Chapter 25 The Rock and The Stars #2
Auhert, Ridan, Areine, and Sevrin were doing their best to broker peace, but even they had issues.
Sevrin was willing to allow Ridan to lead, but Auhert had been chief longer than either of them.
As not only an alpha, but the more experienced leader, he felt he should take point.
But they were on Stone Blade land, and Ridan had been up against Kaldonea before.
It was an argument that died down, only to roar back to life at the smallest of disagreements.
And Areine seemed content to let the other chiefs tear into each other without interference.
At least the chatter about Ridan died down after that first alpha. Apparently, Brune ripping a tree from the ground and threatening to run the man through was enough of a deterrent.
He sat back, watching Henroen run a whetstone over his axe as another feud broke out in front of him. They were too far away for Brune to hear the details, but a Windy Cliff beta stepped up to a Stone Blade alpha and it escalated into blows.
“This is ridiculous,” Brune groaned. “We’ll kill each other before Kaldonea even gets here.”
Henroen grunted, looking up to watch the fight with disinterest.
Osmond and Niklas ended up separating the two, which only led to them being accused of sticking their nose into clan business that didn’t involve them. When the beta tried to take a swipe at Niklas, Osmond broke his nose.
It made no sense to Brune. They were all here for a reason. They all wanted the same thing. So why couldn’t they put this foolishness aside and focus on what was before them? Even Osmond, who was usually so levelheaded, was pulled into it. He, of all people, should know better.
The problem was that other than a few of the Stone Blade; they weren’t aware of how truly dangerous Kaldonea could be. They hadn’t seen the magic users at work. Hadn’t seen the aftereffects of Sinestrus. To them, he was still some legend their parents told them to get them to behave.
As far as Brune knew, the last time the clans had all worked together had been with Artrax. United under a cause most would have considered unwinnable. They’d been an unstoppable force. And now they needed to come together again to face that same enemy, but that cohesion was gone.
Osmond bared his teeth at the beta, ready to lunge, before Ridan shouldered his way through the crowd. He grabbed his lieutenant by the scruff, easily throwing the bigger alpha down. With a curse, he kicked the beta to the other side of the fire, eyes narrowing as he spat blood at Ridan’s boots.
“Enough!” he roared, his scent spiking so much Brune felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Are you nothing but pups fighting over sugared treats by the heat of the hearth?” he sneered, taking the time to look each of the warriors in the eye.
“Foolish me. I thought I was surrounded by warriors. Imagine my surprise to see a bunch of arguing children wearing the weapons of true warriors. Shall I call your dams to come cut your meat for you? To wrap you in blankets?” his voice was cruel, derision dripping from every syllable.
Several of the larger alphas close to him snapped their jaws, but Ridan didn’t flinch, meeting their challenge with such intensity they had to submit.
Stepping away, he hopped up onto a low rock so he could look down at them. Truthfully, he didn’t need the added height. Ridan was more than capable of looking down his nose at even the tallest warrior.
“Do you not know where we stand?” he raised his voice, allowing the echo to dissipate before speaking again.
“We stand on Artrax’s Mountain. On the very dirt our ancestors gathered all those years ago.
They stood huddled here after watching their homes destroyed, their land poisoned, and their children starved.
They were beaten, fighting with broken swords and battered bodies. ”
So intent on Ridan’s words, Brune stopped breathing.
“And yet they did not whimper. They did not turn away. They picked up their broken swords, staunched their wounds, and faced certain death with their heads held high.” He knocked a fist against his chest. “They might have been beaten. They might have been bloody. But they were not defeated.”
Ridan had every last Clansman’s attention. Even the chiefs behind him were transfixed.
And that’s when it hit Brune.
The Clansmen of old weren’t any braver or smarter. They weren’t better than the clans gathered here today. They had Artrax. A leader. Someone they could believe in, flock to. Someone who could guide them to certain death and then back again.
Someone like Ridan.
“How dare you? How dare you stand where they stood and desecrate it with your petty arguments and long dead rivalries? How dare you defile their memory? Their sacrifice.”
He let them stew in their guilt, allowing it to wash away all their indiscretions and selfish desires.
“They died for peace. So that we, their descendants, would not know the pain they knew. And now it is our turn. It is our honor to continue their legacy. To take up their mantle and fight.”
The late evening sun could barely pierce through the trees, but it didn’t matter.
Ridan was the light. He shone brightly, and like a moth to the flame, those around him couldn’t help but flock to him.
Surround him in the hopes they would catch some of his warmth.
Close enough to die if the heat became scorching.
At least they would have touched some of his brilliance.
None more so than Brune. He stood, drifting forward until he was within an arm’s reach from Ridan. Those firebrand eyes dropped to him, and Brune shivered under their intensity.
“Because we are not afraid! As the children of the few who stood with Artrax, we have their pride in our veins. Their thunder in our hearts. And by Eralkor’s speed, Maladon’s strength, and Artrax’s Sacrifice, we will not bend.”
He shouted the last words, fist digging into his chest and eyes never wavering from Brune’s.
“For we are Clansmen, and we bow for no one!”
The mountain shook with their cheers. Weapons were raised aloft, lifted by strong arms and even stronger hearts.
Whatever tension bled away, replaced by the ideals they knew by heart, but had lost in the comfort of an easy life.
United by history, identical pride simmered in their veins. They were no longer of the clans.
They were Clansmen.
Ready to fight. Ready to die.
And it was Ridan they would follow.
He didn’t mean to give a speech. He didn’t mean to jump up onto the rock and look down at the crowd below him. Ridan had simply meant to break up the fight. Shame the warriors for their actions. Stop any more blood from being spilled.
But he’d always had a temper, and when he started, he just couldn’t stop.
Their foolishness, their audacity, had him so angry he didn’t even realize he was speaking until the words were falling from his mouth.
Until he blinked and where there had been a bunch of squabbling idiots, there were now seasoned warriors staring up at him with awe.
With a confidence that hadn’t been there before he spoke.
Warriors he’d never met before, that had been blooded before he was crawling. And they were listening to him.
And as he spoke, he realized just what a hypocrite he was.
Ridan had called them all foolish, but he was no better. He told the gathered warriors they dishonored their ancestors by fighting when they should be united, but he’d also insulted their memory. They fought and died for his right to live, to love. And he’d wasted it.
Buzzard told him that humans were so obsessed with magic that they missed something that was right in front of him. For him, it wasn’t magic, but Ridan’s obsession with fighting Kaldonea, with protecting his clan, that had him ignoring the gift he’d been given.
He’d spent his life getting stronger—for himself and for his clan, but the one way he could truly honor those who had gone to stand beneath Artrax’s wings was to embrace the one thing that could never be magicked.
Brune should have been lost in the crowd.
Another body amongst many, but Ridan always knew where he was.
His gaze felt like it seared into his skin.
From the moment Ridan first saw him—wooden splinters raining down around him, his face screwed up in concentration, arm shaking with the force of the blow he’d blocked—he’d been a constant.
Brune never questioned Ridan. He’d never wanted anything more from him than what he could give.
He saw a young omega and instead of telling him his limits; he told him to reach for the star–he was strong enough to catch him.
And Ridan was ready to be caught.
Jumping off the rock, he pushed through the crowd without saying a word. He only had eyes for the alpha with a goofy smile and wore every emotion on his face.
He took Brune’s hand when he found him, his fingers sliding into place with ease. Before the alpha could question him, he led them away.
There was no singular destination in mind, but Ridan found it anyway.
Close to where they’d kept the horses was a small clearing with a shallow pond.
The water was low and clear, plants and brambles of roots sticking out from beneath its still surface.
Far enough from the hearths that the only sound was the occasional skittering of an animal in the brush and the sluggish wind tickling the leafless branches.
Brune didn’t ask questions, content to follow Ridan’s lead. They stopped at the bank and for a moment, he couldn’t turn to face him. He didn’t know what to say. His mind seemed to take a step back to let his heart lead, emotions swirling around him so quick no words could be formed.
Swallowing past the emotion lodged in his throat, he looked up at the sky and tried to pick out the first stars twinkling through the fading light. They were there, difficult to see, but always right where he thought they would be. Just like Brune.