The Jewel of Kamara (The Delthenon Chronicles) (34 page)

Colbert
crouched down and placed his head against Leandra’s. “I love you,” he
whispered. “You were braver than me.”

“Only
wiser,” she murmured.

“Tempani,”
her
niska
called out as blood gushed from Leandra.

The
older woman held the folds of her stomach closed as Dahlia stitched it
together. Tempani disappeared inside herself and tried to mend her insides.
They were a mess. She tried to find the source of all the bleeding. Leandra’s
life force flickered faintly.

Tempani
screamed in her head, urging Leandra to stay with her, but she was moving
further and further from her. She had crossed over. Tempani saw
Tritus
welcoming her with open arms. Leandra glanced back
and smiled at her before taking the God’s hand and they were gone.

Tempani
staggered backwards, her hands covered in blood. She stared at the mess she was
standing in and felt the bile rising in her throat. The screeching cries of the
baby rang in her ears, and she covered them in an effort to drown it out. To
drown out the cries of a man who had lost the most important thing in the
world. She couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t bear to be near him after she’d failed
him.

She
ran from the tent. Tears streamed down her face, and as they did, droplets of
rain fell from the sky that had been blue moments ago. She ignored her friends
calling after her as she ran for the river,
Tilaw
at
her heels.

She
heard the gong behind her to signal a death, and it brought her tears down
harder. She plunged into the water, watching the blood as it washed from her
body and drifted down the stream.

She
let out a scream. Her powers were supposed to make her stronger. She should
have been able to save Leandra as well as the baby; otherwise what was the use
of being a sorceress? She wasn’t supposed to have limitations. She was
powerful! Why hadn’t the Goddess helped her and given her more strength so she
could save them both? Wasn’t she her vessel? She should have been better
equipped.

Tilaw
whined from the bank.
I know. I don’t want
to cause a flood, do I?
But she couldn’t ebb the flow. A strangled cry escaped
her lips as she tried to gulp in between racking sobs. The rain pelted down
around her, the drops bouncing off the water.

She
scrubbed at her arms, desperate to rid herself of Leandra’s blood. She couldn’t
have it on her a moment longer. It wasn’t coming off. She dove under the water
completely to fetch a rock she could use. She came back up, choking for air.

“Get
off!” She screamed as she ran the rock over her arms, scratching them with each
stroke. They now bled, and she could no longer tell what belonged to Leandra
and what was hers.

She
heard a faint splash as someone waded into the water behind her. A pair of arms
grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, forcing her into an embrace and
ripping the rock from her hand.

“I
failed,” she wept. “I couldn’t…”

Chae
held her up as her body shook, a fresh wave of tears taking hold. He offered no
words of comfort for he knew none would make a difference. He simply held her
until she had no tears left.

“I’m
sorry,” he murmured. “You did all you could.”

“It
just wasn’t enough,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “It will never be enough.
I will never be enough.”

He
pulled away from her and stooped to her eye level. “Don’t ever think that. Do
you hear me?” He shook her until she nodded. “Come on. You’re soaked through.”

The
flames grew higher as Leandra’s body became nothing more than a pile of ashes.
Tempani stood beside a stony-faced Colbert. She reached out and took his hand,
but she knew he couldn’t feel it. The numbness had set in with him, and he was
heading down a path so dark that it could destroy him.

On
his other side,
Thara
struggled to keep the baby
quiet, a baby that had still not been held by his father. Despite not knowing
Leandra, tears fell freely from her eyes.

The
elder,
Freloha
sang the Kalaowin death song, her
beautiful voice rising over the sobs of Dahlia. Without even knowing it,
Leandra had died a Kalaowin death. She had chosen her son’s life over hers. She
had chosen her death.

The
Shiasa had asked Colbert how he wanted his wife buried. If he had requested a
Kamari burial then she would have been given that, but he no longer wanted
anything to tie him to the Kamari world. They had beaten his wife savagely as
they interrogated her and left a child without a mother. From this point on, he
was Kalaowin.

Yuta,
Darby’s footman, was a mask of fury. He had gone to the
safehouse
where Leandra had been placed only to find her broken body huddled in the
bedroom. He had ridden for days to reach the tribe, but it had been too late.

As
Freloha’s
voice faded, her
niska
stepped forward with her
niski
one step behind her.
She doused the flames and gathered the ashes. She hobbled
somberly
over to Colbert and offered them to him.

Colbert
took them from her hands and stepped off to the side. He held them above his
head and allowed his wife’s remains to catch in the wind and drift to their
final resting place. He placed the urn back on the ground and walked away.

Tempani
went to follow him, but her
niski
grabbed her arm.
“He needs to grieve on his own.”

She
sighed and nodded, understanding his need, so she followed her friends and sat
at camp as they mourned a woman who had been taken from the world too soon.

Tempani
and Dahlia entertained the others with stories of Leandra - of the conversations
they shared, the way she sang to herself as she worked and the private jokes
she shared with her husband.

“She
was a wonderful friend,” she said quietly. “It’s strange to think that I’m
never going to see her again. Or get advice from her.”

“No
one is lost in death,”
Freloha
said.

Her
voice made Tempani jump. She had not realized anyone else had joined them, but
when she looked up, she saw that the tribe had gathered.

“They
live on through our stories. We must never be so sad in grief that we can’t
talk about them.”

“After
someone in the tribe is gone, we all gather and share our memories of them,”
said
Dimpa
. “We did not know her so we have listened
to your stories instead, and now her memory lives on with all of us.”

“Often
tribes will gather to remember someone who has belonged to both,” her
niski
explained. “When I am gone my former tribe will come
together with this family and remember me. You have shared Leandra with a
Kalaowin tribe and your Kamari tribe. That is very special.”

Tempani
smiled sadly as she looked around her. Would all these people gather to
remember her when she passed on?

The
stories and drinking went long into the night. Her friends sat amongst the
tribe, and she watched the
defenses
dropping. Through
this tragedy, a new union could be forming.

Tempani
squeezed in next to Dahlia and rested her head on her friend’s shoulder. “Tell
me a happy story,” she whispered. “I need to be reminded of the good things in
this world.”

“What
would you like to hear? A tale of fairies or beautiful princesses? A triumph of
good over evil?”

“Something
real. Tell me how you fell in love with Chae.”

“That’s
an easy one.” Dahlia smiled and pressed her lips to Tempani’s head. “It was
Xanthir that first caught my eye. He finally asked me to a ball, and I thought
I might die from the excitement of it all. In my head I was planning our
wedding. Imagine that!”

“I
can’t imagine you married to him.”

“And
for good reason. He is lovely, but as you know, he is, well he’s Xanthir.”

“You
can call him arrogant, Dahlia.” She shook her head, still amazed by her
friend’s kindness. “And he loves women.”

“Well,
yes, and at the ball he spent most of the evening chatting to Lady
Jessamy
, who had accompanied Madoc. I was heartbroken and
sat there quietly as he led her away to dance.”

“I
would have said something.”

“You’re
braver than me.”

“And
you’re kinder than me.”

“You
think too highly of me,” she whispered. “I was left at the table with Chae, and
I was terrified. I was brought up to fear and hate your people, and your
brother was intimidating. He had barely spoken through dinner, and if he had,
it was only to Madoc or Xanthir. I now know that he was like that because they,
and Nic, were the only people who ever spoke to him.”

Tempani
frowned, sad for her brother as she thought of him sitting there each night
feeling alone. Just as she had in the convent.

“I
got all flustered with the silence and ended up blurting out a question about
horses because I knew Kalaowins liked animals. And he gave me that smile of his
that still makes my stomach flutter and told me a story of the two of you.”

“Is
that when you knew you loved him?”

“I
was still terrified of him!” She laughed. “But he had me intrigued. From that
night on I would seek him out. I wanted to hear him talk. To watch the way his
eyes lit up when he was passionate about something.” She sighed. “And then one
night he kissed me, and my world changed.”

“When
was that?”

“One
season before you arrived.”

“And
then all the secrecy.”

“I
wanted to tell everyone, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He knows my family will
disown me and that people at the palace will turn their backs on me, but I
don’t care. I’m a woman; I already face hardships.”

“There’s
a difference between being a woman and being Kalaowin.”

“Yes,
but at the end of the day we’re all facing an uphill battle. As long as we all
stick together, we can overcome it.”

“Please
never change,” Tempani whispered as she wrapped her arms around her. “I need
your positivity in my life.”

—

Nic
was drowning. In requests for help. In pleas for food. In debt. His father had
drained the kingdom’s resources. Raising taxes had done nothing to help. He now
understood why his father had been pushing the marriage to Princess
Naleeni
.
Galiena’s
wealth would
have turned things around.

He
had thought he would make a good king. That he could make a difference in
Kamara. But now it seemed he would spend his reign just trying to stay afloat.

He
had barely slept since Teddy left. His weeks had been filled with Parliament
meetings where they planned his coronation and discussed the threat of the
commoners, who had not stopped rioting since Wimarc’s death. And there was the
threat of the Kalaowins, as Hallam pointed out at every opportunity. His uncle
was trying to convince everyone that Tempani was planning a rebellion with the
Kalaowins. And Nic knew he had the ear of the most influential nobles,
convincing them that the throne was not secure.

Nic
didn’t believe Hallam was behind his father’s death, but he wasn’t sure of his
motives now. Did he want the crown? Or did he just want to rid the kingdom of
the Kalaowins? Well Nic wasn’t going to let either option happen. He was born
to be king. It was all he’d ever known, and all he ever wanted. He hated the
way his father and his ancestors before him had ruled. He was going to make a
difference.

He
rubbed his eyes and yawned. He had been holed up in his study for most of the
day. His back ached from hunching over his desk. He rolled his neck around,
trying to stretch out the pains.

None
of this was how he pictured it. Chae and Madoc were supposed to be here and
running the King’s Guard and the Raiders. Darby’s wisdom was to counsel him.
And Tempani was meant to be by his side.

Instead
he was alone with only Xanthir by his side. And Dagan. He looked up when his
bodyguard walked in.

“It’s
late, your Majesty.”

Nic
waved his hand at the reports on his desk. “These don’t understand the need for
sleep.”

“They
will when you’ve run yourself into the ground, and there’s no one here to read
them.”

“Any
word on Hallam?”

Dagan
shook his head. “If he was behind it, he’s covered his tracks well. My people
have found no trace of treason.”

“Teddy
was mistaken.” He got to his feet. “I never did believe him responsible. They
were brothers.”

Dagan
held the door open for him. “You always see the good in people.”

“Some
would say it was foolish.”

“Only
behind your back.”

Nic
laughed. The sound was foreign to his ears after these past months. “Then they are
the fools. My people are free to speak their minds.”