The New Guard (Crossroads Book 1) (34 page)

Throughout
this time Ruth and Esther chatted. At first they tried to include Deborah and
Eve, but, both quickly retreated from the other two. Eve had not intended to be
aloof, though she couldn’t bring herself to engage in the shallow conversation
of the younger girls. Deborah, for her part, began to worry at the waiting and
was trying hard to be calm. As the buzzing of the arrivals started to get
louder, a warm breeze seemed to blow into the room.

As the
breeze washed over Eve, all her discontent faded and the true happiness she had
for her sister became foremost in her mind. For Deborah, the breeze brought the
calm she sought. Her nerves settled and the joyous wonder of the impending
event filled her heart. A melodic tone drifted in from the other room, followed
by the distant sound of the assembled people standing to attention.

The rear
chamber door opened. David entered and all the girls gasped. Never had the
girls seen their father so splendidly adorned. His outfit resembled military
dress; sharp, yet functional. There was some ornate threading at the cuffs and
shoulders, similar to the ivy-like threading that ran down the hem of his
pants. A secondary pattern was subtly worked into the dark green material. It
was not noticeable unless he light hit it just right, and then only
momentarily. His scabbard had been given a dark polish to match the black boots
and gloves he wore. His raven hair was cropped short. He was freshly shaved,
and the various scrapes and bruises had all but disappeared.

While the
girls were still overcoming their shock, David swept up each of his daughters
in turn and kissed them gently on their cheeks. He quickly shooed Ruth and
Esther out of the room, instructing them to take their places. He then stood in
front of Eve for a long moment, his smile enchanting her.

“Our
ancestors smile from above to see you so. Where is the little girl I so often
sat upon my knee? Have so many seasons passed that now a gorgeous woman stands
before me? My grandmother told me stories about the breathtaking beauty of
Indian princesses, but here before me those tales pale in comparison to
reality.”

His words
filled her with joy and sorrow simultaneously. She was elated that he had
noticed her womanhood and saw her as beautiful. Equally, she was sorry for her jealousy
of her sister and the loss she felt at not being a little girl able to just
crawl into her daddy’s arms. Then those arms enfolded her and she nearly wept.
For a moment there was nothing else save those two.

A musical
sound peeled from the other room and David broke the embrace. “Go now, Tehya,”
he said, whispering softly in her ear.

The sound
of her secret name made her smile. It had been so long since her father had
last uttered it, she thought he had forgotten it. Joy unimagined moments before
kept the smile on her face as she kissed him quickly and dodged out of the room
before anything else could happen.

The music
continued as David turned to Deborah. He smiled, though it did not fully travel
to his eyes as it always did when he was truly joyful. The thought that he was
not fully joyful stung her. The she caught a reflection in a nearby mirror. For
a moment the image was not of her but reminiscent of the picture she had seen
of her mother from so many years ago. The reflection changed subtly and she
stood there once more.

David
stepped up beside her. He put an arm around her and stood next to her looking
at her through the mirror.

“I’m
losing so many of my little girls today. While I am honored to be in the
presence of these vivacious women, I long for the days gone past far too
quickly.”

Deborah
laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. “I know I’m only eighteen, but I feel
suddenly much older. Not mature or having great experience, just. . .”

David
squeezed her softly and laid his head upon hers. “I wish I could promise you
quiet years full of wonderful experiences. I can’t, though. Your trials will
come in many disguises. They will threaten you, your marriage, and your
children yet to be conceived. Some will be easy to spot. Other subtler ones will
surely impact you the most. Don’t lose your faith or your focus. He will give
you strength, for through you the world will see God’s glory.”

A
reflective quiet washed over them as they thought about a past irretrievable
and a future not fully conceivable. They stayed thus for several minutes until
finally they were pulled back into the present by a melodious call. David
squeezed his eldest child once more, then placed her arm within the crook of
his own. They walked out, father and daughter, joyful and solemn, together as
they would never be again.

*

The
wedding was kept simple. Hogan spoke traditional human vows to honor his bride,
while Deborah spoke traditional elven vows to honor her groom. The only surprise
came when Zilda brought forth the wedding bands. Both were a blending of
traditional bands from both races. Both were elegant yet simple. A thin band of
white gold etched with runes was made to fit on their fingers. This was
attached to a slightly thicker and larger cuff that would clasp around their
wrist. The two pieces were linked together with intertwining cords only as
thick as a strand of hair. When Hogan put on Deborah’s ring she was surprised
at how soft the strand felt and how it seemed to have no weight or substance to
it as it lay on the back of her hand. Within moments of having it on she
couldn’t even tell the strand was there.

Once the
vows were complete the ceremony switched from wedding to coronation. As soon as
the couple broke from their momentary kiss, the priest turned and retrieved a
jeweled circlet from a pedestal behind him. He raised the crown and spoke a
blessing upon it. The priest then passed it to Hogan, who kissed it gently and
then hoisted it for all to see.

“As it
has been commanded, so we shall do.” Hogan spoke clearly and with swelling of
confidence. “Upon this day, I crown my bride and hail her as queen of the
Seventh Realm of the Crossroads.”

Hogan
placed the diadem upon Deborah’s head and fell to one knee in homage. Deborah
turned at the sound of all the witnesses doing likewise. As she looked over the
kneeling crowd she felt the weight of the crown upon her head. Unlike her
wedding bands, this weight did not dissipate.

*

The
reception hall was far more ostentatiously decorated than the chapel had been.
This and the hailing subjects who packed the room took Deborah’s breath away.
This could not all be for her. She would never have wished such a day in all
her life. After a protracted bout of cheering, Deborah begged the crowd to
enjoy themselves and asked sheepishly that they stop revering her and kowtowing
whenever she entered a room. As the people went back to mingling, Hogan leaned
in to whisper in Deb’s ear.

“Be
warned, they will very likely not stop honoring you wherever you go. My family
has required genuflection for many generations.”

Deborah
turned and kissed him softly. As their lips parted she whispered back. “I am
here in service of the Lord, not my ego. We will see about changing some
things.”

Hogan
gently grabbed her face and kissed her deeply.

Across
the room, near the tall glass doors that led out to a private garden, Eve stood
with her brothers and sisters. She applauded when Deborah and Hogan entered,
but could not bring herself to “hail the queen.” As the crowd began to fawn
over the newlywed couple kissing, Eve started to move off toward one of the
buffet tables. Mel put a hand on her shoulder.

“Dad
wants us to stay together,” he said.

Eve
rolled her eyes. “I’ve hardly eaten all day; give me a break. Besides Yero has
guards all over this place and I’m not unarmed.”

Mel
raised his eyebrows at the last comment, but did not let go of Eve’s shoulder.
Silas swatted Mel’s hand away and moodily grumbled, “I’ll go with her.”

Mel was
shocked at his younger brother, as was Eve. However, she took the out and
followed Silas. At the buffet table she was on the verge of thanking him, but
stopped short as she saw the disgust on his face as he inspected the food.
Without preamble, he grabbed some meat and started gnawing at it.

Silas
worked his way down the table, eating thusly and grabbing more of the various
meats. Eve shook her head, picked up a plate, and tried her best to ignore him.
After selecting her food, she looked around for Silas. It took her a moment to
find him hidden in the shadow of a large stone column. She decided then and
there to leave him alone. Besides, she was grateful to not have someone
hovering over her.

Eve ended
up wandering around with her plate of food for quite a while before finding
herself a secluded corner. She ate absentmindedly, not paying attention to
anything. When done eating, she set her plate down and stared off into the
crowd. Without realizing it she began to drift off. Before she could completely
fall asleep, a shadow fell over her; and a deep smooth voice spoke to her
filling her head with thoughts of the depthless sea.

“Would
you care to dance?”

Without
realizing what she was doing, she grabbed the knife she had hidden in the broad
ribbon belt she wore. It was a small thin blade, but it glimmered in the
lantern light and looked deadly sharp.

“All
right, all right, you don’t have to dance,” said the voice, and the shadow over
her backed away.

Eve
focused on the person standing in front of her. It took her a moment, though
when he came into focus, Eve saw he was a roguishly handsome boy. She guessed
he would be about her age, maybe a little older. The dark stubble on his tan
face was broken on the left side by a scar that went from his cheek back to the
jawline below his ear. His gray eyes shone in the low light and his black hair
was slightly unkempt.

Sheepishly,
Eve realized she had her dagger pointed at him and quickly sheathed it. A blush
colored her face and she nervously whispered an apology. The young man smiled,
showing nearly perfect teeth.

“No harm,
and my fault entirely.”

Eve
quickly scanned her surroundings and realized quite a few people had started to
dance. David and Deborah were waltzing. An irksome feeling
twinged
within her. The young man turned, following her lingering gaze.

“You
know,” he said offhandedly, “every time I see her I find it hard to believe she
took on a demon.”

The boy
turned back to Eve, who was now staring at him with a puzzled look on her face.
He shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands.

“Well, at
least that’s what’s going around. What, you didn’t hear?”

“No, I
heard.” Eve said wearily. “Things seem to always fall into place for her. She
tends to get what she wants.”

Now it
was the boy’s turn to look puzzled. Eve sighed, realizing how bitter she had
sounded.

“Sorry,
she’s my older sister.”

“What?!
Really!?”

Eve
blushed a little more and prepared herself for the inevitable response and
comparison between her and her more gorgeous sister.

“You’re
pulling my leg.” He looked closely at both girls for a moment, then moved to
stand beside her so they both were looking out at the dance floor. Eve started
getting upset at the boy. Before he could speak again she spoke up,
exasperated.

“She
takes more after our mother, while I take after our father, the man she’s
dancing with.”

“The
Truth Blade; really? I’d heard rumors. Knowing that I guess she could stand up
to a demon. I mean, it has to be in the blood then. I could easily see you
taking on a demon, though.”

“What?!”

When Eve
looked over to him, the boy was wearing a crooked smile and was looking over at
her through the corner of his eyes.

“Well you
have to know your sister has the blood of a Truth Blade in her before you can
even conceive of such a power to her. You, however. . .” the young man paused,
and his grin grew when he saw the simmering anger appearing in her eyes. “Well
I guess the best way to put it would be to say you’re a storm.”

The boy
bobbed his head. “Yep, that would sum it up nicely. A storm with its fierce
beauty and deadly power.”

Eve felt
a little weak and lightheaded. The young man moved to face her once more. He
bowed slightly and offered his hand.

“My lady,
allow me to introduce myself. I am Rothos. Would you do me the honor of a
dance?”

Eve took
his hand and, without joining the other couples waltzing about the main floor,
they began to dance.

The party
was over and life was trying to find a new rhythm. For most of the Koens it was
a hard task as they knew eventually, sooner rather than later, they would have
to leave the newly acquired safety of the castle.

David was
securing supplies and readying travel arrangements. He employed most of the
children in this task at various times between their studies with Zilda and
their practices with Fleet of Foot. Most of the children dove into their tasks,
eager to be doing something. Eve, however, was not satisfied to do likewise.
She often slipped off wanting to be alone. . . no, not alone, just not with her
family. It was at one of these times she came across Rothos again.

The
memory of the young man had started to take on a dream like quality. She
couldn’t quite remember the substance of their conversation after their dance,
though the thrill of walking with him in the candlelit garden was a heady
memory. He had to leave, but he did so reluctantly. He spoke of a strict master
and needing to report back.

Eve was
lost in those thoughts when she bumped into Rothos in the castle corridors. A
blurred, quick exchange occurred. Eve ended up taking hold of his arms, trying
to delay him a moment longer. He smiled at her, though his eyes kept darting
about.

“Please,”
he said softly yet urgently, some huskiness in his voice. “I can’t tarry. My
master is rather irate today, and I must complete my tasks quickly.”

Then he
leaned in close to whisper, “I’ll try to break away, at night; the gardens.”

Then he
was off and she was left breathless by the closeness of him, by the salty sweet
smell of him. The smell lingered in her mind, in her nose. She wanted to take a
deeper whiff of it, to hold onto more of it. She snuck out to the gardens that
very night, yet it was in vain, for he did not come. The same happened the next
night and the next. She was sorrow filled. The next day the sorrow grew into
anger and moodiness. She became determined to wash him from her mind. However,
his smell and the closeness haunted the edges of her most resolute thoughts.
One more night; no more.

She
slipped out once more. With the fire of anger, of perceived scorn, she sought
out Rothos in the gardens once more. He was there, waiting. Something was
wrong, though. He did not seem as he had during the party or even in the castle
corridor. He seemed tense, ready to bolt, a rabbit fearing the hounds were
near.

When they
made eye contact, their attitudes visibly changed. They both became calmer. He
seemed as if he were seeing some spark of salvation. She was incapable of
holding onto anger in his presence. When he moved closer she saw the darkening
bruise on his left eye, and her heart leapt into her throat.

She
rushed to close the distance between them and gently reached out to touch the
bruise. He caught her hand and held it tightly as a drowning man would a
passing piece of driftwood. Then his grip became softer and his look held a
little roguishness once again. He put her hand to his face just below the
bruise and upon his scar.

“I’m
sorry,” he whispered at the same time she asked, “What happened?”

He smiled
at her. “It’s nothing. I wasn’t fast enough in my job or dodging.”

“Who?”
she began but didn’t finish, lost in the sensation of his suddenly kissing her
wrist.

“I have
to leave, tomorrow or the next day. My master is done here and is returning with
a report to his kin.”

“What is
going on? Did he do this?” She broke his grip and tenderly touched his eye.

“He is
not very forgiving. . .”

“Can I
help?” she interrupted. “I can. . .”

“No,” he
said flatly. “I cannot break free yet. I have no safe harbor.”

“My
family. . .” she started but then stopped, remembering that she was out here
without her father’s consent. Somehow, she thought, her revealing her
association with Rothos would not go over as well as had Deborah’s liaison with
Hogan. A stab of bitterness pierced her thoughts, and she dropped her hand. She
turned away from Rothos.

“We’ll be
leaving soon, too,” she said forlornly. “I’m not sure when. . .”

Rothos
gently turned her around and pulled her close to him. He used a hand to lift up
her chin so she’d make eye contact with him.

“Look,
I’m going to free myself when it is most opportune. When I do. . . maybe then.
. .”

The kiss
was not a deep one. It was quick like lightning and just as full of
electricity. However, it was also gentle as a butterfly landing on her skin. It
was over too soon and she felt weak all over. Her ears rang, and her vision was
blurred. When she finally regained her composure, Rothos was gone. Only the
sensation of the momentary kiss and his scent remained.

*

A month
had now passed since the wedding. The castle was as secure as it could be. Yero
had cleared the guard out as best he could. He was sure there were elements
still loyal to Avrant, though not in the guard. Likewise, Evangeline was fairly
certain of the staff. Ven, which had been almost totally destroyed in the fire
and the conflict, was now being rebuilt nearer to the castle, just on the other
side of Council Rock. Every able-bodied person was pitching in. Already the
buildings on the main thoroughfare were framed, and several outlying residences
were complete. With harvest only two months out, half a dozen store houses were
also complete.

David
stood upon the southwest wall and watched construction crews scrambling over
the main street frames. Though still distant, the town was now moved close
enough that he could hear the faint sound of hammering. The Beagle stood next
to him, paws upon the ramparts. He too watched the construction.

“Your
daughter brings a new energy to the realm,” the angel commented. “There are many
in Ven who have turned from their sinful ways.”

“I hope
it lasts, for both Deborah’s and Nic’s sake,” David replied.

Sensing
the sorrow in David’s voice, the Beagle moved away from the wall and looked up
at the man.

“Yero has
experience in what is happening to Nic. You made the right choice to let him
stay here.”

David
looked down at the Beagle. “I know. I feel it, I see it. It is still hard to
let go of him. It is hard to trust them out in this chaotic mess. I will abide
by His will, though it still hurts. They are safe here with a great deal of
people I’ve come to trust. To be honest, though, part of me wants to make this
castle our stronghold.”

“You know
we must head for Dauntalus. We must solidify a place there in order to
legitimize the transition in mortal eyes. Besides, Rebekah is there with very
little protection. I know the reason for your hardships and sorrow. No matter
what path you walk to fulfill His will, you leave something behind.”

David sat
down with his back to the wall and reached over to scratch at the Beagle’s
head, more to comfort himself than to show affection for the angel.

“The
harder road is ahead,” David finally said. “Though the children are more ready
to travel in this world, even though they have us and Fleet of Foot and Zilda helping
out, I can’t shake the feeling something else is going to happen.”

“It most
definitely will. We have to remain watchful for it and act then.”

Anything
further that they may have said was interrupted as Nic came running up. He was
wearing a guard uniform, the jacket unbuttoned in deference to the rising heat
of the day. The boy looked harassed and dirty, and was sporting some bruises in
addition to his hand being cut. David jumped up, his posture radiating alarm.
Nic raised his hands and tried to reassure his father.

“Everything
is fine, it’s just one of the horses. We are having a problem with one of the
war steeds. I came to find you in hopes you might be able to help.”

David let
a grin rise upon his lips. “How you don’t have your ancestors’ skills with
horses I’ll never fathom,” he said with humor.

Nic
rolled his eyes and responded with wry sarcasm. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Look, I can
ride them and care for them as well as the others. This one, though, is a
monster. I would have gotten Mel’s help, since he seems to be able to charm
them into doing most anything. However, he is out on patrol of the Northway in
preparation of your journey.”

“Okay, I
yield,” David said laughing. “I’ll come see how I can help.”

Esther
had been absentmindedly wandering around the castle grounds all day. She had a
tune stuck in her head that was distracting her from focusing on anything else.
As she shambled by the stables, she became suddenly focused on the sounds of an
animal in pain. Sorrow filled her heart as a wild scream sounded.

The young
girl ran toward the sound, feeling a pull in her heart which directed her. She
came out from the stables and saw on the far side, past the training grounds, a
commotion occurring in the grazing field. There were a dozen people within the
fence area. Stable hands, soldiers, and squires were all about. Three of them
were lying on the ground, being tended to by several others. Two of them were
dragging an obviously unconscious man away from a group of stable hands and
soldiers in the center of the field. There, at the heart of the pasture, two
stable hands and three guards looked wearily towards what appeared to be a mad
horse. Each of the workers had ropes and were conversing with the guards. The
horse was a massive gray warhorse that kept pounding the ground, snorting, and
eyeing the group of five people. Every now and then the horse would scream and
show his teeth.

Esther
felt pain, sorrow, longing, and fear roll in waves off the magnificent horse.
Her heart absorbed the feelings and she understood what this animal needed.
Those dealing with the horse were either arguing about, recovering from, or
complaining about the steed. They didn’t see Esther entering the grazing area.
They didn’t hear the whispering melody coming from her. At first, the steed
didn’t notice her, either. When he did finally sense her, the horse began to
shift his focus to her. As the girl came closer and closer the stallion reared
up, letting out a mighty scream. Deep down dread lanced out and pierced Esther
like a physical blow. Tears sprang to her eyes.

The new
cry brought the attention of all. Within seconds they all had registered
Esther’s presence and realized she was headed for the now stamping, rearing,
bucking beast. The stable hands acted faster than the soldiers and began to run
towards the girl. The guards, realizing who Esther was, started to shout
desperately. The young girl turned around, then sang a single word bold and
clear, ringing with the melody that had been haunting her all morning.

“Stop.”
As the word rolled lyrically out, the effect was like that of a pebble hitting
the water. All who heard it froze. The steed behind her calmed markedly, though
it still moved agitatedly and kept an eye locked on Esther. For her part,
Esther turned her attention back to the horse, and all the rest dropped from
her mind. She began to sing. The song she sang weaved its way into the horse’s
core. Where there was fear, the song called forth understanding. Sorrow was met
with hope; acceptance combatted longing. Finally, love unerring and undying
took on the pain. The song enfolded all the ills and transformed them, healing
them.

When
David showed up, every soul was focused on Esther and the warhorse. She was
reaching up to embrace the stallion’s neck. Nic looked over the scene and then
at his father.

“That’s
the horse, but. . .”

“What’s
going on?” David asked the Beagle.

The angel
looked up at him. “She sings a soul song. She is healing the animal’s woes by
letting the Holy Spirit work through her voice.”

David and
Nic both looked down at the Beagle as it continued. “She wields the glory of
God with her song. Go to her, David. She will bond the horse to you to complete
the animal’s healing.”

David
moved past the stunned and awed adults and came to a stop behind his daughter.
By this time the horse had laid its head on Esther’s shoulder. Both his
daughter and the horse had closed their eyes. David stood listening to the now
quiet song. He became mesmerized by the sound and found his eyes closing too.
Within the music David felt calm. Truth resonated within him; worry and concern
over the future went away; regret about the past faded.

David
didn’t feel his daughter take his hand, though he did feel her place it upon
the head of the warhorse. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the
dark orbs of the stallion. In these he saw a noble creature, hurt by loss and
loyal to its core.

“His name
is Gallant,” whispered Esther. “You and he will now take care of each other,
providing strength and endurance to one another.”

David
broke eye contact with Gallant after patting him on the nose. He looked down at
his daughter, awe apparent in his eyes and voice.

“Thank you,”
he said, unable to think of more to stay. Gallant nudged her softly, expressing
the same.

*

The sun
set and rose again. The day to leave had finally arrived. The entire castle was
awake before dawn, seeing to the final preparations. The Koens were in the
courtyard loading the cart and eating a quick breakfast, except for Mary, who
had climbed into the packed part of the cart and fallen back to sleep.