The Destroyer Book 2 (28 page)

“Go ahead and try, little one.” The woman’s red lips turned upward in a mocking grin. But her eyes broke contact with mine and looked up into the sky. It seemed she was listening for something, so I stopped walking up the hill and stifled my rage. I heard nothing but the gusts moaning across the barren landscape.

The Ancient whispered words that the air stole before I could grasp them. A few more steps and I came close enough to risk a tackle. She still seemed distracted by what she heard on the wind, so I pieced together a quick series of movements in my head, rehearsed it, tried to guess how she would counter, and then executed it.

My feet dug into the soft, long grass of the hill as I leaned over and sprinted toward the copper-haired bitch. It had been a few years since I wrestled anyone, mostly because it was hard to find women partners strong enough, and men couldn’t seem to grapple and control their physical arousal, but I still remembered the movements and aimed my right shoulder into the nook of her hip. As soon as it connected I would grab behind her legs at the hamstrings and lift. The momentum would carry her to the ground, with me on top.

Of course, there were a few ways the Ancient woman might counter this attack. The most obvious being that she could wrap her right arm under my head and get me in a chokehold or possibly break my neck. To prevent this possibility, I angled my left shoulder against my cheek so that she couldn't grasp my throat. She could also step back and leverage her upper body down on top of me, snuffing the movement like a burning candle. I already had a twisting strategy in mind if that happened.

I realized I hadn’t hit her yet. Wasn’t she just a few feet from me? I spared a glance up and saw that the woman still stood twenty yards in the distance, farther up the hill than I expected. Her face looked to the sky and her lips were moving quickly, as if she bartered with a crooked merchant at a bazaar. The wind started to pick up, and her hair blew away from me like a bloody flag.

The flag had a black skull embroidered on it.

I could hear the sound of hooves in the distance. It may have been thunder, but the volume was more consistent.

“Are you awake?” I looked up the hill to the woman and our eyes met. Confusion was an emotion I had never seen on an Ancient’s face, but it was plainly etched on hers.

“Nadea?” Runir said loudly with a cough.

“What?” I struggled to pull myself out of the dream. It felt like crawling across sand. I was so tired. So exhausted.

“Did you want company for breakfast?” My eyes opened and I saw the somewhat familiar canvas roof of the tent Maerc had given me. The past few days slammed into my brain as I remembered escaping from the dungeon of the castle, and the uncomfortable conversations that came to pass with Runir's father.

“I brought you some food. Eggs and such. Are you okay?” His voice whined a bit at the end. I had ignored him since his father confronted me about the king's letter and I knew my behavior had hurt his feelings. His emotions were the least of my worries. I required time to myself so I could accept the reality of my secret and plan for my kingdom’s future. I also needed to convince them that I was grieving over the abandonment of my father while I traveled south to Brilla with the army.

“Half a minute,” I said with enough power in my voice to make it through the canvas in the tent. I threw the thick covers off of my cot, limped painfully over to the water basin stand, and splashed some of the cold liquid on my face. There wasn't a mirror in my new prison, but I was sure that my hair looked like a tangled mess from the thrashing of my dream. It mattered little though. Runir had been my friend since we were children and I doubted he would care about my appearance.

“Come in!” I yelled with a forced smile. The handsome young soldier promptly pulled back the flap of the tent, bowed over a wooden tray of food, and scooted into my quarters.

“Hi Nadea.” He stood almost half a head taller than me, but the roof was low and he slouched to avoid scraping the canvas.

“Good morning. What time is it?” I limped over to a set of stools positioned in the corner and sat down with a weak sigh.

“Hour or so after sunrise.” He moved over to the stool and sat down. He didn’t meet my eyes when he raised the tray in my direction. “I hope this is suitable for you.”

“This looks fine. I am ravenous. Thank you for bringing it.” There were half a dozen hard boiled eggs, a hand-sized block of orange cheese, and some earth-colored bread. It was a king’s feast compared to what the other soldiers in what was left of the army ate, and my mouth began to water. I had eaten little in the last few days.

“We have a little cider, but it might be too early in the morning,” Runir said with a wink. I smiled at him around a bite of cheese and grunted. He took the hint and didn’t engage me in any further conversation while we shared the meal.

I tried to remember what I had dreamt, but it was already growing fuzzy. Kaiyer had been in it, along with the Ancient woman who had been haunting me for the last four or five years. I usually remembered my dreams upon waking and wrote them down. The sudden interruption of this dream, and my inability to record it because of Runir annoyed me.

“How is your leg feeling?” he asked, turning his head to look at the flap of the washed-out white canvas tent. The annoyance of the fading dream made his innocent question seem ridiculously stupid and I couldn’t hold back my anger.

“You know damn well how my leg is feeling!” I spat at him. He looked at me in shock, lips hanging open, eyes wide and blue as sapphires in the pommel of a great sword. I felt my temperature rise and my mouth go dry.

“Nadea . . .” he stammered as his eyes glazed. There was a lump in my chest and my stomach knotted up with sadness. I took a slow breath and forced myself to be calm.

“No, wait,” I commanded. I set down the small apple I had been working on and pushed myself off of the stool. It was a short, painful hobble to the other side of the tent, where my cane rested against a chest of drawers. The bureau was made of smooth iron wood the color of dark coffee and capped with a bronzed fox head. It was beautifully crafted and had been handed down from Maerc’s grandfather, Runir’s great-grandfather.

I hated the gaudy thing.

“This isn’t your fault Runir.”

“I know, Nadea. You’ve been through a lot and I--“

“No, it isn’t okay. You’ve been my friend since we were children, you risked your life to save me from the dungeons, and you have always supported my insane desire to pursue the legends of the O’Baarni. You even spent time with Kaiyer and tried to make him feel welcome.” His face turned slightly red and he glanced at the ground. He wasn't used to me complimenting him. “I’m angry at my situation, but it isn’t useful to take it out on my kinsmen. I need to focus my aggression on productive things.”

“Like how we will get Brilla’s support and reclaim our home?” Runir looked up from the floor and smiled dashingly. Most women would have melted at the handsome man’s blue eyes, his perfect grin, and his rigid masculine jawline. I knew that Runir wished that I was like most women, but I felt no attraction to him.

“Exactly, how are the troops this morning?”

“In a shitty mood, honestly. If you felt like it, perhaps you could come out and walk amongst them? It would probably raise their spirits. They have seen little of you in the past few days.” He let out a sigh and looked at the plate of food.

“I’ll visit them. Throw me that apple.” I forced myself to smile and found that it came without effort. The fuzzy dream had improved my mood. Was it the memory of Kaiyer? Or perhaps I just needed to get back to doing what I did best: executing my goals. Seeing the troops was a big part of my agenda.

“Maybe you should brush your hair?” he said with a smirk. “It looks like you just woke up from a nightmare.” I forced a dry chuckle out and balanced on the cane while I grabbed the brush that one of the cavalry men had procured for me. After a few minutes of aggressive yanking on the polished wooden handle, my hair was reasonably straight.

“Looks just as good as the mane on my favorite horse,” Runir joked.

“It’s probably the only spare brush within ten miles.“ I wrinkled my nose at him.

“We do have women in the army, you know.”

“I said spare brush.” I stuck my tongue out at him as I ducked out the canvas flap and into the morning air.

“Shhhhharrrrr!” I gritted through my teeth as I bent over my injured leg to exit my tent. I hadn’t really gotten used to walking with the cane, but I would have the rest of my life to get accustomed to the gait. Runir either didn’t hear my gasp over his laughter or ignored it, which was good, since I needed him to stop fretting over me and concentrate on getting what remained of the army to Brilla.

The morning was chilly, and my breath steamed out of my mouth in large puffs of white smoke that rose into the fog that surrounded the camp. The gloom was common this time of the year and helped to conceal the passage of our forces through the forest south and toward the border we shared with Brilla.

“Hail Duchess,” the guard standing ten feet from the entrance to my tent said as she came to attention. I nodded to her and smiled. Yes, I felt like today would be a good day.

“At ease,” Runir commanded from behind me. “Half of the men are tearing down the camp and the others are doing some light training. Whom do you want to see first?”

“Training.” He nodded and led me through the maze of tents in various stages of teardown. I smiled at the soldiers who packed up the equipment and spoke to those that looked low in morale, which meant it took me almost an hour to make it the two hundred yards to the perimeter of the camp to view the warriors training.

“You did well raising their hopes,” Runir commented as we crested a small barrier of dirt that had been erected around the tents. “We all thought you were dead, along with the rest of the royal family.”

“My father is alive. The queen is most assuredly alive, Nanos is a psychopath, but I don’t think he would kill his mother; they always seemed to get along, better than the queen and Jessmei.” I recalled the various family get-togethers between my father and I, the king and his family, and Maerc, his wife, and Runir. I thought nothing of it, but looking back, it was clear that the queen favored Nanos over Jessmei, and the king was the opposite, favoring his beautiful and kind daughter over the spoiled son. My father hinted that his brother and the queen did not have a functioning marriage, but I didn't want to know the details.

I had never been that interested in the pursuits of the other aristocratic women. My father wanted me to take music, dance, and knitting lessons from my mother’s plethora of handmaidens. But the instruction style bored me and I spent most of my time running around the keep playing explorer. I learned how to dance after I spent years learning the footwork involved in swordplay. I learned how to sew by repairing my light field armor and stitching up cuts from soldiers in my father’s employment. I learned how to sing by reciting old ballads that described great wars.

Thoughts of my recent childhood brought up memories of Jessmei. We had very different childhoods, only sharing the benefits that royal blood gave us. She fully indulged in the upbringing of a noble woman; she could play eight musical instruments and sing almost as well as Tanya Gettil. The princess could knit, sew, and embroider beautiful garments that were prized by the nobility of the Eight Kingdoms. She knew all the traditional and modern dance movements. She hosted fabulous parties and engaged people with amazing conversation. The kinds of conversations that were so warm and sincere that she had quickly built up a parade of admirers that stretched from the nobility of Vanlourn to the chiefs of the mountain clans in the Northlands.

I never told her how much I admired her. The last few conversations we had weren’t meaningful. We broke our fast together a week before the Ancients kidnapped her. I had been upset about the progress with Kaiyer and took some of the frustration out on her during our short meal. Her big blue eyes and innocent face made her seem younger than she actually was, and I often treated her like my little sister instead of my equal. After I had started to pursue the O’Baarni, I would tell her of my travels, the ruins I explored, and the interesting people I met. I should have expected her to chase after me on this latest quest to find the O’Baarni. She had fantasized about my life so much that she wasn't proud of her own accomplishments.

“My father used to have a saying. Whenever I made a mistake he would always say: 'The best part about the past is that it is over.’” I took a deep breath as I studied the troops doing light sparring and stretching on a field before me. They looked beaten, as tired and withered as the hunched, brittle oak trees in the surrounding forest.

“He was a wise man.” Runir’s voice filled with pity.

“He is a wise man.” I tried not to spit out the words. Runir didn’t need any more anger from me. “He’s too smart to be dead. The situation during the invasion spun out of control. I’m sure he escaped. I know that he is still alive, and I hate that I made this decision to go south with you and Maerc.” I saw Runir stiffen in my peripheral vision. “But he was right. That decision is over, it was a choice I made, not one that you or your father made for me. I am responsible for my choice.”

“I wouldn’t blame you for feeling some sort of spite.”

“I’m mad at myself, but I shouldn’t be. He would want me to do this for our country. I made the decision and now I need to see it through.” Runir’s face split into a giant grin. I noticed that he had a bit of a beard and it looked good on his chiseled face. “I’m going to need you and your father’s help. I’m not used to being a leader. There was always someone else around that people would turn to for guidance. I looked to my father; he looked to the king. I feel uncomfortable with the role that your father has in mind for me.”

“We’ll help you. You have my word Nadea. I would do anything for you.” He stepped closer and I glanced away from the troops to look into his eyes. It was impossible not to see the adoration in their blue depths. For a second I wondered how our relationship would end, would Runir still feel that way about me at the conclusion of this day? What about when the whole war ended? I would need him to move on with his life, but his affection and friendship had become something I expected and relied on, like the moons rising each night. I knew I did not love him the way he loved me, but I still needed him in my life.