Lachlei (42 page)

CHAPTER Eighty-Seven

Cara stared as an army of warriors, larger than anything she had seen yet, filled Darkling Plain. “By Rhyn’athel’s mane
—
who are they?” She turned to Haukel, who shook his head.

“They’re not the
Braesan
,” Haukel said. “They look alive.”

Cara’s eyes scanned the warriors. Red and gold manes and surcoats shone in the sun. “They’re
Chi’lan
,” she whispered. “But I’ve never seen so many.”

“Not all
Chi’lan
,” came a familiar voice. “Though I suspect Rhyn’athel considers me one of his warriors.”

Cara turned and saw the
Elesil
king standing beside her. “Conlan!” she gasped and hugged him. “By the gods! You were dead!”

“
Were
,” Conlan said. “But not of this world, either. Rhyn’athel forced Areyn to give up his warriors.”

“Areyn has lost the dead?”

Conlan shook his head. “Not entirely. Those who were loyal to Rhyn’athel will return to the Hall of the Gods. And I suppose, those who have aided Rhyn’athel’s cause…”

“Then, you won’t be staying?”

He shook his head. “Not long. I’ve already spoken to Rani, she is now queen of the
Elesil
.” He eyed her as she lowered her head. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Cara admitted. “I’ve felt so…” She shook her head. “Damn it, Conlan! I’ve felt responsible for your death.”

“The price of being
Chi’lan
…”

“
Chi’lan
,” she muttered. “I don’t know what it means to be
Chi’lan
.”

Conlan gazed at her, his silver eyes filled with sympathy. “You do, Cara, but right now, you feel lost. Your kindred is nearly destroyed because of what Areyn did.”

“Why didn’t Rhyn’athel stop this?”

“Why does the Wyrd weave the web it does?” Conlan shrugged. “Who can say? And if the god would answer to you, would he give you an answer that would satisfy you?”

Cara smiled grimly. “I suppose not.”

Conlan gripped her shoulder. “You have much work to do,
Chi’lan
, to rebuild your kindred. Your father is still among the living.”

“Silvain is still alive?” she said. “He won’t speak to me.”

“Perhaps not now, but he’ll need you.” Conlan looked at the other renegade
Silren
. “He’ll need all of you to rebuild what is left.” He hugged her. “Go
—
find Silvain,
Chi’lan
.”

Cara nodded. She mounted a horse and led the
Silren
towards the enemy’s wounded.

*****

“Fialan?” Lachlei whispered. Before her stood her former husband as she had remembered him. Fialan stood next to Lochvaur and a
Chi’lan
woman.

Lachlei ran to him and they embraced. Rhyn’athel watched stoically as Fialan held her and kissed her.

*****

Brother?
Ni’yah’s voice spoke in Rhyn’athel’s mind.

Not now, Ni’yah,
Rhyn’athel said heavily.
I don’t want to discuss this. I knew it could happen…

*****

Lachlei pulled away and glanced back at Rhyn’athel. “It is good to see you, Fialan.”

Fialan smiled at her. “Indeed, Lachlei,” he said, glancing at Eshe. “It looks as though things have changed.” He paused. “Walk with me.”

How could she explain her love for the warrior god?
Dread filled her heart. “Fialan, I…”

“Listen to me, Lachlei,” Fialan said. “I know already about Rhyn’athel…”

“You do? How?”

“Lochvaur
—
he told me.”

“How does he know?”

“Lochvaur is, well, he’s more than a godling, even though he won’t admit it,” Fialan said. “Lochvaur told me that death had a way of changing things. He was right.”

“Fialan,” she raised her hand, causing him to fall silent. “I believed you were dead. I was your wife, and I will respect that vow if you hold me to it, but many things have changed since we parted. I could not love you as before. I am Rhyn’athel’s now.”

“I know,” Fialan said. “I understand now that I was never intended for you
—
you were intended for Rhyn’athel. I didn’t believe it until I saw you at Caer Lochvaren. I love you and I always will, but I know that you and I were not meant to be.” He paused. “Do you love him?”

“Deeply, Fialan. I have never loved anyone more.”

“I know this. I could never be here with you, and you would have to come with me to
Athelren
. But, it is not your time.” Fialan shook his head. “What of Haellsil? And what of your unborn sons?”

“You know of them already?” Lachlei asked, frowning. “Does the entire army know?”

Fialan chuckled. “They may. Lachlei, our son, Haellsil, will be a great warrior in his own right, but the sons you will carry will be greater still. They’ll be sons of Rhyn’athel, same as Lochvaur.”

Lachlei glanced at Eshe, noticing her for the first time. She could see the fear in Eshe’s eyes.
Fialan? Could Fialan have fallen in love with her?
“You love her, don’t you?”

“Eshe?” Fialan smiled. “Yes, I do. One doesn’t go through
Tarentor
and battles without feeling something for those who fight beside you. Somewhere in this war, I fell in love with her.”

“Then, you release me?” Lachlei held her breath.
Could Fialan have found his soul-mate as she had?

“There is nothing to release, Lachlei, my death broke our bond. We have no mind-link, and even Rhyn’athel would recognize that,” Fialan said. “I owe Rhyn’athel this, if naught else.”

Lachlei held him, tears streaming down her face. She laughed. “Fialan, I will always love you.”

“And I, you.” Fialan paused. “Go to him, Lachlei.” He kissed her on her forehead and smiled.

Lachlei turned and strode back to Rhyn’athel. Rhyn’athel straightened, wonder on his face. “Lachlei?”

Lachlei smiled and took Rhyn’athel in her arms. “Rhyn, I couldn’t leave you,” she whispered as they embraced.

CHAPTER Eighty-Eight

Lochvaur turned to Fialan. “It’s time for you to go,” he said. “And it is time for me to say good-bye.”

Fialan stared. “You’re not coming to
Athelren
?”

Lochvaur shook his head. “Areyn Sehduk still exists, my friend.
Athelren
, for all its grandeur and beauty, bores me greatly. I’m a warrior first, Fialan. Why do you think I accepted my fate in
Tarentor
?”

“You could’ve left at any time,” Fialan said in wonder. “Areyn wasn’t keeping you there
—
you allowed yourself to be his slave. Why?”

“The way to defeat one’s enemy is to know him,” Lochvaur said with a wry grin. “Neither Rhyn’athel nor Ni’yah could enter Areyn’s realms or learn Areyn’s secrets
—
but I could.”

“You were a spy.” Fialan shook his head. “Areyn Sehduk misjudged you.”

“Indeed, he did.”

“But, where will you go?” Fialan asked. “You will have no body in this world.”

Lochvaur glanced at Lachlei.
Ah, but I will,
he replied in mindspeak.

Fialan stared at him.
You can be reborn?

I like the name ‘Lachlan.’ It means ‘champion’ — did you know that?
Lochvaur said casually, an evil glint in his eyes.
With each incarnation, I do change. I become stronger, but I do forget much. Farewell, Fialan. Perhaps in another life, we will meet again.

With that, Lochvaur disappeared. Fialan felt swept up and the world spun around him. Then, Fialan and the other
Chi’lan
found themselves staring at a great walled fortress, gleaming white, at the base of mountains so tall they touched the sky. Twin golden suns shone in the sapphire sky.

Eshe laughed. “We’re here, Fialan! We’re in
Athelren
!” She hugged Fialan.

“Lachlan,” Fialan said, thoughtfully. “It has a ring to it.”

*****

Cara and Haukel rode among the
Silren
wounded. The battlefield was burnt and bloody, filled with the dead, the dying, and scavengers. Thousands of
Eltar
and
Silren
bodies lay in the sun. She looked from side to side at the carnage. Those
Silren
still alive looked on her with hatred — she wore the red and gold colors of the warrior god, not the colors of the
Silren
. Both she and Haukel dismounted.

“What are you doing here?” demanded a lower-ranked
Silren
noble named Essil. “Isn’t it enough that you’ve served the enemy?”

Haukel gripped Cara’s shoulder, but the daughter of Silvain was not dissuaded. She smiled grimly. “I was not the one who fought for the death god,” she said. She looked around. “Where’s my father?”

Essil shook his head. “He won’t see you.”

“I think he should be the one to decide that,” she said. She looked over and saw her father’s standard. As she walked towards the standard, she saw the carnage of what had been the top
Silren
nobles. Nearby lay her father, Silvain. Not dead, but wounded. He looked up at her with pale eyes.

“You,” he whispered. “My daughter…” He stared into the sky. “You’ve come to gloat
—
to watch an old man die.”

“No,” Cara said softly. “I’ve come to take you home.”

“You’re
Chi’lan
,” he spat.

“I am Rhyn’athel’s warrior,” she said. “I am also your daughter.”

“You can’t be both.”

“I am,” she said. She glanced up at Haukel, who knelt on Silvain’s other side. She laid her hands against his wounds, using her first-blood powers to heal him. “Help him up.” Together, Cara and Haukel brought Silvain to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Silvain asked.

There was pity in Cara’s smile. “We’re going home.”

Epilogue

“The gales are early this year.”

Modolf stared out of the window at the dark clouds and the angry gray-green swells of the North Sea. A
Shara’kai
of
Eltar
and
Ansgar
mix, Modolf inherited his stature from his
Ansgar
side. He stared at the sea, his own dark eyes in turmoil as he heard the baby cry again.

“She’s dead,” Saeunn said. Saeunn was his wife of three years. The shock of silver that ran through her hair was the only indication she was
Shara’kai
. “She lost too much blood in the birth. The child’s alive
—
a boy. He looks
Eltar
, same as his mother.”

“What is a pureblood doing here?” Modolf mused, staring out at the sea. He had heard rumors of a war among the
Eleion
—
news traveled even to this far place. He frowned. “Maybe she was an exile.”

“Maybe. And maybe she got lost.”

“Did she tell you her name?”

“Imdyr.”

Modolf spat. “
Eleion
name. I bet she was a witch.”

“She was practically a child,” Saeunn said. “She wanted her baby called
Allarun
.”

Modolf frowned, staring at the sky. The gales were early. “We should leave the child to the gods,” he said at last.

Saeunn stared. “You can’t be serious
—
it’ll die.”

“Then, that’s what the gods want.”

“It’s not what
I
want.”

Modolf frowned again. Saeunn had lost their own son in a stillbirth only a week ago. “We can try again.”

“No.” Saeunn shook her head. “He’ll be my son.”

Modolf looked into the sky again. A storm was coming.

*****

Lachlei held her infant son, Lachlan, rocking him gently. His twin brother, Elsonre, had already fallen asleep in their crib. They looked alike in many ways, but Rhyn’athel had assured her that they were fraternal, not identical, twins. Perhaps they looked so much alike because they looked like their father. They had his steel-colored eyes, and their hair was deep red and streaked with gold. Even at a few months old, their faces were angular and held their father’s strong jaw line.

The infant yawned and closed his eyes. It was nearly dusk and well past his bedtime. Lachlei had relieved her servants, hoping to perhaps spend a quiet night in her chambers.

It had been a year since Rhyn’athel’s victory over Areyn. The
Lochvaur
had reclaimed and rebuilt Caer Lochvaren and now Lachlei had private quarters built from stone rather than wood. Stone would eventually replace wood throughout Caer Lochvaren, making the city impregnable except to the longest sieges. Rhyn’athel had helped design the city after his own fortress-city in
Athelren
.

Rhyn’athel had stayed with the
Lochvaur
, helping them repair the terrible damage done. Rhyn was constantly beside them, whether training
Chi’lan
or guiding the building and repair of the fortifications.

Rhyn’athel had stayed with Lachlei. He had adopted Fialan’s son as his own and had already taught Haellsil to speak at two years old.

Lachlei heard a noise and turned. She saw Rhyn’athel standing beside her.

“He’s very much like his father,” she remarked smiling.

“Lachlan?” Rhyn’athel grinned. “I’m not surprised.”

“He has a fiery temper and the most piecing silver eyes,” she said. “A born troublemaker and a warrior, if there is such a thing.”

The warrior god chuckled. “That, I don’t doubt.” He kissed her. “What of Elsonre?”

“He’s a thinker
—
I think a tactician,” Lachlei replied. “Analytical. They almost complement each other. I might think you’d have planned them this way.”

“Planned?” Rhyn’athel said, with an expression of feigned innocence. “Beloved, would I have planned such an occurrence?”

“Ni’yah is a bad influence, and you are a bad liar,” she replied. She gazed at Lachlan. “He’s finally asleep
—
do you want to hold him?”

Rhyn’athel took his young son in his hands and cradled him gently. “They are so like me,” he admitted. His eyes held a glimmer of sadness. He walked over to the crib and gently laid the baby next to his brother.

Lachlei leaned against him. “What is wrong, Rhyn?” she asked. She met his gaze. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Rhyn’athel shook his head. “I cannot lie to you,” he confessed. “I can’t stay in this world for much longer
—
I must return to
Athelren
.”

“It’s that damn Truce, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I can’t stay here.”

“What happened in the
Fyr
, Rhyn?” she asked. “You never told me the entire story.”

Rhyn’athel shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell, beloved. In order to control the
Fyr
, I had to become part of it. A definite risk, yet one I was willing to take. Within the fire, I met the dragon, Haegl, once again.”

“Haegl
—
the black dragon you rescued?” she said in wonder. “What happened?”

“The dragons are creatures of the
Fyr
, but their lives are tied to it. I agreed to give him what he most desired for what I desired.”

“Control over the
Fyr
—
for what?” she mused.

“Their freedom from the
Fyr
.” He smiled. “It seemed a fair trade. But even with the dragons’ help controlling the
Fyr
, I hadn’t enough power to break through to
Elren
. Your freeing Ni’yah and Lochvaur allowed me a way back.”

“It was Lochvaur. Despite all the torture, he still defied Areyn Sehduk. Why does Areyn despise Lochvaur so? Areyn’s hatred for him seems to even surpass his hatred for you.”

“Areyn hates me as much, but can’t do much to me. But there is a Wyrd prophecy that Areyn fears that may someday come true…”

“That is?”

“That one of my sons may destroy him.”

“But you said
Athel’cen
can’t be destroyed,” Lachlei reminded him.

Rhyn’athel shrugged. “Not any way that I know of.” He paused. “When I returned, I pinned Areyn against the World Tree. He agreed to abide by the Truce for the time being.”

“That’s all?”

“I won my dead,” Rhyn’athel said. “Those who serve Ni’yah and me are no longer Areyn’s.”

Lachlei shook her head. “In all that fighting
—
in all those battles
—
what did you win?” she asked.

Rhyn’athel pulled her close. “You.” He glanced at his sons. “And them. And, of course, Ni’yah’s and my warriors.”

“But you could not gain
Elren
?”

“Areyn would give me
Tarentor
before giving me
Elren
, beloved,”
Rhyn’athel replied. “Even if I forced him to swear by the blood that flowed in his veins, his word means naught. He would still continue to undermine me.” He sighed. “Lachlei,
Elren
is but one of my worlds. I have three others that must be looked after
—
and Ni’yah can’t shoulder all my work.”

Lachlei’s throat tightened. “Rhyn, will you return?”

Rhyn’athel closed his eyes and held her. “No,” he whispered. “I can’t…” He held her as she wept.

“I wanted you to see Lachlan and Elsonre grow up. I wanted you to stay with me forever…”

“Do you think I would abandon you?” Rhyn’athel chided, gently lifting her chin to meet his gaze. “Don’t you think I will see my sons grow? Lachlei, I will always be with you, you know that, even if I can’t be here in
Elren
with you.”

“I know,” she said, drying her eyes.

Rhyn’athel smiled and ran his fingers through her hair. “Ah, Lachlei, it won’t be long when we are together in
Athelren
.”

“By a god’s reckoning or a mortal’s?”

“By my own reckoning,” Rhyn’athel replied. “I cannot bear to be parted from you long.” He sighed. “I have already spoken to Cahal
—
he will be Lachlan and Elsonre’s foster father. And then, of course, there is Ni’yah…”

Lachlei laughed, despite her tears. “Are you trying to corrupt your sons?”

Rhyn’athel chuckled. “Ni’yah isn’t my first choice as a role model, but he is my brother and an
Athel’cen
. He can teach my sons what they need to know.” He took her hands and kissed them, placing a ring on her finger. It was a simple band of intertwining patterns.
Beloved,
he said in mindspeak.
You will not be far from me.

Lachlei stared at him as he opened his mind to her.
You wish to mind-link?
she said in awe.
Is that even possible with a mortal?

I will make it possible, beloved. Will you accept it?

Yes.
Lachlei closed her eyes as she felt the mind-link form between them. Rhyn’athel’s presence within her mind was almost overwhelming.
Like staring into the sun after being in the dark,
she thought. His fierceness, power, and love flowed through her. Slowly, the force of his presence dimmed. When she opened her eyes, she knew he was gone.

Gone, and yet, not. Lachlei could still feel the warrior god’s presence and emotions as he left her.
Loneliness. Regret for leaving her. Love.

Lachlei twisted the band on her finger, and it glowed softly in the waning light. Rhyn was with her even now. The mind-link was his gift to her; his promise that he would never leave her. This time, nothing would break the mind-link. Not even death.

She walked to the window and stared into the twilight sky. The stars were slowly winking into the velvet night. The link between them caressed her gently.

Rhyn was right. It would not be long.