Ashes And Spirit (Book 3) (4 page)

It was more than the loss of Anevay, it was the knowledge that if not for his decision to incite a rebellion in Trilene, she would still be here. His actions had killed his bondmate as surely as the bolt from Oksana’s bow. How could he face the lair without her? How could he face Dhovara knowing he had placed her niece in the path of death? How could he face himself in Galdrilene where everything that was left of her life resided? Where it felt as if he would see her everywhere he turned.

Belan followed him. “Kellinar, are you all right?”

“No, I’m not.”

“What is it? Maybe I can help?” Belan reached out and grabbed his arm.

Kellinar yanked away, glaring at the man who was also his friend. He needed to be angry. Angry at the world, angry at someone. If he let the anger go, he’d have to face the pain. “Leave me alone, Belan. This has nothing to do with you so back off.”

“Kellinar,”
came Shryden’s gentle sending.

“No! Shut up, Shryden. I don’t want to hear any platitudes from you either.”

Shryden jumped down from the wall with a roar and stormed across the half-constructed city. Smoke curled from his nostrils as he lowered his head, bending his neck so his forehead almost touched Kellinar’s, forcing him to stumble back a step. The dragon glared down at him with ice-blue eyes.
“Kellinar.”
The force behind the sending nearly brought him to his knees. Several people put their hands to their heads as the sending spilled over.
“You will stop this!”

“I can’t just turn it off, Shryden. It’s my fault she’s dead. Look at what I did and tell me it isn’t.”

Shryden huffed a puff of smoke that enveloped Kellinar briefly before the wind swept it away.
“You are right. Look at what you did. Look around at these buildings rising higher each day. Look around at these people. You did this. All decisions have consequences, both good and bad. There is nothing you can do about it.”
Shryden’s eyes softened and so did his sending,
“I miss them too. I miss Latia. I miss Anevay. I ache with the grief in Taela’s and Paki’s hearts. I weep at the pain in your heart. I love you, Kellinar. You can’t keep hiding the pain under work or anger. We are one; I will help you face it.”

Kellinar sank to his knees and hung his head. The pain, buried for the past three months crashed down and tightened around his chest. He lifted his head as Taela settled next to him, her arms going around him. Kellinar pulled her close, let the tears fall into her hair. One by one, the New Sharrens moved to stand around them, silent yet supportive.

Shryden nudged him.
“We must go soon anyway so Paki can lay her eggs. It is time to say goodbye, time to welcome a new rider, and time to welcome the future.”

After a long moment, Kellinar stood and brushed the dirt from his pants. He looked up at the blue.
“What would I do without you?”

“Not what you should, that is for certain.”

He turned to Belan. “We have to return to Galdrilene for a Hatching. You will be all right while we are gone?”

Belan clasped his shoulder. “We will be fine. Everything is well in hand here. You do what you have to do.”

Kellinar sensed Belan meant more than the words he had spoken. “I will do my best.”

“That is all anyone can ask.” Belan gave his shoulder a squeeze before releasing it. “I must get ready to face the sour Artlia.”

Kellinar tried to smile at Belan’s humor. “Good luck, my friend.”

K
irynn stared down the arrow, focusing on the target beyond. She let it fly. It made a satisfying
thunk
as it landed in the center. Almost three months of training several hours a day showed. Though she had learned the basics of the bow during her training in Boromar, it wasn’t something she mastered. She hadn’t wanted to be an archer, they began battles then fell back, giving the field to those trained in close-quarter techniques. Kirynn never wanted to fall back.

The compact, yet far-reaching bows of Shadereen differed from the cumbersome longbows of Boromar. She would be able to use this one from Syrakynn’s back and also in regular combat until she either ran out of arrows or the enemy got too close, and then swap it for her zahri. Granted, learning to swap the two weapons quickly off her back while not tangling them was an exercise in frustration, but she was getting better.

The weapons master working with her today nodded. “You are doing better. Now, change weapons, the enemy is upon you.”

Kirynn reached over her shoulder with her right hand, pulling the quick release on her zahri. As it dropped, she caught it while tossing the bow over her head to hang across her chest. She yanked to lock it into the clip on the back of her shoulder.

The weapons master attacked. Kirynn swept her zahri up. Her placement of the bow was off and it slid around, tangling in the longer weapon. The flat side of the master’s blade smacked across her chest. He shook his head. “You did not place the bow right and failed to secure it fully in the clip. However, you were quicker this time. Well done.”

“Not quick enough. Don’t offer praise until there is a reason to give it.” This was the first time she’d worked with Mendoc. Like the others, he was too soft, too quick to praise. “If I ‘die,’ there is nothing to say well done about. Don’t insult me. This kind of coddling is for those still in the interim barracks in Boromar. I left those behind long ago.”

Master Mendoc studied her for a long moment. “Very well. Bring your bow to bear again and this time do it in a timely manner.”

Without a word, Kirynn went to work. Many in Shadereen thought she drove herself too hard. In a sense, they were right. It wasn’t without reason though. Reasons that were beyond becoming proficient with a new weapon. She did it to find her emotions again. To feel something.

Trilene was the worst battle she’d ever fought in. Even two bloody years on the front against Kanther hadn’t prepared her for the level of butchery and misery she witnessed. In Boromar, it had been drilled into her that empathy had no place in war, only normal life. They were expected to learn how to shut it off and then reconnect. Students who couldn’t learn this didn’t graduate.

The level of disconnect necessary for the battle at Trilene made it difficult for her to reconnect again. Unlike others who had battled there, the images weren’t burned into her memory. One had to care in order for things to linger.

The Border Guards suffered from nightmares and stress. Shadereen hadn’t been at war with any other nation since it had established its borders five hundred years before. The Border Guards hunted Kojen; the common soldiers dealt with lawbreakers. Never before had they taken human lives or ignored the injured and dying in order to preserve their own lives. Guilt weighed on them as much as anything else did.

Kirynn, however, felt nothing. She had turned dispassionately away from burning children, unarmed men, and women as they were cut down in order to stay focused, to kill as she needed to. Sometimes, she envied the others even with the issues they faced. Boromar turned out unequaled killers, but at what expense? For three months, she’d watched the world move forward and felt nothing.

Kirynn nocked another arrow and sent it flying toward its target. Perhaps if she mastered this, she would feel something. Pride, excitement, anything. Even Syrakynn was unable to help her find her emotions. Mendoc opened his mouth to say something and froze, staring over her shoulder. Kirynn spun, ready for whatever might be coming their way and stopped.

Three of the ladies of Shadereen walked into the training yard. Not only was their presence unexpected, their style of dress was as well. Instead of frilly, ridiculous dresses, they were dressed in leather boots, breaches, and cotton shirts. The elaborate piles of curls normally perched on their heads had been replaced with tight coils at the back of their necks. Kirynn recognized them: Wives of the Council of Seven.

Mendoc frowned, but bowed briefly. “How may I be of assistance, my ladies?”

Lord Mannoc’s wife, Arlenyi, stepped forward. “We wish to learn.”

“Learn what?”

Arlenyi gestured at the various weapons in the training yard. “How to use these.”

“I…” Mendoc stared at the three women then looked at Kirynn as if unsure what to do.

Kirynn shrugged. “Find them some practice swords and someone to teach them what to do. I will continue to practice on my own until you return.”

Mendoc hesitated for a moment before striding from the training yard. Kirynn turned back to the target and sent another arrow flying while the women stood close to each other in silence.

Mendoc returned with a group of other weapon masters. Though noticeably uncomfortable, they all grabbed a variety of wooden practice swords and laid them out on a table for the women. Solen, a weapons master Kirynn had worked with several times, beckoned the women forward. “Come, hold them, get a feel for them, and decide which you want to start with.”

The women approached and stared at the swords. Finally, Arlenyi reached for one and picked it up. Her action seemed to embolden her companions. They too began picking up a sword, testing it, and putting it down and trying a new one.

Kirynn watched from afar. She should have felt something at this odd display. Instead, she felt nothing, although she found it interesting. She went back to swapping weapons while Mendoc berated her slowness.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lord Mannoc’s shout echoed off the stone walls of the open-air training yard. Everyone turned as he stormed across the hard-packed dirt. Kirynn narrowed her eyes at him. Whether or not she felt anything, Shadereen had agreed to Dragon Law, and it was her duty to uphold it.

“They said they wanted to learn,” Mendoc said and shifted under the glare of Lord Mannoc.

Mannoc turned to his wife. “What in the name of the Fates do you think you are doing down here dressed like that, Arlenyi? And attempting to learn weapons no less?”

Arlenyi wilted in the face of his anger. “We just wanted to learn, and I doubt it can be done in a dress.”

“You,” he pointed his finger at her face, “will take yourself back inside the keep and put on appropriate clothing this instant, and I will never hear of this learning weapons again.” His voice became low and menacing, “Do you understand me? You are a woman, now get inside and start acting like a proper one again.”

Arlenyi took a step back and glanced at her two companions. Both women stared at the ground. Kirynn eased the arrow from the bowstring and gave Mannoc a flat look. “You have no right to stop her or order her around.”

He spun toward her. “I have every right. She is my wife, and I will not have this kind of behavior from her.”

“Husband isn’t synonymous with owner, Mannoc, and the label of wife doesn’t make her less than you. Dragon Law clearly states that anyone can learn anything they wish.” Kirynn glanced at Arlenyi. “However, they do have to actually want it and if they do, while things get settled here, they may have to stand up for themselves to get it.”

Arlenyi stared at her for a long moment before raising her chin, squaring her shoulders, and looking back at her husband. “I will not return to the hold like a ‘proper wife’ as you put it. I have the right to be here, the right to learn, and intend to do so.”