Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) (26 page)

Chapter 26

Darius

After Arden’s hasty departure, the three of them stood in awkward, heavy silence. The sudden shock of seeing Naya again, coupled with Arden’s brush with death, was more than Darius could process, leaving him overwhelmed and numb.

“How long have you been back?” Vennic asked, finding words where he couldn’t.

Naya shook her head, a beam of sunlight catching in the fiery red of her hair. “Only a week. I traveled for a while before I made the decision to take the oath.”

“When…” Putting his thoughts into words was incredibly difficult. “When did you take your vows?”

A slow, sad smile lifted a corner of her mouth. “From what I know of it, a few weeks before you took yours.”

He winced. Had she made that decision based on his marriage? It was rather self-absorbed to think so, but he couldn’t help feeling responsible for her dedicating herself to a life of chastity and servitude. It was something she spoke of when they first met, but she’d been indecisive and leaning away from it.

“I am elata’hem,” she said. “I’m at peace with my path.”

Vennic bowed to her. “Then you have my gratitude. There could be no finer a guardian for our people.”

Naya sheathed her knife, her countenance relaxing. “I’m still your equal, royo. Bonds forged in battle are never broken.” She motioned them away, back towards where they left the soldiers in their urgent exit to find Arden. “There’s been a lot of progress with the Blighted Sands since you were here last. You’ll be very surprised to see the things we’ve uncovered here.”

“Any new artifacts?” Vennic asked as they crept through the forest.

“A few, but mostly stone tablets of text. The dialect is very old, so we haven’t fully translated it yet. Some of our most knowledgeable scholars were lost in the war, so it’s a struggle to find meanings for certain words and phrases.”

Glad for something else to think about, Darius explored the subject. “I might be of some use there. I learned quite a lot of ancient elvish in my former line of work. It came in handy for dismantling traps and locating various relics. Who’s in charge of the translation?”

“Tavis.” She stepped over a fallen tree limb. “You remember him, yes?”

“I’m glad to hear he still lives. He was always more clever than most gave him credit for. Good to know he’s putting that talent towards something useful.”

“He’ll be excited to see you,” she said, amusement coloring her words. “He still speaks of you with the same awe and reverence as he did when you first met.”

Darius smiled at the memory. “I’m surprised. I’ve fallen from more than one pedestal in the last year.”

“And risen higher on others,” Vennic added.

As they emerged onto the road, he frowned. “Yes, well, I suppose that’s also true, though these days I feel more like disembodied myth than anything.”

Looking around, he took a quick headcount. Ten guards remained, but two of the elvish hunters who stopped them were gone, as was Ehlren and…

“Where’s Arden?” Darius barked, rushing through the horses, thinking maybe he missed her. “Is she—”

“Gone ahead, Your Majesty,” one of the soldiers said. “General Ehlren accompanied her along with two of the ata lamorah.”

“Gone ahead?” At first confused, he was immediately concerned. “With who? What for?”

Naya touched his arm. “Ara tells me Corma and Davi are with her. She’ll be fine.”

Flustered to find her gone, he could really only be angry with himself. After all, she likely only left because of the awkward mess he’d wrought. He hurried to his horse and climbed into the saddle.

“Let’s be off then. No need to linger here.”

They weren’t fast enough to catch up to them, as the two horses Arden and Ehlren took were already tied up with elves seeing to their feeding and grooming when they arrived. As badly as he wanted to look for them, it had to wait. He needed to speak with the Ta’Mareth first, so as not to offend.

The camp was much the same as he remembered it: green, full of life, and carefully structured to provide safety in numbers while making as little impact on the land as was possible. Young ones ran in between the tents and wagons, peeking at the new arrivals from behind wheels taller than their heads. The valari stag roamed the grounds, their pale gold horns and fur glowing with the tiny spirits that lived with the animals. Those stags captivated Darius in his younger days, and he spent hours watching the soft trails of light weaving in and around the strands of hair on their coats. Magic was alive and well amongst the elven clans.

Ta’Mareth Garethell was near the fire at the center of the settlement, but he wasn’t alone. Darius stopped a short way back, surprised to find Arden already with him. Her expression at a distance seemed a mixture of awed and stunned, though she was speaking, so whatever was being said hadn’t stupefied her. Her smile grew wider each moment, settling into a warm happiness that eased his heart. Garethell embraced her briefly, an amazing show of trust and fraternity amongst elves. What was going on?

When Arden turned away, retreating with one of the elven guards and Ehlren, Darius started forward, thinking to catch them, but Garethell met him before he could call out.

“Welcome, masareh,” he said, dark gray hair falling in curtains along his face as he gave a short bow. “We are glad to have you home.”

He returned with a lower bow. “
I come in friendship and offer my hands to the tribe. Thank you for granting us a visit
.”

“So formal.” He chuckled and led Darius away from the fire as he craned his neck to see Arden vanish behind a tent. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

“I… yes, but—”

“She’s safe, masareh. Talk with me.”

They each took a seat on a stump around the outer circle, but Darius wasn’t at ease. He needed to speak with Arden, to know how deeply Naya’s presence shook her, and to comfort her if he could.

“You are changed since I last saw you, but still impatient.”

“What did you say to her?”

His face wrinkled up in a grin, matching the crumpled lines of his tunic. “My words are hers now. Only she can give them to you.”

One of the elven maidens brought them cups of tea, and Vennic followed after her, saying something about asking after his family.

“I see you’re as enigmatic as ever,” he muttered into his drink. “She looked happy about it, whatever it was.”

“She puts on a good face, but carries much on her shoulders. You know that already, though.”

Scrubbing a hand across his face, he nodded. “She shouldn’t have to. She’s too young for such heaviness.”

Garethell shrugged and made a face. “Young in body, perhaps, but not in spirit. She carries the light of many lives, much like the stars.”

“I wouldn’t dim it to save my own skin, but I worry I’ve done so in coming here.”

He shook his head. “It’s a cloud passing over the sun, nothing more. How was it with the other’s presence?”

Darius leaned back and looked up to the sky, as though expecting an answer there. “I don’t know yet, honestly. I wasn’t prepared to see her again, and I don’t think it’s registered properly... like being caught in the rain when you’re neck deep in the river. I’m already soaked, so it’s only more water.”

“Always so philosophical, masareh.” He sipped his tea with a smile. “In other circumstances you would’ve made an excellent poet, I think.”

Glancing back in the direction Arden went, Darius tried to muster a smile. “I could argue that my words have caused me more damage than swords, as nearly all my choices these days seem to be wrong.”

“Sometimes we only learn the right way by doing it wrong at the start. There’s hope for you yet.”

He waved it off with a sigh. “Enough of that. How are things here? You seem well. Is Malora still making good progress with her training?”

“Well enough. She’s off on the
pendaya loh’aei
now.”

“Vision questing already?” He was impressed, having known the impetuous girl she was eight years before. “That’s quite an accomplishment.”

“War changes many things,” he said with a sad smile. “Some for the better, some for the worse, and some we cannot see for many, many years.”

Holding out his tea, they clinked their cups together in cheers. “A truer statement was never spoken. I hope that her trials are on a smoother path than most.”

Arden

It was difficult not to be unnerved by the wide-eyed stare of Calla and Corma’s children, but Arden did her best with it. After speaking with the Ta’Mareth, easily one of the most uplifting chats of her entire life, Corma brought her to see his family. Ehlren, fidgety at being surrounded by elves, opted to wait outside while she visited.

“Such lovely wrapping,” Calla said with a sigh as she ran her fingers over the present Paitra sent. “She always had a way with knots I never could match.”

Arden marveled at the similarities between the sisters. Their hair was the same rich auburn color, their eyes the same brilliant green, and even their mouths had the same heart shape, though Calla’s lips were slightly fuller.

“You will have to open it eventually,” Arden said. “It will undoubtedly be the second or third thing she asks me about as soon as I’m back at Castle Dulaine.”

She tried not to cringe, knowing exactly what the first thing would be and the answer she’d have to give.

“How is she then?” Calla asked as she worked at the ties around the package. “Still in good health? She tells me lots of things, but I’m always worried she keeps the bad from me. Is she happy?”

Arden nodded. “I think so, yes, though she misses her family. She thinks I don’t see her mooning by the window from time to time, but I can always tell when she’s thinking of home. Her eyes take on this… mist, I guess you could say. She looks like she’s dreaming, and I never interrupt her that way. I’ve offered to let her go, but she’s always refused it. It’s odd, really. In all the years I’ve known her, this is the longest we’ve ever been apart. She won’t so much as entertain the idea of returning to her tribe anymore.”

“She cares for you a great deal. I don’t doubt you’re all the reason she needs to stay.”

Arden smiled, thinking about Paitra. “She’s been like a sister to me for so long, it’s hard to imagine my life without her. Even though I’d miss her, all I want is for her to be happy.”

Calla took her hands and squeezed them gently. “From her letters, I can tell you she’s been concerned about how you’d adapt to married life, especially so given the pressures of a crown. She worries you’ll try to take on too much, but from what she says, she has every confidence in your abilities.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Well, I’m only as capable as she’s helped me to become.”

Calla grinned, patted Arden’s hands, and leaned back. “We are all guides for the path of the
asahan’dril
. I’m glad to have met you finally.”

She scoured her memory for the word, putting together the pieces silently. “The many beacons?”

“Everyone carries a light inside them, riyah.” Calla’s tone slipped over her, soothing as a lullaby. “But some, the asahan’dril, shine brighter than all, carrying more light inside of one. It is they who must be protected and cherished, for they are the ones who will usher us into times of great peace. I suspect this is why Paitra has stayed with you so long. Now that you’re here, I see it plainly myself.”

She waved it off, embarrassed to be spoken of so highly when she’d done nothing to merit the praise. “I don’t think I’m anything at all like that. All I want is to see Valentia heal. The rift between worlds may have closed, but much remains broken in the kingdom.”

Calla’s enigmatic smile was precisely the same as Paitra’s when she was being stupid, flustering her terribly. She watched Arden flounder for a moment before turning her attention back to her sister’s gift. If she had more to say on the subject, she kept it to herself, instead remarking on the contents of the package, accompanied by a few grateful tears as she read Paitra’s letter and smelled the brick of Moth’hari tea. Not long after, Ehlren’s head poked inside the tent flap.

“If you ladies have nearly finished, I’m told that the midday meal is ready.”

Arden swallowed heavily, knowing that meant she’d have to see Darius, and likely Naya, again. How should she behave? He’d know she’d be upset, but she wasn’t at all excited about potentially bursting into tears in front of the entire Ansere’th clan.

“Wait one moment.” Calla stood and stepped outside, calling to one of her children. A minute or two later, she returned, her face full of calm understanding. “I’ve asked Veni to bring our meal here, if that’s all right. There’s still so much I’d like to speak to you about if you’ll allow me.”

Releasing a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding, she nodded, grateful. “Of course. I’d like that very much.”

As they waited for her son to bring their food, Calla brewed some of the Moth’hari tea, the scent of it instantly comforting Arden with memories of the home she’d grown up in. The aroma of smoky dendra root and bouquets of sweet honeysuckle brought back simpler times, when sharing childhood secrets with Paitra beneath the weeping willow was her favorite pastime.

“You know what they were to each other then?” Calla asked quietly over the rim of her wooden cup.

She stared at her a moment, caught off guard, then nodded silently, lowering her gaze to her tea.

“She is elata’hem, riyah, and will not stray from her vows. You’ve nothing to fear from her.”

Arden tried to reply, but the words stuck in her throat, like a marble wedged itself in her windpipe.

“Ah,” she murmured softly. “So it’s him you worry about.”

Setting her cup aside, Arden folded her hands in her lap. She was so like Paitra, so immediately familiar, she couldn’t hide her truth from her. No matter how much she willed them not to, errant tears slipped down her cheeks.

Calla’s arms gathered her up gently, pulling her against her shoulder as she smoothed Arden’s hair. “It’s all right, riyah. I hear your heart. I may be little more than a stranger, but I know you as I know Paitra. Tell me your burdens, and I will share them with you in as much as I can.”