She nodded slowly and pushed the doors to the lecture hall open silently. The droning voice of the instructor echoed out into the hall and she glanced at Finn one last time before entering the room. “You are likely going to be very pissed off later today, then,” she whispered.
“Why?” he asked in confusion.
“Because I’ve arranged to have lunch with Madren today to discuss what he has learned about the Goswin curse,” she informed him in the same hushed voice and quickly entered the class before he could voice objections.
Chapter 17
Delvay
“I don’t even know why I’m riding through all this gods-be-damned snow to stop this war from starting. I would absolutely love it if the Delvay wiped Rivana off the map,” Havoc grumbled over his shoulder. His horse struggled beneath him as he spoke, trying to find purchase on the steep, snow-packed path. Without seeming to consider it, Havoc adjusted his seat and leaned forward more in the saddle to ease the burden for his mount.
“Because Symphony asked us to and Caspian ordered it,” Victory reminded him with a deep sigh. A fresh cloud of steam rose around Havoc’s blood-red stallion as he pushed through another deep snow bank. It wasn’t often that Havoc rode his Flame Steed on missions, but he had chosen it without hesitation for this particular trip. Not only was the beast doing an excellent job at clearing the trail, it would stand fearlessly before the Delvayon snow cats when most horses would bolt.
I’m not sure which is more agitated our fiery friend or the sentinels watching us approach. Avalanche’s voice came as a warm breath in Victory’s mind. His Familiar seldom spoke anymore, and hearing the voice brought a smile to his face. Speech wasn’t truly needed between them, of course. They had been bonded for so long that Avalanche didn’t truly need to speak for Victory to understand him. Yet, at times like these, hearing Avalanche’s calm rational voice was like a beautiful work of music compared to Havoc’s ranting.
I can’t say which is more irritated but I’ll lay money on Havoc, Victory replied.
Gambling with a horse is a new low on vices, Avalanche replied in amusement, his ears twitching at the thought and Victory chuckled despite his effort to remain silent.
“You find something amusing about this?” Havoc demanded, half turning in his saddle. Waving a hand violently the Firym cleared the fog surrounding him enough to get a clear look at Victory. “I’m serious, Victory. The Rivasans are a bloody abomination. They should be wiped out. They call themselves masters of flames. They corrupt flames, Victory. They wouldn’t know true fire if I set them on bloody fire. I would cheer the Delvay on gladly if they would eliminate Hellfire from this world.”
“Bloodless revolution, Havoc,” Victory reminded him, gently wishing fervently that he hadn’t chuckled aloud. He knew how sincere Havoc’s words were and provoking him further was the last thing he wanted to do.
“That’s never going to happen and you and I both know it, Vic,” Havoc grumbled, turning back heavily in his saddle. His horse snorted in protest and shook its head, steam blowing from its nostrils. Victory watched the animal silently as the diameter of melted snow widened around it and the fog bank grew once more. The description of hot-tempered suited the Firym and their mounts quite well he decided.
Sighing, he glanced ahead at their progress up the mountain. Halfway, if he estimated it correctly. The three peaks were certainly closer but the climb was anything but easy for the horses, so it would go slow. There was a reason the Delvay chose to use snow cats. This climb was impossible for a typical horse. Fortunately neither of these horses was typical. Still, he had little enough time for Havoc to calm down before they arrived. If he, in fact, should calm him down. Really he wasn’t sure. There was no doubt they would be challenged at the gate and the Delvay believed in survival of the fittest. If he let Havoc tear into the sentries in a full blown rage it might get them in to see Lord Delvayon sooner. Of course, he wasn’t certain he could stop Havoc at simply incapacitating the sentries, and Lord Delvayon would likely frown on dead men at his gate.
“You know Morcaillo will never surrender. It will be war, and half of our lords are tied up with the Blights now. Lutheron says the Blights are in Faydwer now and he expects them to infest the Scarlet Jungle next. Have you noticed how they only seem to be affecting our side of things?” Havoc grumbled.
“It may not be bloodless, Havoc, but let’s not have it be said it was because we didn’t try everything we could to make it so,” Victory replied calmly.
“What if we talk Delvay down and the Rivasans attack them anyway?” Havoc demanded.
“We have someone speaking with the Rivasans, as well,” Victory reminded him with a sigh.
“Like the bloody Rivasans will keep their word. They will wait till Delvay is unprepared and attack,” Havoc spat back, his tone disgusted. “Fuck the Rivasans. I say we help Delvay burn them out,” he added with far too much enthusiasm.
“Havoc,” Victory warned patiently, and the Firym lowered his voice and continued to mutter to himself.
“Are you really letting a pixie talk you out of a good fight Jani? Did you lose your balls when you got your tattoos?” A mocking feminine voice called from above them.
Looking up sharply, Victory searched the area, his eyes finally coming to rest on a slender blond woman perched comfortably in a tree limb not fifteen feet from where they rode. She wore hunting leathers that were faded and patched with a pair of wickedly long daggers strapped to her belt. Her gaze was locked on Havoc and the Firym’s back had noticeably stiffened. “Jani?” Victory asked in confusion, turning his gaze toward Havoc as well.
“Please don’t tell me you are one of their sentinels? Did they run out of scouts that were actually worth paying?” Havoc asked, as his gaze slowly turned to regard the woman, his expression incredulous.