Embers of an Age (Blood War Trilogy) (2 page)

“And were it not for Uthul’s sacrifice, that promise would have been
another brick in the tower
of my failures.”

Zalee glanced over at the mention of her father’s name, a tendril of pink spilling from her eye. She turned away quickly, wiping at her face, and sped her pace. Arrin watched her a moment, feeling foolish for having spoken
so recklessly
.

Kirah gave him no time to mope. “He surrendered no more than the Sha’ree are asking of you, so do not let Zalee’s sadness cloud your mind. Like us, they are warriors.
They understand what must be done. Before this is through
, we will
all
lose friends and family
, and perhaps even our lives, but we must fight on. If we are to honor the sacrifice of Uthul and all those who
have fallen
beside us, we must chase the Grol from Ahreele and
stain
the
soil
with their blood. The only failure would be to
not
fight.”

Her words settling in his ears, Arrin looked back at the group shuffling along behind. Malya’s
eyes were on her family, her
children walk
ing proudly before their parents
.
Kylle and Argos were handsom
e boys, sharing traits of both
their mother and father.
Arrin could find no fault in Malya’s choice of life mate
, as much as he wished he could
.

Behind
them
walked the young Nurin, Cael, and the quiet Lathahn girl, Ellora.
The two had
been in the city
when
the Grol attacked.
Their faces were
masks
of quiet determination
beneath smatterings of dirt
. They strode tall, their eyes on the horizon
as though the worst w
as
behind them. Such was the resilience of youth.

The Velen at their heels
, apparently the uncle of Cael,
wore none of their optimism
on his dark face
. His gangly shoulders slumped, forming a pocket his
chin
had nearly sunk into. His
weary
gaze hugged the earth as he walked
. He carried a sword roped to his hip but he was ill-suited to its sharpness. His robes were stained with blood and dirt, but his mood appeared even darker.

Sergeant Barold and Commander Maltis had taken positions to the side of the travelers
, soldiers who had fled the ruin to protect Malya and her family
.
Maltis was an old friend of Arrin’s from before the exile, and Arrin was glad to see he made it safely out of Lathah. Barold had been the man who greeted Arrin at his return and had proven himself a good man.
Though both had their swords sheathed, they took the measure of the road with their eyes, their heads swiveling back and forth, missing nothing. Products of
the
Lathah
n military
, their lack of comfort at the wide open spaces was evident in their rigid postures. Arrin understood. He had been the same at the time of his exile, the walls of Lathah both a comfort and a certainty he had been accustomed to. It would take time for the soldiers to adapt
to the wilderness
.
He hoped they
would be given
the opportunity
.

At the back, Jerul, t
he Yviri warrior
and
blood-
companion to the Velen,
and one of the Pathra
n warriors,
carried a makeshift pallet upon which King Orrick lay still
.
Arrin had only memories of the king’s vitality so many years before, but he seemed to have been struck low with his land.
The old man
stared at the sky and said nothing. Only the rise of the cloak
, which
covered his narrow chest
,
spoke of life
. T
hat was stuttered and slow as though it neared its last.
He seemed a skeleton wreathed in
a
pale
sheath of
flesh.
The warriors carried him gently, but Arrin had no certainty the king would live to see Pathrale.

These were who the Sha’ree had hung their hopes
of redemption
upon. Arrin shook his head as he turned back to Kirah. “I will fight, but I fear we may well do it alone.” He gestured toward the group. “We are no army.”

Kirah glanced about and turned back as though she might argue, but Waeri’s shout drew their attention.

“Pathrale!” He pointed ahead, the shadows of the jungle just appearing in the distance.

Excited chatter sprouted within the group, but Arrin continued on without a word. The land of the cat people was little more than a way station
in their travels
; a temporary reprieve from the war that nipped at their heels. For all the Pathran spirit and ferocity, they stood no chance against the O’hra empowered Grol. When the beasts came
, there would be no one left to hang the Pathran dead in the tree
top
s.

~

The rest of the journey went without incident.
Great trees sprouted from the darker soil of Pathrale, the separation of land a sharp contrast of the rockier earth of Lathah. Brilliant green rose up into the sky, vines and branches intertwined with smaller foliage, making the face of the jungle appear as though it were a wall of greenery with no entrance. As they neared, the chittered sounds of the jungle slowed to a stop, the birds and insects reacting to their closeness. Only those in the distance carried on without fear, sharp-voiced calls echoing through the foliage. Certain the Pathra lay in wait within the
trees, Arrin waved to Waeri to lead their approach.

Waeri called to
his
people as the group
drew closer, Kirah moving out
to
where she could be easily identified
. The
hidden
Pathran
warriors rejoiced loudly at seeing Warlord Quaii’s children returned, alive and well
, their voices resounding across the breadth of the jungle
. The celebration was short lived
, however
.
Sobered by the threat that came on their heels, the group was hurried into the trees. They
stood before the warlord a short time later.

“Waeri, Kirah…” Quaii held his massive orange arms out to his brood as they approached. They dove into his embrace, rubbing their foreheads against his chin as he closed his eyes and sigh
ed
contentedly. After a moment, he turned his gray gaze upon Arrin. “Thank you for the gift of my children.”

Arrin nodded. “Sadly, they are all the good news I have brought to your door.” He motioned to Malya and her family. “Lathah has fallen to the Grol and I am certain they march here next.”

Quaii loosened his grip about his children but
did not relinquish it. He looked at the meager group who stood behind Arrin. “Is this all that remains?”

“We are all who escaped,” Malya
answered
, stepping forward and bowing shallow. “My father, Kin
g Orrick,” Jerul and the Pathra
brought the pallet closer so Quaii could see
the old man
, “has spoken well of you, Warlord Quaii. I’m sorry he is unable to greet you with his own words and ask for sanctuary.”

Quaii waved the issue away. “We are allies, Lathah
and Pathrale
, king or princess
or pauper
, and nothing will change that. It is a time of dire need, and you are welcome here without reservation.” The warlord bowed deep
, releasing his children, at last
.

“Thank you,” Malya answered. Her gratefulness shone in her eyes
as Quaii summoned a number of his people. They brought drink
s
, passing
them
out among
st
the travelers.

“Stay here a moment and
rest from your travels. You are safe
within our
borders
.” The Warlord turned from Malya as she joined her family, and walked a short distance into the jungle, motioning for Arrin to follow
, his son and daughter joining him
.
Zalee
also
followed along.
Once they were away from other ears, he stopped and faced Arrin. “How long do we have
before the beasts arrive
?”

Arrin shrugged. “If the Grol…
feed
,” he struggled to say the word, “and bring the whole of their forces and supply tra
in, we have, perhaps
a sevenda
y
,
at best. Should just the empowered beasts come, they could be on us in moments. I sus
pect they have remained with the main force
, however, as they would have
overrun
us had they
hurried
ahead.”

Quaii nodded. “But soon, regardless.” Arrin could only agree. “Then we must make plans
.” The great cat sighed. “The Korme
scum
harry us at the river, and though they present little threat on their own
,
they keep us from massing against the coming
Grol
. Our uncertainty of the Yvir
to our north only further complicates matters. My people are spread too thin to present a unified front.”

“
This is for the best
,” Zalee stated, drawing the warlord’s attention. “The Grol will lay waste to your people if you
mass
before them.
It is what they want.
You
would be better served to draw
them into the trees and whittle away at their numbers as best you can. Worry their morale and you might slow them, but do not test their might head on if you would see your people
survive
.”

“I fear for the homes we will lose when
we let the Grol invade
our land
,
”
Quaii mused.

“Better trees and dirt than people,
F
ather,” Kirah said, scratching at his mane.

The warlord nodded, his face resigned.
“Will you fight with us?” he asked Arrin.

Arrin shook his head. “
I’m sorry, I cannot.
I must go to Ah Uto Ree with Zalee.” He nodded toward the Sha’ree as he caressed the warm collar at his throat.
“
That is where my fight lies
.”

“
Unfortunate. We could use your prowess, but a
t least we have O’
hra of our own to surprise the Grol with when they come.”

Arrin’s eyes narrowed and he looked to the warlord. Kirah and Waeri turned to
stare
at their father, questions in their eyes.

“Ah, yes, you had
already
gone
about your own adventures
.” He grinned, sharpened teeth glistening. “
While you traveled to Lat
hah, a group of warriors from Y’
var
raided our land. They
brought with them O’hra that amazed even the Sha’
ree, Uthul.
Your companions wield two of them.” He pointed to the Velen and his blood-companion.

Arrin turned and spied the silver bracers the pair wore
, noticing them for the first
time
. Blinded by his anger and misery, he had not sensed the subtle wash of magic until just then
, suddenly receptive to it
.

“And we’ve more,” Waeri said, waving forward the Pathran warrior who carried the rest of those they’d taken on their journey to Lathah. The soldier held the bag high for all to see before setting it at Quaii’s feet.

Arrin went
to
the Yvir, his eyes scanning the bracer the warrior held
out
for him. Its magic shimm
ered in the symbols so similar,
and yet so different
,
from the ones carved into his collar.

“I can feel its power
against my skin, like stings from a wasp.
”

Domor drifted over to stand alongside his blood-companion, holding his own O’hra out for inspection.

Zalee
looked to
the Velen
.
“
The silver that holds the runes is far more pure than the bronze of those the Grol have stolen.” She ran a tentative finger across the bracer, pulling it away quickly. “This is strange. I have never seen O’hra such as this.”