Page 33 of The Ivory King

My eyes flared. “I know not what you mean!”

“I have eyes. They may be weak but they see the devotion betwixt you and he. Do not let your duty override your heart or you shall live a life of sadness.”

I thumbed some hair from my face, the tickle of a cool breeze on my neck welcomed in this warm little hut. The small window behind us let in the sound of the lapping waters and a few lonely toads.

“If only it was that easy, my lady.”

She released my forearm, gave my biceps a pat, and smiled sadly at me. “Nothing in our lives worth having is ever easy, my lord.”

Unsure of how to thank her enough for her guidance—I’d never had a feminine figure to interact with as a child—I moved in to place my right hand on her left shoulder. A small touch, not an embrace as she was not kin, but a kindness returned. I thought to say something warm and personal.

I opened my mouth to reply when Lady Hythra fell into me with a grunt. I grasped her to me, spying a dagger buried in her neck as she went slack in my arms. I jerked to the side as Tezen shouted, “To arms!” and darted toward me.

Another blade flew into the hut, slicing my cheek as I twisted downward to place Lady Hythra’s limp form on the floor. Warm, thick blood coated my shirt as her life essence spurted from her. I heard shouts as the others in the house came awake. A hand dropped to my shoulder, easing me from the dead woman and guiding me under the table where just a moment ago, we’d been making breakfast.

My sight found Beiro, his green eyes growing damp as he looked at his grandmother bleeding out in front of us. His ginger head bowed to her unmoving chest.

“Guard him with your life!” Pasil bellowed as chaos erupted around us. Doors flew open, shouts filled the cool night air, and warning horns echoed off the lake. I threw an arm around our guide, turning him from the body lying by our thighs.

“She was a kind woman with noble bearing,” I whispered, then darted out from under the table where I collided with V’alor backing into us, his shield coming up in a blur of silver to deflect an arrow.

His dark eyes flew to me, sleep still clinging to his face. “Get to safety!”

“I am safest next to you!” I replied, spinning on my heel as a dark figure slid in through the window. Thavus was already outside, his roars to his people bouncing off the icy cold lake. The poor man, not knowing his wife lay dead just six steps behind me.

V’alor shook his head and shoved me into Beiro, who was scrambling to get to me. “Get him to the horses! Ride south to Celinthe!”

“No! I will not leave you!” I yelled at V’alor, but Beiro was already shoving me toward the bedroom V’alor had just left. Pasil swooped down on me, pulling me around the table with the dough and fish, shoving me along as I battled to return to V’alor.

“We are leaving, my lord,” Pasil barked, pushing me into a small room with a tousled bed. “They will catch up. Now, my lord, we must go!”

Beiro climbed through the window with his bow and quiver, his cheeks wet, and pulled me closer even as I battled. The two of them manhandled me along, my feet tangling, as men and women fought against wraiths. I managed to grab my arrows and bow before I was shoved like a sack of lemons out the window into sheer bedlam.

I had no clue how many of the hired killers had descended on the small village, but enough to cause alarm. Or perhaps there were only a handful, but the shock of the attack had stirred the villagers to blind panic. Whatever the case, the fisherfolk were no match for trained assassins, of that I was sure. We ran to the stable, our horses nervous in their stalls. Pasil hoisted me onto Atriel’s bare back. I clutched her mane tightly, laid down close to her neck, and nudged her sides. We raced out of the tiny stables, a dapple mare, a gray gelding, and a golden mare, side by side.

A gray-cloaked form leaped from an overturned cart. Pasil beheaded the assassin in one swipe, his sword glinting in the moon’s light as we thundered along the shore of Lake Tolso. Water sprayed up over my bare feet as the horses galloped through wet rocks and foam.

I glanced back to see if V’alor and Tezen were coming up behind, but I saw naught except for round huts, a crystalline lake, and two moons gilding the water’s surface. Then the Glotte woodlands enveloped us even as tears streaked down my face as I recalled the great loss of a fine and noble elven lady. Even though I had just met her, Lady Hythra would remain with me always. As would all the brave people who had taken us in at great risk to their own safety.

I whispered a prayer to Ihdos that V’alor and Tezen would rejoin us soon. I vowed that when I next saw him, I wouldnotallow his honor to push us apart ever again.

WE RODE FOR TWO DAYS, PAUSING ONLY LONG ENOUGHto rest the horses. Always on guard, always tense, always checking the woods for attackers or signs of V’alor and Tezen. When the third day dawned foggy and gray and there had been no sight of our comrades, I had informed Pasil that we were heading back to find them. He had said no. I then commanded him. He still denied me. I flew into a rage fitting Umeris and many things unfitting an elf of my standing fell from my mouth. Pasil stood firm, his sight on me as I stalked about, kicking at ferns until I had vented fully. Beiro had watched from amongst the horses, his mood somber still. Without a word more spoken, I leaped onto Atriel’s back, sour and despondent, and turned her toward the outskirts of Aarmal.

We’d not ventured into the town of Tolso. The woods would be safer, our guide had mumbled. Trees did not whisper to shadowy figures with coin to spend. Beiro might not be educated, but he had great wisdom. Celinthe was within four days if we rode hard and so we did. My heart was heavy with worry, my cheek sore from an assassin’s blade. We’d not had the time during the attack at the lake to grab our packs. We were lucky that we had our weapons to hand, so any healing droughts were not available. I’d not fallen sick, so perhaps the blades had not been dipped in poison. I rode on with my two protectors, checking steadily behind us for V’alor and Tezen. With each daythat passed, my worry grew exponentially. If my love lie dead in some remote fishing village, I would surely die myself…

“My lord, look,” Beiro called as he slowed his gray steed on the edge of a shifting corn field, a strong wind carrying a rich floral aroma blew down the sides of the Witherhorn Mountains. We sat at the bottom of a steppe, one of perhaps two hundred, upon which thick fields of purple flowers grew. “We have reached the Lavender Steppes.”

I inhaled deeply, the soothing scent of lavender filling my lungs, easing away some of the tension that rode with us like a ghoulish companion.

“It is lovely,” I whispered as I looked higher and higher until my eyes touched on the Temple of Celinthe where my future bride awaited.

“The sisters grow the lavender then sell it to the realm,” Pasil said as he rode up beside us, his face coated with grime and dried blood. His black hair was lank and his eyes showed his exhaustion. “The lavender is used in many poultices, perfumes, and teas.”

I nodded. I knew all of this. My tutors had ensured I knew where Renedith imported its goods to and from. My sight was locked on the tall tower that looked down on the purple steppes and the fog that lay low in the valley burned off higher to allow the spire to glow bright white as if it were a beacon. As we rode ahead, we passed through a shimmering veil of holy energy, a protective magical shield that sheltered the shrine and the sisters from any who were not pure of heart. The Eye of Ihdos, the mystical dome was called, and the magicks that powered it were as old as the god himself. It was proclaimed to stun those with dark hearts who may try to tread holy ground. Bracing myself as we rode through the nearly invisible cloak, I sighed in relief when I passed through unharmed. Perhaps myprogressive views were not as blasphemous as the elder clerics in Renedith claimed.

“They have a rookery at the temple,” I murmured, eager to see if any news from my grandfather had come in while we had traveled. Perhaps another had been chosen and I would be free to return to Renedith and live with V’alor as my consort. If he even lived…

“They do, yes, and I am sure your betrothed will be happy to show it to you,” Pasil replied with far more courtesy than I had shown him these past days.

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