Chapter 2

That announcement caused quite a stir. Voices filled with gasps of disbelief and shock flitted into the air. He raised his hands, waiting for the sudden rush of surprise to calm before continuing. “I know. Let me say what is needed and those here will be able to make up their own minds.” Gradually the tense murmurs fell silent. His hands were slack at his sides, his expression even once more as he began. “Three hundred and some years ago, King Bail was murdered by a plot borne by one of the elder council. This is known history. King Bail was the last living Valda-Cree to honor Goddess Adhrer by sitting on the Kielbos throne at her behest. The reason Harmony and her mate are still alive after so much time has passed is because at the time of King Bail’s murder, they agreed to vanish with King Bail’s only living son. A baby barely a few weeks old. A secret child denied to King Bail by the very council plotting to kill him, which would end the Valda-Cree lineage cold.”

Duran was enraptured by the full tale the same as every other listener in the room, watching Jayce firmly entwine not only the history they knew but what he’d apparently learned from his parents during their meeting. None of this story was found in a history book that Duran knew of.

“With the help of mages and magic, they carried the baby to a world very different from ours. A land where the babe would be safe from those seeking his death here if his birth had been a known event. They did this all while alone, sacrificing their current connections to family and hope to have a family of their own, as it was not possible for volpes to bear children in that world. A sacrifice I don’t think anyone knew at the time nor how deep it would cut. As I myself have experienced, time is not parallel between worlds or planes of existence, between what was once my world and this one I now call home. A day spent here could be two years there, and a year there could be a hundred years here. There was no equality, and it was dangerous to travel between because of the disparity. That’s why I am here now, at this juncture centuries after the murder that tore Rinattoah to the ground even though I appear to be no older than your youngest apprentices and squires. Time is a fickle mistress and holds no rule save her own.”

He subtly turned toward Rune who nodded, what could only be construed as a confident gesture to continue. He was doing very well given the circumstances. Fierce pride surrounded Rune at Jayce’s commanding nature. More proof Rune’s visions had not lied.

“King Bail laid a plan to protect his son by sending him with his nurse and her mate, leaving instructions with the one pride he trusted wholeheartedly and unquestionably to guard his secrets, the Kinsi, as his deceased wife was of the Kinsi pride.” He faced in their direction when there was a ragged gasp from one of the groups. “Yes. I know of her, Lisana, King Bail’s mate. I’ve been studying the histories of the throne as deeply as possible and I am confident in saying I am correct.”

A throat cleared. A rich baritone voice choked with emotion spoke up, drawing everyone’s gaze. “I am Harvan, my lord, elder of the Kinsi pride. You are correct. She was a princess in our pride. A wonderful woman who was chosen by King Bail as his mate.” Several of the elders seemed awestruck someone not of their pride knew their histories and would pay homage to their line.

“I offer condolences for her loss to your families.” He imparted a bow of respect. Standing straight, his voice carried when he continued. “It took King Bail another one hundred and twenty years before the opportunity to befriend a woman who would willingly, without expectation, become a surrogate and bear his child for him even though he was not going to claim her as mate, wife, or queen.” He smiled, a sad type of smile. “I appreciate your patience. I assure you I am nearly at the end of my tale. Harmony? Nolen? Can you step forward please?”

Duran saw the way he controlled the pain mixed with joy seeing his parents after so long caused him. Tight lines bracketed his lips while tension kept his spine inflexible. The love and adoration of the couple was only present in his gaze when he followed their movement forward. When Jayce wanted to spend time with his parents, he was instead having to become more of the prince they all knew him to be. To put the people first to the point of delaying an emotionally richer reunion, ignoring or pushing away the deeper emotion they were all feeling on this day.

“King Bail swore you to secrecy, did he not?”

“He did,” his dad answered firmly.

“So only the Kinsi and yourselves know what has been passed down for generations, keeping you safe, and in effect the child you swore to protect. Am I correct?”

“That is correct.”

“Who is that child?”

Harmony sobbed softly behind a trembling hand. Duran openly witnessed the anguish and pride in Jayce pouring from her, in the way her frame shook standing next to her mate and husband.

“You are.”

“You call me by Jayce and I carry your last name to ensure my continued safety. What was King Bail’s wish?” For as strong as his voice was, there was the slightest gravel in it, the strain of the moment being forcefully contained by strength of will alone.

Nolen pulled a parchment from his travel bag. “I will read to you what only I and Elder Harvan of the Kinsi know.” He motioned over a shoulder and the elder who’d spoken previously separated from the group surrounding him to join Jayce’s dad and he studied the scroll before him.

After a thorough inspection of the parchment, he stated boldly to the room, “I, Harvan of the Kinsi pride and aged elder, do solemnly swear before all present, the parchment and the words it contains have been in our possession for over three hundred years, guarded as we promised. It has been sealed all these many years, until the arrival of Nolen and Harmony Morrow who confirmed the seal to be broken. No one alive until their return had seen its words, or heard its edicts.” He bowed deeply toward Jayce at the front of the room then stepped away to rejoin his clansmen, to let Nolen continue.

The tension seemed to grow by exponential bounds after he gave his approval of the scroll. Duran swept the crowd for any trouble, but all he could see or sense was a bated expectancy. Waiting for the culmination of Jayce’s story. A quick check with Ulcieh and Leodinn in his view agreed with him. They were all waiting for the moment of truth.

“Nolen, read aloud to everyone what is on that scroll, please.”

Jayce stood casually, not showing anyone the turmoil Duran knew the coming words could create. There was no way to prepare, as no one truly knew what the scroll held. He didn’t envy his position, but even he couldn’t have guessed at how the words on the parchment would tear through a person’s heart or gut a man’s soul.

Nolen licked his lips, then began, the tremor in his voice slowly dissipating as he did as asked. “I, Bail Sahrama of the blessed Valda-Cree pride, do request for the honorable Kinsi pride to offer safe haven to Nurse Harmony Morrow and her mate, Nolen Morrow at any time after the signing of this decree as needed with no demand for recompense for your aid. With this plea, I also beg you protect my only son, Jayce Sahrama, born to me in secret. Circumstances have led me to believe my life is in danger, and I fear for my newborn son. Harmony and Nolen implemented arrangements even I don’t know to ensure my son’s safety. It is believed prudent if all my security fails and I am forced to reveal his existence to the council, to not have the knowledge to betray him, my flesh and blood.”

Duran’s gaze tore from Nolen to Jayce. The ambivalence in his stance was gone. His jaw was tight as he swallowed several times, his eyes bright and glassy, though no tears fell as he stared forward into the room. To learn so much about your life in front of so many and not be able to react to it had to be killing him. The emotional weight was excruciating and he was only witnessing it.

Nolen cleared his throat, taking a moment to gather himself. The room was so still, the merest shuffle of feet seemed thunderous. Duran didn’t dare move though he felt like he needed to, to do something. He felt helpless.

“If the day should come to pass that Jayce hears these words, please know I tried to protect you, because I love you. Signed, King Bail Sahrama, Lord of the Valda-Cree and in the name of the goddess, servant.”

A cur whined in the corner, likely overwhelmed by the tense heavy silence drenching the room. Duran watched as it slunk out the main keep doors with its tail low between thin legs, escaping the tangible bated breath held together by a spider’s web of shock. Honestly, he wanted to go with him.

“Now what?” someone murmured.

Glancing across the room, Duran was sure that was the guard he’d heard named Sul.

Jayce laughed hollowly, his voice dry and almost bitter. “Now what? Honestly, I have no idea. I was brought here because of a prophecy. And now you have come here before me.”

“The prophecy?” flew through the room as questions and murmurs before a few were immediately hushed.

Jayce raised his clear voice once more to be heard.

 

“Cull the darkness, share the light.

Arise, brave soul, foretold to fight.

Upon that soul, lay the mane,

Of lion’s blood coursing in man’s vein.

Hear the roar of pack and pride.

Honor the strong, the fearsome, the wise.

Come the day the heart of darkness be slain.

By truth’s side, justice shall forever reign.”

 

Silence ensconced the room as his voice faded between the stone walls, leaving many waiting with equal expectancy.

“How do we know you’re true Valda-Cree? King Bucol and his father before him eradicated lion skin shifters in Caduthien.”

Duran scowled. That had definitely been Sul.

“What right do you have to come here and challenge him!”

The entire crowd whirled and a few even growled or gasped at the roared interruption. An enraged Cedri and several more were standing at the wide open doorway.

Including Royce. Duran’s breath hitched in his throat at the sight. He could barely look away from him. Sunlight seemed to make the paleness of his hair nearly burn with a flaxen light. Eyes so blue they sparked like glacial ice. Even as they burned with barely suppressed anger at the people in the keep. With him in the room, all others became eclipsed. Goddess, when she created Royce, she created perfection. He stood tall and strong behind Cedri and didn’t balk when Cedri cut through the crowd like a wind-blown ship to come before Jayce and bow low. “My lord? I have come to report.”

“Please do,” he said. It was with small signs of relief when he finally took his chair, sinking into it. There was a calmness blanketing his demeanor that hadn’t been there a few minutes before. Cedri had done what none of the rest of them had the ability to do as part of the nightmare he was enduring–break the spell of Jayce’s emotional anguish to be able to get it under control, to give him a moment to pull everyone’s focus away from him. To gather his strength around himself like a shield to continue to face those in the waiting crowd.

“Lord Atkill and Lord Seamus have both brought companies of armed men. They are camped a few miles from the keep.”

“What?” Harvan shouted angrily, advancing on Lord Atkill. “Why did you bring armed battalions?”

“Because I don’t know who this imposter is any more than you do!” he snarled, pointing at Jayce on the dais while yelling in Harvan’s face. “Who dares to show up claiming to be some bannered lord, taking over a decrepit holding, employing mages,” he sneered.

Jayce leaped to his feet. “Silence!” he thundered. Birds took wing and flew out of the keep on a sea of feathers. Any dog that hadn’t escaped earlier ran out of the room in a flurry of tails and whines. Jayce’s bellow echoed to the rafters and beyond, redolent with an inner roar, dropping silence like a storm over those gathered in the hall. Lord Morrow with a temper was phenomenally inspiring. Duran felt himself freeze to the stones beneath his feet, such was the force of his command in the one word. “Have you forgotten your history so easily that you don’t know the significance of the Valda-Cree?”

Atkill faced him, no longer hiding the deriding sneer. “The Valda-Cree? The Valda-Cree are dead! Nothing more than stories and legends now.” Lord Atkill scoffed. “You’re an imposter. I can prove it!”

Duran barked a laugh at the absurdity, quickly covering his mouth in an attempt to stifle the mocking sound. But he wasn’t alone. Grayson erupted with coarse laughter next. Before long, several among the crowd were laughing, from mages to skin shifters to workers, as much from finding true humor in Atkill’s claims as to release the tension freezing them all where they stood. Those at the keep knew the truth and all supported Jayce Morrow née Sahrama, as they now knew the truth. No one there would argue him as King Bail’s son, the prince child.

“Please!” Jayce raised his hands to wave them through the air with light flips, though he was smiling now, his eyes twinkling at their derisive laughter. “Please, let me hear how you can disprove the claim I have only presented to you to consider.” He purposely smiled a toothy grin. “I have not forced any belief, have I?”

Several nos were loud, relieved, and rampant throughout the hall.

“All I’ve done is present the possibility of who I am, with King Bail’s own words. The rest is up to you. But whether you believe me or not is not my concern. I know who I am now. I know what I’m here for, and I know I can’t do it alone. If you wish more information, please stay, otherwise, I’m sure you can see yourselves out.” He smiled at Harvan, a shared respect. “Again, thank you for your kindness to my rearing parents.”

With that, he stepped away from the dais, his back straight to leave the room. His guards were barely a step behind him.

“I will prove you a fake!” Atkill unsheathed his sword and charged with a battle cry. Screams filled the vast space as people scrabbled to get out of his way, evading the swing of his lethal blade.

Duran hadn’t witnessed Jayce’s change to his lion the first time, when he had rescued Sophie. Seeing it now for himself was indescribable.

One moment there was Jayce, and in the next there was a lion leaping over people fearfully ducking out of the way of the armed madman. The massive lion landed on Atkill and knocked him to the ground with a single pounce before Atkill had cleared five paces in the packed hall. The lion’s mane was beautiful, rich, and full of vibrant hues of gold, blended with light and deep brown and rich streaks of black that seemed to glisten like onyx. And his eyes. His eyes gleamed like golden fires.

Eyes currently pinned on prey he was holding down with ease.

Rune sauntered close, as calm as a spring breeze, unafraid of the lion whose shoulder reached well above his waist. Jayce’s lion hung over Lord Atkill, his wide paws pinning his shoulders to stone, his back paw pressing into the juncture of his legs. He leaned over his captive, blowing hotly against Atkill’s neck, snarling with intent. Atkill had gone from screaming his anger and rage to pale, panting, and silent in a heartbeat.

“I believe you owe him an apology.” Rune lightly threaded fingers into the lion’s mane. “And I suggest you do it calmly. My lord is furious at your ill-planned attack. You could have harmed numerous unarmed and innocent people with your stupidity, and his lion doesn’t reason well when those he protects are being threatened.”

He dared to glare at Rune and Jayce’s vocal answer was instantaneous, his powerful growls filling the hall. Atkill whimpered loudly as the lion’s rear paw twisted, pushing down on the man’s sensitive bits in emphasis that he had no patience.

“I– I’m sorry, p-p-please forgive me, m-my lord.”

The lion leaned close and snapped his jaws near Atkill’s ear, making his point with sharp fangs.

“Goddess, he’s good at that.” Duran twitched, caught unaware by the man at his side, absolutely engrossed in the by-play between Jayce’s lion and Lord Atkill. His heart pounded for a wholly different reason with Royce at his shoulder. His voice was low, awed with wonder. Duran’s body felt the sound of the man’s voice like an aural caress and it left him tingly all over. “No one has the speed to change like he does. Is it the Valda-Cree blood?”

He managed to reply with a whisper. “I would have to think so. He has skills and magic we’re still uncovering. And yet he remains humble and kind. It’s rare to see someone so powerful not being influenced by the strength of his ability.” He couldn’t imagine Jayce ever believing himself to be omnipotent.

Almost as soon as the lion was in Jayce’s place to protect his pride, the lion vanished and suddenly his human form was crouched next to Atkill. Duran had to strain to hear him. “Convinced yet?” Jayce drawled coolly, his expression redolent with disdain. Then he straightened and stalked from the room to disappear through the separated wooden doors as though he’d never stopped, with Rune and his guards on his heels, leaving Lord Atkill on the ground, gaping after them.

It didn’t surprise Duran when no one at all helped Lord Atkill regain his feet, even as he spluttered and demanded for assistance. Not even his master at arms, Yeh Yeh. The master at arm’s estimations rose considerably that day for Duran.