Chapter 6 #2
Chaldora frowned, a hundred wrinkles appearing. “We speak Markarian, Aurina.”
She shook her head. “Your language…it’s called English. It’s spoken throughout the galaxy.”
Kavon saw the scholars’ eyes widen, a million questions in their eyes. The last thing he needed was Aurina spreading tales of life beyond the stars to his most impressionable clan members. He wanted order in his land, not anarchy.
“Back to the story,” he said.
Aurina looked up at him, something sparking in her eyes.
He sighed. “Please. Focus on the sword.”
Chaldora sank into a chair. “The First Warriors brought the sword with them. Legend says it was a long, elegant sword, crafted by the Warriors’ greatest weapons maker. It was passed down from great warrior to great warrior, and was the sharpest sword in all the land.”
“It was very old,” Kata added. “And its name meant ‘to endure.’”
“Durendal, Durendal,” Aurina murmured. “It sort of sounds familiar.” She released a breath. “I wish I could contact my cousins. Dathan is a treasure hunter, and his brother Niklas is an astro-archeologist.”
A treasure hunter sounded very close to a thief to Kavon’s ears, but he had no idea what an astro-archeologist might be. The scholars were all looking at her blankly.
“Ah…right,” she said. “One hunts for old treasure and the other studies it and history…kind of like you guys do.” She waved a hand at the scholars. “But we are a long way from my Phoenix cousins.”
“That’s if you even really are a skyflyer,” Kata mumbled. “Warlord, I do not see how this woman can help us. She isn’t from here, and does not even know our legends.”
“Kata, you have had no success after many months of trying,” Kavon said.
The female scholar’s cheeks heated.
“I suggest you let Aurina have longer than a few minutes to try.” He swept the room with his gaze. “I want the sword found, and we’ll do whatever we need to do to achieve my quest.”
“Yes, Warlord,” Davin said.
“Yes, Warlord,” Kata mumbled.
Aurina was looking at him with a smile on her face. She straightened and turned back to the others. “When and where was the sword last seen?”
Davin stirred. “It was thousands of years ago.”
She froze, then groaned. “Thousands of years?” She ran a hand over her hair. “Okay, that’s not going to make things easy.”
“We have written records of what it looked like, and how the First Warriors revered it.”
“You said the First Warriors came from the north? Do you know where?”
Davin shrugged. “The north is all we know. Nowadays, the north is a barren land, sometimes covered in snow, and no one has ever succeeded in finding the cities of the warriors. Our records say the warriors arrived here at a time when the stars were falling from the sky. Before they came, the Markarians were living in the dark, were unenlightened.”
“Our native ancestors were a fearsome, animal-like race. Taller, broader, more muscular and some records say, with scales,” Kavon said.
“Hmm.” Aurina tapped some more on her device. “So, the First Warriors bred with your ancestors.” Her gaze dropped down, tracing over Kavon’s body.
It was an almost clinical appraisal, but Kavon still felt a flare of heat. “Aurina?”
She started. “Right. Well, you definitely look human-like. Your skin is unique. I know you have two hearts…anything else I should know about?”
“We have second copies of almost all our main organs,” Kata said. “It is perfect for warriors. It gives extra strength and stamina, and if one organ is wounded in combat, there?—”
“—is a backup,” Aurina finished. “Wow. You really are bred to fight.”
Kavon eyed her face. “You’ve thought of something.”
“I’m tossing a few ideas around. When I have something workable, I’ll let you know. Chaldora, you mentioned records. Can I see them?”
The elderly woman looked at Kavon, who nodded.
“Of course, all the tomes on the shelves in this room contain legends of the First Warriors.” She waved to the back of the room.
Aurina turned, gasped and sprung to her feet. “Holy stars, real books!” She hurried over, her hands clasped together like she was too afraid to touch the leather-bound volumes. “I haven’t seen real books in forever.”
“You have unreal books?” Davin asked, frowning.
She spun and held up her device. “Electronic records. Easier, but I think we lose something of the charm.”
“Mistress Aurina, I could help you go through the ancient records,” Davin offered eagerly.
Kavon’s gaze narrowed on the young scholar. The man had barely pulled his entranced gaze from Aurina the entire time they’d been in the room. He looked like a pup tripping over its paws to please its master.
Kavon could hardly blame the boy…and sincerely hoped he didn’t have the same look on his face. It wouldn’t be fitting for a warlord. “Davin, have the books delivered to my rooms. Aurina can study them there.”
The young scholar’s face fell.
Kata’s face screwed up. “She shares your rooms?”
“She does as I please.” He let his warlord tone leak into his voice. “As do you.”
Kata’s mouth snapped shut, and she nodded. “Yes, Warlord.”
“Kavon,” Chaldora said. “I have some promising candidates in your search for the daughter of a war?—”
“Not now, Chaldora. I’m far too busy.”
She inclined her head. “As you wish.”
“Come.” He held out a hand to Aurina. “I have sword practice.” And for the first time since he was a lad, he wanted a woman to watch him.
“Ask, barbarian, ask,” she muttered. But there was no heat in her words as she took his hand.
He squeezed her fingers. “Please.”
She smiled, and it made heat flare in Kavon. Maybe they were both adjusting to each other’s ways. The skyflyer and the barbarian.
Aurina could think of worse ways to spend her time.
She sat on one of several stone benches overlooking the hard-packed earth of the training arena. She watched a group of big, strong, half-naked warriors, their muscles flexing and gleaming with perspiration as they trained. Masculine grunts and the clang of metal rang in the morning air.
She’d spent some time studying all the warriors as they swung their swords, or sparred. But of course, her gaze was drawn to one particular warrior.
Kavon moved a little faster, and was more skilled with his sword.
It moved like an extension of him—smooth, powerful, and deadly.
He’d run the men through various drills, including a type of exercise she’d never have guessed to see from tough warriors.
They would stay in one place, swinging their swords through the air in a controlled, steady way that spoke of patience and restraint, not blood-thirsty aggression.
He’d told her control was vital. That it was what gave them strength.
After that exercise, they’d moved into standard sword-fighting drills.
For all their control, they were hard, strong warriors and it showed in the ferocity of their attacks.
Kavon drilled them hard, correcting errors, yelling encouragement and a few insults at them.
He was tough, but fair and dedicated. She saw it in every line of his face.
That dedication to make them the best he could, so they in turn could protect everyone he’d claimed as his.
And to avenge his family, his father.
She understood. She’d loved her mother, and there were days when she’d wished she could have taken revenge on all the people who’d worn her mother down and driven her to an early death.
Aurina’s shoulders slumped a little. How the hell was she going to find this sword?
A sword that she suspected was only a myth, and wasn’t even real.
She leaned her elbows on her knees, and rested her chin in her hands.
And on the off chance that the sword really had existed, it was probably lost to the sands of time.
She was never going to get her e-beacon back.
“Aurina?”
Kavon’s deep voice made her glance up. He was waving her down into the training ring. The other warriors had all paired off and were practicing.
She headed over to him. His bare chest glistened and he smelled of healthy male sweat.
He lifted his sword. “I will show you the basics of sword fighting.”
“Would you like me to show you, Aurina?” she said in a mock deep voice. Then she raised the pitch. “Why yes, thank you, Kavon. Thank you for asking.”
His brows drew together. “Would you like to go back to your seat and look sad and brooding?”
“Now you ask a question, and it’s laced with sarcasm.” She shook her head. “I will have you asking instead of ordering before I leave here. Yes, I would like to learn, but I don’t think I can even lift your sword, Kavon.” The damn thing was almost as long as she was.
“Come.” He circled until he stood behind her. His large arms engulfed her, his damp chest pressed against her back. He placed her hands on the hilt of the sword, while his closed over hers, taking most of the weight of the weapon.
Her gaze snagged on the metal. The sword was a thing of beauty. The blade straight and well-crafted—a warrior’s weapon. Near the hilt were ornate swirls and sharp tips. Not pretty, but striking. It suited Kavon perfectly.