Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I n the blue tinted haze of the afternoon, it was Hawthorne who sought conversation as they rode across the plains.
‘How long have you been spying on the guild’s training sessions?’
Thea shrugged. ‘Since I could walk.’
‘Why? What’s so fascinating about early morning drills and Esyllt yelling at the hopeless cases?’
Thea grinned at this. ‘He yells at everyone.’
‘True.’
For a moment, Thea looked inward. It had been a long time since someone had asked her that question sincerely.
She couldn’t tell the Warsword of her fate stone, he’d only just warmed to her, she didn’t want him to think she was a waste of his time.
So she searched beyond that. ‘I don’t like staying still,’ she admitted slowly.
‘I have always felt a restlessness within, and whenever I have fought or wielded a blade I’ve felt more at home in my own skin than any other time. ’
‘I can see that about you,’ he replied. ‘You crave freedom, adventure…’
‘Who doesn’t crave those things?’ Thea asked.
‘Everyone is different.’
‘What about you? Why did you want to be a warrior? A Warsword?’
The Warsword in question adjusted his grip on the reins, seeming to mull his answer over before speaking. ‘My brother,’ he said eventually. ‘My brother was a Warsword. And I wanted to be just like him.’
Was. The word echoed painfully between them and Thea’s heart fractured for him. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose a sibling, couldn’t imagine life without Wren. She didn’t push the topic further. If Hawthorne wanted to talk about his brother, he would in his own time.
After that, they rode in companionable silence and Thea found that unlike the initial leg of the journey, this part was moving too quickly. Time was fickle like that, something she knew all too well.
When the second dusk fell on their return journey, Hawthorne didn’t leave her to look after the horses and the fire – he took her with him, deep into the nearby woods and showed her how to track hares through the undergrowth.
‘Usually you’d start with much larger game,’ he explained. ‘But we wouldn’t manage to use an entire deer, and I’ve never been one to kill more than I need. So we’re starting with the harder targets.’
‘Good,’ Thea said. ‘I like a challenge.’
In the fading light, he showed her how to move without snapping twigs and rustling the leaves, an invaluable skill not only for a hunter but for a warrior, for a future Warsword.
She watched him with a ferocious intensity, drinking in every kernel of knowledge he offered.
How many monsters had he slayed in the name of the midrealms?
How much dark magic had been wielded against him?
What marks had it left on that warrior’s body of his?
Thea had sought out tale after tale about Thezmarr’s elite over the years.
She knew most of the stories by heart. She knew of Thezmarr’s resilience, of its Warswords’ duty-bound code, but she had never spoken to one, had never ridden alongside one, and here she was…
hunting game with the Hand of Death himself.
‘You’re staring,’ Hawthorne said pointedly.
Thea started, cheeks flushing. She had been staring. ‘I’m studying,’ she replied, making a point to mimic his last step.
‘You truly care about this, don’t you?’
‘Have I, for one moment, acted in a way that’s made you think otherwise?’ she countered.
Hawthorne’s head tilted. ‘No. It’s just… been a long while since I’ve seen this level of dedication, and stubbornness,’ he added. ‘A long while.’
She was about to question him further when he raised a tattooed finger to his lips.
Thea followed his gaze to the small clearing up ahead, where a large hare stood on its hind legs, munching on some foliage.
Ever so slowly, the Warsword’s hand went to his quiver. There was no sound as he nocked an arrow to the longbow and drew the string back, his muscles shifting beneath his creaking leathers.
The arrow flew.
The hare hadn’t stood a chance.
It was impaled through the eye to the tree behind it.
‘You always want to aim for the eye with smaller game,’ Hawthorne told her as he went to retrieve his kill. ‘It’s a swifter death and doesn’t make a mess of what little meat there is.’ He passed her the bow and quiver. ‘Your turn, Alchemist.’
They took cover in the bushes and waited. Crouching beneath the branches, Hawthorne was close enough that Thea could feel the warmth radiating from his body and she could smell a faint hint of his rosewood soap.
She glanced at him and gripped the bow tighter.
The Warsword was still as stone, but his silver gaze slid to hers, a glimmer of amusement there.
Movement caught Thea’s eye, and she shifted silently on her toes as Hawthorne had taught her. In the clearing was another hare.
A thrill rushed through Thea and she drew an arrow from the quiver, nocking it to the bow. As she breathed in, she pulled the string back, allowing her chest to expand with the movement, feeling the muscles in her arm and shoulders burn —
‘You’re going to miss.’ That voice vibrated in her bones.
Ignoring him, she loosed the arrow.
And cursed him, as the shot went wide.
A deep laugh burst from the warrior, and she looked at him in disbelief.
‘Well, you didn’t expect to become a master hunter in one day, did you?’ he said.
Thea swore colourfully, and he laughed again.
Her frustration dissipating, Thea savoured the sound.
He took the bow and quiver from her. ‘I’d best take it from here, or we’ll go hungry.’
Before long, the warrior had two more hares and they were on their way back to their camp, Dax leaping about their ankles, overjoyed at the prospect of dinner.
Thea made quick work of the fire as the Warsword skinned the game with brutal efficiency.
‘Will they teach us all this as shieldbearers?’ she asked, feeding the flames more kindling. ‘How to survive on the road, I mean?’
‘Perhaps,’ he allowed.
‘You paint a vivid picture,’ Thea said drily.
The corner of Hawthorne’s mouth twitched. ‘Truth be told, I don’t know. It has been a long while since I was stationed at Thezmarr. Many things have changed during my absence.’
‘Did they teach you those things back then?’
‘Back then? Just how old do you think I am?’
Thea laughed. ‘You’re the one that said it had been a long time! How old are you then?’
‘Old enough.’
‘Cryptic, as usual, thanks.’
‘You’re welcome, Alchemist. As for the ranger skills… My mentor taught me. I went everywhere he went and most of our time together was spent travelling between the kingdoms. There was much to learn.’
Hawthorne set the game on sticks and balanced them over the fire to roast. Then, he sat back on his heels and looked at her, the flickering flames casting shadows across his face.
Dax padded out of the darkness and curled up at Thea’s feet, drawing a bewildered look from Hawthorne.
‘What?’ she asked.
The Warsword nodded to the hound. ‘He’s not normally known for his friendly nature.’
‘Not surprised,’ Thea retorted. ‘There are a lot of pricks in the fortress.’
Hawthorne coughed out half his drink. ‘Is that so?’
‘You clearly don’t spend enough time at home,’ she remarked, Seb’s smug face flashing before her.
‘Home…’ He seemed to mull the word over. ‘Is that what Thezmarr is to you?’
‘What else would it be?’
Hawthorne shrugged. ‘I guess we’ll see how you feel about it once you start training.’
‘I started training long ago.’
‘Not like this,’ he warned.
‘I can handle it,’ Thea told him, reaching for the delicate flowers she’d noticed rooted at her side.
Suddenly needing to busy her hands, she plucked several from the earth, keeping the stems long.
Slowly, she started braiding them together.
It was something she had a blurred memory of doing with Wren when they were little, but where she couldn't say.
There were certainly no flower fields in Thezmarr.
‘Where have you been all this time, anyway?’ Thea asked Hawthorne while she crafted a necklace.
‘It’s not something I like to talk about…’
Thea continued to plait the little flowers together. It surprised her when Hawthorne spoke again.
‘You heard everything Audra said about the threats to the midrealms?’
‘Of course. The world out there is chaotic, like it’s waiting for something. The storms are brewing, the clouds are gathering. I’ve seen as much from the cliffs myself.’
‘Ah yes, another rule you’ve been breaking.’ Amusement laced his voice.
‘It’s best not to keep count,’ she advised.
‘I’ll remember that.’ He turned the meat over the fire, seeming to mull over his next words.
‘I’ve been travelling the midrealms, chasing whispers up and down the coasts, following the Veil along the seas…
There are forces at work we do not understand,’ he told her quietly.
‘Things that threaten the peace the three kingdoms have fought so hard for.’
‘Like what? The shadow wraiths?’
Hawthorne stared into the heart of the flames, and for a moment, he spoke to himself. ‘Not just wraiths. I have seen things, many things… So much suffering, so much fear that brings out the worst in humanity. It creeps across the lands like a poison.’
Goosebumps rushed over Thea’s arms. There were always threats to the kingdoms, but this felt different. Bigger, darker… ‘What are people scared of?’
‘A scourge of sorts, breaking through the Veil.’
‘How —’
‘I’ve already said too much, Alchemist,’ his words were firm but not unkind, and Thea knew the time for questions was over.
‘I only mention it because you are a shieldbearer now. And I feel that the era of peace is once more at an end. Thezmarrians need to be ready.’
Thea nodded, the sombre mood settling over her like a heavy blanket. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘For telling me.’
There was a brief pause.
‘You need all the help you can get.’
The seriousness vanished.
And Thea threw her necklace of flowers at him.