Page 16 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame (Fated for Hael #1)

Cahra brightened, squinting at the woman’s knives; longer than a quillon dagger, judging from the length, and fashioned a bit like a rapier. Light and lean for speed, no doubt. Plus, Cahra always respected women with upper arms to rival her own.

She wondered if Siarl would let her look at those daggers. Maybe they forged things differently in Luminaux? It’d be great to learn a few more smithing tricks.

Assuming there’s a future for you in it. The thought hung heavy in Cahra’s mind.

Finally, Terryl gestured to the brawny man with hair and skin as pale as winter snow, whose physique towered above the others as the man good-naturedly twirled a great-hammer.

‘Piet is our wall,’ Terryl explained to her.

‘Fighting him is like striving to topple a mountain.’ The lord laughed heartily.

‘Don’t let his brawn fool you, though. Piet is a gentle soul at heart, and there is not a single person in Luminaux that he would not defend with his life.

He and the others have proven invaluable on our travels. ’

‘Is everyone here a fighter?’ Cahra arched a brow.

Terryl chuckled. ‘No.’ He drew her attention to a woman, older than herself. ‘Langera, from our Kolyath residence, is behind the culinary delights that you see here.’

Cahra rushed to ask, ‘She’s from Kolyath?’

‘Ah,’ Terryl said sadly, understanding. ‘I am afraid not. She accompanied us when we set out from Luminaux.’

She ignored the pang of loneliness that followed, guessing she’d better get used to it. ‘And you? What talents are you master of, exactly?’

Terryl seemed caught off guard. ‘Well,’ he said, thinking.

Moments passed. ‘Nothing?’ Cahra laughed, enjoying the sight of him flustered.

‘Now, now,’ he tutted gently. ‘If I must, I would say that my talent is people. While I know my way around a sword, I prefer not to need one.’

‘Oh, so I shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble then?’ Cahra joked.

Running a hand through his perfect hair, Terryl’s laughter was a warm, melodious sound that echoed merrily through the trees. ‘I thank you, and I am very pleased that you did craft mine. I believe my talent is connecting with people. My f—’ He stopped abruptly.

They sat in the Wilds’ simmering silence. Should she ask?

‘What is it?’

He hesitated. ‘I was going to say, it is something that my family, my parents, seem to have trouble with. Myself, not so much,’ Terryl admitted.

Cahra blinked, eyes wide. It was like the man had just shared something with her that he might have preferred not to. So she gifted him her next words.

‘I never knew my family,’ she said, watching Terryl’s people make light-hearted banter. There was a community to them, she thought. They’d faced danger as a group. ‘Lumsden was the closest I had to any of it.’ Cahra popped the last piece of bread into her mouth.

Terryl studied her. ‘I was not aware.’

She sipped her water and shrugged. ‘Why would you be?’

He was silent for a moment. ‘You said that you knew little of the capital and its prophecy. Would you like to learn more?’

Cahra nodded, grateful for the reprieve. Terryl really did have a knack with people.

The Wilds were still as Terryl began, the hush comforting despite the darkness.

‘Hael’stromia,’ he started, his voice barely above a whisper in the quiet, ‘isn’t simply the city at the centre of the kingdoms of Kolyath, Luminaux and Ozumbre.

Four hundred years ago, our realm’s capital housed great Oracles blessed with the magick of foresight and the ability to thwart any faction who endangered peace across the lands with their ultimate weapon.

When Hael’stromia fell and the Seers, blamed for its loss, were run from the capital, such divination was forbidden in the kingdom of Kolyath, with Ozumbre joining them in solidarity.

But before the Seers disappeared, they beheld a vision: the realm’s prophecy, as related to its chief weapon.

’ He paused in his story. ‘You really do not know of the three omens?’

‘No,’ Cahra said. ‘I’m not high-born enough to know much of this.’

The lord’s face darkened. ‘Another example of Atriposte strong-arming power by withholding information.’

Cahra wasn’t surprised at Terryl’s disdain. After all, he did come from a rival kingdom. ‘Is the King of Luminaux any different?’

The sour expression left his face, blue goldstone eyes shimmering.

‘You will find that there is much that is different, indeed.’ He continued, ‘Unfortunately, one topic all three sister kingdoms agree on is the war to control Hael’stromia.

Kolyath and Ozumbre desire it, and do not wish Luminaux to have it. It has been this way for centuries.’

She mulled over Terryl’s words, her thoughts churning. She’d never experienced war, outside of Kolyath’s harsh austerity. The closest she could imagine was the Red Square in the aftermath of the kingdom’s torture or executions, the cobbles stained blood-red.

She traced a pattern on the log she was sitting on and said, ‘But Hael’stromia has been abandoned for ages. If the capital is in such a woeful state, then why does every kingdom want it?’

‘They covet Hael’stromia’s fabled ultimate weapon.’

‘I’m aware,’ Cahra muttered. It was the only thing Kolyath’s Steward cared about.

‘Well, once in control of the weapon, a kingdom could lay claim to the empire’s old seat of power and rule over the other kingdoms, their lands and resources,’ Terryl explained. ‘Of course, to do so, their possession of the weapon is required. That is where the prophecy and its three omens come in:

‘For when the Seers reappear,

When the Key has been bestowed,

When the mark walks the path to enter the Nether in

life,

Then shall Hael rise again.’

‘That’s the prophecy? Well, that’s vague,’ Cahra said flatly.

‘Perhaps. The first line, the first omen, is what Jarett seized upon.’

‘You said the first line after I found you,’ she remembered.

Terryl nodded. ‘I know it all by heart.’

‘But why?’ She frowned.

He rubbed his temples, saying, ‘This morning, you told me that there were things that I did not know about you. I have revealed the same.’ He studied her. ‘Have I your trust?’

Cahra deliberated. Her instincts told her yes, but she’d been thrust into the unknown.

‘It’s not that I don’t trust you. I’ve just known you for such a short time, by my standards.

This morning, I was excited for you to collect your sword.

Since then, I’ve fled my kingdom, I currently have no idea where I am, and my future is in the hands of a foreign lord and his, what, private army?

And I have no idea what’ll happen to me once we reach Luminaux…

’ She broke off, her voice quavering on the last point.

Terryl was aghast. He’d clearly not realised any of what she’d been thinking. ‘Cahra, you are safe . I know that may seem hard to comprehend, given what we have been through, but you have my word. No harm will come to you, not from myself or anyone in Luminaux.’

‘You swear it?’ She couldn’t stand how fearful she sounded.

His eyes grew wide. ‘On my honour! I believe you when you say that none of what has befallen you and I was intentional. As does Raiden,’ Terryl said, before she could argue.

‘If my longsword truly does herald the first omen, then you are the catalyst for the prophecy’s first development in centuries.

Surely, you know what that means?’ His expression softened.

‘My kingdom will be delighted to host you.’

She breathed out, feeling the tension in her neck and shoulders ease. ‘If you say so.’

‘Oh, I do.’ His voice brimmed with playful assurance. ‘In fact, I believe there is much that you might like in Luminaux.’

‘Really?’ Cahra asked, her doubt caving to his enthusiasm. ‘Like what?’

Terryl looked thoughtful. ‘Well,’ he began, gesturing around them, ‘you seem to like the greenery of the Wilds, thus far. Luminaux rests at the foot of mountainous meadows, and the kingdom’s parks are just as lovely, if not perhaps more charmingly cultivated.’

Cahra paused, not wanting to look foolish. Then she asked, ‘Erm, what’s a park?’

Terryl’s eyebrows shot up, then he nodded, comprehending.

‘Of course. Kolyath’s primary green space was the Steward’s grounds.

’ His face tensed at the mention of the ruler.

‘A park is a large, public garden where anyone can walk or sit. Luminaux’s parks are tranquil, and often contain statues or fountains,’ he explained.

‘Right,’ she said slowly, unable to picture anything but Kolyath’s weedy flowers.

Terryl was watching her intently, fingers tapping the clean line of his jaw as he searched for something else to snare her interest. ‘Ah!’ he exclaimed.

‘There is a tavern in the Artisanal Emporium, our sister to your Traders’ Quadrant, serving rich, robust cuisine that will astonish your tastebuds: fowl that is pan-cooked then stewed in wine, accompanied by onion and mushrooms. There are sweets like meringue with a crisp, sugary texture that melts on your tongue – and pastries, so many pastries, with creams, nuts, even honeyed cacao. Such decadent confections!’

Cahra’s mouth watered. Mock-reluctantly, she murmured, ‘Go on.’

Terryl beamed, her words emboldening him as he proceeded with great enthusiasm, and for the first time, Cahra noticed the near-invisible dimples indenting his flushed cheeks. ‘Another highlight that we have in common is Luminaux’s own master blacksmith…’

It was then that she stopped hearing him, Terryl’s words about smithing fading to a hum as her mind returned to Kolyath – to Lumsden – and the only person who’d ever made her feel cared for, like a parent.

Terryl was lucky. He was going home to his family, Cahra thought, a harsh lump rising in her throat.

She was arriving in Luminaux to nothing and no one, a Kolyath outcast.

‘Cahra?’ Terryl’s voice pulled her back to the present.

She forced an apologetic look. ‘I think I’m getting tired,’ she said, then glanced away.

His suggestions for where to go were nice, but she knew she’d be exploring them by herself.

‘I guess I could go adventuring – once we arrive, and you go back to your old life, that is.’ She toyed with a stick, poking a mound of dirt and ignoring the growing pressure in her chest.

Terryl’s voice was soft and clear as he said, ‘Perhaps I could offer you a guided tour of the kingdom? If you desired it,’ he added, a hopeful look crossing his face.

‘What would Raiden say? A lord keeping company with a low-born smith?’ She found herself unable to look away as she awaited his response.

At this, Terryl beheld her, his gaze tender and sincere. ‘A title does not matter, Cahra. It is the mind, the heart behind it, that is of import.’

For a moment, Cahra forgot how to breathe. Then she nodded. ‘Okay. I’d like that.’

The sudden intensity of their conversation left her with the abrupt urge to move, so she stood, stretching her arms above her head, the movement forcing several slow, deep breaths.

The Wilds were different from before, she realised.

Brighter, finer slants of light rent the woods, sporadically criss-crossing to fling large, jagged shapes onto the mossy carpet.

It was like a god had shattered a glass sky.

‘So… How long are we stopping for?’

‘We need to rest, however briefly. It will make the remainder of the journey less taxing.’

‘Oh?’ She noted the caution in his voice.

‘We are not yet out of danger,’ Terryl said slowly.

‘The Wilds are not Kolyath, that much is true. Yet threats outside the sister kingdoms do exist, and laws do not. The Wilds can be a desperate place for some.’ She must have looked worried, for the lord’s next words were, ‘I do not wish to alarm you unduly, and we are taking the safest route between the kingdoms. I simply wish to be candid with you about the circumstances we now find ourselves in.’

Cahra nudged a small stone with her boot. She was with Terryl and seasoned fighters. There was nothing to fear, nothing more than normal.

She kicked the stone into the glade, turning to Terryl. ‘What about the Wildspeople? They saved us from Kolyath.’

At this, he shook his head. ‘That was their choice. I do not feel comfortable asking the people of the Wilds to support a fight not theirs, not against trained soldiers in deadly warfare. It would not be ethical to ask them to risk their lives.’

It was the right answer, one she never would have heard from a Kolyath high-born. Admiration kindled, flaring in her chest.

She finished the last of her pastry, crumbs tumbling to her lap, then realised she hadn’t seen him eat. ‘Terryl, aren’t you hungry?’ She thrust her apple into his palm. ‘Seers, take it! I’m not the only one who has sprinted for miles.’

‘Perhaps I am,’ he admitted. ‘Though I have been sitting, doing little in my carriage. Everyone else…’ He gestured to his people.

There was something about the way he said the words, the fondness he conveyed, the respect for the company he kept, that made Cahra feel warm, if only for a few brief moments.

Finally, Raiden signalled to Terryl. ‘Excuse me.’ The lord smiled. ‘Do enjoy the interlude. Traversing the Wilds can be arduous, so I advise relaxing while you can.’

As Terryl moved away, Raiden strode briskly to join him.

The woods stirred, a rise of rustling leaves whispering secrets to the wind, as they were followed by Piet, towering over everything and lumbering to them with a grin.

Siarl, her braids shimmering in the low light, and Queran, silent as a spectre, arrived together.

Raiden spoke a few words then slipped away, disappearing fast behind the treeline.

Cahra smirked. She supposed even the likes of Raiden had to answer nature’s call. Shaking her empty cup, she looked for Langera to ask about more water.