Wrath of Lions (15 page)

“We hid behind an outcropping of stone,” Yorn the twin continued, “and watched it gallop across the road and disappear into the hills. We were about to make pursuit when a great shape walked toward us, dust billowing all around him.”

“It was Ashhur,” said Allay.

“Are you certain?” Bardiya asked.

“As certain as if it were our own father,” Yorn insisted.

“What did he do?”

Yorn said, “He stopped in the middle of the road, where the antelope had disappeared into the forest. He snapped his fingers and it emerged, walking right up to him. Ashhur touched the beast on the nose, and it collapsed dead, right then and there.”

“Then others emerged from the east, so many that the land was swallowed by their ranks. Thousands of them. Perhaps hundreds of thousands—we couldn’t tell. The noise was unbearable. Ashhur handed a group of men the antelope, then called out. A whole school of the beasts appeared from behind us, undaunted by the crowd. All of them were slain by spears, then taken for feasting. After that, Ashhur and a strange-looking man on horseback set off again.”

“Strange looking? How so?” asked Bardiya.

“Strangely shaped,” said Yorn. “Red hair, hunched back, but his arms might have been as big as yours.”

Bardiya nodded. So it had started. Ashhur was gathering his children, and Patrick was with him.

“Did you reveal yourselves?” he asked.

Allay shook his head. “We remained hidden until nightfall, then ran back home.”

“Yet,” said Yorn, “I believe our god saw us. His eyes glanced toward our rock at one point, and I felt all numb inside. Allay said he felt it too.”

To be expected,
thought Bardiya. He looked to the two young girls who had stepped forward with the others.

“Sasha, Marna, please tell me your tale.”

The youngsters, both of them eight years old, exchanged a look and smiled. Little Sasha raised her chin with pride. Her skin was much lighter than most who resided in Ang, like cream sprinkled with cinnamon.

“Marna don’t talk,” she said in her angelic voice. “She don’t know how.”

Bardiya ruffled her short, curly hair. “That is fine. You can tell it.”

“Well, me and Mar were out with Father getting pretty flowers. By the skinny river near Ashhur’s big house. Red ones, yellow ones, purple ones—all the pretty ones. We had three baskets full. It was
great
, but no one was there.”

“Safeway was empty?”

The girl nodded, then her cheeks flushed. She looked to her friend, who shifted from foot to foot with downcast eyes.

“Go on, Sasha,” Bardiya said.

“I can’t,” she said quietly. “I’m scared.”

The crowd around them murmured.

He touched the side of her face, his hand larger than her head. “Go on. There is nothing to fear. I will not hurt you.”

The little girl nodded. “The village was empty, but I heard people yelling,” she said, her voice shaking. “Lots of them. Mar screamed and fell. I was in the big fat trees, and when I ran to her, I saw scary men on the other side of the skinny river. They had shiny clothes and spears.”

“What were they doing?”

Sasha shrugged. “Walking. They had horses. And carts. And…and…”

“And what, my dear?”

She leaned in close to him and, her tiny voice trembling with terror, said, “Heads on sticks.”

Bardiya pulled back and smiled at her, humming a soft, sweet tune. He then beckoned the silent Marna forward and wrapped both of them in a hug. By the time he released the girls, they had regained their composure, and Marna grinned at him from behind tears. Their parents came to retrieve them, their whispered thanks barely audible above the crowd’s murmurs, and then Onna Lensbrough took center stage.

“My Lord, I need to tell you my tale,” he said hurriedly.

Onna was a man fast approaching agedness, with a long white beard and deep crow’s feet around his eyes. He was rarely seen in Ang, preferring to sail his
Kind Lady
across the Thulon Ocean’s open waters. To find him freely on dry land, before such a crowd, was a bad omen.

Bardiya ran a hand through his own close-cropped hair. “How many times have I told you not to call me ‘Lord,’ Onna? Ashhur is the only lord of this land. Now tell your story.”

“Okay. So I was…well, I was out trawling…you know, the bluegills are migrating north this time o’ year. Then I see these two ships—largest ones I ever seen. Three sails each, tall as the biggest pine tree in Stonewood. They float right on by me like I warn’t even there…almost hit the
Kind Lady
. Would’ve tore her in two.”

Bardiya frowned.

“It’s not rare for ships to sail through our waters,” he said.

“Yes, but…this was different. I was out by the Canyon Crags, near the islands. Never seen a boat try and get through that suicide run. And they was going too fast—almost hit one o’ the crags, matter o’ fact. Too close to shore.”

“What were they after?”

“Don’t know…but they flew the Lion’s flags.”

A chorus of gasps sounded. Bardiya looked for Ki-Nan’s face, but his friend had blended into the crowd.

Onna continued. “Most ships from Neldar that come our way have different banners like…the hook and fish one. Never seen one with the Lion on it.”

“What’s it mean? Who were they?” the man asked.

It means Neldar moves at last,
Bardiya thought.
Karak sails to Mordeina, and war.
He didn’t speak his guess, however; though he had heard of the brother gods’ clash in the delta, he could not know for certain if it had happened. Yet these tales, not worrisome when taken by themselves, drew a frightening portrait when put together. Ashhur had turned against his declaration of nonviolence, and now all of Paradise would suffer.

We will not take part,
he told himself.
No matter what occurs, we will remain as our god decreed for us to be. It is the only pure way, the only
right
way.

The throng pressed in on him, working itself into a panicked state. He heard Ki-Nan’s voice rise above the others, pleading for patience and silence. Bardiya lifted himself from the ground and towered above them, holding out his arms and humming, beckoning wordlessly for them to calm themselves. They eventually did, dropping back into a hushed state. He lowered his arms to his sides and spoke loudly and clearly, hoping that even those who had not joined the assembly would listen.

“My people,” he cried, “I love you, and Ashhur loves you. These events may indeed indicate troubling times ahead, but there is no reason for you to panic. You are safe here. Our land is remote and sprawling, and it is our own. Our laws govern it, laws passed down by Ashhur himself.”

“But what of the rumors?” someone shouted. “What if Karak wants to kill us all?”

“Then so be it,” he said, earning gasps from the crowd. “Should the brother god march on us, we shall lay down our arms and praise our Lord. We shall praise him as he was and honor his teachings. But it
will not come to that.
The desert is too wide, the terrain too
formidable, for an army to risk traversing it. And our shores are protected by high cliffs and a rocky coastline. I believe that if we remain true to ourselves, we shall be safe. If Karak comes for Ashhur, it is because Ashhur has turned his back on his own teachings. We will not. We will remain perfect as we have always been, and no one shall trouble us.”

The murmurs grew louder by the time he finished, and he gestured for the people to disperse. Rather than quelling their fears, his words seemed to have cast them into a deeper state of despair and worry. Not that he could blame them. Deep down, Bardiya feared he was wrong.

Ki-Nan lingered after the others had left. He gazed at Bardiya with compassion in his soulful brown eyes. In the months since his parents’ death, it had been Ki-Nan who’d helped assuage his sour moods and the feelings of doubt. The man always seemed to know what to say and was as reliable as the sunrise, a fact that Bardiya appreciated more than he could express.

“What would you have me do, brother?” his friend asked. “I know you hid the harshest of the truths from them.”

“You know me too well,” Bardiya replied, shaking his head. “Honestly, the threats on land don’t frighten me. We’ll order our people to keep their hunting and foraging journeys to the desert and lower grasslands. No one will step within five miles of the Gods’ Road or Safeway. We’ll reign in our boundaries and stay out of sight.”

“But the dangers by sea
do
worry you.”

He nodded. “Our land pushes against the sea. Should any decide to make landfall…”

“The unknowing is the worst part, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Ki-Nan grinned. “If you’ll allow it, I will take one of the smaller skiffs and search the Canyon Crags for Onna’s lion ships. Would that help ease your worry?”

“It would, Ki-Nan,” said Bardiya, feeling greatly relieved. “You would be willing to do this?”

“Of course. Anything for you, my friend. And when I return many days from now, I will have your answers.”

He laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and then they embraced, Bardiya dwarfing even Ki-Nan’s ample height.

“Let us pray,” Bardiya said, “that those answers are not the ones we fear.”

Aullienna Meln watched the gathering from afar. There was a mob of people down there, a sea of simple clothing and dark skin that almost swallowed the gentle giant Bardiya. She hadn’t seen that many assembled since the day after she and her ilk had arrived in Ang, begging for sanctuary.

The last six months had not been easy, but life in the quaint fishing village was far superior than it had been in the dungeon beneath Palace Thyne. Here she did not starve, filthy and afraid, waiting for captors to come and take away another of her countrymen. Here she had a roof over her head and was surrounded by people she loved. But still it was difficult. Each day brought with it the fear that Neyvar Ruven’s spies would find her and her companions. She was all too aware of the distrustful looks some of the Kerrians gave her, and she found their judgment unfair. She hadn’t been among those who had murdered the seven innocents, after all. Yet as Bardiya had told her, no one had died before their time in Ker prior to that day. Her fellow Dezren elves had shattered that.

This discourse between self-pity and empathy constantly warred in her head, threatening to drive her mad.

The only thing that made life bearable was Kindren Thyne, her intended. Although they were required to remain far from the boundary of Stonewood to the west and the Gods’ Road to the
north, they still enjoyed walks in the empty plains, picnics in the forest, and hikes through the desert cliffs. They spent time alone on a small raft while the waves of the Thulon crashed against the rocks, and even practiced magic together, levitating sticks and lighting tiny fires with the tips of their fingers. They did
everything
together, and with each passing day, their bond became more powerful. During their stay, Aully had turned thirteen and Kindren, seventeen, and he had promised her that as soon as they found a permanent place to live, they would be married.

Married to her love. That was the shining beacon in the distance that kept her hopeful, even though she didn’t know if they would ever find a home to call their own. And now, months later, those precious moments they enjoyed alone were becoming few and far between.

Kindren’s arm slinked around her waist, and Aully grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull her close. Surprise made her smile.
Just when I’m at my lowest,
she thought. She caught a whiff of his scent, salt and fish and smoke, and she realized she had come to appreciate those smells because of him. His lips kissed the pointed tip of her right ear, and she felt a quivering feeling in the pit of her stomach. She fought the urge to whirl around and kiss him fully, given that so many of her people were milling about.

“What are they doing?” asked Kindren, pointing a finger at the assembly that was just now dispersing.

Aully shrugged. “Don’t know. Some talk about gods and soldiers and boats.”

“Should we be worried? And why were we not invited?”

Aullienna shrugged.

“Those are their concerns, and this is their village. We’re just visitors.”

Kindren frowned. “What if this ends up being our home permanently?”

“It won’t,” she replied in defiance. “It
never
will be. We’re going home.”

“But Aully…”

She spun around on him. “Don’t ‘
but Aully
’ me. We’ve talked about this. We belong in Stonewood or Dezerea, with our own people. Not here.” She huffed from her nose. “And besides, they’ll never accept us. We’ve been here for months, and we’re still outsiders. That will never change.”

“Aully,” Kindren said, “I know you want to go home. I do too. I want to see my parents again; I still love them in spite of their betrayal. I want to walk through the palace and marvel at the paintings of Lords past. I want to explore the crypts and be amazed by history. But that might never happen, and it’d be foolish of me to refuse to accept that possibility.”

“So you’re giving up?”

“No, not giving up, just being realistic.”