Age of Swords (The Legends of the First Empire #2)

“Stone steals the heat, and the windows are drafty.”

“Hey! You have a glass window.” Brin looked across the room at the nine brightening squares with a little smile of wonder.

“You don’t?”

Persephone drew a loose hair away from Brin’s eyes. How many times have I watched Sarah do the same thing and think about the futility of the effort?

Brin shook her head, undoing Persephone’s work. The chieftain reached out and pushed the hair away again.

“They put me with Moya and Roan,” Brin said. “Moya snores. Did you know that?”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

They sat for a time, quietly watching the early light begin to expose vague shapes beyond the panes. Ghostly forms only partially revealed themselves, shrouded behind a dim haze that Persephone finally realized was fog. She was anxious to see what this new world was like, but the temperature wasn’t warm enough to burn that fog away, a disappointment. As far as she knew, they were the first Rhunes to cross the Blue Sea. Belgreig was something of a mythical place—the land of the Dherg—the once great empire brought low by the Fhrey after an epic war. It couldn’t all be as dreary as what they’d seen so far.

“What do you remember Maeve telling you about demons?” Persephone asked.

Brin glanced up at her with childlike eyes, wide and innocent. Then they changed. Persephone saw the shift, the fade of the girl and the rise of wisdom. There was a legend that Keepers didn’t simply memorize stories, but inherited the spirits of the Keepers who’d come before. Persephone had asked Maeve if this was true or not, but the former Keeper of Ways never answered. Looking into Brin’s eyes, she wondered anew. Maybe they were all in there, a score of ancestors going back to the first days, a council of spirits who pushed forward when a chieftain posed a question. Brin looked as if she were listening to voices that only she could hear.

“Unlike spirits of nature, demons come from the same place as gods,” Brin said, staring at the desk while speaking as if she were seeing some other place beyond the room. “They are eternal beings of great power that seduced women who then gave birth to the giants. Envious of the gods, they sought the destruction of all their works. They are fire and ice, darkness and despair, pain and torment. Intelligent, crafty, and wicked, they are known to change shape. They can appear as animals, fire, whirlwinds, and people. While in their true form, they are hideous creatures that can appear beautiful and thereby tempt people to act against their better natures. Their purpose is always to betray, destroy, and bring havoc upon the children of the gods, their unworthy rivals.”

Brin stopped. She blinked and looked up. The girlish face surfaced once again. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

“If I wasn’t before, I am now.” She brushed Brin’s hair away again.

Brin nodded. She swallowed hard and stared down at the bed looking as if she might be sick.

“Look,” Persephone told her. “There’s no reason we all need to set out. Suri and Arion are the only ones with a part to play.” She thought a moment. “And I will have to go, too, of course.”

“Why you?”

“I’m the chieftain. What sort of leader would I be if I didn’t lead my troops into battle?” She nodded, mostly to herself, her lips firm on the subject. Most of Reglan’s battles had occurred before they were married, before she was even born. But there had once been a dispute with Nadak, which she remembered. Reglan had taken down his spear and shield and marched out the gate at the head of more than sixty men, all in war paint. Forty-three returned, and Nadak never challenged the might of Rhen again. They said Reglan had led the charge and had slain the first man with a masterful thrust of his spear. The story was told many times in the lodge. Persephone never thought to ask her husband if he’d been frightened the night before. At the time, they’d only been recently married, and Reglan had yet to discover his wife was worthy of any serious conversation. She seemed to remember him lingering in the Great Hall that evening even after the other men had left. He had come to bed late, waking her when he did. He kissed her on the head—yes, she remembered that. Such a strange thing, she had thought back then. Not so strange anymore.

Another knock sounded. Before Persephone could say anything, Moya entered with Roan in tow. “Why is it so cold?”

“Stone sucks the heat,” Brin said.

“Something sure sucks,” Moya grumbled.

“Seph is going to leave us here and go with Arion and Suri,” Brin announced.

“Like Tetlin’s malformed ass, she is,” Moya replied, making Brin laugh.

The girl saw Persephone scowl and stopped with a guilty look.

“She’s right. You’re all staying here,” Persephone said.

“I’m not.” There wasn’t any jest in Moya’s words this time. No attempt at bravado. She was serious. “I go where you go. Especially when facing a demon, whatever that really means.”

Her hand slipped down to the handle of her little sword. The weapon was always at her side, attached to the thick leather belt that hung off one hip in a manner Persephone thought provocative. Moya could wear a grain sack and look seductive, but the low-slung belt drew attention to her hips, and the unseemly weapon declared her wild ways. Any man would be titillated by such a woman. That had been the point, Persephone thought. Moya lived to break rules, to rebel and seduce. She had flirted with the Fhrey as one more taboo, one more conquest, and the sword was a trophy.

“I don’t think a sword will help against a demon,” Persephone said. “There’s no reason to risk your life.”

“What about you? You don’t even have a sword. Why are you going?”

“It’s my responsibility as chieftain.”

“And it’s my responsibility as Shield to the chieftain.”

“Shield? Who said anything about being a Shield?”

“I’m here to protect you, and I’m the only one with a weapon.” She made a show of looking around. “You see someone else volunteering for the position?”

Persephone grew frustrated. Moya was being ridiculous. “You can’t be a Shield, Moya. You’re a woman, and not even a big one. How do you expect to defend me? This isn’t a game. People could die. Be serious for once.”

Moya looked as if she’d been slapped. Then her jaw set and her eyes narrowed. “You’re a woman, too, Seph. Did you ever hear me say you couldn’t be chieftain?”

“It’s not the same thing and you know it.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Because I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.”

Moya’s hand came off the pommel of her sword and fell limp at her side. She stood staring at Persephone for a long moment, breathing hard, pursing her lips. Then slowly she began to nod. “Okay…sure, so I’m not the best warrior in the world. You’re right. How could I be? I’ve only been training for a few weeks, and I am a woman. And everyone knows women can’t fight, right?”

Persephone didn’t answer.