training yard itself was empty, offering her a quiet place to recall the hours she'd spent there in practice melées, training both newly minted Kai soldiers and veterans alike. Her favorite memories were of the mock combats with Brishen, even the grimmer ones where she'd helped him relearn how to wield ax and sword as a partially blind fighter.

  She had no true regrets at leaving Saggara to live at High Salure. She'd miss its rhythm, its silent voice, but that had already begun to change with the influx of displaced Kai from Haradis and Saggara's renewed role as the kingdom's capital. The training yard, though, was still the same. She'd miss it even though she was growing comfortable in the yard at High Salure.

  Her marriage to Serovek was a month old, a happy one though she still woke some mornings startled to see the Beladine Stallion sleeping next to her, his features sometimes peaceful in slumber, sometimes scowling as he battled through a dark dream of Megiddo while the ethereal blue light of ancient Kai magic seeped from under his closed eyelids. During those times she'd eased him awake, not with a touch, but with a low-hummed tune she'd learned as a child. He'd still gasp when he woke, but he didn't flail or strike out. She'd envelop him in a tight embrace while he breathed hard and gripped her with desperate hands and shook off the remnants of whatever horrific visions plagued him. He didn't speak about them, and she didn't ask, offering comfort instead with silent affection and the unspoken promise that she'd fight his demons alongside him.

  A light footfall she recognized made her glance over her shoulder to see Brishen crest the berm, looking every bit the regal regent of Bast-Haradis. Unlike her, he wore his finery with ease and had smiled earlier that evening when she clawed at the high collar of her formal tunic and complained of having to wear such nonsense.

  “This is your wedding celebration,” he said. “You can't show up in hunting leathers or armor, cousin.”

  “I don't see why not,” she snapped. “Serovek doesn't care.”

  “You have him so bewitched he wouldn't care if you showed up wearing nothing.”

  Knowing her new husband, he'd wholeheartedly prefer it. Anhuset had kept the thought to herself.

  Brishen came to stand beside her. “I thought I'd find you here.”

  She eyed him askance. “And why is that?”

  “Because I always thought this was your favorite place in Saggara. The gods know you spent many an hour in this training yard bruising and blooding new and experienced soldiers alike. Me included.”

  He wasn't wrong. “I wasn't sure if you'd ever be the same fighter you were before you lost your eye, but you surpassed my expectations. I think you're even better now.” She gave him an approving once-over glance. He'd worn an eye patch this evening in deference to those guests not used to seeing the mutilated socket where his eye had once been.

  Brishen offered her a bow in recognition of her praise. “I had motivation and an excellent mentor.” His features sharpened, and his mouth turned down. “You should know I've spoken with Serovek about his visions of Megiddo and the glow of his eyes. I told him I deal with the same. I think the monk is trying to cross worlds to reach us. To seek help. I just don't know how we can give it.”

  The grim turn of their conversation didn't surprise her. She'd seen the two men sequester themselves in Brishen's private study for an hour or so the previous day. Both had emerged wearing identical expressions of melancholy, regret, and guilt.

  “You have nothing to feel guilty for,” she'd told Serovek after one especially bad dream. “Needs must, and he himself severed Andras's hand to break his grip and allow Brishen to close the gate.”

  Serovek had stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. “I said much the same thing to Andras, who hates us and himself for abandoning Megiddo. My reason knows what you say is true. My soul still won't accept it.” Judging by Brishen's expression now and after his meeting with Saggara, Serovek wasn't alone in his burden.

  “What can you possibly do?” she asked. “You did what you had to do. There are always casualties in war.”

  Brishen shrugged. “You're telling me nothing I don't already know. Still, I think one day soon the four kings will have to meet again and find a way to free Megiddo from his prison.”

  “Serovek's visions are horrific. He doesn't have them as often now that Megiddo is far away in the monastery, thank the gods.”

  “It curdles my spirit to even speak of it.” Brishen gave a small shudder as if to shake off a darkness crawling over him. His features relaxed and he gave her a smile. “This isn't how I wanted to end our visit or how I wanted to say goodbye. I actually came here to tell you your new husband had an especially voracious appetite for the scarpatine pie we served for dinner.” His eye widened with a touch of wonder. “He ate the two he was served and most of Ildiko's with particular relish, even savagery. I knew he liked it but...”

  Anhuset snorted. She'd witnessed Serovek's concentration on the Kai delicacy. It was no secret that he liked a dish even many Kai abhorred. She suspected his gusto for it now had more to do with symbolic revenge than culinary preference. “Expect such enthusiasm in the future every time you serve one to him.”

  She changed the subject, pivoting to point at the activity in the bailey. Horses being saddled, oxen and mules hooked to their traces in preparation for pulling wagons loaded tall with goods. “You were too generous with this dowry you've given,” she told Brishen, frowning.

  He sniffed. “Hardly. You're my cousin, my friend, and at one time, my sha. I won't have it gossiped about the entire kingdom that the Khaskem was a skinflint with his relatives.”

  Anhuset wasn't sure she deserved such munificence from him. She didn't at all regret marrying the man she loved, but she battled her own guilt at deserting the man she'd grown up with and served all her adult years.

  Brishen had always been very good at reading her, and that particular talent didn't fail him now. “What's wrong? I sensed you were troubled the moment you rode through the gates.”

  Never one to mince words, she came to the point. “Do you think me disloyal?”

  His eyebrows arched in surprise. “What?”

  This was harder than she anticipated. “I surrendered my role as your sha, packed my possessions, and will leave Saggara to live permanently at High Salure, even though Serovek has willingly offered for us to live apart and take turns visiting. That isn't the marriage I want, but I must abandon you to embrace the one I do want. Am I selfish? Disloyal?” She'd asked these questions of herself numerous times since she left Timsiora as Serovek's wife. She'd considered asking Serovek but knew he'd instantly come to her defense, not in the least objective in his opinion on the matter.

  Brishen sighed. “Considering it was I who suggested the marriage in the first place, no, I never thought your loyalty to me was in question. I'm pleased beyond words for you. Serovek is an exceptional human. He'd have to be to deserve you.”

  She blushed at his praise, relieved by his words but still unconvinced. “I can't help but feel as if I'm abandoning my post, abandoning you, abandoning the royal house of Khaskem entirely.”

&nb
sp; He stared at her without replying, finally coming to some inner decision about what to say. His quick glance around them to make sure they were still alone on the berm told her whatever it was, it remained between the two of them. “Because it would take an act of the gods to make you reveal a secret, I'm going to tell you something. Something only Ildiko knows until now.” He exhaled a slow breath as if bracing himself.

  “Good gods, Brishen,” she said. “What is it?” She kept one of the darkest secrets of all for him—the knowledge he'd stripped the Kai of their magic in order to save them. Surely, this couldn't be worse than that.

  Brishen held up a hand, silently asking for her patience. “When everyone thought my line had died in the fall of Haradis and before I was crowned king, Ildiko came to me. She, more than I, has always understood court machinations, whether they're human or Kai. She understood immediately what it meant for the two of us when I took the crown. She was an able regent while I was away fighting the galla, especially with you standing behind her.” Anhuset didn't think her support had that much impact but agreed that Ildiko had done a more than capable job of holding the Kai kingdom together while her husband was away fighting the galla.

  He continued. “But her role was temporary, or so the Kai people assumed. A regent until I returned to Saggara. They accepted her as such for that time frame. But they would never accept her as queen consort.” Resentment over that fact flitted across his features. “She is and will always be human, no matter how fluent she becomes in our language, how quickly she absorbs our culture, or how much Tarawin thinks of her as her mother. Ildiko will never bear me children, and even if it were possible, no Kai would consider a half human, half Kai child a fit heir to the throne.”

  The inability of the very rare Kai and human couple to bear children wasn't unknown. Like Ildiko, Anhuset couldn't give Serovek a child. He'd been quick to assure her such a thing didn't matter to him. She believed him. Had it mattered to Brishen? Considering his change of status after the rest of his family died in Haradis, carrying the line would become of utmost importance. “Did you suggest the marriage be annulled?”

  He scowled. “No, she did.” A kind of melancholy humor replaced his scowl. “She even had her replacement picked out for me. I told her I would abdicate in order to keep her.”

  Anhuset gasped. She'd known none of this during those dark, desperate days. She hadn't even sensed it. Brishen and Ildiko had been somber, worried, fearful—just like everyone else. A marriage in jeopardy was a small thing compared to a kingdom in jeopardy, though the failure of this marriage would have had far-reaching consequences. And abdication to save it even more so.

  Brishen offered her a brief smile lacking any amusement. “Ildiko was beside herself, afraid of civil war breaking out as the remaining noble families would fight each other for the throne. As fate would have it, Tarawin survived.” He closed his eye for a moment. When he opened it again, its yellow depths swirled with emotion. “I owe those who brought her safely to Saggara a debt of gratitude I won't be able to repay in ten lifetimes.”

  “My gods, herceges,” she said. “Abdication? Tell me you searched for another way.”

  He didn't even flinch, and a resolute hardness settled over his features. “I knew the risk of civil war, knew the monumental struggle Bast-Haradis would have to endure to recover from the destruction the galla visited on it. I had contingent plans and fail-safes and capable ministers in place to hopefully ease the transition of power, but even if I hadn't, even if Tarawin had died with her parents and siblings at Haradis, I would have still abdicated.” His face looked carved from rock. “There are those who, if they knew what I just told you, would say I'm not to fit to rule as either king or regent because I didn't put the kingdom first. You may well think so yourself. Unlike me, the woman whom no Kai would accept as queen put the kingdom of Bast-Haradis first. I suffer no guilt, no regrets. I will give up my life for Bast-Haradis. I will never give up Ildiko for anyone or anything. Now ask me again if I think you disloyal.”

  His revelation had thrown her over a cliff, and for the moment Anhuset was still in free-fall, grappling with her changing notions of what loyalty meant, what duty demanded, what love inspired and what one would sacrifice in the service of all three. Her admiration for Brishen didn't change, though her admiration for Ildiko grew by leaps and bounds. Faced with similar circumstances, would she be willing to give up Serovek for a greater good?

  Brishen stayed silent as she worked through the cascade of thoughts and questions, ready to face whatever condemnation she might rain down on his head for what he perceived as a failure in his role as regent. Anhuset did none of that. Instead, she bowed low and saluted him, not as a vassal to her liege but as one Kai warrior to another after a battle won. “Thank you, Brishen,” she said, infusing her voice with all the affection she held for him. “This is why you were certain the marriage between me and Serovek would convince the king his margrave was no longer a threat.”

  His shoulders sagged for a moment and his grin held an obvious relief. “Partly, though I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't believe you already in love with the man or if I thought him unworthy of you.”

  “I understand better now why you love your wife.”

  “And why I think she's beautiful?” He winked.

  Now that she too saw Serovek in a different way, she understood his teasing question. “That too.”

  He reached out to squeeze her arm. “You may no longer carry the title, but you will always be sha-Anhuset, and Saggara will always welcome you for however long you wish to stay. Besides, I want you back here in the summer to train our newest recruits, so talk Serovek into giving you up for a week or two.”

  Footsteps warned them they were no longer alone, and Serovek topped the berm, dressed for departure in cloak and gloves. His glance darted between Brishen and Anhuset. “Tell me now if I'm interrupting so I can stay longer and make a nuisance of myself.”

  Brishen laughed. He gripped Serovek's forearm in both greeting and farewell. “I'll leave you two alone and meet you in the bailey when you're ready to leave.” He offered him and Anhuset a short bow. “Margrave. Margravina.”

  “Your Highness,” they replied in unison and watched as he strode down the embankment toward the bailey.

  “I like the way he said that,” Serovek said.

  “Said what?”

  “Margravina.” Serovek slipped an arm around her waist to draw her to him. The rising sun cast a red patina on his dark hair. He'd shaved his beard off when they returned to High Salure, revealing once more the refinement of his features, with his elegant jawline and the slant of his mouth when he smiled.

  “It's taken some getting used to,” she admitted. During her first week at High Salure, everyone there must have thought her hard of hearing because she'd ignored them when they addressed her by the title.

  “You carry it easily,” Serovek assured her.

  “That's because you haven't forced me into hosting fluttery human women at social gatherings where the brutality of pouring tea and making small talk will surely be the death of me.” She stroked his back through his cloak, admiring the play of muscle under her palms, even through the fabric.

  He laughed. “We'll have to face that at some point. No getting around it, but I'll be at your side, protecting you from the vapid and the stupid.”

  “My hero,” she said, both mocking and serious.

  He planted a hard kiss on her mouth before saying “Always. Until then, we'll leave it to the new steward to field the occasional unexpected visit from a curious neighbor. She seems a capable sort, good with accounts. Quiet but unflappable when it matters most. I'd much rather have you in my training yard demonstrating to my troops how a Kai can use their sorry arses to mop the cobblestones.”

  Wary of bringing any more overly ambitious younger sons of lesser noblemen into High Salure as a replacement steward, the margrave had surprised everyone except Anhuset when he'd given the role not only to a
woman but to a woman of common birth whose father was a merchant in Timsiora and who considered his daughter's new role the pinnacle of all pinnacles. Anhuset had discovered the new steward to be all the things Serovek praised her for and was glad to have her at High Salure. Her husband stood behind his philosophies. He liked strong women, soft or not. “She'll be busy enough cataloging the entire village's worth of goods Brishen decided was my dowry.”

  He nodded. “A generous man, the Khaskem.” He caressed her hair, twirling one of the tiny braids at her temple gently around one finger.

  She captured his wrist and tugged at the ribbon still tied there, more frayed then ever. “This will fall off soon,” she said.

  Serovek shrugged. He slid a hand into her hair to where another newer, whiter ribbon lay hidden. He'd woven it there himself when, after returning to High Salure, he'd presented her with a small box filled with many white ribbons. “Then I'll just take this one to replace it.” He pulled her close. “Are you ready to go home?”

  “I am home.”

  Serovek flinched, even as his arm tightened around her for a moment before going slack.

  She, on the other hand, held him even tighter. “Are you not here beside me?” He nodded, a smile blossoming across his mouth and his deep-water blue eyes turning almost black. “You will always be home, no matter the ground I stand on,” she said.

  The kiss they exchanged stole the breath from her lungs and made her knees tremble.

  Serovek pulled away to cup her face between his hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks. “So may it be,” he said in a reverent voice.

  She hugged him until his back audibly cracked and he grunted, making her grin. “So may it remain.”

  END

  The next novel in the Wraith King series is entitled The Nomas King. Its release date is to be determined.