Page 4 of Of Empires and Dust

“Aeson and the others are back then,” Tarmon said as they reached the plateau. He gestured towards where Surin sat on a low bench before the leftmost home. The Craftsmage had been one of the captains sent with Aeson and Erik to clear the northern wood of Lorian remnants while Calen and the others took forces to clear the south.

As soon as Surin saw Calen and the others, she rose, patting her robes down and collecting herself before approaching and regaling Calen with a full account of what had happened with Aeson and the forces sent to the northern wood. Calen caredlittle for what came after the words ‘no casualties’, but he let Surin continue.

“Thank you, Surin. It’s good to hear nobody was lost.”

Appearing to sense Calen’s desire to press onwards, Surin bowed deeply. “On your leave, Warden.”

The woman turned, picked up a journal and pen she’d left on the bench, and stepped inside the house.

“The Warden of Varyn,” Tarmon said, giving a downturn of his lip. “It’s a powerful title.”

“Hmm.” Calen shook his head. Surin, Ingvat, and the other rebels from Berona had taken to the name over the past months, but in the wake of the battle, it seemed to be spreading.

“Whether you like it or not, let them have it. Legends are powerful. Not just for those who fight at our side, but for those who would stand against us. Fear wins more battles than steel. And fighting against the Warden of Varyn, who rides into battle on dragonback, could strike fear into the hearts of many.”

The thought didn’t comfort Calen.

“I feel a new poem coming on,” Dann said, stroking his chin. “The Warden of Varyn, his name is not Karin. He—Argh!”

A swift slap to the back of his head from Tarmon cut Dann short.

“What was that for?”

Tarmon raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. “Hmm.”

“You’re just jealous of how quickly I found a word to rhyme with Varyn.”

“Marin.”

“Well, you’ve had some time to?—”

“Barren, heron, faren, zarin.”

“That last one’s not even a word.”

“It means ‘gold’ in Ardanian.”

“Since when do you speak Ardanian? You can barely speak the Common Tongue.”

“I’m going to check on Ella,” Calen said, cutting across Dann and Tarmon.

The mood changed at the mention of Ella’s name, and the emerging smiles on Dann and Tarmon’s faces melted away. Even Lyrei shifted uncomfortably, meeting Calen’s gaze for a fleeting moment.

Tarmon gave a sombre nod. “I’ll check on Valerys, make sure he’s fed and looked after, and get a briefing from Erik. I’ll find you in the Eyrie later. I heard Dann say something about mead.” He grasped Calen’s forearm, staring into his eyes for a long moment. “Suffering alone serves no one. Remember that.”

As Tarmon left, Dann leaned in closer. “Do you want me to come?”

Calen shook his head.

“Well, that’s awkward because the mead is in my room… which is in that house… because that’s where we sleep.”

Calen shook his head and pulled Dann into an embrace, their armour clinking as he squeezed him tight. Calen’s breath caught in his chest, a sudden wave of sadness washing over him. “I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”

“My clothes are in there too. I can’t walk around in this armour all day.” A smile spread across Dann’s face, and he grasped Calen’s shoulders. “Go. Lyrei and I will see if we can find us some more mead, keep the supply in my room for a rainy day.” He looked down at the white dragon on his breastplate. “I’m pretty sure I’ll get a better price with this on anyway.”

As Dann made to leave, he turned once more and met Calen’s stare. “She’ll be all right, Calen. Ella’s just like you. All of you Bryers. You’re harder to get rid of than weeds.”

Calen nodded in return, barely managing to muster a brittle smile as Dann and Lyrei made their way back up towards the archway that led to the main city.

---