Stars' Light, page 9
“My lord, you have a guest waiting for you in the sun room.” Miranda tilted her head when she spoke.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lear.”
“You have a guest? At this time in the morning?” Halt shook his head. “Something you should know, and the real reason that I came, is my son, Aiden, is working with the Shadow Imperium. Micheil uncovered it a short time ago. With Aleksander coming to me with this, it has become apparent this is a real problem, and not some secret society that has delusions of world conquest. I want you to hunt them down. Destroy them, so I do not have to remove my son.” Halt stood. “I cannot allow this group to have any control over the throne and the Ten-Thousand Nations. The empire must come first.”
“You cannot really want me to kill your son?”
“Imagine what would happen if a rogue force were to take control of the throne. How many would be affected? I cannot allow that to happen. I took an oath to uphold and to protect the empire, and I will at all costs.”
“I will do my best, so it does not come to that, my friend.” Jorian also stood, and placed his hands on Halt’s shoulders. “And, there are other options. You know what I am speaking of.” Jorian whispered the last.
“I do, indeed. Now, you have a guest you must attend to.” He turned towards the door, where Analia was waiting.
“I apologize for being rude and not seeing you out. This guest is important to both our lives.” Jorian was sliding past him towards a back hallway. He turned, glancing at his wife.
“Please come this way, your majesties.” Analia was very polite and soft as she ushered the Imperial family from her home.
Sarannya sat expectantly in a room that appeared to be very old. The furniture was old and worn, but well cared for. The wood floor was scratched and well used. It was almost dull with the all the scratches and use. The desk was a rich red finish. It was a wood she had never seen before. She noticed there was an empty sword stand, much like the one in her father’s study.
All of the walls were covered with bookshelves that were also filled with books. The room had an old library smell. She loved it. She shifted in her seat and pulled her cloak off, resting it on the back of her chair. It was her new cloak that had been given to her by Lord Bral and Lady Alena Tal last night. It was thick, well constructed, and quite warm, which she learned about on the walk up the hill. It was a rich red, which she had only seen carried in the most expensive shops, and it was much like the red cloak the girl had worn in her dream.
She smiled to herself, brushing her new heart stone pendant. It appeared to be very old, and was mounted on a platinum chain. It was absolutely stunning. It’s smoky color amplified her gray eyes. She might even be as pretty as Kristina, she mused and then smiled to herself. Well, maybe not that pretty, but close.
Her smile dropped from her face, realizing that Lord Bral, the General, was standing behind his desk, staring at her. He bore that same sad look from the night before. She immediately stood and curtsied, bowing her head, not making eye contact. Her heart was racing.
Jorian stood for a moment, captured by the grey heart stone; a gift he once gave his greatest student. “Please, sit down. No need for formalities. You can relax here.” He sat and his tone was soft. Analia must have given that to her, and the cloak. Damn that woman.
Sarannya could again see the smile on his face, but it did not hide the sadness in his eyes, but there was something else there as well.
“Where did you get that heart stone?” He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands before him.
“It was a gift from your wife.” She covered it with her hand, feeling very self-conscious about it.
“No need to cover it. You should wear it with pride. It is very old and has been in the Tal family a long time. It looks very good on you. It brings the grey out in your eyes.” He paused for moment, remembering back to his own daughters. He smiled genuinely and warmly at her. “It enhances the beauty that is already there.”
“Thank you, General.” She whispered, letting her hands fall into her lap. She was so nervous and did not want to meet his eyes. They were so green and seemed to look right into you.
“Does your cloak fit?” Sarannya looked up at him, and he was struck by her spirit. There was strength there, but it was hidden by her self-doubts. There was passion, but he could see that it had almost been trained out of her.
“It fits perfectly. Thank you very much. I absolutely love it.” She beamed at him. She paused, trying to gather her confidence.
“You are very welcome.” He said, but he could tell she was working herself up ask him the question he knew was coming, but she was trying to be polite.
“I am wondering…”
“No need to speak formally. You can be casual here.”
“I’m wondering why you wanted to see me? Is it about the sword?” Sarannya stared back at him, remembering the light and the amazing feeling of holding Shadow. She was hesitant in asking.
“It is.” Jorian paused. “You had a moment, did you not? You saw the runes on the blade, didn’t you?”
Sarannya nodded her head, too scared to respond.
“It showed you a vision last night, didn’t it?” He half smiled at her when she nodded yes. “What did it show you?” He leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk.
Sarannya hesitated. She did not really want to tell him about her dream. She fidgeted in her chair for a moment, until a soft hand touched her shoulder. She looked up to see the lady Alena Tal smiling down at her.
Analia held out a cup of hot coffee to Sarannya, who took it. Analia nodded, and Miranda entered with a small bowl of sugar and a creamer cup. “Please take what you need,” Analia said, walking around to take a seat beside her husband. “It’s okay to talk about it, and you should talk about it. The dreams are going to keep coming until you learn how to deal with them. It helps to get them out as the dreams become more and more vivid.” Analia commented.
Sarannya nodded her head, mixing the last of her sugar and cream into her coffee. She had not had a lot of coffee, but it was starting to grow on her. She took a sip thinking about the dream and what all of this could mean. She began from the beginning, recounting the whole dream, leaving nothing out. “And then you walked past me, but you stopped and looked right at me as if you could see me. You smiled, and then walked outside to where the dragons were landing.
“I followed you outside, and there was a dragon, his scales were a brilliant gold. He also seemed to notice me, and the woman who wore a red cloak almost exactly like mine spoke directly to me. She told me ‘we had a city to conquer and an empire to build.’ It appeared as if she was speaking to me, but I’m fairly sure that she was speaking to the dragon.” Sarannya took another sip of her coffee.
Jorian and Analia sat through the whole recounting in silence. Jorian did not know exactly what to say. It was obvious that Zorian favored the girl, but why show her the end of the Tracian Knights. Even though the battle had been a success, and they had been able to oust the church from its position of power, the wars had brought about a Darkening much earlier than anticipated. With the loss of so many knights, and the forges going quiet, it had been almost impossible to rebuild the knighthood.
Analia touched his arm. He came back to the present. Sarannya was clearly waiting for him to respond. “You dreamt of Zorian Mirogen. She was a great warrior from a very long time ago.”
“I was very surprised to see so many women who were warriors and carried swords that looked like Shadow. They looked like War Blades!” Sarannya said.
“All of those weapons you saw were War Blades, and in those days, there were many women who were warriors. That was not an uncommon thing, then.” Jorian took a deep breath. “I want you to train with me. I want you to learn the way of the sword; the way of the warrior.” He held his hand up to stop her from answering right away, watching her sit up in her chair, eyes going wide.
“This will not be an easy thing. The training will be hard, and require you to look deeply inside yourself and to learn about yourself. There will be a lot of introspective study. Also, you will be an outcast in this society. It will make it very difficult for you to have a regular life. You should think about this before you answer.” Jorian could see the excitement and energy moving in her body.
“What regular life? Marrying a man I hardly know for the political gain of my family? I would prefer to not have a life like that. I have seen and read about what type of life that is. You are giving me a chance at a life that is not beholden to anyone other than myself.” Sarannya leaned forward in her chair, her eyes alight with passion.
“That isn’t true. You will be beholden to those that you serve and protect. You will be beholden to me and the Ten-Thousand Nations. I’m offering you the hard way. The easy way is to go and be married to whom your parents have betrothed you to. Have children and grow old in peace. That is the easy way. Being a warrior is the hard way.”
Sarannya was struck speechless. A fear settled in her, and she could not look away from the General’s green eyes. They captured her, and his words attacked her, scaring her as she saw a life of pain with the sword versus that of leisure by not taking the sword. She inhaled sharply.
“Jorian!” Analia hissed.
“She needs to know. She needs to see what it will really be like.” Jorian continued his connection to Sarannya.
“That is enough!” Her voice lashed out, breaking Jorian’s connection. Sarannya slumped back into her chair.
Jorian sat back in his chair, watching Sarannya.
“My brother moved physical objects by his will alone. You can do this to a person’s emotions; you can put images into their minds?” Sarannya looked back at him with awe and wonder in her eyes, and only a hint of fear.
Jorian smiled at her. Damn. She has fire. “I can.”
“And you can teach this to me? I can learn this?”
“You can. But it will not be easy.” He spoke softly.
“I accept your offer.”
“You should speak with your family, first.”
“No. The decision is mine.” Her voice was strong with conviction.
Jorian handed her a card with the name of a tailor that was down in the city. “Go to him and give him this card. He will know what to do.”
Sarannya took if from his hand and stood. “Yes…master?” Her voice stuttered with her frown. “What should I call you? Is there a title?”
“General will be fine.” Jorian replied.
“Of course, General.” She bowed her head, looking down at the card. There was an underlying nervousness to her excitement. How was she going to explain this to her parents? What would they say?
She was led out by Miranda, and made her way back to the Tatara manor. She gave instructions to get her carriage ready.
CHAPTER NINE
Sarannya arrived home to find most her family still sleeping. It was still very early in the morning. She ordered breakfast from Olivia, who informed her that her father was up and working in his study. She moved quietly through the hallways, stopping to knock softly when she reached his study door. She heard the shuffle of papers, and then muffled footsteps.
“Dove!” He opened the door to allow her to enter. “Please, come in. You are up early?” He gave her a sideways glance and started to arrange his papers again.
“Yeah, I’m…I mean yes, I am up early. I had a meeting with Lord Bral this morning.” She frowned, switching from informal to formal language.
Her father stopped and looked directly at her. “And, what did you decide?”
Sarannya paused for a moment. “You knew about this? You knew he was going to ask me to train with him?”
“He spoke with your mother and I before he left last night. He knew that it would change not only your life, but the lives of all those around you. So, I am assuming, you agreed.” He was stating a fact more than a question, and he was keeping his face as neutral as possible.
“Papa, you know that I have always loved the sword. I have always wanted to learn to be a warrior. I know that you knew I was sneaking out to watch the soldiers train, and it was not to look at the boys.” She laughed a bit, looking up at her father through her eye lashes. “I mean…it was okay looking at the boys.”
“They are much too old for you. And yes, I knew.” He hugged her close. “Your mother and I will always support you. This will always be your home, no matter where you find yourself.” He released her. “Let us have breakfast.” There was a bit of sadness to his voice, but he knew this had always been her dream.
The carriage ride went by quicker than normal. Sarannya could not quite keep the images out of her head of dying soldiers in battle. Their screams, the blood, and the moans. She tried to think about being able to do things that others could not. She had the opportunity to be like the warriors of legend. To be a woman and to wear armor, carry a sword, and even ride horses; all things that she had only dreamt about, and now it was becoming a reality.
She glanced out the window and watched the houses and shops go by. People were out cleaning their store fronts for another day of business. Women were moving about the stalls, buying produce and ingredients for the day’s meals. Men rode past on horses, and those that carried swords were given preference in all things. To be a warrior, was the highest social class; it was equal in stance with nobility. To be a warrior and noble was the highest class of them all, and she was going to be both.
The carriage stopped. “We have arrived, my lady. Would you like me to escort you?” Her door opened and Acilius placed the steps down for her to exit.
“No, thank you, Acilius. I think I will be just fine. Please wait here. I may be some time, though.”
“As you wish, my lady.” He bowed low, removing his wide brimmed hat. He had darker skin and a rough shaven face. His people had come from across the Menza Straight and were one of the last empires to be conquered by the Ten-Thousand Nations. He always appeared to be aware of everything around him at all times.
She smiled at him and moved up the walkway to the front door, which bore a simple sign with only a needle and thread. There was no name and no other indication that this was a tailor’s shop. She opened the door and entered. Glancing around, she saw dress trees holding dresses, men’s suits, and hat trees full of hats. The shop had a wonderful smell of new fabric. It was well lit by casted light, much like at her home. She frowned. The wood paneling was carved and looked old and very expensive. This was not your ordinary tailor shop. It was clearly a shop frequented by the very rich. Why would this shop be here? There are not enough wealthy people to support this shop in the Protectorate, she thought to herself, turning to see an elderly man appear from the back.
“How can I help you, Lady Tatara?” The older man asked. He had salt and pepper hair and reading glasses perched on his nose as he stepped out from a door that looked very much like a simple wood panel. He was wiping his hands and had an air of royalty about him.
“I was sent here.” She stepped forward to hand him Lord Bral’s card. “I was told that you would know what to do.”
Emmerich Sveinn looked at the card and then back at Sarannya, noting her red cloak. The very red cloak he had made. The last time his family had made clothes for a woman who was also going to carry a sword, was Ilenka Perako Mirogen, who married Aeneas Summanus Tatara.
He took a deep breath. His family still had the last card that was given. It was considered a relic. He looked back up at the youngest of the Tataras and smiled. “I know exactly what to do.”
“She’s going to need a horse.” Analia commented.
“I know, but she needs to learn how to ride one first.” He frowned. There was so much to do, and not enough time to do it in. Why does it always work like this? “I’ll take her to the stables and have her choose a real horse. One of the foals she can bond and grow with.”
Analia was silent for a moment, just watching him. She could see he was in his ‘general’ mode. He was making plans and arranging how things were going to work. “You know that it won’t be like what you are envisioning, right?”
“Yes, I know.” He turned to her, his thoughts broken. “What? What are you thinking.” He could see the sly smile on her face.
“I’m not thinking anything. You seem to be taking to this very quickly after your resistance for so long. I’m just curious, that is all,” she said, smiling the whole time.
Jorian let go of her hand and moved forward a bit. “I don’t know what it is with this girl. There is just something that strikes me about her.”
“You like her spirit. It reminds you of our daughters; all of them, even those not of our blood.”
“She does have a strong spirit, but I fear that a lot of it has been trained out of her.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Then you’ll train it back into her. But once you get her going, you understand there may be no stopping her. I know that you are worried this girl could end up like Ilenka, but you don’t know what would have happened with Ilenka if you would have trained her.”
Jorian frowned, a shadow falling over his face. “If it had not been for Aeneas, Ilenka would have been a much different story. I don’t want that for anyone. I actually hunted them down. Eria…” Jorian trailed off, having whispered the last.
“You saw Sarannya’s face when you handed her Shadow. It reminded me of…” Analia moved forward with the conversation, hoping that Jorian would not dwell too much on the past.
“Nikolina.” Jorian whispered. Then he laughed, the dark shadow of what he was talking about passing. “I couldn’t keep that damn girl away from swords. We had to set her up with boys because all she wanted to do was train. I remember punishing her by not allowing her to train.”
Analia laughed. “She cried and cried when you took away her swords. As if the whole world were ending, and it was only for a week.”
“I know. The end of the world.” He smiled. “We’ve had good lives, you and I. A lot of good memories.” A brief flash of movement caught his eyes. He looked up, seeing Zeus, his Mircut eagle. He whistled and Zeus landed near him, tall enough to almost look him in the eye. The giant eagles were mythical birds from the days of the Immortals. Jorian bent down to pet the feathers on top of Zeus’s head. He was completely black but every feather had a gold tip. The Mircut Eagles were extremely smart and loyal. Their lives were counted in centuries, since there were no known predators. He took the small note from the leg sheaf. He untied the ribbon and read the note.
