Chapter Thirty-Nine

Even Mulberry sensed that home was near. She tossed her head, continually trying to edge into a trot. Thera patted her neck. “Yes, you fractious child, we’re almost there. Blessing be. Perhaps the climb up Lorn a’Lea will settle you down.”

Alaine eyed the young pair and her lips pursed. “Aye, like mistress, like beast, I think. Eager to be home.” She smiled at Thera who laughed appreciatively. “Hnnh. We are close to Allenholme then, if this be Lorn a’Lea point?”

“Yes. Almost home now.” She breathed deeply. “Do you smell the air?”

“It is the same good, sweet air I have smelled all along, Salvai.” Thera lifted her brows expectantly, so Alaine shrugged and rose in her stirrups, taking several deep breaths. She sat back, meeting Thera’s look. “Perhaps a touch more of the salt water tang here, than at Elankeep. And something else—”

“Yes,” Thera beamed, “cailia bloom and salt tang. Home.” She heeled Mulberry up the rising trail.

Emerging into the clearing at the top of Lorn a’Lea, they were challenged, “Halt! Who travels in ArNarone domain?”

Thera nearly blurted a happy greeting on hearing the familiar voice, but Sirra Alaine was already responding. “Lady Thera, Heir of Allenholme and Salvai to the Elanraigh, and her escort.”

“Captain Lydia!” Thera couldn’t wait, she swung off Mulberry and tossing back the hood of her cloak ran forward. “I’ve come home.”

“Blessing be,” choked Lydia, grasping Thera by the upper arms. “The Elanraigh has just granted your father’s dearest wish.” She took in Thera’s appearance, met Thera’s eyes with a small nod. “I see, Lady,” she said softly, “that you command your own now. These be the Elankeep soldiers by their gear.”

Thera nodded, “Their service honors me. Captain Lydia, this is Sirra Alaine and First Sword Alba.”

As Lydia returned the soldiers’ salutes, her glance over them was lively and interested. She jerked her chin over her shoulder, “We have a small watch-fire in the hollow, and some hot tea. It will be full dark soon. Do come and warm yourselves and then I will escort you in.”

She called to one of the two figures silhouetted against the fire’s light, “Kirten! Come tend to these horses while our Lady Thera refreshes herself.”

* * * *

Captain Lydia joined Thera where she stood, hands wrapped around the warm mug of tea, watching sky and sea lit with the sun’s last fire. Lydia glanced at her, then spoke quietly, “It harrowed our souls to hear of the danger you’d passed through on the Coast Trail, Lady.” Thera glanced up, blinking at Lydia’s profile, mauve-shadowed against the dying light. “We sang the Lament for Innic, Jon, and your Nan.” Lydia, sighed, “We’ve sung the Lament too often. A great deal has happened while you have been at Elankeep, Lady. But,” she smiled at Thera, “that will be your father’s tale to tell first.”

“Some of it I know, Lydia—from father’s letter.”

Lydia laughed. “Aye. He doesn’t like the writing of them—though he was ever eager to receive yours, be sure.”

Thera spoke into her tea mug before taking a small sip. “The Ttamarini—are they still here?”

“Oh, aye.” Lydia glanced at her, then away. “We’ve all come to honor them as allies and friends. They stay to celebrate the victory over the Memteth. Your father has invited the Ttamarini Heir to remain as a guest, if he wishes. The Memteth are gone …”

“Pardon?” asked Thera, feeling distracted.

“The Memteth. Gone. No sign of them for days now. The Elanraigh speaks …?

“The Elanraigh does not feel them anywhere near,” Thera murmured. Father invited Chamak to stay on?

“Ah,” Lydia nodded. “That is good news. Lady Fideiya thought the Elanraigh might be sending you home. She said that the last two days an eagle has circled the keep, calling. Lady Fideiya said it made her feel you were somehow near. Eagles are good omen to our folk these days.”

Thera and Lydia fell silent a moment. Captain Lydia watched the Elankeep soldiers as they talked among themselves. “They look like fine companions,” she remarked. Then she laughed, “I can’t wait to see Harle’s face!”

“Horsemaster Harle?”

“Aye. The only way he came finally to accept me was when he convinced himself I must be an exception, a freak of nature.” She shook her head and gestured at the Elankeep troop. “All these fine women soldiers will quite overset him.

“Well. If you are ready, Lady, I will have the great pleasure of escorting you home.”

* * * *

Thera saw her father and mother standing with Captain Dougall and the Heart’s Own at the South Gate. Kirten had indeed hurried ahead with word of her arrival. Torchlight and shadows alternately washed over the Allenholme party in the chill night wind—her father’s red-gold hair, glitter of mail and jeweled badges, all swimming before her eyes.

A small sob broke from her and Thera was off her horse and in her mother’s embrace—scent of sealily and calla. Her mother’s small, chilled fingers touched her face, tilting her head to the light. “Oh, my dear one,” she murmured.

“Thera!” growled Leon, and her father’s arms surrounded them both.

* * * *

Morning sun burnished the copper bowls on Thera’s cedar chest and freshly picked blue hyacinth released their scent. Slowly, lovingly, Thera drank in the familiar sight of her own room. Yet, it was all somehow different now.

Last night she had been bundled quickly toward her parents retiring room, her mother ordering refreshments brought. “My troop, father,” Thera had protested against her father’s propelling arm.

“You are weary. Maxim will see to them.”

“I am not that weary, sir. I will order them settled.”

Leon paused, dropping his arm from her shoulder. He regarded her with approval. “Well, daughter, that is well spoken.”

Thera turned. “Sirra Maxim, kindly escort Sirra Alaine and the soldiers of Elankeep to the east wing.” Thera glanced at her father. “I would have them quartered with the Heart’s Own, sir.” Leon nodded.

Sirra Maxim and Sirra Alaine saluted. After conferring briefly, Alaine signaled the troop, and they followed Maxim toward the east wing.

In her parents’ retiring room, tucked into a large chair and sipping mulled wine, Thera listened to her father tell the tale of events since she had been gone from Allenholme. As he told of the Memteth assault on the Cythian warship and the battle at Lorn a’Lea, Thera felt the strangeness of hearing the story told from such a different perspective than her own. His account of the bitter fight with the Memteth giant was told in a bright-eyed, vigorous tone of reminiscence. When he spoke of the eagle coming to his aid, he said, “It was as if the very spirit of the Elanraigh formed itself into that shape and fought at our side. I cannot explain it, or adequately describe it.”

Thera mused, Well. That is close enough to the truth of it.

Leon’s face darkened. “The Memteth have ravaged up and down our coast. Many good people have died—villagers and townsfolk alike. When I was a half-day’s ride to the north, engaged against a Memteth raid on Brachna village, a small party of raiders managed to set fire to our ships, right here at Allenholme. We lost half the fishing fleet before the flames were beaten.” Leon sat with chin resting on fist, staring at the crackling fire. Thera eyed the pulse throbbing at her father’s temple. She flinched as a blackened log tumbled to the hearthstones.

Leon stirred, and continued, “Mika ep Narin ordered the burning ships cut loose,” Leon’s breath came harsh as he spoke. “There was nothing else he could do. No one could get near the raging inferno those vessels were by then.” Her father paused, breathing heavily, then continued. “Some youths—children, truth be said, sons and daughter of mariners—knowing what the ships meant to their fathers, defied their Guild Master and fought the flames. They perished, every one. Their fathers netted their charred remains from the sea.”

Fideiya’s hands clenched on the needlework she held, her eyes starkly fixed on Leon. Seeing her stricken gaze, Leon sighed. He reached over, placing his hand on hers, “Surely the Elanraigh took those brave young souls straight to its heart.”

Thera felt stunned. She knew so many of the young fisher folk. Bright faces gathered in a dusty circle, playing spin crystal games. “Thera, I challenge you for the blue quartz!” And there was Thera, as begrimed as the rest, sitting in the dust, at least until Nan caught her. “Blues are worth two whites—let me see your bet, Adon.” The echoes of their shouts and laughter rang in Thera’s memory.

Again patting Fideiya’s hand, Leon got up from his chair. He crouched before Thera, and reached his hand to touch her hair. “I am a soldier and I have seen death in many forms. It is a terrible thing for a parent to have to bury a child. Your mother and I give thanks that the Elanraigh has brought you safely home.” Planting a quick kiss on both their heads, Leon left the room.

Blessings be, Thera agreed, that the troubles are at last truly over.