Heartless

His horse quivered beneath him, and the captain looked up and gazed once more at the Red Desert stretching on to the farthest horizon. His heart quailed at the sight. He closed his eyes and would not look again at the stranger. “You ask too much,” he growled and turned his horse sharply away. “Come, men,” he ordered and started back at a canter the way they had come.

The wood was gone. The bleak countryside of the Hinterlands stretched out before them, and beyond that the Chiara Bay, dividing them from Southlands and home. The captain looked back once over his shoulder, saw the stranger watching them. Then Aethelbald turned and strode into the desert, where he vanished.

The captain faced forward again, cursing viciously under his breath. “Let the fool kill himself. Why should we die for him and his confounded treasure? Dragons and dragon fire, a man can only stand so much!”





30

The sound of running water sang sweet music in her ears. She opened her eyes. Leaves, golden against blue sky, arched high above her. Wooden slats pressed into her back and her head. Her hand felt around and found the edge of the boards. Turning her head, she looked around. Trees, their graceful branches swaying in a gentle breeze, filled her gaze. She lay on the Old Bridge in her dear Goldstone Wood.

I’m dreaming.

She did not care.

Carefully, so as not to wake herself, she sat up. Her chest expanded to take in a great gulp of light, clean air. She was Una, Princess of Parumvir. This was her home.

With a laugh that filled her whole body with feathery lightness, she jumped from the bridge and splashed into the water, soaking her skirt up to the knees. It was cold, bitingly cold, and delicious to feel. She spun around, searching the trees. Sunlight gleamed through branches, spattering the ground with touches of gold. Beyond the light, shadows thickened. “Where are you?” she whispered.

He would come any moment. It was her dream, after all. He would come to her here.

The brook trickled between her wet feet, and the tree branches crackled together in a breeze.

No one came.

“Where are you?” she said, louder this time. She climbed back onto the Old Bridge, water dripping from her, and shivered a little in the cool air.

No one answered.

The sun began to sink behind the trees, and still she waited. Golden light disappeared, and the gray of dusk settled around her, yet no one came. She sat on the bridge, holding her knees, and whispered to herself:

“Twilit dimness surrounds me.



The veil slips over my eyes.



The riddle of us two together long ago,



How fragile in my memory lies!”



A silvery voice sang above her head. Raising her chin, she searched the branches for the wood thrush. The notes spilled into the evening.

“Beyond the final water falling,



The Songs of Spheres recalling.



We who were never bound are swiftly torn apart.



Won’t you return to me?”



She bowed her head, pressing it into her knees. “Where are you?” she whispered.

Where are you?

“I’m here. I’m waiting for you still. I promised I would. Won’t you come find me?”

I am coming. Wait for me.

“Oh, Leonard!” Were tears actually in her eyes, or did she dream those too? “Leonard, I am waiting. I’m still waiting!”

No. Wait for me. I will find you.



Something rustled in the brush behind her.



I will find you.



She turned sharply.



“Leonard!”



The trees vanished, as did the stream.

A pale, sunken face with yellow eyes peered down at her from over her sheltering boulder.

“There you are, sister. I found you.”

–––––––

A fortress hidden within the rugged crags of the Northern Mountains stood dark in the night, only a few windows lit by candles. One path led through the treacherous reaches of the mountains to the fortress’s gate, which remained tightly shut. Standing guard upon the wall above the gate were two knights, one with skin like midnight, whose eyes gleamed brighter than candles in that darkness; the other with hair like fire and green jewel eyes, who could not seem to help smiling even as the night wore on in undisturbed silence.

At last his black-skinned companion asked, “Why do you grin so, Rogan? What can you find so amusing on such a windless, cold night?”

The green-eyed one smiled all the more. “We shall have action before dawn, Imoo! After all these weeks standing watch in this remote piece of nowhere, we shall see battle once more!”

“What makes you think that?”

“I smell it, my friend!” Rogan touched the weapon at his side. “Can you not?”

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