Chapter 22 #3
For the first time, Jhiton growled, and he picked up the speed of his attack.
As a blade whistled toward Vorik’s thigh, he bumped against a tree and couldn’t keep it from slicing in.
But he didn’t cry out, didn’t make a sound at all, only digging in and renewing his attack on Jhiton.
He glanced at Syla, as if drawing strength from her concerned face, and pushed his brother back.
He even tried to angle Jhiton toward the edge.
But the general didn’t allow himself to be so maneuvered.
With the two longer blades, he seemed to have the advantage, forming a wall of moving magical bone.
Vorik couldn’t get close enough to draw blood.
I see you, human friend!
Never had Syla been so delighted to have a dragon speak into her mind. And when she looked south, she spotted the orange dragon flapping her wings against the wind, arrowing up the coast toward the bluff.
I’m relieved to see you, Syla said. I need a ride.
Oh, that is most apparent.
Syla inched closer to the edge. The thought of leaving Vorik when he was in trouble, when he needed healing, distressed her, but she reminded herself that the stormers knew where the Bogberry Island shielder was now.
She had to return and prepare for another invasion.
Besides, once she was gone, Jhiton and Vorik wouldn’t have a reason to continue their battle.
The way they were trying to kill each other now made her question that assumption, but she hoped it was true.
The men glanced toward the dragon as Igliana swooped down, talons extended, and plucked Syla from the edge of the bluff.
Though Syla had expected it, it was still terrifying when those talons tossed her, and she barely kept hold of the amphora.
The pack with the ore and orb slumped to one side, and she almost lost her medical kit as she fought to keep everything else.
It was far more Igliana’s magic than any graceful maneuvering in the air on Syla’s part that allowed her to land on the dragon’s back.
Before she could use her power to anchor herself, Igliana’s magic wrapped around her, holding her in place, and they flew away from the cliff.
Syla looked back toward land, toward the battle, but too much rain spattered her spectacles for her to see well. With the dragon flying swiftly out to sea, the men were already indistinct against the trees.
I love you, Vorik, she thought as Igliana carried her away.
Even if he couldn’t hear the words, she hoped he knew.
Vorik kept an eye on his brother as they watched the orange dragon depart with Syla on her back. As strong gusts of wind battered them, Igliana’s wingbeats faltered, but she didn’t hesitate to continue out to sea, determined to carry her rider away, whatever the weather.
Vorik and Jhiton had stopped fighting when she’d swooped down, Jhiton spinning toward the dragon and raising his blades, probably not certain if Igliana would pluck up Syla or try to end his life.
Vorik had taken the opportunity to back away.
With sweat and rain running down his face and making his hands slick, he wanted no more of the battle.
Further, his leg throbbed where his brother had cut him.
But Syla had gotten away. That was all that mattered.
Jhiton shook his head, looked at Vorik, and lowered but didn’t put away his swords. “Are we done?”
“You tell me.” Vorik wiped his face with the back of his sleeve but also didn’t sheathe his weapons. He hadn’t been fighting with everything he had, but it had seemed like Jhiton had been, that his brother might have killed him, the ultimate punishment for going astray.
Jhiton looked hard at him for a long moment, then wiped his blades and sheathed them. “I don’t know what to do with you, Vorik.”
“You could demote me.”
“How would that help anything?”
“Well, I wouldn’t be directly under your command.”
“No, you’d be tormenting some poor captain who would then report all your shenanigans to me.”
“Were you going to kill Syla?” Vorik asked.
Surely, Jhiton was the one in the wrong here.
Jhiton eyed him. Vorik realized he hadn’t yet sheathed his own weapons.
“If I say, yes, will you run me through?”
“If I tried, I doubt I would succeed.” Vorik sheathed his blades. He’d never had any intention of killing his brother. All he’d known was that he had to stop Jhiton. “You’re still as fast and deadly as you always were.”
“You’re a strong fighter as well.” Wind gusted, managing to snap Jhiton’s cloak even though it was sodden. He looked out to sea, but Syla and the orange dragon had disappeared. “I intended to recapture her and return her to the cave.”
“So Chieftess Shi could arrange her death while we were back in the Kingdom.” It didn’t come out sounding like a question, and Vorik realized he believed the words.
It wasn’t so much that he thought their tribal leader a heinous criminal.
It was more that Shi had less reason to care about Vorik and his potential broken heart than Jhiton did.
“I don’t know what Shi would have done. Neither do you.”
“It was a risk Syla wasn’t willing to take.”
Jhiton snorted and walked into the trees.
He flexed his hip, rotated it, then unbuckled his weapons belt so that he could sit on the ground, a boulder somewhat sheltering him.
Vorik might not have drawn blood in their battle, but he felt a modicum of satisfaction that he’d at least caused his brother to develop a twinge in his hip. A small victory.
“You’re not going to chase after her?” Vorik asked.
“I already asked Ozlemar to come get me. He said he’s not going to fly in this weather.”
“Dragons. So persnickety.”
“Indeed.”
Weary himself, Vorik joined Jhiton in the shelter of the boulder. Reminded of a time after their father had passed when they’d sat back-to-back, alternately watching the sky and looking out at a stormy beach while grieving, he assumed that position now.
“How’d she get past the guards and out of the cave?” Jhiton asked.
“I don’t know.” Vorik shrugged, though he’d seen the men sleeping atypically hard when he’d passed.
“Truly?”
Vorik hesitated. “She might have drugged the soup.”
“With a sedative?”
“Yes.”
“You saw and allowed it? What if it had been a poison that killed everyone?”
“I knew it wasn’t.”
When his brother didn’t answer, Vorik didn’t know if it was because Jhiton thought he was an idiot, or if his silence meant agreement. By now, Jhiton had to also be getting a feel for Syla’s character.
“You don’t expend that much energy healing people you’re going to kill later,” Vorik added, in case it was the former.
“You know her well,” Jhiton said.
“Yeah.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said more, but he wanted his brother to understand. “I think I’m falling in love with her.”
“I know.”
“Are you going to kick me out of the Sixteen Talons?”
According to the age-old rules, one could challenge a superior officer to a duel, but one couldn’t leap out of the woods and try to cut him or her down without warning.
“Do you want me to?” Jhiton asked softly.
The wind was dying down, and Vorik didn’t have any trouble catching the words. “No.”
“I can’t have you working against us.”
“It’s only where Syla is concerned.”
“Syla is the queen of the kingdom we’re trying to take over. She’s going to be concerned with every aspect of every mission.” Jhiton gave him an exasperated look over his shoulder.
“That’s not my fault. She’s noble and wants to personally help defend her kingdom.”
Jhiton grunted. It might have been more like a growl.
“You’re the one who first sent me to seduce her,” Vorik pointed out. “You really have only yourself to blame for this.”
Jhiton scoffed. “I didn’t know she had magical lips and that her kiss would ensorcel you.”
“Her lips are very nice. Other parts are even nicer.”
“You’ve always been into boobs.”
“Oh, yes.” Maybe Vorik shouldn’t have grinned, since his brother sounded more disgusted than understanding, but he couldn’t help himself.
Even if the world was chaos, Syla had gotten away, and his mood was lighter.
“Maybe we can find you a nice well-endowed Kingdom woman with magical body parts capable of ensorcelling you.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Too bad. You need a woman.”
“I had one,” Jhiton said softly. “She left me.”
“That’s not your fault.” Vorik couldn’t bring himself to speak poorly about his brother’s ex-wife. She’d been a good woman, and they’d been a solid match for many years. It had just been too hard for them after all the miscarriages and then the loss of their only son who’d lived into boyhood.
“Are we going to have to fight again if we encounter Syla on Bogberry Island?” Jhiton asked.
It sounded like a serious question. Vorik didn’t want to give an honest answer and opted for a playful one.
“I hope not. You stabbed me in the leg.”
“You held your own.” Jhiton touched his hip. “You’ve grown into a good fighter.”
Was there some pride mixed in with Jhiton’s ongoing exasperation? Since he’d been responsible for most of Vorik’s training, it might make sense.
“Yes, you’d better watch out,” Vorik said. “I’ll have my eye on your other hip next time.”
Jhiton didn’t answer the quip, and Vorik hoped he knew he was joking.
“It’s natural for the son to one day surpass the father,” Jhiton eventually said.
“Father told me that when he was training me, and I was doing my best to be as good as he—and mostly being frustrated because I wasn’t.
He said it would be a bittersweet moment when it finally happened but that he would be disappointed if it didn’t happen. ”
“Is that true for older and younger brothers too? Am I destined to surpass you?”
“No.”
Vorik laughed.
“Not when the younger brother is fattening himself with berry desserts every chance he gets.”
“Sadly, I haven’t had the opportunity to get enough of those for that to happen. I wouldn’t mind having a little fat though.”
“General Jhiton!” came a woman’s voice from the direction of the cave.
Jhiton sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “Chieftess Shi must not have eaten much of the soup.”
“Are you going to get in trouble over this?” Vorik asked.
“She’ll be irked with me, but I’m not worried about any consequences she or the other chiefs might dole out.”
No, he had as much sway among the tribes and the elders and soldiers as any of them did. Maybe more. If only Jhiton would push for leadership of the tribe. But that wouldn’t change anything, would it? He wanted to conquer the Kingdom and take their islands as much as the chiefs did.
“That said, you need to figure this out, Vorik.” Jhiton frowned down at him. “You can’t be at odds with the tribe and the Sixteen Talons and remain with us. If you love her, go join her in the Kingdom.”
“And turn against you and all our people?” Vorik grimaced. As he’d been contemplating earlier, he would choose exile over that.
“I wouldn’t care to fight against you in a real battle, but…” Jhiton spread a hand. His head tilted before he finished the thought. He gazed to the north. “Ozlemar has received a message.”
“From whom?”
“Something is going our way, at least.”
Vorik, who thought quite a bit was going Jhiton’s way, raised his eyebrows.
His brother clasped him on the shoulder. “Lesva got Lady Abrya.”
“Ah.” Vorik couldn’t feel triumphant.
Shi called again, and Jhiton released him, buckled on his sword belt, and strode back toward their people, toward his duty. As he always had and always would. If one of them was going to change, it would have to be Vorik.