Son of Corse (The Raven Chronicles Book 2) (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

S
weat trickled down Lu’Thare’s face, the feeling still unfamiliar. He paused for a moment, leaning the axe against the chopping stump. The meager pile he and Mialee stacked before the snow hit was almost gone.

              He fished a rag out of a pocket, mopping the sweat off his face. His muscles still weren’t completely recovered. After decades of being fed only by magic and the Curse that’d been forced into him, surviving on food was a slow recovery process. It’d taken him weeks of being spoon fed by Mialee before he could walk.

              The cabin wasn’t much, but he liked the isolation. Just him, Mialee, and now the child. A few animals and a small garden helped feed them. Mialee would often trade with the few caravans that would come nearby. Eggs or fresh goats’ milk and cheese were luxuries on a trade route. He let her do the dealing. More often than not, his appearance would raise questions. People didn’t like knowing the man who led an army of undead against them still lived.

              Was he still alive? That seemed to be the biggest question he asked himself any more. Arwenna’s final gift, rebuilding that which was torn from him decades ago, had a double edge. Between her and Lexi’s pet cleric, Lu’Thare was mortal. Ordinary. With no more magic than a blade of grass. He remembered everything now. How his parents had died, meeting Bohrs, having Corse showing up as he was tied to an altar. Feeling the ecstasy as the magic flowed through his veins, replacing his blood. And the searing pain as it was forced back out.

              Meticulously, he folded the cloth back up. Turning to the side, he reached for a waterskin he’d left on a nearby log. That’s when he saw them.

              Two women on horseback, at the very edge of the woods. Another female judging by the cascade of hair, stood in front of them. A faint green light illuminated her. But there was enough light, even in the dark recess of the trees, that he could identify the two riders.

              Arwenna and Y’Dürkie had come to see Mialee’s son.

              Lu’Thare watched, waiting. He didn’t know who stopped the pair, but the green aura spoke volumes. It was one of Hauk’s messengers. Several hundred yards of clearing made it impossible for him to hear what was said. Arwenna slumped in her saddle, and she would’ve fallen if Y’Dürkie hadn’t reached out. He squinted, trying to get a better idea of what had happened. She retched, and Y’Dürkie’s face registered fury. When Arwenna raised her chin again, the pale face held a lot of pain. A pain he’d felt himself. Whoever the messenger was, she was powerful enough to block Arwenna’s access to her magic.

              He tucked the information into his mind. It may or may not be useful during the visit. Mialee didn’t need to know. Yet.

              Grabbing the waterskin, he walked towards the house. He needed to at least let her know they had visitors.

              Mialee was in the doorway when he came around the house. “We have visitors,” he muttered, keeping his voice low. The child slept in her arms, a tiny hand clutching her auburn curls.

              She glanced up from the infant, looking past him. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to make them welcome.” Turning, she disappeared into their home.

              Lu’Thare followed, closing the door behind him. The house wasn’t large, but it was comfortable. Two small rooms for them to sleep in and a main room that was both a living area and kitchen. He hung the waterskin on a peg near the door before crossing to the sink to wash up a little.

              “You know why
she
came, don’t you?” The edge in Mialee’s voice warned him of her mood.

              Busying himself with washing some of the sweat and dirt off, he kept his voice neutral. “She’s here because you had the baby. We’ve both known Lexi’s followers have been watching us. There’s no way Arwenna wouldn’t find out.”

              “She’s here to kill him!” The words came out as a hiss. “Your own son, Senyan!”

              He clenched his jaw as he grabbed at a towel. Turning to face Mialee, he leaned against the sink as he dried his hands. “I will protect him if I must, Mialee. And I’ve asked you to call me Lu’Thare now. It’s the name of who I was before....”

              “Before she helped them gut you like a pig! Before she cursed you, forced that raven into your mind.” Mialee’s voice dripped with contempt. “Yes, I know. And you’re trying to forget all of that. But I’m not sure I can. Especially not now that Lu’Kial is here.” She bowed her head over the bundle in her arms.

              Lu’Thare glanced out the window. Their visitors were getting closer. He was certain Y’Dürkie would be forcing Arwenna to take it slow, recover from the shock. They wouldn’t have a clue he knew she was cut off.

              Slowly, he began to see the chess board in front of him. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched the game, seen how the Gods moved their pieces into position before a major conflict. He’d been one of the pawns for most of his life. Only, now, he wasn’t sure who had a hand on what piece.

              That Hauk still had a stake in things was obvious with Arwenna’s imminent arrival. Why He would choose to cut her off from her magic, though, added another layer to the board. And Corse was dead, gone, destroyed by that creature living in Y’Dürkie’s sword. Lu’Thare controlled his own movements now.

              Mialee sat in a chair, tucking the blanket around the infant as he wiggled against the confinement. Who controlled her? She wasn’t the same woman he’d known before the wars. Religion had never been a dominant force in her life. Did she even have a God she believed in? The question sunk to the pit of his stomach like a stone. Everyone believed in a God or Goddess, unless….

              The loud knock on the door echoed through the small home. Mialee glanced up at him, her green eyes tinged with concern. Whatever the reason for the visit, it was upon them.

              Lu’Thare crossed to the door, drawing back the bolt and opening it. Arwenna stood there, and Y’Dürkie hovered right behind her.

              He took in her timeless face. All things considered, Arwenna was a beauty. Even the slight point at the tip of her ears seemed to radiate a grace few could possess. He did love her at one time, even if only briefly. Before he knew what she’d done, what she could do.

              “Well, I can’t say I expected the pair of you to visit. Come in. It gets cold once the sun goes down.” He moved aside, allowing them to enter. Two more pieces on the board. The sound of the bolt sliding home seemed louder than normal.

              Lu’Thare moved slowly about the edges of the room as the three women exchanged greetings. The pleasantries from all three seemed forced. Perhaps Mialee was right and the two had come to murder Lu’Kial. But that wouldn’t explain why Arwenna had been cut off. Or why Y’Dürkie rode with her.

              Arwenna and Y’Dürkie had found chairs. Mialee was easing the bundle out of her arms and into Arwenna’s. “Your own son isn’t much older, is he?” Mialee’s voice changed slightly. The fear wasn’t there. It was almost condescending. He’d heard the undertone before, but he wasn’t sure when.

              He leaned against the fireplace, watching, waiting. The women were focused on each other. His hand reached behind him, gently pressing one of the stones behind him. He’d built the fireplace, knew its’ secrets, and had made sure the niche would open silently.

              His fingers found the dagger he’d hidden in there. If Arwenna or the others had bothered to search him before they’d let Mialee take him away, they’d have found it. The blade still undulated with waves of dark magic.

              “So, tell me Arwenna. Do you plan on having our sons in fosterage together?” The mockery in Mialee’s voice was even more audible. Lu’Thare refocused his concentration on the women.

              A piece had moved. The game was on.

              Arwenna blinked, “I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet, Mialee. I suppose it’s poss…” her voice stopped as she stared at the small foot of the child she cradled.

              Lu’Kial had kicked his right foot free. The small black raven’s feather a stark contrast to the pale skin of his sole.

              Check.

              There was no mistaking it as a Mark similar to the one he knew Arwenna bore. Like it or not, the child was the Son of Corse.

              “What’s wrong, Arwenna? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Mialee’s entire body shifted. Her secret was out. Regardless of who the father was, the child bore a Mark.

              Arwenna finally found her voice. “I don’t understand, Mialee. All this time, you helped me hunt him down, tried to rid the world of his kind of evil. But you bear his child?” Her tone was incredulous. Lu’Thare sighed inwardly. She may be incredibly strong, but Arwenna never seemed to see the obvious. She always had to have an explanation.

              Counter.

              Mialee rose, blocking his view of the others. “Why? You’re going to ask me that? I knew you could be incredibly blind to what your friends truly were, Arwenna, but even that takes the cake! Did it ever occur to you to ask yourself just who Corse made the pact with to begin with? Who he went to, a desperate man in love with someone who only saw his twin?”

              Lu’Thare felt the temperature of the room begin to rise. Mialee’s skin, once a porcelain white, began to darken and turn reddish in hue. “I’d tried to have children before, mind you. Senyan had a lot of potential, but those idiots in your old temple damaged his mind along with his body. Though I should thank you for giving him back everything you did, Arwenna. He could at least give me another chance at a Son. And this one has so much more potential than the damaged goods his father became.”

              Check.

              He drove the blade deep into Mialee’s body. He knew what it would do, it was the same one he’d used when Corse manifested a physical body back in the cave. Only, this time he was hoping to harness the soul of this demon a little differently than just locking it into a stone.

              Her body crumpled forward, the sickening sound of it sliding off his blade filling the silent room. Arwenna stood back, still cradling the infant. Y’Dürkie’s sword was out, the green gem in the hilt illuminating the blade.

              The three of them watched as Mialee’s body smoldered and turned into smoke. It wasn’t until the last of it was gone, and the child wailed, did they come back to reality.

              Lu’Thare held up his hand before either of them could speak. “I didn’t know, Arwenna, not until she said it. And I’m tired of this. Take the child, do whatever you feel must be done. Leave me out of it.” He tossed the knife into the fireplace. Turning back to her, he rested his hands on the back of the chair where Mialee had sat. “I’m tired of being used, of being manipulated and lied to. It’s time for me to leave the world to you. You can tell your father He’s won.”

              Y’Dürkie found her voice first, “Vhere vill you go?”

              Lu’Thare turned his head, looking out the window at the wilderness beyond it. “There’s a monastery up in the mountains I’d heard of. They don’t care who you are, what God you worship, or even what you’ve done in life. It’s a life of solitude, silence, and contemplation. I need to find who I am, Lu’Thare or Senyan, and make peace with myself.” He moved to the door, unbolting the latch one more time.

              Swinging it wide, he waited for them to leave. Arwenna cradled the now-sleeping infant. He watched Y’Dürkie untether the horses, waiting for Arwenna to speak.

              “Senyan, I…,” her voice was subdued.

              “Don’t bother, Arwenna. I’ve not been part of your world, this world, any world for a very long time. It’s time I retreat and find some measure of peace. I know you think you have to kill the child. Mialee did, too. You’ll do what you have to. You always have.”

              Tears pooled in her grey eyes as he spoke. The last piece of the puzzle came into play. Killing the child would kill part of her and he knew it. But he wasn’t sure she could do it.

              He watched them as they left. Arwenna cradling the infant in her arms, Y’Dürkie holding the reins of the horses, as they disappeared into the forest. Only time would tell what happened next.

              Checkmate.

Epilogue

J
oss waited, his ears alert. Hugh had come back with Sera and Liam last week. Hala was with them, as well. The girls were playing quietly in Sera’s room as Liam napped.

              “Stop jumping so much, Joss. They’ll get here when they get here. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about those two is that it’s better not to push them.”

              Joss chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “True, true. Neither one of them likes being pushed into anything.”

              Sera came barreling out of her room, her animated face full of delight, “Mama’s home!” she whispered excitedly before darting for the front door.

              Joss leapt to his feet to follow, his heart beating rapidly. Lexi hadn’t been able to find out what choice Arwenna had made as far as Mialee’s child. That’s why She’d sent him home for a visit. A week once Arwenna was home, no more, but he needed to tell Her what Arwenna had done with the baby.

              The overcast sky promised rain in the near future. He spotted Arwenna and Y’Dürkie’s horses with ease. Arwenna looked tired as they approached
.
A sadness made her slump in her saddle.

              “I’ll help Y’Dürkie with the horses,” Hugh muttered, reaching out for Arwenna’s horse as they came up alongside them. Y’Dürkie’s face was a stony mask. This had not been a good trip.

              Reaching up, Joss helped Arwenna dismount. Ignoring Sera as she darted about, he enveloped his wife into his arms.

              “Joss, I…” Arwenna’s voice was thick with unshed tears.

              He held her tighter, “Shhh. I know.”