“Yes, but it’s better to be sleeping on the cold ground up here than for all of us to be forced to march to war in the south.”
“I’d have stayed in Garden City if I’d thought Captain Monteros would send me to the battlefields. At least then you know who the enemy is. I’m glad we left. Especially now when they can’t spare the men to look for us.”
Graylem held his breath. The men were deserters of Eden’s Guard, which explained the quality of the saddles and horses. It made him doubly glad he had chosen these mounts to steal. After all, was it technically stealing when you took what didn’t rightfully belong to another? It would serve them right to have to walk to wherever they were going. They had broken their oath to serve the kingdom and keep the people in it safe. They deserved to suffer a bit for that crime.
He watched the men drink from their skins and waited for the moment he knew would eventually come. Finally, one pushed off the log and unfastened his britches as he staggered toward the water. The other laughed and followed behind. That’s when Graylem bolted toward the horses.
“Stop!” There was splashing behind him as Graylem swung himself onto one of the mounts. He leaned over, grabbed the reins of the other, and tightened his grip with his legs to urge the horse to run.
His heart thudded with the pounding of the hooves. Still, he grinned at the calls of “Thief! Stop!” knowing they would never catch him, even if they did get their pants fastened.
The horses thundered through the trees as he looked for Deevana. There. She stepped out from the shadows, and he brought the horses to a stop next to her. Angry shouts echoed in the distance. They were far, but not far enough to render them little threat.
“They weren’t happy to be relieved of their mounts, so you’re going to have to hurry.” He slid down, grabbed two of her bags, and fastened them to the back of the horse as his sister climbed on. He passed the rest of her things up and started to tell her to just hold onto them and secure them later, when the sound of hooves rang from behind him.
“Graylem!” Deevana called as he pulled his sword from its sheath and spun in time to see two mounted men racing toward them.
“Thief!” The calls from behind were closer. “Greckor! Tyson! Stop him!”
“We’ve got him!” One of the mounted men yelled back as both men on horseback reached for their swords. “And his lady!”
“Run, Gray!” Deevana yelled.
Not unless he wanted a blade in the back.
He cursed his stupidity as the first horse bore down on him. All of us one of the men by the river had said. These were the others those words referred to.
He drew his sword as his sister screamed. Focus on what’s happening now, he thought as he took deep breaths. The hooves grew closer, and he knew the man would swing his weapon as soon as he got in range. Graylem had one chance to get this right.
Wait for it. Set. Now.
He slashed out. The blade sliced through the leather strap of the saddle, and Graylem dove to the side as the other man’s sword whistled just overhead. He heard the man shout. There was a thud. A horse neighed. And then the approach of more thundering hoofbeats as he scampered to his feet and turned. He struck out with his blade as the deserter from the guard brought his sword downward. Metal struck metal. Graylem deflected the blow and spun. The other man’s weapon was bigger than Graylem’s, but as with Lord Havershire, the weight of the broadsword meant it took longer for the man to recover from his swing. The deserter was just pulling back his blade when Graylem stabbed the man deep in the thigh and yanked the blade downward.
The man screamed. Blood spurted. The broadsword dropped to the ground as the man leaned forward to clutch the wound. The horse darted forward at a dead gallop, disappearing with the bleeding man into the night.
“Watch out, Graylem!”
He turned and raised his sword just in time. The man he had unseated from his mount was big. The guardsman’s sword crashed against Graylem’s blade and sent him staggering backward. The guardsman swung again. Another block. Graylem’s feet slipped on the wet leaves as he retreated once again, making the oath-breaking guardsman smile.
“Gray. The others are coming!”
“It’s no matter. Because I’m going to kill you first,” the burly guard yelled. He raised his sword and ran forward. Only this time, Graylem didn’t block. He ducked and lunged to the side. Then from one knee he thrust his sword upward into the attacker’s stomach. The man screamed. Pain and death swam in the deserter’s eyes as Graylem yanked his sword free. The man toppled, and Graylem raced toward where Deevana and their horses waited. He grabbed his mount’s reins from her hand and yelled, “Ride!”
Her horse started forward as he swung up on his own and urged him to follow.
“Stop!”
He glanced over his shoulder as the wet deserters came running into view. One of them leaned over their fallen friend while the other pulled back his bow. The arrow didn’t come close. Knowing they could never catch him or his sister, Graylem turned forward and galloped behind Deevana.
3
Several times Deevana shouted his name and asked for them to slow, but he insisted they keep riding—first to the road and then south for as long as their horses could gallop. Finally, he slowed his horse and called, “I think we are far enough away now to make camp. The horses need rest.”
They left the road and found a small pond where the horses could drink. In the distance beyond he saw the steady glow of dozens of wind-powered lights against the night.
“That’s a lot of lights,” Deevana said, coming to stand next to him. “Do you think it could be Temperance Hold?”
He shook his head. “We haven’t traveled far enough to reach the District of Miluina yet. It must be a large village near a keep.”
“If it is, they have a lord more generous than Blackthorn was,” his sister observed. Graylem nodded. Blackthorn Keep used wind power to light its halls and power the village water pumps and the mill. The rest made due with torches and candles to chase the shadows. Their father used to tell stories of windmills the size of mountains and cities that glowed like the sun even when the moon shone. Maybe they weren’t exaggerations after all.
He tethered his horse to a squat bush next to the pond then reached for the reins of his sister’s mount.
“I didn’t know you could fight like that,” she said.
He felt Deevana’s eyes on him as he stared at the lights in the distance. “You saw Father teach me how to use a sword.”
“Not like that. Father had quick hands and quicker feet, but he couldn’t fight like that.”
“The sword he used was heavier. I started using a lighter one when I began working with Goodman Bryant.” A few weeks after he’d started at the smithy, there had been a tournament held by the Blackthorns. The son of a neighboring lord had fought with the same kind of blade Graylem now carried. The lord was of lean build, just like Graylem, and appeared as if he would be at a disadvantage next to all the bigger, stronger fighters. Graylem had never seen anything like it.
It took him weeks to convince Goodman Bryant to help him make a similar sword. Once he did, Graylem practiced what he remembered seeing on the tournament field—alone, and then with whatever apprentice was willing to face him. He’d lost more than he’d won to start. Then one day he started winning.
“And you kept it a secret.”
“It wasn’t something anyone needed to know,” he said, glad the moon wasn’t bright enough for the blush of his half-truth to show. His father would have pushed him to use the skill to aid his thieving. His mother would have endlessly worried for him. So he had kept his secret and waited for the day he could prove himself with his blade.
He never imagined that the first time he did so, he would cause men to die.
“I wonder what other secrets you are keeping,” Deevana whispered. “What else can you do?” Before he could think of an answer, she turned toward her packs to set up camp. For a change, she said littl
e as they ate and only complained of his unwillingness to let her use his blankets when it was time for sleep.
“You should have thought to pack your own instead of bringing along—” He glanced at the bundles next to his sister. “Whatever it is you brought with you.”
Deevana sighed. Graylem refused to feel guilty when she settled into her cloak and he into his blankets, but he failed when she shivered in her sleep. Carefully, he placed one of his blankets over her and wrapped himself in the other. He watched as some of the lights in the distance darkened as he waited for the screams of pain and the gurgles of death to fade from his mind.
“I had the most wonderful dream,” Deevana said when the pond glistened with the early morning light. “I dreamed of hundreds of lights like the ones we saw last night. And the orb shining high above the Palace of Winds.”
“It sounds as if you slept well.”
“You didn’t?” she asked, turning toward him. Whatever she saw in his face made his sister frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said, not wanting to give voice to the images of death that had haunted him through the night. He reached into his travel pack, pulled out a roll, and threw it to his sister. “It’s time for us to ride. The farther south we go the farther we will be from the men we relieved of their horses.” The men might want their horses back, but they wouldn’t risk traveling closer to Garden City where they could be recognized as deserters.
“Do you think we could see it?” Deevana asked once they were on the road again.
“See what?”
Deevana rolled her eyes and laughed. “The lights of Garden City. The orb of Eden. I want to know if they are as bright and beautiful as everyone says.”
“Knowing you,” Graylem said, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to convince your husband to take you there. Maybe you’ll even see the Hall of Virtues and the Throne of Light.”
“Or I could see it before then.” She smiled. “After all, we are riding south to Irae. Garden City is on the way.”
He had planned on giving Garden City a wide berth. The last thing they needed before Deevana was safely married and assured her new life was a city full of items that could tempt her. “There’s no time. We don’t want word of your supposed death reaching Lady Venia and her son before you do.”
“There is little to no chance of that happening, Graylem. And the way your face currently matches your hair tells me you know that to be true. So why can’t we stop in Garden City? Lady Venia and my soon-to-be husband can’t be expecting us to arrive anytime soon. If they were, you would have talked to me about the marriage prospect before yesterday.”
“You’ll see Garden City once you are married,” he assured her. “If you just wait . . .”
“But if I wait, I won’t see it with you.” Deevana yanked on her reins and brought her horse to a stop. “I won’t be able to picture you there. And that’s where you intend to go after, isn’t it?”
His horse danced underneath him as he urged it to stop. “What?”
Deevana sighed. “You kept your skill with the sword a secret for years. I’m guessing it’s because you wanted to enter one of the Blackthorn tournaments and take all the other swordsmen by surprise. If you won, you would have been given enough coin to live on for years and offered a position as one of the ranking members of some northern district lord’s guard.”
Graylem shrugged. “And now they think I’m dead.”
“Which is why you have to do something else. And really, this is better because you are better than that life.”
“I’m not our father, Deevana. I don’t need more.”
“Maybe not, but you deserve more than what being in the service of Lord Blackthorn would offer. Now you can set your sights higher. What higher place could there be than Garden City and the Palace of Winds? You could be a defender of the Seven Virtues and slay the King’s enemies.”
Graylem looked off in the distance.
“You didn’t like killing those men. It haunts you.” It wasn’t a question. Like it or not, just as he knew his sister’s heart, she knew his.
“I never took a life before,” he said quietly. “I always knew I might have to as a member of Blackthorn’s guard, but so rarely does that happen. I guess I just told myself it would never happen.”
“You know you didn’t have a choice. They attacked us. They would have killed both of us had you not defeated them.”
Defeated.
A nice word to cover unpleasant things.
“You told me you thought they were deserters of Eden’s Guard.”
He nodded.
“What would happen to them if they were caught and brought back to Garden City?”
“They would be put to death,” he said, feeling some of the pressure inside his chest release at the truth Deevana offered. The men had earned their deaths long before they had met him. And yet . . .
“I know you’ve always been frustrated with me,” Deevana said. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and she smiled. “You’ve always liked to follow the rules that I felt chained by. You believe in earning what life gives you. There is no one I can imagine making a better King’s Guardsman because you do what is right. It’s why you feel responsible for my happiness.”
“I care about your happiness because I love you. You’re my sister.”
“And what of your happiness?” she asked, her eyes ablaze with feeling. “I know you don’t think that I worry about you, but I do. It’s an older sister’s job to worry about her younger brother.”
“You are only ten months older, and you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Of course I do. You have ensured my future. You burned everything we owned to make sure I could live that future. And now it is my turn to make sure you don’t give up on yours.” Deevana nudged her horse closer to his, and she reached over and took his hand in hers. “It’s my fault that you lost a chance to gain the life you wanted to live. Let’s go to Garden City now so you can see whether a better life might be waiting for you there. I can be there for you the way you have always been there for me. And when I start the life that you have worked so hard to give me, I will be able to do so without regret.”
Warmth and relief flooded him. Despite living in the same house and seeing each other every day, Graylem had been isolated from his sister as he planned for the future and worried about what she might think of those plans. Now . . .
Something glinted in Deevana’s eyes, and he noticed the way she leaned forward on her horse. The way she held her breath as she waited for him to agree. He had seen that anticipation before.
“And that’s the only reason you want to go to Garden City. For me. To help me decide if I should try to become a member of Eden’s Guard?” he asked.
Deevana’s eyes narrowed for just a second, and the knot inside him tightened. “No, that’s not the only reason,” she admitted with great sincerity. Then she gave him an impish smile. “It’s also because it will be fun!”
His sister’s sense of fun lasted two days. The sun shone as they slowly made their way south through their home district of Orgo to the very northernmost part of the kingdom of Eden, toward Miluina. Then sleet fell from the sky and the food Graylem had brought with him began to run low. He had to stop their travel in order to set traps and hunt—two things Deevana chafed at.
“Why don’t we go to one of the farmhouses or get food in a village?” she asked.
“Because winter has just come to an end and the farmers will have little enough food for themselves. They won’t have extra on hand, and unless you have a wealth of gold that I don’t know about, we don’t have the coins necessary to pay for food and still have enough to stay in Garden City for a handful of days.”
His sister frowned each time they stopped early so he could tread through the trees and over the hills, putting his father’s bow to use, but she was full of effusive praise when he arrived back at their camp with a gray rabbit or a grouse, and, on their second week of
travel, a hill deer who must have recently joined the male herd Graylem had stumbled across. The animal had not been quick enough to sense danger before the arrow found its heart.
It took time to skin the deer as well as cook the meat and dress its fur. But for once Deevana didn’t mind helping with the chores or the delay since it meant gaining a warm ground cover for her to sleep on and enough meat to allow them to travel for days without needing to waste time on finding more. Graylem also used the time to practice with his sword and work out the kinks from sleeping on the ground. All the while he slashed at imaginary foes and ducked away from the blades he could picture coming toward him, he could feel his sister’s eyes watching. Though every time he turned toward their campfire, she was looking away.
The sleet and rain disappeared as the days passed. Green buds appeared on the trees. They saw more travelers on the road, and one night he and his sister camped with a Garden City merchant and his daughter. While Deevana discussed the jewelry the merchants made and the lords and ladies who purchased their wares, Graylem asked the only question he had need to have answered.
“How many days will it take for us to get to Garden City?”
“My daughter and I have been traveling for just over a week, but you are traveling without a cart. You should arrive sooner.”
Less than a week. And according to the merchant, it would take about that much longer to reach their final destination and Deevana’s new home. They could spend several days in Garden City and still be able to travel south in plenty of time.
Still, he couldn’t help worrying when his sister changed the subject each time he spoke of her upcoming wedding.
Her smile grew wider with every farm and village they passed, and three nights later, when Graylem spotted the distant but steady glow in the sky where no star had shined the night before, he couldn’t help his own spurt of excitement. Their father had told stories on wintery nights with Graylem and his sister sitting in front of the fire. He spoke of the enormous orb that had been placed on a pedestal at the top of the tallest tower of the Palace of Winds. Its light was a symbol of the purity of the virtues the Kingdom of Eden had been founded upon and was meant to guide those who were searching in the dark to the safety of the great white walls. It was the walls, the virtues, and that light that the King and his guard were sworn to uphold.