The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes (47 page)

There is no one in the room to impress
Marrow. I don’t need to worry yet
, Jala assured him, her
forehead still planted firmly on her knees. Each crack of thunder
from the storm outside seemed an accusation and made her want to
curl into a tighter ball.

Just because you don’t see them, Jala,
doesn’t mean they don’t see you
, Marrow warned and she had to
agree with his logic. Had she been in Kithvaryn’s place she would
likely spy a bit before entering. It did explain his delayed
arrival nicely.

Perhaps he thinks I am simply resting. I
did get shipwrecked and whacked in the head, Jala
countered.

And if that’s all that it takes to bring
you low, he shouldn’t have to see you as a threat
, Marrow
pressed.

Well in my bloody defense I did just lift
a curse and resurrect a nation. I think I’m allowed to be a bit
woozy
, Jala snapped back then tensed as she felt a hand settle
on her shoulder gently. Raising her head slowly she met Valor’s
blue eyes with a questioning look. He was kneeling in front of her
with his head bent toward her and concern was written clearly on
his face.

“Are you OK?” Valor asked softly, his voice
absent of the anger that had been lacing it since the ship. She
nodded silently, unwilling to speak. “You make it impossible to
stay mad, you know that. I want to rail at you. I want to shake
some sense into you. Then I see you sitting like this for so long
and all of that fades and all I want to do is make sure you are
OK.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper as if he didn’t want
anyone else in the room to hear his words.

Jala could hear the storm outside slackening
as the driving rain slowed and the lightning began to subside.
Valor continued to kneel in front of her, watching her carefully,
his expression growing more concerned with her silence. Leaning
forward a bit she rested her forehead against his shoulder and
closed her eyes once more. “I don’t want any of this, Valor. I want
to go home. I want to see my son and I want to grieve for my
husband. I don’t want war and I don’t want to negotiate with
people.” Leaning back, she met his eyes once more and held his
gaze. “Most of all I never want to hear the sound of thunder when
you look at me again. I don’t want to ever know that you are so
angry at me that it requires the use of the heavens to voice
it.”

“I didn’t do that intentionally, Jala,” Valor
admitted with a faint smirk. “Trust me, I had no desire to be in a
blizzard or try to navigate a ship through that. Honestly, I don’t
even truly know how I did it. My magic has been strange since you
siphoned from me. It’s a hell of a lot more powerful than I
remember it being.”

Jala frowned slightly as she remembered the
barrier she had encountered in Valor the day she had siphoned magic
directly from him. The magic that had poured forth once she had
brought the barrier down had been intoxicating, far beyond what she
had expected from him. “I, uhh, well I may have bypassed a barrier
and well, it’s complicated,” she muttered, trying to decide how
best to explain what she had done or even if she should explain
it.

The sound of the door opening spared her from
trying to find the proper words. Valor rose quickly at the sound
and pulled her to her feet beside him. Kithvaryn entered the room
silently and closed the door softly behind him before moving to sit
in an overstuffed chair near the wall showcasing the vast weapon
collection.

“I apologize for my delay. It took me quite a
while to convince Kara that I did not actually plan to execute any
of you,” Kithvaryn said at last as he quite openly studied them.
“Do not, however, take that as a promising sign. I am a man of
logic and all three of you are worth coin. It would be a waste to
simply kill you,” he added after a moment’s pause.

“You do realize that two of the three
children you are considering as hostages are my blood relations,
don’t you Kith?” Vaze murmured quietly a faint smile tracing across
his lips.

Kithvaryn raised an eyebrow and surveyed them
again with more interest before turning his attention to Vaze with
a wide smile on his face. “I do believe that makes them more
valuable, Fionaveir. You are a councilor among the rebels after
all,” Kithvaryn paused, his eyes roving over his guests once more
and raised a finger to his lips tapping thoughtfully. “It’s not the
Avanti boy, of that I’m certain. I had no idea however that you
shared blood with the Hai’dia though.”

“On my mother’s side. Jala is my niece
through my father’s line,” Vaze explained in a conversational
voice. If he was the slightest bit offended by Kithvaryn’s
suggestion of more money, he didn’t show it. “Just saying, Kith. If
you already have it set in your mind to sell them off to the
highest bidder, let me know now.”

“That would depend on why they are here,”
Kithvaryn said with a sigh as his eyes turned to Jala once more.
The smile faded from his face and his brown eyes locked on her with
such intensity that she almost backstepped. “Why are you here, Lady
Merrodin?” he asked in a voice as demanding as his gaze.

“I’ve come to negotiate a contract with you,”
Jala replied bluntly with as much confidence and strength as she
could muster.

Kithvaryn’s laughter echoed softly through
the quiet room as he glanced back at Vaze who simply shrugged. “It
would seem I am in very high demand this year. You are the fourth
person to speak with me about a contract, Lady Merrodin, and by
principle alone you are the last I’m inclined to accept a contract
with.” Leaning forward in his chair he let his eyes trail slowly
across her, his gaze lingering on her torn and stained dress. “You
don’t have the resources to hire me, little girl,” he said softly
in a tone as cold as ice.

“I have resources that no one else can offer,
General,” Jala corrected in a calm voice. “I have your son’s soul
and what I want in return should be simple for a company as skilled
as yours.”

Kithvaryn’s mouth hardened into a line with
her words and she wondered if she had completely misjudged the man.
“You wish to barter my son’s soul to me?” he asked in a cool
voice.

“I wish to gift you with the return of your
son to show my gratitude for the contract we have. If we do not
have a contract I see little reason for a gift. Especially if you
plan to attempt to sell me,” Jala corrected.

“Well, she has my interest peaked,” Vaze said
with a smile.

“You cannot possibly offer me enough money to
face the Avanti for you, child. The losses would be heavy and I
know you don’t have the resources for it.” Kithvaryn fairly
growled, his expression darkening.

“I don’t want you to fight the Avanti,
General Kithvaryn. I want you to protect Goswin and currently I
don’t think they have any enemies even looking at them. I want you
to fortify the country I returned from the dead and ensure that it
survives the war. I will fight my own battles,” Jala explained, her
expression still calm despite the general’s obvious
displeasure.

Kithvaryn laughed once more a cold bitter
sound. “You will face the Avanti alone girl? You won’t survive the
first turning of the moon once they march. Their armies will burn
your sad little kingdom to the ground without hired
protection.”

“Don’t underestimate her, Kith. She is
Dashara reborn, I swear it,” Vaze said in an amused voice as he
leaned back in his chair once more a wide smile on his face.

“Dashara barely lived past twenty and every
child that has been termed
Dasharan
since then has died
young as well,” Kithvaryn replied dryly.

“I have no idea who Dashara is or what a
Dasharan is, but I have no intention of dying young. I hate to
repeat myself, but I will say once again that I will fight my own
battles, General. I do not need your protection. Goswin, however,
does,” Jala broke in. Frustration edged her voice and she knew it,
but it couldn’t be helped. Her nerves were already on edge and that
was the second time she had been called Dasharan. The word had
never been explained to her and she didn’t even know if she was
being insulted.

“Dashara Avanti was one of the first rebels
of Sanctuary,” Valor said in a soft voice, his gaze on the carpet.
She rose up against her own family. She opposed slavery and tyranny
and her family was famous for both. It was said that she was so
charismatic that those that followed her would have fallen on their
own swords had she asked them to. In the three years of her
rebellion she managed to bring the entire land of Avanti to its
knees and freed nearly every slave in the country. The stories
about her say that had she survived another month her rebellion
would have been a complete success and Avanti would be an entirely
different country from what it is now.”

“The term Dasharan has been coined for those
who seek dramatic change and have the potential to accomplish it,
Jala,” Vaze added with a smile. You were never being insulted by
the use of the word. Fiona Veirasha was called Dasharan while she
lived and you know how well the stories speak of her.”

“And I promise you will not suffer the same
fate as Dashara herself, nor will you die young,” Valor said in a
louder voice, his words etched with sincerity.

Jala looked between the two of them and then
back to Vaze. “How did she die?” she asked softly, not at all sure
that she wanted the answer.

“Hemlock,” Vaze replied simply without a hint
of emotion to his voice. His dark eyes were watching Valor
carefully, his expression neutral. As always, it was impossible for
Jala to gauge what he was thinking.

Jala shook her head slowly and looked back to
Kithvaryn. “I don’t want change, General. I want survival. Change
could come later perhaps, but for now, survival is the only goal. I
can protect my own lands, but I cannot protect Goswin. Will you at
least consider my offer?”

Kithvaryn studied her thoughtfully and then
turned slowly to Valor. “Would you fall on your sword for her boy?”
he asked in a mocking tone.

“Without hesitation if she asked it of me,”
Valor replied evenly with a tight smile. “If you, however, are
suggesting it, you can go straight to hell,” he added in a colder
voice.

Kithvaryn snorted in what Jala thought was
amusement but she wasn’t sure. Turning his gaze once more,
Kithvaryn looked at Sovann and raised an eyebrow. “And you?” he
asked his voice still mocking.

“I don’t actually carry a sword. So I suppose
I would have to borrow Valor’s for that,” Sovann replied with a
slight shrug. The mage’s tone was light and conversational but his
expression was dead serious.

“Such blind loyalty confounds me. Do you
think she would do the same for either of you?” Kithvaryn asked in
a disgusted voice.

“She faced down the entire Justicar order for
me without being asked,” Valor answered coldly, his dark blue eyes
narrowed in irritation. She has battled a Divine for me, despite my
objections. I’ve watched her nearly kill herself to give life back
to a nation that she holds no ties to. Yes, I think if it was
required she would do so without hesitation. However, it is my
sworn duty to keep her safe, so I think asking her to fall on a
sword for me would be rather redundant.”

“She is my sister by the marriage she shared
with my brother. Beyond that, she is my friend and I trust her,”
Sovann said softly, once Valor had fallen silent. I know without a
shadow of doubt that Jala would never ask me to harm myself
intentionally nor would I ever ask it of her. If you are asking,
however, if she would put herself in harm’s way on my behalf, then
I would say yes without hesitation. That is simply the sort of
person she is. In every action Jala has taken she has considered
others first,”

“Now ask the important part, Kith,” Vaze
prompted, his gaze on the general once more.

“And that would be?” Kithvaryn asked with a
raised eyebrow.

“Would I do such a thing for my niece?” Vaze
supplied the words with an almost predatory smile.

Kithvaryn’s eyes widened in shock and he
watched the Fionaveir closely as if he expected Vaze to burst into
laughter at his own words. “Would you?” The general asked finally
after a long silence.

“No chance in hell of it. My swords would
already be occupied cutting down any who oppose her. Do you oppose
her Kith?” Vaze answered the savage smile still on his handsome
face.

“Are you threatening me in my own keep,
Vaze?” Kithvaryn demanded, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Of course he isn’t,” Jala cut in once more,
her eyes wide as she stared at Vaze. She had no idea what he was
doing but it certainly didn’t seem to be helping her cause any.

Vaze sat in utter silence for a long moment,
his dark eyes locked on Kithvaryn before he slowly let the smile
fade from his lips and relaxed in his chair once more. “Dasharan,
Kith. Do not underestimate her and do not underestimate those that
will help her. I will support her and I will not allow you to hold
her for ransom, I want you to be clear on that. If you oppose her
we are enemies and I am a very dangerous enemy. If you mean her no
harm and simply wish to refuse her offer for contract we don’t have
a problem. I truly think you should consider her offer though.”

“I know very well how dangerous you can be. I
assume that is why the Fionaveir sent you this time rather than
Solace as they did before. Though I must say, Solace has much
better manners during negotiations,” Kithvaryn said stiffly.

“Solace is dead. Had she still been among the
living they might have sent her and Hawk to speak with you again,
but they both died to the Blights in Glis,” Vaze said with a sigh.
“They sent me because they knew I would make it here and make it
back. These are dangerous times, Kith, and sometimes you have to
make concessions. They sacrificed manners in favor of survival when
they chose their envoy. We both know I always survive.”