22. Mare
Mare
Noblewomen did not dig graves.
But Paragons did.
My arms burned as I plunged the shovel into the wet ground and pulled out another chunk of soil. Wiping my brow, I looked over at Reese. He knelt over a fresh grave, reciting a prayer.
In Aenir, we burned the dead and scattered their ashes to the winds. Their essence rode the wind back to the Saint's abode, past the reach of time, far across the sea.
Forlaith had ordered Aenir to change many of its customs when it came under their control. Our funeral arrangements had been left untouched, so long as we prayed to Solathair instead of the saints.
Muirashi buried their dead in revered graveyards to be visited for generations to come.
I wondered what they had worshipped before Forlaith. It had been so long ago, all records had been destroyed, and the living had long forgotten.
"Tired, sister?"
Liam stood at the edge of my shallow grave. He rolled up his sleeves and motioned for me to get out. Relieved, I clambered out of the hole and caught my breath.
The stars glittered overhead. Morning had come, and we had not slept. Liam glanced up at them and extended his hand.
The earth shifted under his command, flowing up and away from my hole like a reverse waterfall. When he lowered his arm, a perfect little grave remained.
"Great," I said. "You can dig the rest."
Liam shook his hand. "I'm not great at Earthborn magic. I've got one, maybe two left in me."
"Slacking off? How typical of you." I tsked.
"We're almost done here. You spent last night slaying dragons." He tilted his head toward town. "Go rest."
Nodding, I rubbed my weary eyes. "Okay." Setting my shovel down, I trudged back toward the village.
Two men passed me, carrying a body between them. I paused to watch them lower him into the grave, and caught a glimpse of the corpse's face.
A young guard with soft features. His oversized, hand-me-down helmet had fallen over his eyes when he'd looked up at me.
To ask me what I needed from him.
This young man had told his fellows to listen, had given me his trust.
Now, he was dead. Torn in half.
Pain throbbed in my heart as I turned away.
The fields of silver-flowered crops glistened with morning dew under the soft moonlight. They swayed gently in the breeze, ignorant of all that had happened last night.
The village was empty and quiet. Most people had fled on foot. I hoped nothing had followed them down the road to Tsuyan.
I found an empty house and sat on its porch. A stream ran through their yard, and the sound of trickling water beckoned me to sleep.
Pulling my knees up, I wrapped my arms around them. Tremors shook me, and I rocked back and forth.
I'd meant to summon lightning, but shadows had answered my call. Every inquisitor in Forlaith would come hunting for my head should they learn.
I couldn't hide this magic if I couldn't control it.
What if it slipped out during training, or the next battle? The moment Reese saw, he'd either kill me on the spot or drag me back to the capital to be executed.
Or maybe he and the Inquisitors would torture me to death, trying to learn about the Shadowlands and the black tide.
They would never believe I knew nothing.
"Are you okay?"
Bláth's voice struck me like a slap. I slammed my head against the wall as I whipped around to look at her.
"Well," Bláth said, running a hand along the wall as she approached me. "You aren't now, at least."
Rubbing my head, I gathered myself. "Is something wrong?"
"No.” She knelt beside me, frowning. "We haven't had time to talk. You must be wondering what I think."
I shifted into a more dignified sitting position. "About Cierthine choosing me? Or about all this?" I gestured vaguely.
"The former," she sighed. "Reese told you I'm a handmaiden, right? Unfortunately, I don't represent what Forlaith will think." Her lips spread into a grin. "You probably don't have many allies, right now. But I think it's grand."
Plenty of women around the kingdom would find news of my title fascinating. Inspiring. Plenty more would be appalled.
At least this one liked the idea.
"How did a Solheart become a lowly handmaiden, anyhow?" I asked.
Bláth sat beside me, one knee pulled up. "That is a long, touchy story. I'm not a noblewoman. And I'm a foul-blood, at that."
"But all Solheart children—”
"Are Solhearts.” Bláth rolled her eyes. "Not in Forlaith, they aren't. If you aren't pureblood, you're cast out.” She chuckled. "Being a handmaiden must sound mundane, but my Lady gives me interesting work."
"Like dying at the hands of dragons."
"Brighid is lucky she pays me well, otherwise I'd quit." Bláth nudged me. "I'd bet she'd love to meet you. Would try to sponsor you, too. Vouch for letting you keep the title."
"You'll have to introduce us.” I sat up and cleared my throat. "So, you used to work with the Paragons?"
Bláth's eyes fluttered closed, and she hung her head. "I could found a city, and I'd still be better known for that."
"Sorry. Touchy subject?"
"No." Bláth lifted her head. "It was a fun few years. And then, it ended. That's all there is to it."
I rolled my tongue in my mouth, trying to parse what I was feeling. I'd nosily pried into others' affairs countless times. Asking about someone's old flame had never felt so awkward before.
Why did this feel so awkward?
"That's not a good enough answer," I said, turning away. "I'm from Aenir. We perish without a weekly dose of gossip."
"Ferris said the same thing." Bláth shook her head. "I'm afraid nothing sordid happened. We had a nasty fight. The kind you cannot reconcile from."
A hint of regret laced her words, but she spoke with certainty.
Relief washed over me. Why did I feel relief?
Was I an idiot? I'd just done the single most heretical thing in the history of the world, and I was worried about love affairs?
Bláth touched my shoulder. "I came here to tell you something important, not gossip." She smiled. "You won't have many friends in the days to come. Some people might seem like allies at first, but they'll throw you to the wolves in the end. If you need help, you can come to me."
I studied the Solheart woman, her warm smile, and beautiful eyes. "Why would you do that for me?"
"Because if Brighid knew about you, she'd order me to ensure you survived. Because you're a hero who proved you deserve the title. And—” Bláth tilted her head. "Sometimes women have to look after each other."
My head throbbed as I fought back an expression of guilt.
I was no hero. If anyone here deserved that moniker, it was her. A Solheart who'd stood by these people, for no reason save it was the right thing to do.
She deserved the truth.
Instead, I donned one of my many masks and smiled. "Thank you. Don't put yourself in danger on my account, though."
Bláth stood, tucking her hands into her pockets. "No Paragon has ever ordered me around." Winking, she turned and stepped off the porch.
I waited until she was out of earshot to fall apart. Burying my face in my hands, I dug my fingers into my eyes. Willing them to fall asleep, to save me from this waking nightmare.
Panic and terror buried themselves deep in my soul, throbbing like drumbeats.
For a few minutes, I tried to press my demons away. Giving up, I stood. Finding something to do would keep my mind off my imminent doom.
I stepped off the porch and nearly ran into the young man whose leg had been wounded. Messy, mud-caked hair hung around red eyes. The sea-colored pupil buried in his swollen lids glared at me.
He looked to be about fifteen or sixteen. A little younger than Ferris.
"You're the new Paragon, right?" He asked. "Nobody saw fit to mention that, until now."
Reese hadn't told the villagers I was a Paragon, too? That was probably wise. They wouldn't have been comforted by the news.
"I'm not a Paragon, yet," I said, trying to come up with words of solace for the kid. "Just a squire, really."
"You carry the sword.” His eyes flicked to Cierthine's hilt. "Why did it pick a woman?"
"I . . . I don't know,” I said, wondering where this was going.
"Why didn't you give it to someone better?" His voice was hollow. "Someone capable. If they'd been here, maybe my brother would have survived."
His brother. Had that been the young guard he'd sobbed beside?
Saints. Had it been the sweet kid who'd trusted me?
I tried to find an answer. But what could I possibly say?
"Well?" He demanded. "Why?"
The accusation cut through me like a blade. I'd done more than fail them: I'd killed them.
The black tide had arrived after me twice. It followed me. Sought me.
I was the worst kind of monster.
A sharp voice cut through the air. "Because Paragon weapons have a will of their own. They cannot be denied.” Reese strode toward us, face streaked with dirt. "And had she not been here, more of you would have perished."
The boy glowered at me, unconvinced.
"You're seeking answers that no one can give," Reese said. "All you can do for your brother now is live and ensure he is honored for his sacrifice when the storm passes.”
The boy glanced at Reese and stalked away. I exhaled, thoroughly defeated.
Reese watched him go with a furrowed brow. "Don't take it to heart. People turn to anger when they're grieving."
"I know," I said quietly.
He sighed. "You need to steel yourself. Even if you slayed a dragon outside Tsuyan's walls, they still wouldn't think you were good enough."
Pinching my nose, I exhaled angrily. “Do you know how many times Liam impressed Father with passing grades while I failed to move him with soaring marks?” I threw my hands up. "Why would the stodgy men in Tsuyan be any different?"
A smile curled Reese's lips. He looked strangely handsome, all smudged and muddy and stripped down to only a white shirt.
"They won't be," he said. "And when the lords of Muirashi try to slip poison in your drink, I'll shove my sword through their mouths.”
"Oh. Well, I'd settle for a good talking to . . ." I cleared my throat, glancing down. A black glove still covered his right arm. "Why do you always wear that, anyway?"
Reese flexed his hand and glanced around. I knew that look—Liam wore it all the time.
He was searching for a convincing lie.
"Because . . . " He trailed off. "Because it makes me more mysterious." Mouth twitching into a smile, he turned and walked away.
I trudged after him. "What happened to dispelling the mysteries?"
"We will." He glanced back. "More clothes will come off eventually. It's inevitable.”
I stopped in my tracks. " . . . what? Why is that inevitable?"
Reese stared at me, deadly serious. "Have you ever heard of Terishal mud-wrestling?"
"You're deflecting."
"I'm not. Agendra challenges all the Paragons to mud-wrestling. You'll be no exception."
"Oh," I breathed, disappointed.
Why was I disappointed? I should be appalled. Mud-wrestling was not the sort of thing a lady of Tirnanog should partake in.
Reese grinned, stepping closer. "Disappointed?" He stood a breath away, arms folded. "What were you hoping I'd say?"
What was I hoping he'd say? Flushing, I focused on curling a lock of hair around my finger. "I'd rather watch you two mud-wrestling, honestly." I sniffed. "Sounds entertaining."
"Oh, it is." He tilted his head, red waves falling over his eyes. "Feeling a bit better now?"
I blinked. Had he been trying to cheer me up? My distress had been carefully tucked beneath a mask, yet he'd seen through it like polished glass.
Had an unknown god of perfection molded this man in its image?
"We've done what we can for these people," he said. "We should—”
Reese grabbed my shoulder and pushed me behind him. Drawing his blade, he planted himself in front of me.
A horse thundered through the mud, bearing a young man with dark hair and bright blue eyes.
He wore the dark blue robes of a Shatterblade—but no armor. His eyes widened when he saw Reese.
"P-Paragon Tiernan?" He asked.
His horse took a step back, frightened by the blood and corpses.
Reese lowered his blade. "What are you doing here?"
"Word came that you changed course. I was sent to find you." The young man swallowed. "Minsawa has fallen, my lord. The survivors are retreating to Tsuyan."
"Fallen?" Reese repeated. "What about Ishii?”
"Paragon Ishii never arrived."
Reese's hand tightened into a fist. He turned to me. "Find your mount if you can. We need to leave—now."
He touched my shoulder gently and jogged away. I spun in a circle, trying to decide where to go. What to do.
Minsawa had fallen? Another fort destroyed, like Galasvar?
I sprinted out of the village, back to the graveyard. Liam stood under a willow tree, watching a mother bury her small child.
The sight of the short bundle of cloth stopped me in my tracks. My mind went blank as she lowered the baby into the grave.
Liam turned, noticing me. "I thought I told you to rest?"
His voice cracked in a way I had not heard since he was small.
I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the woman. "Word just came that Minsawa fell. We're to leave for Tsuyan."
"Shit,” Liam breathed.
"But . . . But I don't think we should."
"What?" Liam pulled from my grip. "Why?"
"Because . . . " I trailed off.
He must have sensed the terror in my voice. Seizing my arms, he spun me to face him. "Because what?"
"This is the black tide, Liam. And I think it's going to follow me there."