CHAPTER SIXTEEN #2
“Thank you,” Deckard said with a new appreciation for the man who rode beside him. “And I do forgive you. I recognize the frustrations you felt, and while I never approved of your cajoling, I do understand the urge. We were all under a great deal of stress during those days.”
Auden nodded. “That we were.”
The men shared a compassionate smile, and Deckard thought he could sense a weight being lifted between them.
It was as though that promise had enacted a barrier, causing the pair to hold equal distrust and dislike for the past three and a half weeks.
And now, at last, they were free to be comrades again.
The troop rode on through the dreary afternoon.
Over the course of the day, their chatter grew so loud that Deckard found himself overwhelmed by their numbers.
At any given time, he overheard five separate conversations happening.
Each drew his attention away from the person before him.
After two months of growing accustomed to their much more subdued party, the cacophony felt outrageous.
At last, they set up camp a mile outside a village, the early spring sun that had emerged in the late afternoon still bright in the sky.
The Ephrians and Calders readily began their old routine of setting up camp, but Vayden, Isla, and Brea looked to Deckard for direction, which suddenly made him realize that he didn’t have jobs for them.
Everyone else had created a pattern over the last few months, knowing exactly where their roles lay.
Now, the seven original members of their party fell back into the rhythm of traveling together, which left the three newcomers decidedly on the outside.
Still, Deckard needed to assign them something to contribute to the evening’s preparations. So he requested that Isla assist Ilain with gathering supplies for a fire, directed Vayden to assist Rafferty with seeing to the horses, and sent Brea with Ethenn and Evylin.
“A Warrior hunting party, eh?” Rafferty said with a smirk. “You lot had better bring us a banquet.”
With her new bow in hand, courtesy of the Alliance, Evylin smirked. “We’ll see what we can do,” she said, then followed Ethenn and Brea into the woods.
The rest of the men set up the five two-person tents around the camp. As the weather was improving, they didn’t need to be right next to the heat of the fire, so they were able to space the tents out nicely, giving privacy to the two married couples.
When their task was done, they readily accepted their break to sit by the now-merrily burning fire and rest.
“So,” Rafferty said, dropping down beside Thom as he winked at Ilain, “what’s it like being with a man half your age?”
“Rafferty,” Deckard warned, but Ilain waved him off.
“When I’m with him in the way you mean,” she said with airy haughtiness, “I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Rafferty leaned over to nudge Thom. “You said they were canoodling last night,” he said as though in accusation.
Thom shrugged. “I simply said he was too busy to drink with us.”
“You made other implications.”
“You heard what you wanted to hear.”
Deckard moved the conversation to a more appropriate subject and turned to Isla and Vayden. “Did I hear correctly that your daughter is returning to stay with her grandparents?”
“Yes, Reyana will stay one more night in Mouroc under the care of the Alliance before traveling south with some of our friends,” Isla said.
“How do you do that?” Thom asked, then clarified, “Part with your daughter for so long.”
Vayden and Isla exchanged a weighty look. “With great difficulty,” he replied. “But we know that what we’re doing is providing a better future for her and—one day—for her own children. So we do it trusting that Allore will grant us and her grace to fulfill his purposes.”
Deckard sat across from Vayden, curious about the man’s seemingly deep faith.
He’d always been taught that Wauldeners were heathens, piteous and villainous wretches who worshipped false gods.
But during all their time with the Calders, they’d come to discover that Ephren had contorted the truth.
While there were a great deal of Waulden people who worshipped the Mages as deities themselves, not an insignificant few still held to the founding religion of their world.
And Deckard was discovering with some discomfort that they held these beliefs with even more piety than most Ephrians.
Such faith confused Deckard in light of other things he’d witnessed.
While the members of the Alliance proclaimed their dedication to Allore and seemed quite passionate in their professions, he struggled to accept it as truth.
Not when they were wholly bent on conquering the nations and willing to do whatever it took to secure their new reign.
How far would the Alliance go to secure their aims?
“I’ve got a question,” Rafferty said, and they all gave him a wary look. “Perfectly innocent, I swear.”
“Go on,” Isla said.
“Your daughter,” he said, motioning between the couple. “She’s three-quarters Waulden, right?”
“Correct.”
He pointed straight at Isla. “And you’re a Mage.”
“I am.”
“So your daughter could be, too, right?”
Isla shrugged. “Technically, she could. However, she’s been tested many times with no sign of magic. And it isn’t likely, anyway.”
“Why not?” Thom asked.
“Magic isn’t necessarily genetic,” Ilain clarified. “There are records that indicate the first Mages and Warriors bore exclusively magical children, but that was likely to ensure the continuation of the population.”
“Some theorize,” Auden added, “that it was possible to guarantee magical offspring due to the marital rite that Allore himself enacted over them.”
“Yes,” Ilain confirmed. “Though the more I study Bonding, the more I’m convinced that it was the marital rite Allore instituted.
If that’s the case, then there’s a chance any children born out of a Bonded union would be sure to be magical, but it’s been so long since any couple has Bonded, we can’t be sure. ”
Deckard frowned. “So you’re saying that a Bonded couple might only have magical children?
” he asked, unsure whether or not that was a better outcome.
He’d considered the implications of a magic-prolonged life on his dreams of fatherhood.
It would be difficult to outlive your children, watching them grow old and die while you remain young and virile.
But it would be equally difficult watching them carry the same burden of responsibility that came with magic, the same knowledge that they, too, were destined to watch those they loved fade long before them.
“Maybe,” Ilain said. “But it doesn’t seem likely. Think about the implications of that: If Bonded couples only had magical children, they would have centuries to reproduce, potentially birthing dozens of children. Eventually, that would overwhelm the populace with magic.”
While Deckard was uncomfortably intrigued at the prospect of continuing the conversation, the Warriors returned from their hunting trip, each with a brace of birds.
With Ethenn’s hunting skills, Brea’s keen eyes, and Evylin’s quick ability to learn, it had only taken them a short time to secure enough meat for the next few days of travel.
While Ilain, Auden, and Vayden helped the Warriors with the butchering, Rafferty praised their efforts.
“No one else is allowed to hunt for us again,” he proclaimed.
When Deckard took the seat next to Evylin as she plucked the feathers from one of the fowls, she gave him a self-mocking grin. “I’ve never felt so useless in my life,” she said. “Those two are scary with a bow.”
Across from them, Brea split open a carcass.
“Every Warrior has their individual strengths,” she said with an instructor’s tone.
“And as you were not trained in archery, it seems it’s taking you longer to get acquainted with the skill.
Though, you may never take to it. I hear you are very impressive with a sword, which is a skill I have always been lacking in. ”
“Really?” Evylin asked. “I thought Warriors were predisposed to be good at fighting.”
Brea smiled. “I’m not saying that I couldn’t beat every single man in this camp in a duel,” she said. “However, should I come upon a highly trained Warrior who is more proficient in swordplay than I, I would assuredly struggle. I’m not built for it. I’m too short and scrawny.”
“You’re anything but scrawny,” Vayden said.
“I am trim; I have muscle, yes.” Brea pointed her blade at him.
“But . . . muscle alone does not equal strength. My figure is too slim and too small to add mass adequately. No matter what I do, I will never be built like Evylin. She is tall and agile, and you can see the roundness of her musculature, indicating the strength she carries.”
“That you can,” Rafferty said slyly.
Deckard gave him a withering glare.
Rafferty snickered. “Just complimenting your wife’s figure, Colonel.”
“I’d rather you keep your eyes off her figure, Corporal.”
Evylin traded a plucked bird for a feathered one, beginning her task yet again. “Are you an archer, then?” she asked Brea.
“I am proficient in many styles of combat,” Brea said. “I often carry a bow on my horse, and I always carry a short sword for close combat. However, my preferred weapon is a staff.”
Ethenn looked up, curious. “I’ve never seen anyone fight with a staff before,” he remarked.
“I’d be happy to teach you,” Brea said. “It can be quite fun, though rarely as deadly. It is a more common practice in Tanemisa, the free states below Schon. I trained with one of their best staff masters when I was a young woman. He wasn’t a Warrior, but he was impressive all the same.”
“Could you teach the rest of us?” Thom asked.
“Maybe,” she said, giving him a snide grin. “If I have the time, mi’caro.”
“Te’á envela, Breata,” Isla said in a singsong tone.
“Ai’á virtida, Islaren,” Brea returned.