The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering (15 page)

“He
is
the high commander," Rokei said, "and if you had seen half the things
he has planned you would trust him.”

Surprised by
the support, Braon inclined his head to the guard, and then looked back to the
fisherman. “Now, what is your name?”

“Er . . .
Thacker.”

“Well,
Thacker, why don’t you allow me to explain,” Braon said, and gestured towards
the pile of maps on his desk.

Thacker
hesitated, but then followed Braon into his office. With a sweep of his hand Braon
indicated for him to sit but remained standing to push a large map of the
Giant’s Shelf towards Thacker.

“Do you know
what is coming?” Braon asked.

“I know an
army is coming to destroy us, and that it is what made everyone afraid.”

Braon nodded,
“Close. The army that is coming is not of our world, and has been created for
the express purpose of destroying all life. Because of this, we are in the
process of gathering all the races of Lumineia to defend ourselves while
Taryn—you remember him—goes to defeat this evil.”

“Taryn?”
Thacker asked in astonishment. “He helped rescue my family."

“I know, and
it is his calling to defeat Draeken. I believe it is your calling to help here,
in a way that is just as vital as Taryn’s.”

“But what can
I
do?” Thacker said, shaking his head.

“Not
you,
specifically, but your family,” Braon said and pointed at the map. “Our
greatest challenge in the coming conflict is a means to communicate between the
field and here, for orders to be given and received quickly. The issue is
distance. Twenty miles of cliff, the city, and the Lake Road are too much for a
single commander to see and respond effectively. I have broken the areas into
several commands to simplify it, but I need a way to talk to my men, to unify
them during the battle.”

Thacker leaned
back and took a deep breath, understanding lighting his eyes. “You want my family
to be the means of communication."

“Yes,” Braon
said. “We cannot survive without it.”

Thacker took
several moments as he chewed on the thought and examined Braon.

Guessing his
next question, Braon said, “I am fifteen.”

Thacker
smirked and shook his head, blowing out his breath. “I can’t believe I am going
to say this, but I think we will do it. My wife always felt . . . that there
was a reason for our link, and it appears this would be it.” Several emotions
washed over his face before he settled on determination. “What do you need from
us?”

“How soon can
you gather your children?”

Thacker
considered for a moment, and then answered, “My oldest son and daughter, Seath
and Brynn are out in the city, the rest should be in our room.” Then he pursed
his lips and said, “On second thought, three of my sons are no doubt wandering
the halls by now, getting into trouble.”

“Just how many
children do you have Thacker?” Braon exclaimed, burying his hope in mock
exasperation.

Thacker
laughed. “My wife wanted a big family, so I have seven children, two daughters
and five sons.”

Braon smiled,
using all his will to hide the triumph that had blossomed in his chest. “Gather
them and meet me here. We have much to do, and little time to do it.”

 “I’ll be back
in an hour," Thacker said, rising to his feet to clasp Braon's hand.

The moment the
telepathic fisherman had left the room Braon resisted the urge to shout. Ideas
and possibilities reverberated around his head of their own volition, plans
morphed to adapt to the new potential. For the first time since he’d understood
the extent of the calamity they faced, he felt hope pierce the shadow of fate.

We might be
able to survive
, he thought.

An hour later
Thacker returned with the rest of his family and Braon had his emotions well in
control. Entering the room, Thacker lined his children up and began to
introduce them, but Braon raised a hand.

“Let’s start
with your oldest and go slower, I have a few questions for each of them,” Braon
said, and Thacker nodded.

“This is
Seath, my oldest,” Thacker said, and a tall sandy-haired youth stepped forward
to clasp Braon’s forearm.

“Nice to meet
you sir,” Seath said, and Braon allowed a small smile.

“Seath, how
old are you?” Braon asked.

“Seventeen
sir, almost eighteen,” the young man responded, straitening to his full height.
His expression demonstrated respect and willingness to serve.

Braon nodded
and moved to the next in line. Before Thacker could say anything, the young,
brown-haired woman stepped forward and took his offered hand. “Brynn,
Commander
,
and I am fifteen if you were going to ask.” Several of the younger boys
snickered at her use of his title but Thacker quelled that with a look.

Braon smiled
at her. “I
was
going to ask, so thank you.”

Her lips
twitched and her dark eyes sparkled at his response as she took a step back. He
was surprised by the stirring he felt for the fiery young lady, but he dismissed
it and moved to the next young woman.

Shorter than
her sister, she looked at the floor instead of at him, and waited until her
father spoke her name.

“Kitu,” he
said.

“But everyone
calls her Kit,” Brynn added, with a fond smile at her younger sister.

“Is that
true?” Braon asked, and she met his gaze with bright blue eyes. Immediately she
looked away and brushed her blond hair to hide her face.

“She just
turned fourteen,” Brynn said, and Thacker pursed his lips in disapproval.

“Let her
answer, Brynn,” he said and she sighed.

“Fine,” Brynn
exclaimed. “But she doesn’t like talking to strangers.”

“I’m OK,” Kit
squeaked in a small voice.

Braon held up
a hand to forestall anything further and moved to the two boys next to their
sister. Obviously twins, they looked identical, right down to their matching smirks.

“Jason—” The first
one began—

“—and Jake.”

“We’re twins!”
they said together and someone giggled.

“I can see
that,” Braon said in amusement. “How old are you?”

“Twelve,” they
said in unison, and then laughed at each other.

Braon grinned
at them. They were the type to cause problems, and would need extra discipline
to make sure they did what was required. Moving to the next in line he found a
pudgy youth that was trying to stand taller.

“Grian, sir.
Ready and willing for orders,” he exclaimed, but his comments elicited smothered
laughter from the twins and a snide comment about him being the good one.

Braon nodded
at the overweight lad, “How old are you?”

“Ten sir, but
everyone says I act like I am older,” he said, his lips tightening at his
brothers’ words. Braon threw Seath a glance and saw the oldest brother flash
Grian an encouraging smile.
So,
Braon thought
, Seath and Grian are
the responsible ones, and get along well
.

Stepping to
the final youth, he came to a familiar face.

Daq, the
little brown-haired boy from dinner, practically danced on his feet as he
waited for his turn.

“Hello again,
Daq,” Braon said with a grin, and the boy exploded with words.

“Are we really
going to fight the bad things? I want to fight 'em, and I can too. Everyone
says I’m strong for my age and—”

Braon laughed
and said, “How old are you, Daq?”

He bounced
forward and most of his family laughed. “I’m eight. Can I have a sword? Or an
axe?” The boy’s eyes lit up at the idea of weapons and Braon crouched down.

“I will see
what I can do,” he whispered, winking. “But don’t tell your father." Daq
nodded and bit his lip before resuming his place in line.

His mind
whirring, Braon stood and moved to face the family. Mentally he ticked them off
in his head.

Seath,
responsible and strong, he could be placed anywhere.

Brynn, strong-willed
and beautiful, will rise to any challenge he put before her.

Kit, shy and
reserved, might require training or she won’t have the courage to issue orders
on his behalf.

The twins,
Jason and Jake were rambunctious to a fault, and would need the most work and
discipline.

Grian, young yet
mature, was more like Seath than any of his family and would also do well.

Daq, young and
boisterous, would be difficult to handle, but was still vital.

Braon eyed them,
his expression serious. “Do you know why I have asked that you come?”

Brynn answered
first, beating the twins by half a second. “To use our mind-link to help in the
war.” She glanced at Thacker after her blunt response. “Father told us you
needed us.”

 “I do."
Braon couldn't stop the grin. "I need your help to talk with my generals,
but there are a few things you should know first. One, this will be hard work,
and you will get little rest. You will need to be trained to respond to orders
in an instant, and to transfer information accurately and quickly. You will
need to learn a great deal about our army,
and
help us organize the
preparations. Last, you will aid our efforts during the battle. ”

Several of
them were nodding, including Thacker, but Braon raised a hand in warning.
“That’s not all. Because of your vital role, I will do everything I can to
protect you, but you
will
be targeted by the enemy—if they realize what
you are doing. What I am asking you to do is
very
dangerous.”

Most of the
young men (and Brynn) appeared even more excited by the prospect of danger, but
Thacker and Seath both glanced nervously at each other and the smaller
children.

“Thacker,”
Braon exclaimed, drawing his attention back to him. “I swear I will do
everything possible to protect your family.”

The man took a
deep breath and then looked at his children. “Do you want to do this?”

Some agreed
eagerly, others hesitated before nodding their assent, and finally Kit bobbed
her head last of all.

 “When do we
begin?” Thacker sighed.

“Immediately,”
Braon said. “We are already behind schedule.”

Chapter
12: A King's Choice

Gaze sighted
down the torch-lit range and hefted the long spear to find its balance. Finding
a comfortable grip, he swept his arm forward to launch the weapon towards a
target. Flying true, it embedded a hands breadth from the center—but not close
enough to best the prince.

He growled and
tossed his head while Anders laughed.

“Hah! I knew I
could do it better,” the prince exclaimed and beckoned with his hand. “The
wager was five silver if I remember right . . .?”

Gaze grunted
and reached into his pocket, still irritated that he’d been beaten—again. They
had been at it for over an hour now, and Gaze seemed to be on a losing streak.

Many women
thought of Gaze, with his dark blue eyes, black hair, and sharp goatee, as handsome
for a human, but he’d never been good with the ladies—unlike Prince Anders, who
always seemed at ease around the host of women vying for his attention.
Stronger and more athletic than Gaze, Prince Anders was easygoing with a quick
wit and a constant smirk that gave the prince a boyish look, elevating his
appeal. Being the crown prince of Talinor may have been a factor as well.

In many
aspects, Anders was the superior—except for one. Gaze possessed an exceptionally
rare type of magic . . . lightning. In his youth, many had laughed at the dark-haired
boy who said he could see energy in the clouds—until he’d accidently caused a
fire with a lightning bolt. Their neighbors’ resulting fear had driven his
family to sell their small farm and look for a new home. With no school at
which to study his magic, his parents had forbidden him to reveal it. Despite
their efforts, they had been forced to move repeatedly to get away from the
incident, and few after knew his secret.

Prince Anders
was one of those few. Several years ago Gaze had happened to come upon a large
group of bandits attacking the prince. All of his guards had been killed and
the prince was wounded when Gaze had leapt to his aid. They would have been
killed if he hadn’t drawn on his magic. A single bolt had been sufficient to scatter
the thieves, and Gaze and Anders had been close ever since. After Gaze lost his
parents to the plague, the royal family had welcomed him into their home.

“You want to
try again?” Anders said, clinking the bulging sack in an attempt to entice
Gaze. “I’ll double the wager.”

Gaze sighed
and shook his head ruefully. “I think I am out of coin, my friend.”

Anders
pretended to pout for a moment before shrugging. “So what do you want to do?” His
eyes glinted. “Do you want to practice some more?”

Gaze laughed
out loud and sat down at the table across from the prince. “You know I can’t
practice in public, and besides, I don’t know why we do it anyway. Last time we
were almost killed because of you.” He stabbed a finger at the prince who
appeared wounded at the accusation.

“Me? I didn’t
do anything—except get you to call down as much lightning as you could.” He flashed
a wide grin. “You sure lit that field up though, and it did prove my point. You
are
stronger than you think. By Skorn, you could light a five mile
stretch if you wanted to.”

“—
If
I
wanted to, but when would I ever
need
to?”

The prince
rolled his eyes and frowned at him. "Isn't it enough to know you
could?"

Despite his
efforts to quell it, a smile spread across Gaze’s features at the memory of so
much power. "Perhaps," he allowed.

The prince
burst out laughing and the two friends smashed their mugs together before
draining them.