Epic Of Palins 01 - Dagger Star (34 page)

Josiah looked up into those lovely eyes. They weren’t glaring at him, or sparking with fury. She almost seemed…embarrassed.

There was a flush on her cheeks, and he’d swear that she was more pleased than not. He gave her a careful look. “I enjoy holding you, and when we come together, the way you curl up next to me, I…” He shrugged as best he could. “You look like a kitten. All sated and soft next to me.

Like you are about to start purring.”

She gave him a searching look, as if almost afraid to trust him. His smile widened slowly. “You like it.”

She pursed her lips, pressing him further into the bed, shaking her head in denial. “Don’t call me that in front of other people.”

He bucked his hips up, and knew she could feel him responding to her. “Of course not.”

Her mouth quirked up, and to his delight, the smile spread to her eyes. “I mean it, Josiah. I’ll…”

“What would you hurt, Chosen?” He moved his hips again. “Seems to me you have a use for all the important parts. My face, perhaps?”

She leaned in and kissed him thoroughly, until they both broke it off, breathless and hungry.

“My chest, perhaps?” Josiah asked.

Red moved down, and kissed his chest just above his heart.

Josiah closed his eyes at the touch of her soft lips. He chuckled as he felt her move again. “Or perhaps you’d cut off my—”

Red swallowed him whole.

With a cry, Josiah shattered into sharp shards of wet, hot pleasure.

IT was the camp sounds that woke her.

Red opened her eyes as soon as she roused, but didn’t move. She was wrapped in Josiah’s arms, curled by his side, his breath on her neck.

They were starting to bring the horses out of the barn, to ready them for the journey. Saddles being put on horses blended with the jingle of tack. She could just make out Bethral’s voice talking softly. Probably telling Bessie what they were doing that day. Bethral seemed to feel that the horse should know as much as the rider.

She should be up and about the day.

It was the day, after all. The beginning of the conflict, the start of the battles that would place the Chosen on the throne.

What did it say that she’d rather stay in bed with Josiah?

She sighed softly, not wanting to rouse her goatherder. Now it really started, and they would have to be careful. With no knowledge of who had betrayed them, or what information the enemy had, it would be difficult to make any plans.

As if sensing her unease, Josiah shifted slightly. Red smiled. He’d looked so happy over those tiny leaves, his eyes gleaming bright in the sun.

She withdrew from his grasp slowly, easing off the bed. He was sprawled in the linens, and she made certain that he was well covered against the chill.

Her gear was arranged as she’d left it, and she dressed quickly. She moved quietly, so as not to waken Josiah. Kitten, eh?

It was embarrassing, but it delighted her, warming her heart deep within.

Her weapons strapped on, she paused when she realized that the shard was nowhere to be found.

She looked under the bed, but it was not there. For that matter, she wasn’t sure of the last time she’d seen it. She shrugged. It wasn’t like it was really useful, after all.

Still…

Her gaze drifted back to the bed, where Josiah lay, curled in the bedding. Something clutched deep in her chest.

By the Twelve, she didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to leave this man.

Red stood by the side of the bed, watching Josiah sleep. She leaned over, checking again to make sure the blanket covered his shoulders. She drew in a deep breath, taking in his scent. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she leaned down and let her lips brush his hair.

She took up her boots, and left the tent.

There was work to be done.

EVELYN’S heart raced as she watched the rest of their warriors emerge from the portal. She couldn’t help but shift in the saddle. Her horse shifted as well, tossing its head in protest. She tightened the reins with sweaty palms, and calmed her mount. But she couldn’t control her anxiety.

Red Gloves gave her a glance out of the corner of her eye. “Nervous?”

Evelyn took a deep breath. “Of course.”

Bethral chuckled.

They were watching the portal from a distance as the men came through in formation. Red had insisted on being the first through, and she’d placed herself where she could be seen as they formed up.

They were to ride for Radaback’s Rill. Evelyn had never been to the valley where the stream was located, but it was said to be lovely. Ezren had told her the story of the place. It was nonsense, of course, but still, one had to wonder….

Evelyn took another deep breath, trying to calm herself and focus on what was happening around her.

Bethral sat astride Bessie on the other side of Red, the picture of calm, armored strength. She carried the furled banner, the standard of the Chosen that Ezren had insisted on. Bethral and Bessie stood as one, unmoving, steady as a rock.

Evelyn shifted in the saddle again.

“Try to look a bit more confident, Lady High Priestess,” Red said with a wry smile. “It would help if you didn’t squirm.”

“Five years,” Evelyn said. “Five years, I’ve worked for this. Since the day I rescued Gloriana and took her to Auxter.”

More men came through the portal.

“I’ve used resources, gathered people, all in the hope of restoring sanity to Palins.” Evelyn looked at the Chosen. “I’ve every right to be worried.”

“Waste of energy,” Red said.

“What if no one has answered the call to arms? What if one of the High Barons has betrayed us?” Evelyn took the reins in one hand, and rubbed the other dry on her robes. “Months of planning come down to this hour. How many warriors will be there? Will you have enough warriors to challenge the Regent?”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Bethral answered.

The last of the men came through the portal, and Evelyn closed it with a gesture. Oris came up, wearing a grim smile. “We’re ready, Chosen.”

“Lead the way, Oris,” Red said.

Oris turned his horse, and signaled the men to move. He took the lead, sending out riders as scouts.

“Well, Lady High Priestess, the answers await. Let’s go find out, shall we?” Red urged Beast to a walk.

Evelyn followed. “I’ll pray as we ride.”

“That, too, is a waste of energy,” Red called over her shoulder.

“Still,” Evelyn muttered under her breath, “it can’t hurt.”

The ride was a swift one. Red might not have been worried, but she wasted no time, setting a swift pace to the meeting place. Evelyn said her prayers as they rode, asking the Lord and the Lady for aid in their cause. There had to be enough men, there just had to be. After all the work, the effort, the miracle of finding an adult Chosen…the Gods must be blessing their purpose.

A shout caught her attention, and Evelyn looked up to see Oris at the top of a rise just before them, waving them on. Red and Bethral rode forward, and Evelyn urged her horse to follow. She had to know….

Red and Bethral topped the rise and sat there, looking down into the valley.

Evelyn kicked her horse forward, pushing between Oris and Red. The rise sloped down into a wide valley.

A valley filled with men and horses, wagons and tents.

Evelyn sat frozen in astonishment.

The valley brimmed over, it held so many. Heads were starting to turn their way as their own warriors moved up behind them.

Red Gloves sat on Beast, looking smug.

More movement below, as the word spread like a wave through the crowd. Warriors emerged from their tents, looking in their direction, shading their eyes. Evelyn watched in amazement, not quite daring to believe. Perhaps this was the Regent’s army, and they’d—

“Unfurl the standard,” Red commanded.

Bethral unfurled the cloth, and the standard of a white dagger star on a red background snapped out, fluttering in the breeze.

As the cloth flared out, loud cheers erupted from below, and grew into a roar. Tears filled Evelyn’s eyes as relief swept through her. She could see the men reacting, opening their mouths to bellow a welcome. They pulled their swords, held them over their heads, and hailed the Chosen.

In response, Red stood in her stirrups and drew her sword, holding it over her head to flash in the sun.

The cheers deepened, resounding through the valley.

Evelyn’s breath caught in her chest, and she whispered a quiet prayer of gratitude.

“Well enough.” Red settled back in her saddle and took a deep breath, which made Evelyn believe she hadn’t been as calm as one might think. After sheathing her sword, Red twisted her hair up and donned her helmet. “Let’s be about this, shall we?”

She urged Beast down the rise, and broke into a gallop. Bethral and Evelyn followed, through the camp of cheering men to a command tent in the center of the valley.

“AMAZING,” Lord Fael said as he brought them into the command tent. “And they keep coming. Apparently word has spread like wildfire of the coming of the Chosen.”

“Ezren Storyteller,” Bethral said.

“Probably.” Red looked around as the others gathered about the central table, satisfied with what she saw. “But this means more men that we don’t know, and no one can vouch for.”

“And which one will want to stick a knife in your ribs,” Wolfe of Wyethe offered. Lady Helene sat quietly beside him at the table, dressed sensibly in decent armor. Wolfe’s influence, no doubt.

Red nodded. “So I’ll keep the warriors from Auxter’s farm as my personal guard. I know and trust them.”

“Makes sense,” Fael agreed.

“The Heir is safe and well hidden,” Red told them. “She’s young, but ready to step in if I fall.”

“Let us hope it doesn’t come to that,” Lord Carell said.

Red grinned. “I’d prefer it.” She pulled out one of the maps and spread it before them. “Now, let’s talk troop movements. Lord Fael, Lady Helene, we need to depend on part of your forces to keep Elanore and her army from crawling up our ass.”

“There’s been no movement on her part,” Wolfe offered. “She uses Odium, and they are slow and do not hide their passage.”

“Keep it that way,” Red said. “Stay between her and our rear. That also puts you in a position to reinforce from behind if needed. Now, as to our course. I think that—”

The talk went on for an hour or so, and finally Evelyn stood and shook out her robes.

Red raised her head. “Leaving?”

Evelyn nodded. “I’ve sunset duties at the Church. I need to pass the word to the healers that we are moving. I’ve made arrangements that they will join us in the next few days.”

“That’s not a good idea, Evelyn,” Red said quietly.

“It’s dangerous, I grant you that,” Evelyn said calmly. “But it’s also the last chance to see if there is any gossip or rumor. I will be gone only a few hours.”

“Have a care, Lady High Priestess,” Red warned. “If something happens, there will be no rescue.”

Bethral’s head jerked up at that, a frown on her face. Red glared at her, knowing the signs. “I mean it. This venture is not so secure that I can afford to rescue one at the price of success.”

Bethral held her eyes, then looked away.

“I understand, Chosen.” Evelyn smiled. “But I’ve walked under this threat for five years. One more night makes little difference.” Evelyn looked at the map. “The next shrine you encounter is here.” She pointed it out on the map. “I’ll be there at dawn, with a corps of healers and perhaps more information.”

HE’D lost her. Josiah sighed. She’d left without saying goodbye, and there’d been no word—

“Oh, please,” Ezren scoffed. “You sound like a lovesick lass, abandoned in a tale.”

“There’s been no word,” Josiah pointed out.

“There has been plenty of word,” Ezren responded. “The messengers come on a regular basis.

They are moving into position now; there is no real fighting going on yet.” Ezren got a smug look on his face. “And it would appear that my stories have helped them to gather forces.”

Josiah sighed.

“Your complaint is that there has been no form of personal correspondence,” Ezren continued.

“But they are both warriors, focused on a conflict.”

“Both?” Josiah asked, giving Ezren a look out of the corner of his eye.

“I meant Red Gloves, of course.” Ezren set a candle on the center of the table. “Now, go over this with me again.”

“As you wish.” Josiah moved his chair as far from Ezren as the platform allowed. The goats gathered around him, and settled down at his feet. Kavage and Dapple were chewing their nonexistent cud. Fog sat next to him and leaned against his leg, looking for a good scratch.

Josiah obliged.

“I can feel it when you move away.” Ezren’s gaze was unfocused. “As if it were dancing on my skin.”

“Like a cool breeze after you’ve worked up a sweat?” Josiah said wistfully.

“Exactly so.” Ezren frowned. “I’m sorry. Does it bother you to talk about…?” He waved his hand around in the air.

Josiah paused for a moment, unsure how to answer. Fog put her soft gray head on his knee.

Finally he looked over at the storyteller. “Does it hurt to think your voice may not come back?”

There was a long pause, as Ezren’s eyes glittered. “Very much so.”

Josiah sighed. “It feels as if there is a hole in my chest. I was so used to the power, so used to…”

“As if a part of your heart is gone,” Ezren whispered.

Josiah nodded, and they sat silent for a moment.

Josiah stirred first. “But you need help, and if I don’t teach you, you could kill someone.” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Magic is a force in our world, Ezren. Like the power of a flowing stream, magic is there if you can see and feel it. It can aid, it can harm.”

“Yes, yes…” Ezren focused on the candle. “How do I light it?”

Josiah rolled his eyes, then grinned. “I said the same thing at my lessons.”

Ezren grinned back, his green eyes flashing.

“But you’re dealing with wild magic, Ezren.” Josiah’s smile faded. “It’s the difference between riding an old, tame saddle horse and riding a wild stallion.”