Chapter Twenty-Four #2
She had brought an amulet to his side, which Lorath recognized as a healing talisman.
He had no idea where she had found it, but he took it from her gratefully and placed it around Adreona’s neck.
It wasn’t powerful enough to heal her instantly, but it might just tip the scale between life and death.
Lorath stayed by Adreona’s bedside. He took his meals there, and he slept in the chair next to her, waiting for the amulet, medicines, poultices, and potions to work their effects.
For the first couple of days, she was in and out of consciousness, and when she spoke, it made little sense.
But then one afternoon, she opened her eyes and looked at Lorath with recognition, and he knew she had come through her ordeal.
“Hello, your majesty,” he said. “Welcome back to the world of the living.”
She tried to sit up, but Lorath placed his hand gently against her uninjured shoulder.
“You need rest.”
“I do not need to rest,” she said. “Not when there is a titan on the loose and the watchfire has fallen—”
“Tavie has returned to Athulua,” he said. “She took a large cohort of Askarra Guards to reinforce your troops there. They can hold the line against the Drowned. As for the titan, we have seen no sign of it.”
Adreona closed her eyes, clearly still exhausted but seemingly reassured.
“While you have been recovering,” Lorath said, “your people have embraced you as their queen.”
Her eyes shot open again.
Lorath chuckled. “I’m afraid you won’t be returning to Fort Galina anytime soon. There is a throne waiting for you here.”
“I never wanted the throne.”
“Nevertheless, it is yours.”
She stared up at the ceiling of the chamber, shaking her head. “What am I going to do?”
“That’s easy,” he said. “You are going to rule Skovos according to the virtues to which you aspire.” She looked beautiful to him, lying in bed bruised and wrapped in bandages.
She was the kind of woman he thought he could love, were the circumstances of their lives other than what they were. “All hail Queen Adreona,” he said.
She laughed, then winced. “Quit that.”
“Quit what?”
“You know what.”
“Fine. I’ll quit, if only to show you that I do know how.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Adreona seemed lost in thought until she suddenly asked, “The scepter?”
Lorath brought it out and laid it on the bed beside her. It was a golden wand nearly the length of her forearm, adorned with gems and precious stones and engraved with Firstborn sigils that Tyrael and Donan had spent some time studying. “It was found on Myrina’s body,” he said. “It belongs to you.”
She took it in her hand and raised it up as if testing its weight. “Having control over a titan would not be without its benefits.”
“I would trust you to use the scepter wisely,” Lorath said. “I wouldn’t trust those who come after you, or those who might try to steal it from you. What’s to stop someone from challenging you to single combat, just as you challenged Myrina?”
She lowered her arm, as if the weight of the scepter had exhausted her, and she set it down on the bed next to her. “What do you think I should do with it?”
“That isn’t for me to say.”
“It isn’t your decision to make,” Adreona corrected, “but I do want to hear what you think.”
Lorath looked at the wand, rubbing his beard, which by that point was in need of a thorough trimming. “I’m reminded of something Keldon said to me before he died.”
“What’s that?”
“He was talking about the beast that some of us keep imprisoned within us. He said the only thing to do is to let it go.”
A short time later, the Horadrim escorted Adreona to the island of Lycander, where they now stood on its southern coast. The island’s seemingly endless canopy of trees teemed with birds and insects and offered deep shade.
The air smelled thick and heavy with the perfume of blossoms Lorath had never encountered before.
A firm wind buffeted the shore, sending gray clouds scudding across the sky.
Adreona strode down to where the waves lapped the sugary sand, held up the scepter, and summoned the titan.
Then they waited, and before long, a swell appeared on the flat eastern horizon. Even knowing that Adreona had control over the beast, Lorath still felt an involuntary apprehension as it churned toward them, and he fought the urge to retreat from the waterline into the safety of the trees.
When the titan finally reached them, it lumbered up out of the sea, curtains of water raining down from the plates and joints of its gnarled carapace, its heavy claws striking the ground with a deep thudding that Lorath felt in the core of his chest. Its breath reeked of dredged muck.
Its crimson eyes stared down at them, large as wagon wheels, the memories and thoughts behind them inscrutable.
Adreona strode closer to it, appearing unafraid, her arm still held in a sling.
At a silent command, the beast bent its head down toward her, and she took the spear still jutting from its cheek in her good hand.
With a sharp wrench, she pulled the weapon free, after which the titan raised its head and roared into the sky.
It was so loud that Lorath had to cover his ears, and he was unable to tell whether it was expressing pain, joy, anger, or an entirely unique emotion unknown to any creature but itself.
“Go now!” Adreona commanded. “But hear my command and obey: Never again will you leave the water. Never again will you approach these islands or the continents beyond. You are free to swim the deepest depths of the most distant seas, and they shall forever be your home!”
The titan roared again, and this time, Lorath thought he could detect a clear exuberance beneath its deafening rumbles. Then it turned and slid back under the water, sending waves crashing all the way up to the knees of those who stood watching its departure. Within moments, it was gone.
Adreona then turned to Tyrael. “I wonder if I might ask a favor of you.”
“Of course, your majesty.”
“Lorath tells me your blade is angelic.”
“It is…a powerful blade,” Tyrael said.
She showed him the scepter. “Can it cut through this?”
Tyrael pulled El’druin from its scabbard. “I believe it can, if that is what you wish.”
“It is,” she replied.
Then she held the scepter before him, and with one mighty swing, Tyrael severed the wand in half.
Upon its sundering, the rod emitted a sharp light, discharging its energies as it ceased to be a relic of power and became nothing more than an artifact of historical curiosity.
Adreona collected the piece that had fallen to the ground.
“Thank you,” she said. “Lorath, may I have a word with you?”
“Of course, your majesty,” Lorath said.
They strolled away from the others along the beach. Cormorants flew overhead, diving for fish in the sparkling waves. Crabs and other crawling things ducked into the crevices of rocks at their passing.
Adreona said nothing for a long time, and Lorath waited.
He thought he knew some of the thoughts that were going through her mind because they were thoughts he had considered during his vigil at her bedside.
As much as he might wish for more between them, the circumstances of their lives made that impossible.
“You are Horadrim,” she finally said, as if she had seen into his mind.
“And you are the Amazon Queen of the Askari,” he answered.
“We have responsibilities that come before any personal desires. No matter how much we might want something.”
“That is true, your majesty.”
“Please,” she said, “you may continue to call me Adreona.”
“But I like to think of you as a queen.”
“I would prefer you think of me as a friend,” she said. “And I want you to know that you will always be welcome in Skovos. The palace doors will never be shut to you.”
“I appreciate the invitation, your majesty.” Lorath walked with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes cast downward. “Perhaps I may return one day.”