Season of Glory (6 page)

A desert breeze blew then, fanning the flames of the dying campfire and sending sparks
swirling into the sky to meld with the stars. Niero's words washed over me and through
me, and I felt a curious sense of healing to my heart, my ego. A renewal, of sorts.

What was it about Niero, our captain, that made me feel so at ease? How did he speak
to my deepest needs and address my weaknesses, all the while calling me to more?
He was like no man I'd ever met before, except maybe our trainer. Did it just come
from living in Community all his life? What was it about him that made him so . .
. different?

Something niggled at my memory, but then it was lost to me. I rose and clasped arms
with him. “Thank you, Raniero. I'll consider your words. Keep close watch.”

“I shall.”

I made my way over to my bedroll, settled down beside Dri, and was just thinking
that I didn't ache so much now, from any of my wounds, when I gave in to sleep's
siren call.

CHAPTER
5

KEALLACH

I
sat straight up in bed, just as the sun tinged the cloudy sky a deep coral. There
was
one
thought in my mind. Why had Ronan been brought to the Council chambers at all? And
why Andriana? What business had the Six had, calling her to them, there, without
my permission? I threw aside my covers and strode out of my room barefoot, clad in
nothing but my long nightshirt, and startled two sleepy guards outside.

“My-my lord?” stammered the first guard. But I ignored him.

I walked down the hall and turned the corner into the next, which ended in the Council
chambers, a grand room with towering ceilings and paintings all about. My eyes scanned
the perimeter. On the far wall, where the two-story windows were, work had already
begun to replace the priceless, rare glass. Consequently, the room held the morning's
chill, and I rubbed my hands together to warm them. I looked to the front of the
room, where the Council chairs sat in a row, then to the guards who had followed
me.

“Tell me what happened the night Lord Jala was injured.”

The two looked at each other then back to me. “We were of course with you, Majesty,
on your journey,” said one.

“I know that,” I said irritably, waving a hand. “But guards talk. What have you heard
about that night from those who were here?”

The two shared a brief look of consternation and then one of them stepped forward.
“The Council summoned Andriana to the chambers, here. Her Knight, Ronan, was held
in the antechamber. As were her parents.”

“Her
p-parents
,” I sputtered. “Andriana's
parents
. They are
alive
? They were here?”

“Yes, my lord,” the guard said, shifting uncomfortably in light of my apparent lack
of knowledge.

My eyes tracked left and right across the fine speckles of the smooth terrazzo floor
then back to my guards. “Why were they all in the Council chambers, together? Why
was Andriana brought before the Council at all?”

The guard's mouth opened as if to speak then abruptly closed when he caught sight
of something over my shoulder.

“Because they wished to secure Andriana's agreement to your union,” Sethos said,
striding through the door, fully dressed. “And offer the opportunity for her parents
to bless that union, of course,” he added.

My eyes narrowed. I did not appreciate him butting in. “That is false,” I said. “Tell
me the truth.”

“It is the truth, Majesty. Wouldn't it be your heart's desire to have a woman by
your side like Andriana? We knew that, given her ties to the Valley, she'd do best
with some sort of familiar support, so I had them brought here.”

“Without my knowledge.”

“You have far too much to consider each day already, Majesty. The Council and I wished
to ease your burdens. If it had all worked as we wished, wouldn't it have been the
culmination of all we'd dreamed about?” He turned to the guards. “Step outside and
close the door, please.”

“No,” I said through gritted teeth, as they turned to go. “Remain here.” The two
resumed their positions.

“Keallach, really,” Sethos complained. “Isn't this a conversation best left for—”

“Andriana believed her parents had been killed by the Sheolites. Have you had them
in custody all this time?”

“I have. I assumed that at some point they would prove useful.”

“Useful. As in, you could threaten them in order to force her agreement.”

“Certainly not,” he sniffed. “You speak of the woman you wished to be empress. I
did not wish to harm her, only help in wooing her to your side.”

I swallowed, disliking the past tense of his wording. “If you did not intend to force
her hand, why was Ronan brought up from the dungeon?”

Sethos was silent.

I stepped toward him. “If you intended only good for Andriana's parents, why keep
them in the dungeon? And why would you not inform me? I assume they've been here
ever since the night of our Call?”

His lips formed a line, his eyes moving quickly, clearly thinking. “Our entire goal
was to support you, Keallach. To see your vision fulfilled. And when the Council
and I knew you felt something for the girl, we wanted it all the more, and we were
willing to take extraordinary measures to accomplish your union.”

I shook my head and let out a long breath of exasperation.
Extraordinary measures.
I could well imagine what that meant.

“To have brought together the empire and the Trading Union through a symbolic marriage,”
he went on, “would have saved countless months of effort and probably many lives.
There would likely have been half the conflict we expect now, what with followers
of the Way daring to gather
publicly
.” He sniffed and gazed at me down his long,
straight nose. “They are a rapidly growing force to be reckoned with, Majesty. And
they are a closed-minded, stubborn lot,” he added. “Thoroughly opposed to us ruling
them. Do you not see? Your marriage to Andriana would have gone a long way to resolving
all of that. We simply intended to aid you in any way we could.”

I sighed and studied the floor again. I could see the wormlike marks of a recent
mop, but there . . . I crouched and licked a finger and rubbed it across a dark brown
spot. When I looked at my finger, what I saw was plainly blood. Out here. Far away
from where Maximillian had likely been injured. I looked to my guards. “How many
died here?”

“Seven guards, Majesty, and Lord Broderick, of course,” one of the guards answered.
“As well as Lady Andriana's father.”

“No,” Sethos said, shaking his head and drawing closer. “He faked his own death.
Part of an elaborate scheme with Cyrus and Ronan.”

“He had to fake his own death? So they
were
threatening him.”

“For reasons I already described,” he said with another sniff. “But then Ronan and
her father came up with their clever ploy, surprised the guards and the Council,
and made their escape.”

I frowned. There were pieces missing to this puzzle. But Sethos hadn't been here.
He'd been with me. I thought of awakening the Council and grilling them, but I didn't
entirely trust them. “Did any guards survive the attack?” I asked. “Anyone who was
in this room through the entire meeting?”

The guard shook his head. “No, Majesty.”

I sighed, crossed my arms, and looked to the ceiling. “And Ronan. Tell me why they
brought Ronan up from the dungeon.”

“As a last resort,” Sethos said idly. “Maximillian thought that if all else failed
they could barter her agreement to your union in exchange for Ronan's freedom.”

I groaned and shook my head. “Why? Why could they not allow it all to unfold as it
was? I was making headway with her, Sethos. I know I was.”

He stared at me sadly. “Unfortunately, we were running out of time. Their power grows,
Keallach. And so does their following. Exponentially. If we do not quell their uprising
soon, they will likely disrupt trade imports, and if they somehow manage to draw
the Trading Union into an actual
union
, they could represent a threat to Pacifica.
Your dreams of an empire? Gone.”

I scoffed at the thought. I knew they were gathering followers, but none of power.
“Whom have they drawn to date? Some Drifters? The northern rebels, the Aravanders?”

“So far,” Sethos said, steepling his fingers and turning toward the window, thinking.
“But the draw of the Way is powerful, as you know yourself. The Remnants, together
. . . and now with your brother among them . . .”

His mention of my brother among the Remnants shot a dark arrow of jealousy and hatred
through me. I clenched my fists. “Let us go to the war room,” I said, striding toward
the door. “And summon my Council,” I bit out. “I want to know everything.
Now
.”

ANDRIANA

We were almost across the Great Expanse when we saw the drone turn in a broad arc,
as if it had caught sight of us. The
Jeep pulled to an abrupt halt. “Get out!” the
driver screeched. “Out, now! Hide over there, among the boulders!”

Niero lifted his chin in agreement. “Everybody out. Fast.”

As soon as the last of us were out, the Jeep surged into motion again, out across
a shallow, sandy, desolate valley. We could already hear the whirr of the approaching
bird's propellers.

We scrambled to find the nearest hiding places wherever we could. Vidar edged under
a thorny bush. The others went for the big, round boulders and crevices. Bellona
covered her exposed legs with sand.

“Dri,” Ronan said from somewhere nearby. “You clear? Out of view?”

“Yes,” I said, pulling my shoulder in a bit more.

“Everyone be still,” Niero said.

The bird buzzed over us, circled, and then returned. It seemed to be hovering above
us, searching, moving a few paces, and then scanning the ground below further. My
heart pounded, remembering how close the drone had come to me at the river near the
Aravander camp . . . and what followed. Would they spot some detail that would bring
Pacifican soldiers after us again? I couldn't be captured again. Not after we'd
come so far.

Home
, I thought.
I just want to be home. In the Valley.
To rest. Recover. Before
taking on the next fight.
Please, Maker,
I prayed.
Protect us. Shield us.

After several long, agonizing moments, the bird flew off. Gradually, we all emerged.
It was with some relief that we saw it followed the dusty plume of the Jeep, now
in the distance, rather than returning to Pacifica. With any luck, we hadn't been
discovered.

“They'll think our driver is a Drifter,” Vidar said, half in admiration of the smugglers.
“That's why he changed into those clothes. And with such meager cargo, even if they
detain him, they'll have no reason to arrest him.”

“Think he'll return for us?” Bellona asked with little hope.

“I think we're more likely in for a long walk,” Niero said.

“Hey, but we're more than halfway,” Vidar said cheerfully.

We all turned doleful eyes toward him.

“It's better than a quarter, right?” he said.

“We'll spend the afternoon in the shade,” Niero said, “preserving our energy and
not getting too dehydrated. We'll walk when night falls.”

CHAPTER
6

ANDRIANA

W
e circumvented Castle Vega by a wide margin to the north, and then Zanzibar a couple
of
days
later. I practically started running when we crossed the river that led toward home.
Recognizing it, we picked up our pace. We knew that by nightfall we'd surely reach
the mouth of our valley. A fine mist had covered us since morning—and I welcomed
it. After so long a time in the desert, the smell of water on my skin and leather
made my heart sing. But it did make the dirt a bit heavier to plod through, which
slowed our progress.

As we passed the first pines, I reached up and ran my hand through the long needles,
inhaling their scent as we walked. Even that seemed to strengthen me, giving me the
will to continue to put one foot in front of the other though I was so very weary.
I remembered the last time we'd returned here and how I'd slept for most of two days
and awakened to learn of my
parents' disappearance. I glanced ahead to them, saw
Dad's arm around Mom, and shivered.

Ronan edged nearer and interlaced his fingers with mine. We brought up the rear of
our party, and in the gathering dark, no one was likely to see us. “Smells like home,”
he whispered.

I smiled at him. Between the scent of his damp coat and the trees, if I closed my
eyes, we might have been three years in the past, waiting for our trainer to arrive.
And in that one action—taking my hand—I felt as if he'd chosen to believe me, forgive
me, trust me again, regardless of what Chaza'el had foreseen. Regardless of what
I had allowed to happen with Keallach.

Ronan tightened his grip on my hand. “What is it?” he asked, pulling me closer to
whisper, his dark brows knitting together.

Belatedly, I understood that, through our touch, he'd felt what I had, in thinking
of Keallach. I'd cast my emotions into him. This time, guilt. “What?” I said, hoping
not to get into it.

He waited me out, refusing to let me go.

“I was just thinking how good your hand felt in mine,” I finally admitted, “and how
I'm glad you are not Keallach.”

He leaned close to whisper, “It feels good to touch you again.” Then he took the
lead on the narrower trail as we entered deeper forest, still holding my hand. Seconds
later, he whirled and grabbed my waist, pulling me into the brush. “We're not alone,”
he growled to Vidar, who had paused just ahead. “Sense anything?”