The main hall was full of early risers eager to get about their daily training exercises. RuArk enjoyed his, and now Rhia’s, favorite breakfast of fresh, light, honey-soaked rolls, fluffy eggs and spicy poultry sausage.
As he dined, his mind drifted back to the woman he’d left sleeping upstairs.
A powerful squall had blown through and it seemed as if the very sky had opened up and decided to drown them all. For the past several weeks, there had been nothing but deluge after deluge. Strange, considering that the transition from spring to summer usually brought storms that were short and mild.
He’d been sensing something with his Gift, but couldn’t pin it down. Something definitely niggled at the back of his mind. As much as he longed to see his wife and children, he hoped that they were already asleep so he could step into the Dream and seek out the Grandfather. Perhaps his elder could give him some guidance in this situation.
RuArk climbed the staircase dead tired after helping his men clear the roads and trails of numerous fallen trees. He thought on Rhia as he opened the door to their apartments and stepped silently into the darkened living room. It was amazing having a bond with a woman as complex as she was loving. Though she was still stubborn as all creation, she hid nothing of herself like before.
He knew when he’d unwittingly hurt her feelings or pleased her without her saying a word. At times, he could literally hear her. He also knew if she was engaged in something that she probably shouldn’t be... like taking Drefan’s boat across the river to Gaia when she had no idea how to sail it. He shook his head and grinned at that one.
Weary and in need of a bath, he leaned against the door to their apartments, his back resting against the solid threshold. Eyes closed, he relaxed for a moment as his thoughts filled with Rhia. Though he considered her his own precious jewel, just two months ago, she’d given him the most wondrous gift—a son and a daughter.
Suddenly the bond flared and RuArk physically jerked away from the door as if he’d been scalded. A rush of blood flooded his cock as lust fired through the synapses of his brain. Rhia was far from asleep. In fact, she beckoned him now with the most seductive thoughts she could muster and he felt every one of them.
RuArk stripped as he moved toward the bathing room, leaving a trail of soaking wet clothing in his wake.
“Come to me now. I’ll warm you up.”
Changing direction, he dropped his breech at the bedroom door. The Grandfather could wait until tomorrow...
Suddenly a commotion echoed in the hallway, yanking him out of his more pleasant thoughts. Damn it.
“I must see the lord of the manor right now! Out of the way, you blasted tree! I’m a Draeman soldier and can go where I please!”
The voice was unfamiliar. Several gazes left their breakfast and eyebrows rose, along with quite a few bodies. RuArk had no need to rise, but his lip did lift into a proud grin as warriors and their Draeman counterparts, who were almost a foot shorter than his men, made their way out of the hall side by side.
It immediately grew quiet. Too quiet.
He had an appointment with the Grandfather that couldn’t be missed. First, he had to get to the little spot he’d found where Rhia wouldn’t walk in on him. If she knew he’d been walking the Dream in pursuit of the Dreadlord, she would try her best to string him up for not including her.
Whatever was going on just now might make it difficult to get where he needed to be, unseen. Growling inwardly at the thought while watching the time, he waited.
Moments later, Ewan, Osgar, Dalmore and Drefan entered. Between them was a Draeman soldier who appeared somewhat pale.
RuArk remained in his seat until the man stood before him. He looked like no Draeman RuArk had ever seen. The province had been a safe haven of people after the Breaking with a population that had mixed so much, they long ago began to look as if they were one race rather than several.
According to the histories, hair and eyes in a wide variety of browns was the norm for the last two hundred years. This man was all flaming red hair and a beard to match, with vivid green eyes that stood out in his smooth, fine boned face. No scratches or scars made RuArk wonder if the boy had ever been in a fight.
“What is your name?” asked RuArk.
“My name is Larel Kohn. What’s yours?” snapped the young man. “Better yet, Gaian, stop asking me questions and get the Council of Seven rep for Province Springs.”
“Council of Seven?” RuArk asked quietly, not bothering to hide his surprise. “Who?”
“Yes, Council of Seven. I was given no name and no details on who was to receive the High Counsel’s message. I was only given a title and told that he was the husband of the First Heir, Rhia Greysomne.”
RuArk went still as stone. Setting his napkin down on the table, he met Larel’s gaze and let the cold anger simmering just beneath the surface, shine brightly. “I believe I can help you with that, Larel.”
“Good. This business is urgent, so if you could move a little faster, I would appreciate it.” The little whelp’s insolent roll of his eyes said otherwise. Who the hells was this man, and what did he really want? The High Counsel would not send such an ass to engage RuArk. And what was this Council of Seven rep business? The rep didn’t have a residence here in Province Springs anymore.
Then again, a new soldier might be less likely to be in on a plot to remove Rhia from her rightful place. So just maybe...
“What is your rank, Larel?”
“I have just made First Blade three days ago. This is my first assignment for the Society of War in the High Counsel’s service.”
Ah, well that explained the arrogance. All young men believed themselves invincible at this age. He should know given the number of times he’d attempted to fly when he should have still been crawling.
“As you say, I’m Gaian...”
“You don’t sound Gaian.”
“I’m well-traveled,” RuArk said, and then let silence hang in the air a moment. His men followed his lead and kept quiet and alert. “As I was saying, I am Gaian and while I’m familiar with your province, I’ve never seen features quite like yours before.”
The young man’s hair was such a fiery shade it looked as if it were on fire.
“My parents came from the northeast, across the sea, when I was just old enough to start kinderschool. I have no Draeman blood in me, but thankfully, Draema welcomes all.” The last was said with a nasty snarl.
Larel obviously had more on his mind, so RuArk took a sip of coffee, sat back in his chair and crossed his ankles. “Please, continue.”
The men who’d previously surrounded Larel dispersed, some to strategic points around the room and others back to their tables to continue eating.
“History says that the Gaian wouldn’t share their knowledge with us. The best and most experienced of Draeman Blademasters were turned away when seeking to learn from them. It’s hard to admit, but I’m having a difficult time dealing with the fact that Province Springs is overrun with...your kind.”
So, they’d come to the crux of it—good old fashioned prejudice. The young soldier’s gaze traveled from Gaian warrior to Draeman solider. Each word had been said through a sneer, as if they all reeked of horse shit.
The Gaian were often misjudged, their desire to keep to their own, except for trade, often seen as arrogance rather than a true commitment to their ways. Although Rhia’s mother was Gaian, she’d left her homeland to join with the High Counsel. Right here in Province Springs was the first time since the Breaking that there was truly a blending of Draeman and Gaian. Not just a joining in marriage, but scores of different people actually living, working and training together.
RuArk’s people were already familiar with Draeman customs, or lack thereof. Though unbending in their beliefs and practices, they shared with those in Province Springs freely. It was an extension of their own home simply because the Protector was here.
Okay, so maybe his people were a bit arrogant, but they were second to none in any case.
RuArk hoped that this boy’s disdain for all things Gaian was not so ingrained that he wasn’t willing to learn about those he had come to hate.
“My kind?” RuArk stood, slowly and with grave purpose. “Interesting choice of words. But while we’re in a sharing mood, I am RuArk Miwatani, second son to the King of Gaia and Protector of the Realm. Some call me Wind Storm.” Larel’s jaw dropped. “Others call me lifemate to Rhia Greysomne, and the man to whom the High Counsel has sent you.”
The blood drained from the young man’s face. He blushed until his face was as red as his hair.
“But the High Counsel said Council of Seven rep...”
“Did he now?” RuArk asked.
“Well, no. But I assumed... I-I apologize, sir. I truly meant no disrespect.”
“Of course you did. I will be sure to inform the High Counsel of your lack of courtesy and common sense. Or... Perhaps I should summon the First Heir? I am sure she can give you a lesson or two in manners. Oh, wait, she’s not good enough to teach you anything. I’m sure you despise her.”
The fire returned to Larel’s eyes as he said, “Of course I don’t despise her. She’s one of the greatest commanders the Society of War has ever seen. I’ve observed her classes. She’s magnificent! I haven’t had the privilege of stepping into the circle with the First Heir. No one ranked lower than First Blade is even allowed to participate in any of her training. Still, I just don’t see why she couldn’t marry one of her own.”
“Yet she is half Gaian, so I am one of her own. Do you despise her now? Your answer should be interesting considering you are not Draeman either, yet I doubt there would be a problem if she’d married you.” Words deceptively calm, RuArk seethed, just waiting for this pup to say one disrespectful word about Rhia.
“No! I mean yes. That’s not what I mean. Why would we give an entire township to the people who’ve refused hospitality to the Draeman since the Breaking?”
“We have refused hospitality, you say? Were you awake during your history lessons in kinderschool? How do you think the High Counsel himself was able to marry a Gaian woman? Did she miraculously appear in the High City? Did the Sensuan you enjoy, who are all Gaian, just poof themselves into Draema?
“The nonsense you spout gives proof of your lack of knowledge of the customs of the Gaian, therefore your feelings are understandable. However, they do not excuse your conduct toward me or my men. Our cultures have never had a strained relationship, simply one that respects my people’s desire to walk the ways of our Ancestors.
“Friendship has always been solid between our leaders. The house of my Fathers has been in covenant with the High Counsels of your land since before the Breaking of the world. Perhaps you should spend more time studying and less time running headlong into stone walls. It causes brain damage.”
Larel’s mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Good. He’d said enough for one day as far as RuArk was concerned. He only wanted one more thing from Larel. “Now, my young asshole, deliver your message and we will see about ‘hospitality’ after.”
Larel stiffened his spine, his mouth compressed into a thin line. For long moments, he said nothing.
Finally, he took a long, deep breath and released it on a slow, even sigh. “I will accept whatever judgment you deem fair. It was wrong of me to allow my personal feelings to interfere with my duty. I will accept the consequences of my actions, sir.”
RuArk nodded sternly as he held Larel’s gaze. He allowed his anger to seep away, knowing typical young male ambition and hot headedness when he saw it. Other than his fine features and slim build, young Larel reminded RuArk of himself when he’d just received his first rank of significance—overconfident and amazingly naïve about himself, his people and the world around him.
Larel reached into the inner pocket of his traveling coat and retrieved a small metal-looking case. He handed it to RuArk.
“It’s encoded. The High Counsel said to simply say ‘matted hair’ to you and you would know the password.
RuArk chuckled. Good one, Grey. Very good indeed.
He took a few steps away from Larel, flipped open the little tablet and tapped in the code—bird shit. The screen flashed bright blue then faded to a steely gray as words began to appear.
“It’s from the High Counsel,” Larel said. “I rode as fast as I could. I even took the train to the Neine border, then rode by...”
RuArk raised his hand for silence, reading the High Counsel’s note
His expression grim, mouth and brows tightly drawn, he turned to Linc and Marth who had quietly joined him. “So it begins. We ride at dawn,” he said, striding away, handing the High Counsel’s note to Marth as he headed out of the hall.
He stopped at the threshold and turned. His tone was stone cold. “None of you are to tell Rhia about any of this. It is for her safety and nothing comes before the safety of my woman. What you heard here stays here. All of you will meet me in the pasture on the other side of the township on the far side of the lake. Pack to ride fast and light. Even your fellow warriors are not to be told. Am I understood?”
Every man in the hall nodded, even Larel who couldn’t possibly be sure what had just happened.
“Osgar, send word across the river to the men patrolling our southern borders. Have them quietly cross into Draema to the east and meet us on the western border of the High City. I will meet with you later to take care of the issue of my mate.”
Osgar gave RuArk a lopsided grin knowing that Rhia would probably be more of a challenge than whatever he’d seen in the High Counsel’s note.
“Lunis and Brita will have to be told, as we will need their help in gathering supplies. We must know what we can take and what must stay here. Swear them to secrecy. And neither Joan or Sharyn can know.” The O’dann twins looked at each other then back at RuArk. “Look, I know what I’m asking of you, but if either of those two women have any idea of what’s being planned, Rhia will know mere moments later.”
Turning to his unexpected guest, RuArk said, “Larel, I will ask my questions of you in private. Ewan will bring you to my office in one hour. You will dine with my mate and me tonight, however, in the meantime, have some breakfast. Ewan see to our guest, please.”