The Black God's War (31 page)

Caio and Lucia each led a horse further up or down the river and dumped feed on the ground. The horses seemed even more energized than before as they ate and shuffled, swinging their tails.

“How are they still alive?” Ilario asked.

“Only by a miracle,” Caio said.

“I’ve seen quite a few of those in the last couple days.” Ilario removed their blankets from each of the horses and handed them out. “Here. If I knew we were going to gallop like that, I would have packed a hat too.” He put an arm around Caio’s shoulders. “We’ve made it this far. Let’s go down to the beach?” He stuffed his food sack into his backpack and untied his throwing spear. He walked with Lucia and Caio the short distance to the edge of the forest.

If not for the abundance of moonlight, it would have been hard to see where the water met the beach’s dark red sands. The cove was shaped like a half circle that opened out to the lake. Moderately tall cliffs surrounded it on both sides, so the waves hitting the shore were calm compared to the deeper waters beyond the nook.

“It’s beautiful.” Ilario stopped to observe the image and sound of gentle waves splashing up the sands.

“Have you seen a beach before?” Lucia asked.

“I have.” Wonderful, stretched-thin memories stirred inside him. “When I was young, my family went to the shore north of Peraece every winter. Those were our best times. For some reason, my father loosened up whenever he saw the Rezz Ocean. The rest of the year was nothing but work until our muscles ached, and his lectures about purity and duty. But he genuinely loved the ocean. He should have lived there.”

“I wish I could have met your parents,” Caio said.

“You would have liked my mother. She wasn’t the same after she got sick, though. My father wasn’t easy for anyone to relate to. I don’t think anybody did, not even my mother. He never passed up an opportunity to preach about Lord Sansone. You had to listen to him or face the whip, or else …” He punched his left palm with a fist.

“Good thing you are a part of our family now,” Caio said.

I still regret not seeing them at the end
. Ilario’s mind continued to wander, and his mouth with it. “I had to get out of there, and I did find a home in Remaes. I suppose all that hard work paid off in the end. Soldiering was easy compared to my upbringing.”

“My father bragged about you before he selected you,” Lucia said. “He was very impressed with your, as he called it, ‘perfect effort.’ That’s high praise, considering your Andaran blood.”

Ilario stifled a laugh. “Too bad my father didn’t live long enough to find out. I’m sorry for rambling. The water brings me back.”

Lucia walked over and leaned against him, wrapping her blanket around both of them. Ilario realized that if he wanted to, and if he knew how, he probably could’ve cried.

“Let’s go down,” Caio said. “I want to feel the water on my feet. The lake’s creatures won’t swim into shallow waters.”

Lucia and Ilario sat close to the water’s edge, huddled under the blanket, and Caio went into the lake up to his calves.

“How are you doing, Caio?” Ilario asked over the splashing water.

“Everything is more vivid, Ilario. Every tree, every sound. Every wave. Every word means more. I am nervous, but I am not afraid. I am not afraid to die. I don’t believe death would be the end of me. I feel the gods have a plan, and I am hopeful. War has not resolved war. The more we fight, the more we have to fight. It can’t be a coincidence that as soon as we came back from Danato’s realm, you told us about Pawelon’s proposal. Maybe The Black One is giving us a way out.”

“What else did Lord Danato say about coming here tonight?”

Lucia answered. “Not much. He told us to enjoy our time together. He said ride until you reach the beaches, the moon will be bright, and you will remember it forever.”

“It is beautiful here. It’s a shame the lake isn’t safe to sail on.” He hoped that his brooding wasn’t apparent. The influence of Danato was unsettling enough, but now the lake wouldn’t let him take his mind off his past. He didn’t think about his parents much anymore. He’d already done his grieving years ago, however unsuccessfully. When he did think of them, he always wondered if he had been a selfish son. He wondered if anyone had been there to comfort his father when the old man died.

Maybe he was thinking about them because of the duel. It would be a fair fight between the very best and most genuine man on Gallea versus one of the worst—all left to chance with nothing he could do to affect the outcome. His friend would either live or die, and he would have to watch it happen.

“How are you doing?” Lucia asked him.

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Caio walked to them and smiled with affection. “I’d like to go for a little walk, just up and down the cliffs. To see more of the lake.”

“Why don’t we stay together?” Ilario asked him.

“I won’t go far. I need a little time to think.”

How can I say no?
“Stay close enough so I can see you, all right? If you need anything, call.”

“Thank you, my friend. I will.”

Lucia stood and embraced her brother. She didn’t seem to want to let him go. She rested her head on his shoulder and sniffled, taking in quick breaths.

Ilario watched, thinking he should join her but not knowing how. Something felt wrong, absolutely wrong, but what use were irrational thoughts from an emotional man?

Caio has a lot more to think about than I do.

As Lucia pulled away from her brother, Caio said, “I love you both more than I can say. Now please, enjoy some time together.”

“Very well,” Ilario said. He watched Caio walk back up the beach to where the cliffs began.

Ilario and Lucia snuggled under the blanket. They faced northwest so that they could see Caio walking along the promontory, out above the lake. She felt the warmth of his body and the strength of his chest against her breasts.

“You’ve gone quiet,” she said.

“Just thinking about things.”

She curled an arm around his biceps and cuddled closer. “You can tell me if you want to.”

“I’m not going to be rational for the next few days. And if anything happens to him, I won’t be rational for a long time.”

“The whole idea is nonsense. It’s a farce. I don’t know how my father agreed to it.”

“We agree—uh, not about your father, but I don’t trust the pigs.” Ilario blurted a grunt of disgust. “They must know about Caio’s temperament and think he isn’t up for it. They are too good at hiding things from us.”

“No good will come from thinking about it now.” Lucia raised her face and looked up at Ilario’s wide jaw and distracted eyes. “Try thinking about something more pleasant.”

He looked into her eyes and his expression softened as he leaned closer.

She wet her lips and closed her eyes, then received his kiss. She felt warm and relaxed in her body. Bliss arose in her heart. His knuckles moved sweetly down her cheek and his other arm pushed her closer. She paused to see his light brown eyes full of tenderness for her.

This is what I want, gods. This is what I want.

She heard a man’s voice.

That’s not Caio.

“Listen,” she said. “I hear someone.”

Ilario scrambled to his feet, picking up his throwing spear from the ground. Lucia stood, tying her belt back onto her waist along with Ysa’s sword.

Two distant male voices came from the woods, laughing. “They don’t know we’re here,” she whispered.

Caio wouldn’t be able to hear the men from the cliffs. As he sat staring at the lapping water, he might not be able to hear Lucia and Ilario either.

Ysa, please alert him.

Wispy clouds swirled over the lake and a tiny fork of lightning flashed to the north. Caio looked back. Lucia waved her arms and Ilario waved his spear in the air.

The voices drew closer.

“They aren’t speaking Rezzian,” Lucia whispered. “They’re speaking Pawelon.”

Ilario headed back toward the forest and the horses, and Lucia followed him as he ran up the beach leaving heavy footprints in the sand.

Ilario readied his throwing spear. He entered the sparse forest and tried to conceal his body from the Pawelons behind a thick bamboo-like tree. Lucia positioned herself behind a tree just a few feet away from him and tried to slow her breathing. The sparse trees covered only part of the night sky, and the forest floor glittered under the moon.

The voices chattered, laughed, and drew nearer.

They approached from afar. Pawelon’s prince and his companion, the ones that attacked her.

They tracked us here. Curse you, Danato!

Ilario seemed ready to attack. Her first instinct told her to follow Ilario’s lead, but her mind wanted to direct him. She pointed the sword down, with her shield covering her chest.

Ysa, if there is to be fighting in this abandoned country, let us strike first
.

Ilario elevated his spear and pointed it in the direction of the clearing the Pawelons were about to enter. Lucia watched in a paralyzed daze as Ilario flung the spear forward.

The god Sansone stood in front of them, invisible, ten paces away. The powerful, heavyset figure clenched his hard jaw and focused on Ilario. The god carried a compact metal hammer, the type that could bend hot metal just as well as a person’s skull. In his left hand, he gripped a thick iron chain from which his holy symbol, a black anvil, dangled and nearly scraped the ground.

Ilario’s spear passed through the center of Sansone’s insubstantial form. The god, the tireless Servant of Man, frowned.

The spear hurtled toward the larger of the two targets, the man blocking their view of the prince, and sunk deep into the big Pawelon’s chest.

Chapter 46: Throwing the Spear

“WE’RE ALMOST THERE!” Aayu yelled with joy, his hands pounding on Rao’s shoulders as if beating on drums. “I’m going to lie on that beach and sleep
all day.
Good luck waking me.”

Rao laughed while admiring the beauty of the moonlit forest. The landscape told him they were close to the lake. His aching legs and feet told him he needed to sleep.

“Just lay in front of me in case the water level rises.”

“Sure! I’ll get wet and cold for you. We can’t let the prince’s beauty sleep be interrupted.”

Their laughter rose and then quieted as they entered a glade bathed in silver-white light. Rao stared up at the moon and watched a thin cloud sprint across it like a silk scarf pulled across a dancer’s face.

A piece of metal flashed at the edge of Rao’s vision.

Toward Aayu.

Spear.

In Aayu’s chest.

Rao raised his hand.

Aayu gasped, stumbled.

Rao’s fingers formed a complex forked mudra specific to his secondary
sadhana
.

His mind pierced the weapon to its core, directing it to return to its sender:

Viparyas amrakh!