Valley of Silence
Page 67
Larkin began to gather the weapons scattered over the ground. As he bent down, an arrow whizzed over his back, and planted itself in Cian’s hip.
“Oh well, bugger it! I must have missed one.”
“Take the harness.” Larkin tossed it at Cian. “And get on.”
He flashed to dragon, and since he considered the arrow might slow him down a little on foot, Cian vaulted up. He caught the next arrow in the air before it could strike. Then Larkin was rising and diving and swerving.
“There, I see them. Second party entirely. Likely a hunting party looking for stray humans or whatever comes to hand.”
He used the bow again, taking out a few as they scattered and took cover.
“It’s just no fun this way,” he decided. Drawing his sword, he leaped off Larkin and dropped thirty feet to the ground.
If dragon’s could curse, Larkin would have turned the air blue.
They came at Cian like the points of a triangle, two male, three female. He sliced the arrow coming at him in two with his sword, then spun the blade back to block the oncoming attack.
The dregs of what he’d felt on the battleground were in him, and he used them. That need for blood, if not to drink, then to shed it. He fought at first to wound, so he could smell it—the rich copper of it, and ride on it as he hacked and sliced.
The dragon’s tail whipped down, slapped one of the females back as she lifted her bow again. Then its claws raked at the throat.
To amuse himself, Cian flipped back, shot a vicious kick into the face of an opponent. When it stumbled he took its head even as he yanked the arrow from its hip and plunged it into the heart of the one coming from his left.
He spun around, saw that Larkin had changed and was ramming a spent arrow in the heart of the last one.
“Is that it then?” Larkin said breathlessly. “Is that the last of them?”
“By my count.”
“And you counted so well the last time.” He rose, brushed himself off. “Bloody dust. Are you feeling more yourself now?”
“Top of the world, Ma.” Cian rubbed absently at his wounded hip. Since it was pouring blood, he ripped off the sleeve of his shirt. “Give me a hand, will you? Quick field dressing.”
“You want me to bandage your arse?”
“It not my ass, you git.”
“Close enough.” But Larkin walked over to see to it. “Drop your drawers then, sweetheart.”
Cian spared him a single dark look, but obliged.
“And what do you think Lilith’s mood will be when not a one of her raiding or hunting parties comes back?”
“She’ll be pissed.” Cian craned his head to watch Larkin’s work. “Royally.”
“Makes a body feel good, doesn’t it? You’ll have a fine hole in your bum for a bit.”
“Hip.”
“Looks like your ass to me. And I’m hungry enough to eat a donkey, hide and all. Time we went back, had ourselves a meal and a tankard. There, you’ll do. It was a good night’s work,” he added when Cian pulled his pants up again.
“Turned out that way. It could have gone otherwise back there at the valley, Larkin.”
Philosophically, Larkin pulled up some clumps of grass to wipe most of Cian’s blood from his hands. “I don’t think that’s the truth of it. I don’t think it could have gone any way but what it did. Now if your ass isn’t too sore, you’ll help me gather up all these nice weapons to add to our supply.”
“Leave my ass out of it.”
Together they began to gather swords, bows, arrows. “I’m sure that portion of you will be fine again shortly. If not, Moira’ll kiss it well for you when they arrive.”
Cian looked over as Larkin whistled a tune and loaded swords in the harness. “You’re a funny guy, Larkin. A damn funny guy.”
I n Geall, Moira walked away from the crystal to stand at the window with her arms folded. “Am I mistaken in it, or were they not told to go check the bases, take no risks?”
“They disobeyed,” Blair agreed. “But you’ve got to admit it was a good fight. And that fire ball was excellent.”
“The delay’s a little concern.” Glenna continued to watch as they flew back toward base. “I’ll work on that. I’m a little more worried about the effect the battlefield had on Cian.”
“He fought it off,” Hoyt replied. “Whatever tried to take hold of him, he fought it off.”
“He did, to his credit,” Glenna agreed. “But it was hard won, Hoyt. It’s something we have to think about. Maybe we can work a charm or spell that will help him block it.”
“No.” Moira spoke without turning. “He’ll do it himself. He’ll need to. Isn’t it his will that makes him what he is?”
“I suppose you’re right.” Glenna studied Moira’s rigid back. “Just as I suppose the two of them had to go out tonight, and do what they did.”
“That may be. Are they back safe yet?”
“Coming in for touchdown,” Blair told her. “And all’s quiet on the western front. Well, eastern front, but that doesn’t have the same literary ring.”
“Quiet for the moment.” Moira turned back. “I think it’s safe to say they’ll be tucked up for the night now, and it’s unlikely there’ll be another raid on the base. We should all get some sleep.”
“Good idea.” Glenna gathered up the crystal.
They said good night, went their separate ways. But none of them went to bed. Hoyt and Glenna went to the tower to work. Blair headed to the empty ballroom to train.
Moira went to the library and pulled out every book she could find on the lore and legend and history of the Valley of Silence.
She read and studied until the first light of dawn.
When she slept, curled in the window seat as she’d often done as a child, she dreamed of a great war between gods and demons. A battle that had raged for a century, and more. A war that had spilled the blood of both until it ran like an ocean.
And the ocean became a valley, and the valley became Silence.
Chapter 17
“S inann, you should be in bed still.”
With her hand resting on her belly, Sinann shook her head at Moira. “I couldn’t let my father leave without seeing him off. Or you.” Sinann looked around the courtyard where horses and dragons and men were preparing for the journey. “It will seem so empty now, with so few of us left inside the walls.” She managed a smile as she watched her father hoist her son high in the air.
“Oh well, bugger it! I must have missed one.”
“Take the harness.” Larkin tossed it at Cian. “And get on.”
He flashed to dragon, and since he considered the arrow might slow him down a little on foot, Cian vaulted up. He caught the next arrow in the air before it could strike. Then Larkin was rising and diving and swerving.
“There, I see them. Second party entirely. Likely a hunting party looking for stray humans or whatever comes to hand.”
He used the bow again, taking out a few as they scattered and took cover.
“It’s just no fun this way,” he decided. Drawing his sword, he leaped off Larkin and dropped thirty feet to the ground.
If dragon’s could curse, Larkin would have turned the air blue.
They came at Cian like the points of a triangle, two male, three female. He sliced the arrow coming at him in two with his sword, then spun the blade back to block the oncoming attack.
The dregs of what he’d felt on the battleground were in him, and he used them. That need for blood, if not to drink, then to shed it. He fought at first to wound, so he could smell it—the rich copper of it, and ride on it as he hacked and sliced.
The dragon’s tail whipped down, slapped one of the females back as she lifted her bow again. Then its claws raked at the throat.
To amuse himself, Cian flipped back, shot a vicious kick into the face of an opponent. When it stumbled he took its head even as he yanked the arrow from its hip and plunged it into the heart of the one coming from his left.
He spun around, saw that Larkin had changed and was ramming a spent arrow in the heart of the last one.
“Is that it then?” Larkin said breathlessly. “Is that the last of them?”
“By my count.”
“And you counted so well the last time.” He rose, brushed himself off. “Bloody dust. Are you feeling more yourself now?”
“Top of the world, Ma.” Cian rubbed absently at his wounded hip. Since it was pouring blood, he ripped off the sleeve of his shirt. “Give me a hand, will you? Quick field dressing.”
“You want me to bandage your arse?”
“It not my ass, you git.”
“Close enough.” But Larkin walked over to see to it. “Drop your drawers then, sweetheart.”
Cian spared him a single dark look, but obliged.
“And what do you think Lilith’s mood will be when not a one of her raiding or hunting parties comes back?”
“She’ll be pissed.” Cian craned his head to watch Larkin’s work. “Royally.”
“Makes a body feel good, doesn’t it? You’ll have a fine hole in your bum for a bit.”
“Hip.”
“Looks like your ass to me. And I’m hungry enough to eat a donkey, hide and all. Time we went back, had ourselves a meal and a tankard. There, you’ll do. It was a good night’s work,” he added when Cian pulled his pants up again.
“Turned out that way. It could have gone otherwise back there at the valley, Larkin.”
Philosophically, Larkin pulled up some clumps of grass to wipe most of Cian’s blood from his hands. “I don’t think that’s the truth of it. I don’t think it could have gone any way but what it did. Now if your ass isn’t too sore, you’ll help me gather up all these nice weapons to add to our supply.”
“Leave my ass out of it.”
Together they began to gather swords, bows, arrows. “I’m sure that portion of you will be fine again shortly. If not, Moira’ll kiss it well for you when they arrive.”
Cian looked over as Larkin whistled a tune and loaded swords in the harness. “You’re a funny guy, Larkin. A damn funny guy.”
I n Geall, Moira walked away from the crystal to stand at the window with her arms folded. “Am I mistaken in it, or were they not told to go check the bases, take no risks?”
“They disobeyed,” Blair agreed. “But you’ve got to admit it was a good fight. And that fire ball was excellent.”
“The delay’s a little concern.” Glenna continued to watch as they flew back toward base. “I’ll work on that. I’m a little more worried about the effect the battlefield had on Cian.”
“He fought it off,” Hoyt replied. “Whatever tried to take hold of him, he fought it off.”
“He did, to his credit,” Glenna agreed. “But it was hard won, Hoyt. It’s something we have to think about. Maybe we can work a charm or spell that will help him block it.”
“No.” Moira spoke without turning. “He’ll do it himself. He’ll need to. Isn’t it his will that makes him what he is?”
“I suppose you’re right.” Glenna studied Moira’s rigid back. “Just as I suppose the two of them had to go out tonight, and do what they did.”
“That may be. Are they back safe yet?”
“Coming in for touchdown,” Blair told her. “And all’s quiet on the western front. Well, eastern front, but that doesn’t have the same literary ring.”
“Quiet for the moment.” Moira turned back. “I think it’s safe to say they’ll be tucked up for the night now, and it’s unlikely there’ll be another raid on the base. We should all get some sleep.”
“Good idea.” Glenna gathered up the crystal.
They said good night, went their separate ways. But none of them went to bed. Hoyt and Glenna went to the tower to work. Blair headed to the empty ballroom to train.
Moira went to the library and pulled out every book she could find on the lore and legend and history of the Valley of Silence.
She read and studied until the first light of dawn.
When she slept, curled in the window seat as she’d often done as a child, she dreamed of a great war between gods and demons. A battle that had raged for a century, and more. A war that had spilled the blood of both until it ran like an ocean.
And the ocean became a valley, and the valley became Silence.
Chapter 17
“S inann, you should be in bed still.”
With her hand resting on her belly, Sinann shook her head at Moira. “I couldn’t let my father leave without seeing him off. Or you.” Sinann looked around the courtyard where horses and dragons and men were preparing for the journey. “It will seem so empty now, with so few of us left inside the walls.” She managed a smile as she watched her father hoist her son high in the air.
