Honor, p.8
Honor, page 8
part #2 of The Avant Champion Series
“Abigail Cross, you look well.” She entered the study and the doors closed behind her.
I rose from my bow. “Thank you, mum.”
I couldn’t tell if she complimented my health or observed I was dressed appropriately, unlike the common dress I wore the day she summoned me to the deliberation room.
A fire crackled behind her. Either I stood too far away to feel the warmth or it couldn’t bypass her icy demeanor. Despite her prickliness, I knew she respected me. She knew I was an ally even if I wasn’t subservient—even if skepticism permeated my every thought about her rescue plan.
“You have coordinated the quest with the other travelers?”
“Yes, mum.”
We had a plan—a plan that seemed simplistic, but it was a plan.
“Would you care to divulge any further information about the quest?” I asked.
For instance, enlighten me on the quest behind the quest?
Her eyes snapped sharply to me, followed by a flicker around the room.
I frowned, which caused her to pucker her lips irritably as though sucking on a lemon. I looked around the room slowly. We were the only two people within its walls. Paintings and silver candleholders adorned the walls. The room had large bay doors that could be opened to the garden.
She wasn’t divulging any information, and I guessed it was be- cause she thought we were not alone. I knew the staff used tunnels and passageways within the walls to move about the castle unobtrusively. Perhaps such paths could be used for spying.
I puffed out my cheeks to suppress a sigh. I sat in the nearest chair with mild undisguised irritation. What were we supposed to talk about if not the real reason for the quest? I could transport us somewhere for a private conversation, but I would be branded a traitor for kidnapping the Queen.
She paced one side of the room slowly as she spoke. “It is the policy of Marrington Kingdom not to meddle in the affairs of the cities and cultures under our purview. The Hunju have been faced with a great deal of internal strife for many years which has escalated of late.”
“Civil war.” I knew what Windish had told me. Rogue Hunju—labeled defectors—had planned and successfully carried out a coup. The leader had been exiled south of the Hunju lands. Deep within the marsh, defectors guarded him.
She continued, “The Hunju leadership is attempting to reinstate Lord Eustace and has requested our assistance in doing so. In accordance with our historical rule, we cannot set precedence in sending a military force. You, as the Avant Champion, can offer assistance.”
Military force? Marrington didn’t have a military force. We had the Queen’s guard. Well-trained and loyal though they were, they were hardly a force to turn the tide in a war between giants.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I did not have the patience for politics. I had no idea what hidden message the Queen tried to convey.
Memories of our quest together five years ago churned in my mind, sloshing the way a pig rolls in the mud. She failed to be forthright then as well. I had to wade through her insinuations and hidden meanings. During that time, she was often exasperated with me as though she spoke clear as the Aithos River rather than in riddles.
“And what is it you would like me to accomplish?” My tone sounded more rankled than I intended.
In a soft voice brimming with melancholy, she replied, “Peace, Abigail. The Hunju deserve peace.”
9
“What does she think I am capable of accomplishing?” I blocked a blow from Baird’s stick as we sparred with long batons.
I visited the sanctuary in the afternoon to see Baird. I explained Coco’s summoning, the minister and Windish’s debate, and my meeting with the Queen.
“So, the idea is to return Lord Eustace, and peace will resume?” His voice held the same skeptical reserve I felt.
“Yes.”
Baird hadn’t answered my question, which meant it wasn’t readily obvious to him either.
We exchanged blows with the sticks again.
“Have you been there?” I asked.
Baird had traveled extensively during his extended life. His book, A Study of Culture, detailed those travels. I had only read parts of the book, so I was not certain of all the places he had visited.
“No,” he replied with a grunt as one of my swings struck a thigh. “Not for lack of trying. I was only able to go to the Hunju mixer camp on the outskirts of their civilization.”
His offense picked up pace. It always did after I managed a strike past his defenses.
I knew a little of the mixers camp from what Arturo, a mixer and prior traveling companion, told me. They were not allowed in the main city. Mixers were half-human, half-Hunju and the best of both from my experience with Arturo. He stood taller than a human reasonably could be and his dense muscles reminded me of an ox. For all his size and strength, he possessed a calm and pleasant demeanor and as much intelligence as most humans.
“The Hunju are xenophobic. Beyond the minister of foreign affairs and the Queen herself, I’m not sure many others have been allowed. Given their history it’s odd and possibly of great cultural and political meaning that they’re seeking help from humans. You could be the cata- lyst that facilitates open interaction among the species.”
I blocked his blows, aware I defensively backed up close to the river’s edge.
“I thought the purpose of Malos was to absorb evil so civil wars didn’t happen again,” I said, unable to conceal the strain in my voice.
“The Chevorik Ambria are human phenomena. They only work on humans; therefore, the evil absorbed by Malos’ stones is human evil.”
My mouth dropped. That explained why Windish had said humans were cleaning up our own mess with Malos.
Baird struck a blow to my hip. I fell to one leg and took a sharp inhalation from the pain. I swung my stick to knock him down at the ankles. He jumped over it and brought his baton down toward my skull. I wasn’t going to be fast enough to get my stick up in a defensive position.
I vanished and appeared behind him, still on one knee.
Baird’s pole struck the soft ground where I had been seconds ago. I stood as the pain in my hip throbbed. I may have been the mighty champion with the strength of a Hunju warrior—when I used the stone—but I still consisted of flesh and blood. I was as vulnerable to injury as any human and no stranger to pain. I only survived to my late twenties thanks to Joshua and his Healing Stone. He mended my many mishaps over the years.
Baird straightened and resigned his pole to his side. He had won the round, not surprising. Ever the gentleman, he didn’t gloat. Instead, he waited to see if I wanted to continue sparring.
As I had nearly had my skull cracked open, I was evidently distracted. I pulled my pole to me and bowed slightly as I stood. He bowed in response.
“What about Carrot?” he asked.
“Will you watch her for me?”
“I will, but you should consider taking her with you. She might alert you to distant danger.”
I thought about the hawk Baird had gifted me a year ago. He had been teaching me how to train her. She could hunt and made different sounds for spotting prey, alerting danger, and giving greeting. She darted small and fast yet her landings were frequently botched.
Mount Kapri, I never knew a bird could be so clumsy landing.
“You think she’s ready for that?” I asked.
“I think you should let her prove herself.”
Baird had a theory that her lack of grace in landing stemmed from a lack of confidence. It had never occurred to me an animal might be missing a trait such as confidence. Since Baird had decades at the Gunthi monk sanctuary training birds, I assumed he would understand her condition better than I.
As my lessons with her became lessons in patience, I half suspected he gave me the bird more for my own personal growth than hers.
I looked at the crisp, flowing river beckoning my perspiring body. My clothes clung to me.
“I can leave you with the river,” he offered, seeming to read my thoughts.
“No, thank you.” I was not going swimming half naked at the Gunthi monk sanctuary. It would be a violation of...something. I was certain. “I have a civil war to end.”
He gave me a curious expression before taking my stick and setting both poles near the rack of sparring weapons.
“You know where to find me should you need advice, Abigail.”
“Thank you. I would have you on this quest with me if you were not confined here,” I said. I avoided telling him Aman’s odd divination that our group was only to be four.
“That would be my preference as well, but there will be other adventures.”
I smiled, genuinely flattered someone of Baird’s stature looked forward to working together in the future. I pleasantly anticipated the prospect of interaction beyond friendly sparring. There were no greater friends I would want on a quest than Joshua and Baird, though the thought of the three of us together conjured images of them fishing while I battled forces of darkness.
Baird added, “Tell Joshua next time we fish we’ll get the salmon at the south falls.”
To my point.
I plucked a small pouch I had brought with me off the ground at the edge of our sparring square. “One more thing, Baird. Have you heard about Mama Duski?”
His expression saddened. “Yes. I received notice by bird she had passed.”
I dropped the stones she had given me into my palm. “Mama Duski gave me these some time ago. In her death, she gave me a book detailing the powers of the stones.” I pointed to the seashell-shaped stone. “This one is power over water. This purple one is power over light. The small metallic one is the gift to speak and understand other languages.”
He looked at the stones and then gave me a cautious stare.
I wondered if he considered how I had kept these to myself for so long. My intentions weren’t meant to be selfish. I felt uneasy giving a gift that also imbued responsibility. My stone and Joshua’s stone were life-altering pieces of magic. I had no desire to ignorantly dispense such a weighted gift.
“Am I to surmise you want to give me one of these stones if it chooses me?”
“Yes.”
“You may be disappointed, Abigail. I lived in those mountains for many decades, and I never once found a stone that would have me.” He didn’t move to touch any of them.
I realized he wasn’t worried about my disappointment but his own.
I pursed my lips, feeling dreaded worry I would cause him sorrow if my intended gift failed. “You’re the greatest explorer this continent has ever known. You’ve traveled beyond this continent, too. It seems the gift of language would be ideally suited to you.” Okay, so I may have rehearsed those lines in my mind a few times.
He smiled though still with a sadness about his eyes, as though preparing himself for disappointment.
As soon as his fingers grasped the small stone, it sparkled like the surface of rippling water struck by sunlight. I blinked against the bright shimmering light.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
His face lit with a genuine smile. He held the glowing stone higher and inspected it. He tossed it in the air, caught it in his palm, and closed a fist around it.
The Language Stone had found its owner.
“Thank you, Abigail.” He bowed his head.
The night before the official start to our journey, Joshua and I relaxed in our cabin by the lake, preparing for a night’s rest. Windish and Coco were in their respective cabins, presumably doing the same. Transporting the prefabricated cabins from the outer castle grounds to the lake had been quite a feat. I had to move one at a time. They fit well in the clearing Windish and I had made.
Joshua had spent the day ensuring Bellok and Trad were prepared to run the clinic.
I stretched my sore muscles. Chopping trees was a form of manual labor to which I was unaccustomed.
“Abbey, can we talk a moment about your behavior toward Windish?” Joshua asked.
I felt my jaw tense at the Hunju’s name. Joshua’s tone held excessive calm, which set my argumentative reflexes on alert.
“Talk,” I offered.
His brow furrowed.
Cute as his expression was, I had already determined this would be an unpleasant conversation.
“You are awfully antagonistic toward him, even by your standards.” He dressed the bed in clean sheets.
I felt a small swell of pride, knowing I had accomplished my goal. As Joshua’s intent was to correct my behavior and not congratulate me, I tried to suppress the satisfaction within my expression.
I replied, “He’s a foul creature who attacked me on my wedding day.”
Windish had been trying to make a name for himself as a fierce warrior. He thought slaying the Avant Champion would accomplish his goal. I now wondered if he had succeeded, would he have used his notoriety to challenge Eustace? Perhaps not. I thought it unlikely he would be leading a rescue if he had ever planned his own coup.
I arched backward in a stretch Baird had taught me.
Joshua countered, “And he has shown remorse for his actions.”
I harrumphed. Windish had apologized for his actions and bowed to the Queen that day, but I hadn’t seen him since then. Humility in the face of defeat was not the equivalent of genuine remorse.
Joshua continued, “I think with his lands in turmoil and his leader captive, we might build bridges with a little compassion.”
I brought a cabin for him. Isn’t that enough compassion?
My arms, already taxed from chopping and arranging wood, shook with the weight of my body on them.
“I’ve seen your compassion with the Caballus and the gypsies, so I know it’s in you.”
“Yes, for good people I have compassion,” I said, straining. “Windish is not a good creature.” Blood rushed to my head.
Joshua laid two pillows on the bed. “Because he’s not human?”
His insinuation of my discrimination stung. He knew I liked Arturo, the half-Hunju, half-human mixer who had helped take us by ship to Mulan. I also befriended Andi—a talking sea serpent.
“His character offends me, not his species,” I said with enough ice in my voice to make Joshua reminisce about climbing Mount Kapri.
He pursed his lips, but continued, “Are you so infallible, you never misjudge character?”
I fell out of my backward stretch and crumpled to the floor, my concentration irrevocably shattered. Blood eased from my head back into circulation in the rest of my body.
“Inok. You’re referring to Inok.” My face flushed with anger.
Inok had been one of our traveling companions on the quest to raise the Avant Champion. He was the only one who had not survived. He had sacrificed his life for mine.
When he first joined our group, his behavior toward me had been laced with loathing. I understood later he was jealous of my station and angry with himself. His lack of faith in my ability to achieve my objective seemed to put him in a hateful mood, which he had projected onto me.
I gritted my teeth. “We reconciled our differences.”
We had sparred with sticks in the pouring rain. Inok had seen my resolve on that day, and I had seen his insecurity.
In a gentle voice, Joshua asked, “Are your differences with Windish irreconcilable?”
I stood and turned down the corner of the bedcover. “Should his actions demonstrate he is something other than a fiendish brute, I will take your counsel for reconciliation under advisement.” My words were cold, colder than they should have been when Joshua’s intentions were only to facilitate mending a relationship. But I would not have him compare someone as noble and selfless as Inok to a barbaric Hunju whom I didn’t trust any farther than I could throw him—with or without the Warrior Stone.
As I climbed in bed, I noticed Joshua’s shoulders sag. I had hurt his feelings. When mine felt less bruised, I would figure out how to fix his. For now, the hour grew late, and we had a long day of arduous travel ahead of us.
I felt Joshua climb in beside me, but our bodies didn’t touch as I drifted to sleep.
I slept uneasily, dreaming I hiked in the marsh. I would wake tossing and trying to shake off the images of being attacked by Hunju.
They bore down on us, and we were stuck in the mud, writhing like impotent worms.
When slumber finally fully embraced me, I found myself back on the emerald shores of Misty Isle. A gentle breeze blew. I stood again wearing full battle gear.
Malos sat on the beach exactly where I had last left him. He wore the same black suit and had light stubble around his jaw and chin.
“What do you want now?” I asked. He looked up at me.
His dark eyes wandered up my boots, along my sword, across my breastplate, and up to the Warrior Stone until at last his eyes met mine.
“You look like you’re ready for a fight,” he commented.
“Around you? Always.” I rested one hand on the hilt of my sword.
One corner of his mouth quirked. “You can’t hurt me, remember? Nor I, you.”
After a moment, I sighed. I mentally changed my outfit to leggings and a tunic—something in which I could sit down comfortably. I eased into the sand a few feet away from him. I had finished a fight with Joshua; I wasn’t looking for another one.
His bottom lip protruded in a slight pout. “Next time you should change the normal way.”
My jaw dropped. Was he telling me he wanted to see me without clothing? I shook my head. No, I must have misunderstood.
“Or I could suggest more appropriate beach clothing.”
I scowled at him. “It’s not hot. It’s a dream.”
“It could be a fantasy,” he suggested, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
I felt too disconcerted by his flirtatious behavior to be angered by it. He was so vastly different from the creature I knew previously. The creature I destroyed.
“As I already asked, why am I here?”
He shrugged. “This is your dream, Abigail. I am not an intruder. I have no power here or anywhere...yet. I’m here because you want me here.”
