Age of Myth (The Legends of the First Empire #1)

Raithe’s heart sank, and he sucked a breath in through his teeth. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Persephone’s eyes weren’t so bright now, and Raithe shifted his focus to the grass at their feet. He felt a burning desire to be anywhere else than where he was. His face was hot, and he felt a prickly heat where leather covered skin. He took a couple of steps away.

“Wait.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I’m flattered. I am, but…don’t you think I’m a little old for you?”

“Obviously not or I wouldn’t have asked.” He didn’t like the sound of his voice. It came out with a bite. That wasn’t the way he wanted to leave things, but—

I should get away before I say something to make this worse.

Instead, he blurted out, “Is it because of Nyphron?”

Persephone looked puzzled. “Nyphron? Why are you bringing him up?”

“He’s interested in you, right?”

“Interested in me? A Rhune?” She looked at him, amazed.

“When he saw you at the gate, he lost concentration. Nearly got him killed. I guess I could see how you might—”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”

“There are lots of stories where gods become infatuated with mortal women.”

Looking over her shoulder, she smirked. “They’re not gods, remember? Besides, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. If anyone is likely to catch one of their eyes, it will be Moya.” She put a worried hand to her brow and sighed. “Now that I think about it, I ought to talk to her about staying away from them.”

Raithe drew away again.

“Raithe.” She stepped forward, her face pained. “My husband was killed less than a month ago. We were married for twenty years. I loved him. I still love him. Can you understand?”

In his head, he told her she wasn’t helping. He wanted to explain that loyalty and devotion were virtues he rarely found, and he wanted to be as fortunate as Reglan had been. In his head, he also apologized for intruding on her grief and for presuming someone like him had a chance with someone like her. He was Dureyan, after all. He imagined telling her all these things, but when he finally opened his mouth, all he said was, “Okay.”

The word hung there, heavy and sad. Perhaps she didn’t want that to be the last word between them because she spoke again. “You’re wrong about me not having a family. Padera is like a mother to me, the way she has been to everyone since her children died. Brin is like my daughter or at least a niece because I consider Sarah my sister. Moya is like a troublesome but irresistible cousin, and Gifford…” She reached up and wiped her eyes. “You see? I do have a family, and they’re in trouble, serious trouble. I can’t leave. I’ll be able to convince Konniger of my innocence. I’ve known him for years.”

She performed a more thorough wiping of her face, then stepped forward and hugged him tightly. “I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me and everyone here. You saved my life more than once. I wish you would stay. You don’t have to be the keenig if you don’t want. You can still help. You’ve already helped so much just by being here. And maybe…maybe you could build a happy life in Dahl Rhen. What do you say?”

She released him and stepped back, hands clasped before her.

Raithe didn’t feel quite so foolish anymore. He was far from happy, but the hug was nice. He’d never wanted much. Dureyans didn’t have dreams the way others did. Food and warmth were all they cared about, and until that moment Raithe’s plan was to be alone in the wilderness. But now he saw how lonely, how empty that would be. He found himself nodding.

“And as for the Fhrey…” Persephone looked over her shoulder at their camp near the well. “Who knows how long they’ll stay. To be honest, they scare me. They scare everyone…except you.”

She was wrong. The Fhrey scared him plenty. Why they hadn’t killed him, he wasn’t sure. The Galantians appeared impressed by the novelty of a Rhune who refused to give in, a Rhune who would fight. Leaving before the novelty wore off was the smart thing to do, but the idea of going without her made his stomach sink.

Perhaps given some time, I’ll be able to convince her to come.

Persephone sighed and looked at the lodge. “Well, I suppose there’s no point in delaying any longer. Best get at it.”

“Be careful in there,” he told her. “I mean it, Persephone. If you have any problem, yell. Yell real loud and then get out of the way. I’ll do the rest.”

“Thanks, but attacking the chieftain probably isn’t the right approach, and I doubt it would help my case.”

“Works in Dureya.” He smiled.

She started back down the ladder and paused. “It’ll be okay; you’ll see. I’ve known Konniger for years. He was my husband’s Shield, after all. I just need to explain my side of things. Oh, and you can call me Seph. You’ve earned that.”

—

“The Galantians said they’ll help us,” Persephone declared, standing before the chairs in the center of the lodge’s Great Hall. Delwin and Tope Highland had come along. The two men stood beside and slightly behind her. Tope’s boots were muddy after a day spent turning soil on the ridge. He wasn’t known as a fighter, but years working in the high fields had made him strong. Delwin held his shepherd’s staff in one hand and a big floppy hat Sarah had made for him in the other. He wasn’t a warrior, either, but as close to a brother as Persephone had. Both men were eager to get home after a long day’s work but had agreed to come with her.

“Help us how?” Konniger’s tone was more than skeptical but shy of sarcastic, a low smoldering growl of reluctant tolerance.

Konniger and Tressa sat in the First and Second Chairs, wearing stone faces. Maeve and Krier stood to either side as was proper for the chieftain’s Shield and the Keeper of Ways. The formality was grating. She was being received like a stranger. Worse even, Persephone smelled cooked meat and baked bread, but the food had been cleared before she entered. Even a stranger would have been invited to dine with them.

Persephone refused to look at Hegner, who stood in the back. She also avoided Maeve’s and Tressa’s eyes and kept her focus on Konniger. “If other Fhrey come, come to destroy Dahl Rhen, they’ll speak for us. They believe it’s possible to prevent what happened in Dureya and Nadak from occurring here.”

There were others in the hall, including Riggles, who farmed the fertile southern fields, and Devon, the huntsman who had been Sackett’s close friend. All of them had something in common—she didn’t know them well, and some, like Krier and The Stump, she didn’t like. There were others, too, new faces that clustered in the shadows behind the First Chair.

Not one of them greeted this news with a smile.

“Why would they do such a thing?” Konniger asked.

“Because these Fhrey oppose what the other Fhrey are doing. They disobeyed their leaders and refused to burn Nadak and Dureya, and—”

“And yet Nadak was burned,” said one of the strangers who stood behind the chairs, a man with a grizzled face and an accusing stare. She didn’t understand where all the hostility came from until she noticed the hammer broach pinned to his shoulder. He was from Nadak.

“True, but they didn’t do it,” she explained. “They tried to stop it. These nine are renegades. They don’t want to hurt us. They can’t return to Alon Rhist, so they’re looking for a place to shelter. But if the others do come, these Fhrey will speak on our behalf, convince their kind to spare us. Don’t you see that if—”

“If the Galantians are outlaws, why would anyone listen to them?” Konniger asked. “And since they are criminals, won’t their presence put us in greater danger? Harboring fugitives will prove to Alon Rhist that we’re troublemakers. Allowing these renegades to stay will make matters worse.”