Second Stone (22 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

The wind shoved at her back as Emariya rode to the fjord the next morning. Before them, the gentle morning sunrise left the world awash in shades of bronze and pale, glimmering gold. With the sea still crashing into the coast at her left, the riverbank of the fjord slowly appeared, shrouded in mist before her.

Emariya gasped when resigned forms began to materialize as the fog cleared and they rode closer. Standing shoulder to shoulder, their jaws set with determination, their eyes trying to hide their intrinsic fear, the people of Eltar waited.

Spreading like a sea before them, the men of Eltar and Sheas who’d been encamped at the fjord throughout the trying winter were primed and ready for the fight they’d been waiting for. Muskets had been loaded, and several were trained across the bank, ready for any who dared cross.

Emariya closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she reminded herself that all that mattered was keeping them on opposite banks. If they did not cross, they would not fight. Determinedly, she focused on the task at hand.

“There are more here than I expected.” Garith looked less confident than he had a few hours before.

“Reeve must have gotten my letter and did as we asked. He’s sent everyone from The Rest.” Emariya thought she would have felt more relief at seeing their plan in action, but plan or not, it was her friends and neighbors who stood opposing them on the other bank. “Do you see your father anywhere?”

Garith shook his head. “It’s too dark, and they are too far. I can’t make out any faces.”

Her hopes sank. Garith was right. And if they were too far to see faces, they wouldn’t recognize her, either. If they didn’t recognize her, how could she get them to stand down and follow her? She’d have to get closer than she’d planned.

With trembling fingers, Emariya reached up and began to untie her cloak.

“What are you doing?” Torian asked. “You’ll freeze.”

“They need to see me.” Emariya kept her voice steady and even.

“That doesn’t mean they need to see you half naked.” Her prince frowned.

Emariya smiled and allowed her cloak to drop and pool around her in the saddle. With the cloak out of the way, her brilliant red dress made a bold statement.

Torian and Garith both whistled low. “They’ll definitely see you.” Garith nodded, understanding.

Torian was slow to reach acceptance, but he, too, nodded.

“Where’s Jessa?” Emariya asked as her fingers worked the practical traveling braid out of her hair. They’d sent Jessa to ask Blaine and his father to meet with them.

“Emariya, if battle breaks out…promise me you will get out of the way.”

“I’m not making any promises today, Torian. I’d hate to have to go back on my word.”

His eyes smoldered, a deep ash-gray, heavy with concern.

She took pity on him. “Relax. I don’t intend to bury anyone this day, myself included. Hopefully my dress will be the only red upon the battlefield.”

He forced a half smile.

Emariya lifted her head as hoof beats approached through the throng of soldiers around them. “Uncle,” she greeted Rees Hendel.

Hendel’s eyes lifted in surprise as he took in the sight of her, but he didn’t comment on her appearance. “I’ll give you an hour. And then, my men march. Are we agreed?”

“But if in that hour those on the other bank agree to follow me, you’ll stand down?”

Rees nodded. Behind him, his son said nothing. Emariya tried not to let Blaine’s silence bother her.

Turning her eyes to the frozen fjord, she said, “I need a torch. Lit.”

“Why? It’s light enough,” Blaine said. “This is just a waste of time, anyway. Father, we should just cross and be done with it.”

Emariya turned her head, watching Blaine smirk at her.

Rees Hendel glared at his son. “You’d have me go back on our word? What of honor?”

Yes,
Emariya thought,
what of honor?
Would she still have any of her own when this day ended? She hoped so.

Blaine sighed loudly and rode away. For a moment Emariya thought she’d have to send someone to find her a torch, but then Rink rode up with Jessa right behind him. He waved a torch proudly above his head.

“Blaine…er…Master Hendel said you needed a torch,” Jessa said.

“Perfect. Thank you. I want you both with me.” Emariya leaned forward, supporting herself with her hands on Raina’s withers and swung her leg over. Once on the ground, she handed her filly’s reins to the nearest pair of open hands and waited for her companions to follow her lead.

Her heart thudded nervously in her chest as she shouldered her way through the crowd of soldiers. The anxiety and bloodlust hung tangibly in the air, mixed with the scent of sweat and gunpowder. Her red gown rippled in the wind, whipping around her legs, waving like a bloodied flag.

She was nearly to the front when she heard the command come from the group on the other side of the bank. “Any that cross, cut them down! The soil will not be swallowed by the sea this day!”

Emariya thrust the torch high above her head and pushed through the last of the soldiers on her side.

Garith stood to her right, and Torian clutched her left hand as he lent her his support, as well. Rink took his place beside Garith while Jessa took up the far right.

“My brothers! My neighbors!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, trying to ensure she could be heard over the raging wind. “Will you not welcome me, a daughter of Eltar, home this day?” Her blonde mane whipped wildly behind her, and Emariya prayed it would be enough for them to recognize her.

A chorus of surprise rolled through the men from Eltar. Finally, one voice rose out alone once more. “Our Lady Warren would stand with us in fighting the heathens who stole her father, not against us. Whoever she is, it’s not our Emariya. That’s just another Roth!”

Her heart sank. As if her spirits weren’t low enough, a shout came from behind her.

Blaine commanded in a strong, clear voice, “Soldiers of Sheas! Form up!” What had happened to her hour? Behind her, each man stood at attention while the soldiers of Thalmas surged to her side.

“Move back.” Blaine’s follow-up order took her by surprise. Emariya glanced over and Jessa smiled encouragingly.

“Thalmas, stand down!” Garith commanded and Emariya’s ears heard his command echoed nearby by Commander Plank.

A rumble of heavily armored footsteps created a chorus as the men obediently did as they were told.

Emariya and her four companions now stood alone and vulnerable between the two forces.

“There does not need to be bloodshed here today. Please, come join me.” Emariya didn’t really know how to begin to try and explain the situation to the men before her.

“Your brother sent word you were coming to reinforce us, so why do the Thalmas forces stand with Sheas?” The man who seemed to be in charge stepped forward, glaring at her.

Emariya didn’t recognize him, but she recognized the man who stepped up beside him: Norval, whose wife, Neela, was the Warren’s Rest herb woman.

“Perhaps we should hear her out.” Norval tilted his head toward her ever so slightly. Though his lips didn’t smile, his eyes were warm.

“My brother lied to us all. He, himself, holds my father.”

“Why would Lord Warren do that?” the first man asked, but the rumble of curiosity from the men standing behind him encouraged Emariya to keep going.

“Because he wanted to be Lord Warren, not Lord Warren’s son.” Emariya’s mind raced. How could she convince them? What proof did she have?

“What proof do you have?” Was the man reading her mind?

“Norval was there the day we learned Lord Oren had been imprisoned. We only assumed it was Sheas, but the injured man who gave us the news never actually said Lord Oren was in Sheas,” Garith said from beside her.

“Is that true, Norval?”

“It is.” Norval’s eyes were pained as the truth started to seep in.

“Even if it is true, we’re pledged to the Lord of Warren’s Rest.”

“Come stand with me, and we will rescue my father from Warren’s Rest. He is the rightful Lord. Not my brother. I challenge Reeve’s claim!”

A hush fell over the fjord as her words sank in.

The heat from the torch she still held high made her palms sweat and she shifted her grip, trying to keep it high despite her tiring arms.

Three men from behind Norval and his partner threw down their swords and began to carefully pick their way across the frozen fjord.

Norval spoke again. “I think we can all say we’ve seen Lord Reeve’s power-hungry ways. He’s not been an admirable leader. I, too, will stand behind Lady Warren and am all too happy at the thought of Lord Oren’s return.” He began to urge his fellows to cross the ice.

Hope bubbled inside her. Maybe she wouldn’t need her plan after all.

“Please,” Emariya begged, and tears began to slip down her face. “Come stand with me. Let this end here. If you will stand with me, Sheas will consider a treaty with us and with Thalmas, and Eltar may see peace once again.”

Emariya breathed a sigh of relief as the first of the citizens of Eltar reached their bank. They took up places beside her. Slowly, more and more began to cross, and a victorious smile spread on her lips.

Moments later, her smile was wiped away in horror. Stopping in front of her, the first man to reach her grinned, and in that moment, she saw the murder reflected in his eyes.

“Your brother warned us you might try and double cross us. We’re not buying it.” He lunged at her with a dagger held high, ready to slash down and end her life.

“No!” Rink’s enraged wail cut through the air as he tackled the man to the ground. The boy’s fists pounded at the man’s startled face, one after the other.

The men of Warren’s Rest left on the other bank could only have seen their comrade’s back, blocking their vision of him initiating the attack. Seeing him on the ground, several of them cried out, “Traitor!” and began to rush toward the frozen river.

Torian clutched at her hand, trying to pull her behind him. Her heart lurched as Blaine and Rees simultaneously gave the command and their forces closed in, readying themselves to meet the approaching onslaught.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Emariya didn’t have a moment to lose. She stepped around Rink’s still flailing fists and touched her torch to the ice. Shutting everything else out of her mind, she encouraged the flames. Their answering cheer sang along her spine, the energy coursed through her, and the flames spread rapidly along the ice.

Feeling the pressure of the sudden intense heat, the ice began to crack. Screams and shrieks sliced through the air and the men of Warren’s Rest all scrambled backwards, falling over each other as they looked for solid ground.

Emariya stilled her mind and tried to recall the flames. She didn’t want to burn the ice away too quickly and have anyone fall into the freezing fjord water.

Her head jerked up and she lost all focus when the citizen’s cry met her ears. “Lord Warren!”

The salutation rolled through the men on the opposite bank like a wave.

Fury gripped her. Had her brother come to ensure his will was done?

The torch dropped from her hands, its flame extinguishing in the snow. Her arms hung at her sides, her shoulders thrown back defiantly.

Emariya had no clue what amount of power her brother might possess from his gifts, but it didn’t matter. She was ready for him.

Let him come
, she thought bitterly.
We’ll end this charade now.

Nothing could have prepared her for the image unfolding before her. Leaning against Drea’s neck for support, her father rode through the crowd.

“Father!” Her anguished cry at his obviously weak form ripped from her lips as she ran with abandon onto the ice.

In her haste, she forgot the flames and the weakness she herself had caused.

Several sections of the ice had melted away completely, while other areas cracked into small, unsteady shards. Behind her, Torian clutched at her hand, trying to keep her from crossing.

Tugging away from him, she lurched forward as the ice cracked beneath her feet.

Drea whinnied and took a cautious step onto the ice. Emariya’s eyes met her father’s and then she gasped as her footing gave way and she plunged into the frigid waters while Torian’s frantic shout sounded behind her. She could have turned back, just as Torian was urging her desperately to do, but all she could think of was getting to her father.

The ice, weakened by the flames, was too thin, and Drea plunged into the water with Oren still upon her back. Emariya’s chest constricted as she floundered in the ice-cold water. Her flowing red gown, now waterlogged, tugged her underneath the current. Just before her head went below the surface, Emariya instinctively took a huge breath and held it. She tried to kick her legs, seeking to push herself back upward, but her gown tangled around her feet.

Determined to get to her father, Emariya continued to struggle, refusing to give up. Her frantic fingers brushed against solid muscle, and then someone grabbed her wrist.

As her father tugged her weakly upward, her feet forged their way free of the confines of her gown and she kicked, helping to bring herself out of the water. Her head pushed through and Emariya squinted while gasping in a much-needed breath. Drea’s mane was the first thing she could see to grab, so she did, while her father kept a grip on her other hand.

“Hold on, Em,” her father whispered, pleading with her.

Tears filled her eyes and she nodded. She kept her feet kicking behind her as Drea struggled through the water.

From a far off part of her brain, she registered Torian yelling from the bank. He called her name, begging her not to let go while Garith and Jessa urged Drea on. All she could focus on was the fact that after more than three years, her father was truly there, holding her hand.

She began to shake, trembling from the cold and emotion combined as Drea’s legs found solid ground and then so did her own. Torian’s strong arms enveloped her soaked waist, but Emariya tried to shrug him off, refusing to let go of her father’s hand.

Garith’s voice was in her ear. “Move and let me get him down; I don’t think he can stand on his own.”

Looking up at her father, Emariya could see that Garith was right. Oren’s face was taut over his sunken cheekbones and his eyes were glassy. His lips, parched, cracked, and dry, were pressed into a thin line. Reluctantly, she dropped his hand and let Torian lift her out of Garith’s way.

“You scared me again,” he whispered, pressing his lips against her soaked hair.

“Your hour is up.” Rees Hendel rode over, towering above them on his mount.

Blaine sat on his own mount beside his father. He leaned down as Jessa whispered something in his ear. After clearing his throat, he said, “Father, this is Lord Warren. Lord
Oren
Warren. Perhaps we should give them a few more minutes?”

Emariya thought she saw the barest trace of a smile at the corner of her uncle’s lips as he nodded to his son. “A few minutes. That’s it.”

Oren wobbled against Garith and Emariya launched herself out of Torian’s embrace, putting her arms around her father to help support him.

“I need to address my people. They need to know,” Oren said.

One step at a time, Garith and Emariya helped Oren back to the edge of the bank.

Oren licked his lips, and then slowly, he began to speak. “I heard my daughter’s words. What Emariya said was no lie. My son, Reeve, is not fit to lead. He held me in my own dungeon for I don’t know how long, preventing me from returning to you. He took my seat upon the Great Council by force, and I renounce him now. I have no son. My daughter, Emariya Warren, is my only heir and will hold the High Seat the day I no longer can. I believe that day will be soon. If you do not support her, you do not support me!”

Across the fjord, the men of Eltar each symbolically threw down their weapons and dropped to their knees.

Emariya beckoned to Torian and he took her place, helping Garith support Oren.

Still dripping wet, she stepped away from her father and her voice rang loud enough for all to hear. “If you will follow me, if you pledge your loyalty to me, Emariya Warren, in my father’s name,
rise!
”

Each man pushed to his feet shouting her name.

A flush crept through her cheeks, despite her shivers from being soaking wet. She couldn’t help being honored and a bit embarrassed that these men were so readily willing to follow her. These men had not followed a woman a day in their lives, yet they were willing to do so for her and for her father. She smiled back at her father and found his eyes brimming with pride.

Once the cheering subsided, the men on the other bank shuffled around uneasily, as if not quite sure what to do. Norval called across the fjord, “It would seem for the time being that we cannot come lay our weapons at your feet properly, Milady.”

Her grandmother Irina’s voice was in her ear.
We’ll do it together, child. I’ll lend you my strength, but first, find an anchor.

Emariya crouched down, searching along the ground. She found an early spring leaf, just peeking its hopeful head through the dirt. Plucking it from its stem, she curled her half-numb fingers around it and then pulled an ice-covered stone from the bank, cradling it in her other palm.
I should have just pulled some out of my hair
, she thought ruefully. In the crisp air, her wet hair had begun to freeze in clumped sections.

“What are you doing?” Torian asked as everyone else looked on.

“Grandmother Irina is with me; I’m letting her guide me.” Emariya held her head high, looking across the bank.

A deep rumble started low beneath the fjord as Emariya slowly lifted her hands, moving in tiny motions, higher and higher. When her arms were held straight above her, she rapidly clasped her hands together, crushing the icy stone to the green leaf.

Unlike the fire’s warm energy, freezing energy cut through her, numbing its path. It was so cold it nearly seared her insides.
Frost burn
, Emariya thought. The rumbling intensified and yet the raging fjord itself quieted. A cool white foam formed between the ice on the brownish-black water and the froth bubbled, multiplying until it filled the empty spaces between the floating shards of ice.

Emariya closed her eyes, but in her mind she could visualize the foam solidifying, frosting over, building an ice bridge between her and the men on the other bank. She allowed her own strength to ebb into it, hardening the icy path, commanding it to bear the weight of her people.

Her eyes snapped open, and there before her waited the bridge she’d imagined. Ever so slightly, she nodded. One by one, the men from the other bank began toward her, with Norval standing proudly in the lead.

As they passed her, each one bowed their head and murmured, “My sword is yours, Lady Warren.”

When the last man stood safely behind her, Emariya dropped her arms wearily at her sides.

She moaned softly and crumpled to the ground.