Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) (19 page)

“You still don’t believe me?”

She shrugged apologetically. “I just can’t see it. I’m sorry.”

Already on his horse, Vennic strolled up behind them. “You’re losing your edge, Darius. I think you’ll have to slaughter a horde of haegaroi in front of her before she’ll believe you.”

“You could offer to support my stories, you know.” Darius grimaced at him. “After all, you were there for three of those dragons yourself.”

Vennic chuckled. “What would you like me to say on your behalf? That we slaughtered every foe and drank the blood of our enemies in triumph?”

Her nose wrinkled. “Drank their blood? That’s—”

“A joke,” Darius said, leading me back to our horses. “The only drinking we ever did after a fight was cheap ale in sketchy public houses.”

Vennic strode along beside them. “Although there was that time with the Prasta, where—”

“Gods, not that again,” Darius waved him off. “You take one sip of heart’s blood to cement an alliance, and your friends never let you forget it.”

“Heart’s blood?” She slowed her steps, casting a wary look at him.

“A dragon was giving a small group of Prasta mercenaries a bit of a hard time, so we stepped in to help,” Vennic explained. “As a show of thanks, they invited us to share in the customary draining of the beast’s heart, after which they drink the blood to absorb the strength of their defeated foe, to honor the dragon as much as the victorious warriors.”

“An odd custom, but I suppose it could’ve been worse. Did you drink as well?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Only the one to deliver the killing blow was invited to partake.” He nodded at Darius. “Still keen to kiss him knowing where those lips have been?”

At Darius’s heavy sigh, she couldn’t help but giggle. “A bit too late now, but
draka ehsa
might be a fun new nickname to try out.”

Their amusement was immediately drenched in icy discomfort, though she wasn’t sure why. While “dragon lips” wasn’t an overly flattering moniker, it seemed like a harmless joke.

Arden looked back and forth between them. “What’ve I done this time? I didn’t mean to insult you, kendala. I was only—”

Darius took a deep breath and held up a hand. “It’s fine, asahana.” He flashed her a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No harm done.”

The conversation ended as they reached their mounts, and she was back to casting skittish glances up the cliff. Darius stopped and considered her for a moment, then swept her up and planted her on the back of his horse, swinging in behind her before she could ask what he was doing.

“I’d never let you fall,” he whispered in her ear, her cheeks flushing at the feel of his breath on her skin.

“But, my horse…”

He reached around her and took the reins. “She knows to follow. Your anxiety would’ve been a distraction to her. It’s better this way, don’t you think?”

Arden nodded and adjusted herself in the saddle. As they headed up the cliff path, her worries remained, but his strong arms around her kept the worst of them at bay. Even still, she kept her eyes ahead, not daring to look down for fear the height might be too much for her. After forty-five minutes of picking their way up the side of the ridge, it was a relief to enter the darkness of the tunnel passage. Rocks and caves she knew. Let the birds keep the clouds for themselves.

Chapter 19

Darius

It wasn’t at all cold in the bowels of the tunnel passage, but Darius shivered against the darkness lurking in the corners the light from the fires couldn’t reach. The last time he was there, he battled his way through masses of haegaroi alongside the army, clearing out the tunnels to allow safe passage again. The creatures were long dead and corpses burned, but his memories hung thick in the air; he could still smell the decaying tang of gore and tainted blood.

They set men to watch in shifts, even though they were certain there wasn’t any danger, as it was far better to be prepared than dead. Darius was coming back from standing guard, a thing he insisted on despite the protests of the men, ready to crawl into bed and hoping for rest free from nightmares. Lantern light filtered out from his tent, however, and he paused. Was Arden still awake?

He pushed through the opening, but stopped immediately inside. Arden knelt in front of her trunk, the Gordian dagger turning in her hands.

“What are you doing up?” When he spoke, she jumped, juggling the dagger as she landed on her rear. Big, blue bug eyes stared up at him through magnification lenses.

“Oh! You startled me. What time is it?”

“Nearly midnight. What are you wearing?” He chuckled at her befuddled look.

She looked down at herself, then back to him. “My nightclothes, of course.”

Crouching down in front of her, Darius grinned and tapped the goggles between her eyes. “On your face.”

She blinked several times. “What? Oh. Yes, those.” Taking hold of a small tab along the bottom edge, she flipped the ridiculous lenses up. “I use them to study things in greater detail. I forget I’m wearing them sometimes. I’ve embarrassed my mother at least half a dozen times showing up to tea this way.”

He stood and helped her to her feet. “And, the dagger?”

She led him over to the lantern and sat again, motioning him to follow. “I had Elena make sure it was packed. I thought if I had some time, I could study it more closely and maybe learn more about it before we reached Ogtern.”

“And did you find anything yet?”

Her face screwed up in a confused expression. “All I really have are more questions. You see here?” She turned the dagger over and set it in his hands. “Right at the end of the grip, on the ball here. Do you see it?”

He squinted at the weapon, trying not to block the light. A series of characters had been impressed in the metal. “You mean those marks?”

She nodded. “I think it’s a dwarvish word, but I don’t know it, never mind know how to pronounce it. At first I thought it might be a maker’s mark, but I know the characters for Gordia, and these don’t match. Do you recognize it at all?”

“I only speak dwarvish, not read it, so I can’t be of much help. Sorry.”

Arden sighed and picked up the dagger, carefully returning it to the satin interior of its box. “Ah, well. It didn’t hurt to ask. I imagine there’ll be someone in Ogtern to discuss it with.”

She pulled off her goggles and cleared the top of the trunk, packing it up as he shed his cloak and armor. She was quiet as she got into bed, staring up at the roof of the tent as he finished undressing. He extinguished the lamp and joined her.

Silent moments passed, but she didn’t stir. As she always slept on her side, he knew she was working up to ask him something.

“Whatever’s bothering you, I hope you’ll tell me soon.”

“I was just thinking about earlier today. Out on the ridge.”

“And?”

“I think I know what it was that upset you, but I was wondering if you’d tell me.”

With a deep breath, he readied himself. He thought she might ask about that, though he expected it sooner. “Naya was there for the heart’s blood. She teased me after, calling me draka ehsa as you did.”

Arden fell silent again.

“Are you all right?”

She shifted beside him. “I thought that might be it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of—”

“Please don’t apologize.” In the darkness, Darius found her hand, weaving his fingers between hers. “I’m sorry I reacted at all. It just… caught me off guard, I suppose.”

“Have I messed it all up again?” Her voice wavered in the darkness, chipping at his heart. “It’s been going so well between us, and now—”

He wrapped her arm over her stomach and pulled her to him, her back against his chest as he breathed in the lavender in her hair. “It takes time, asahana. You haven’t ruined anything.”

Her grip on his hand tightened, and she gave a small nod.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re with me. This place… I still have nightmares about the last time I was here, but you calm me. You’re a light in the darkness, Arden. Do you mind me so close?”

She snuggled deeper under the covers, pulling his arm tighter around her waist. “I’ll keep watch over your dreams, kendala. You’re safe with me.”

He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, fighting back the echoes of violence that hung in the air like a fog. “When I was here before, I couldn’t imagine knowing comfort again. When I say I’m grateful to have you with me, I mean that sincerely. The things I saw in this tunnel, even if I tried to explain, it’s impossible to share the horrors that were lurking here.”

“You can tell me about them, if it helps.”

He sighed. “I’d not disturb you with those stories. Then neither of us would sleep.”

Arden stopped where she was shifting in his arms, thought for a moment, then turned to face him. “You still think me a wide-eyed innocent.” Her hand lifted to rest on his cheek, her skin soft against his scars and stubble. “I watched people die from wounds inflicted by the poisonous claws of Torn Ones. Their howls carried through the halls and courtyard of Aerenhall day and night. I held their hands through amputations, suffered through watching some begin to turn towards infected darkness. It doesn’t happen as often anymore, but I had nightmares for months about one man in particular. He was the husband of one of the women helping tend the wounded. She hid him from the healers, knowing how irreversibly ill he was. He succumbed to the poison shortly after I discovered them, but she was too stricken to do anything. In mere moments the man would’ve… there was no one nearby to help, and it fell to me to act. I… I had to…”

Her voice broke, and he pulled her to him, smoothing her hair as her shoulders trembled. Long moments passed before she settled again.

“I know how it feels to take a life, Darius,” she whispered against his chest. “I know what it’s like to be haunted by sounds of the dying. I know the burden, and I will gladly help you bears yours as much as I can. I may not know the horrors of the front lines, but I know what it’s like to survive the aftermath. There’s no need to shield me from the world. It found me long before you did.”

Hugging her tightly, he knew she was right to correct him. At twenty-five, he felt twice as old as his years and looked at her as though she were a child. “I always underestimate you, asahana. It must be very frustrating.”

She huffed the tiniest of laughs. “I’ve had plenty of practice dealing with people underestimating me. If I can teach my father, I can certainly train you.”

He chuckled against the top of her head. “Is it terrible of me that I’m sort of looking forward to that?”

“So long as you don’t admit that to Vennic. He’d never stop teasing you.”

“It’s unlikely he will, anyway,” he said with a grin. “But he’s good with the horses so I keep him around.”

The conversation faded away, and his body finally began to relax, mostly thanks to Arden. As sleep began pulling at him, she let out a quiet yawn as she curled against him.

“I’m here if you need me, kendala,” she whispered as she drifted off.

Feeling her warmth beside him was enough to quiet his memories. If nightmares found him later, he knew she would soothe him no matter how terrible the ghosts were.

Arden

Mountains always felt more like home to her than anywhere else. Arden couldn’t tear her eyes away from the snow-capped peaks rising into the sky as they neared Ogtern Mountain. The tallest in the entire range, she could see it the whole way through the pass. Excitement bubbled in her stomach, giddy at the prospect of exploring the colony deep inside the earth. Dwarves dug deeper, explored farther underground than humans ever did, and she couldn’t wait to see the abundance of rare rocks and minerals that must’ve been revealed in such extreme excavation. Stones were a measure of time, their exposure marking the paths of the world’s greatest upheavals and changes. Caves and mines always gave her a sense of insignificance, yet immensity. To stand among such testaments to life’s great march… the thought left her breathless.

The pass opened up to a massive market a mile in diameter, all spread before a set of huge stone doors carved into the mountain itself. Even though it wasn’t peak trading time, as winter wasn’t quite over yet, she was curious to see where business with the outside world was conducted.

Her excitement gradually faded into confusion as they passed into the market, however. All around them, the vendor stalls stood empty and still. Not a soul roamed the circular pathways, and everything was shuttered. A glance at Darius’s face answered her unasked question; something was very wrong.

He responded with a single frown and urged his horse to go faster, catching up to Vennic at the front. She couldn’t hear their conversation, but their posture and gestures spoke of serious concern. Eerie silence lurked in the desolate market, broken only by the occasional call of a bird circling overhead. Onward they went, Darius and two guards pulling away from the rest of them, while Vennic dropped back to her.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Shouldn’t there be people here?”

He nodded, the gold of his hair dulled in the pale mountain light. “There should be, yes, unless the yar ordered the doors closed. That’s only done in extreme cases, so if that’s what happened, it doesn’t bode well for our visit.”

“What might cause them to close the doors?”

Vennic shrugged. “Any number of things. A threat from an outside force, a perceived slight that prompted the yar to cut off trade, political upheaval inside the colony… or something else entirely. Whatever it is, it’s not good for us, or Valentia in general. The majority of our raw materials come from Ogtern, as it’s the largest dwarf settlement and the one on the best terms with the crown. If we lose them as a supplier, Valentia could be crippled.”

She bit her lip, her worry growing as the stone doors loomed closer. “I appreciate you telling me. Not everyone thinks I’m interested in or capable of dealing with such problems. Hopefully I can be of some help.”

“I’m not sure how likely they are to welcome that help,” he frowned at the mountain. “The dwarves are particularly keen to keep non-dwarf peoples uninvolved in their lives. Darius earned their trust during the war, but that’s a rare thing. Humans generally aren’t considered heroes to dwarves.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “He’s a hero to them?”

Vennic nodded. “One of their
proseika
, actually. It’s a great honor, and the pinnacle of achievement among dwarves.”

She’d heard many stories about her husband, but not that one. “A proseika? How did he earn that title?”

“It’s a long story, the short of it being he settled a political dispute that could’ve meant civil war for this colony. He also recovered multiple mining tunnels and pathways to colonies that had been lost to the haegaroi. A particularly nasty monster settled into the bowels of this settlement and was spawning these horrific parasitic sacks of flesh that infected the livestock here. Are you familiar with grabnars?”

Bewildered, she shook her head slowly.

“They’re slightly pig-like, but they eat the fungus that grows in the tunnels here as ravenously as goats eat grass. Grabnars are the primary source of meat in dwarf colonies, so the infection threatened every life here, not to mention how devastating it would’ve been to places outside of Ogtern had it spread. Darius found the source and cleared everything out. So, when I say they’re most likely to listen to him out of all of us, it’s for a very good reason.”

It was hard for her to believe one person accomplished so much in a short twenty-five years. How could anyone else ever measure up to such a high standard? It was no wonder he looked at people in tedium; compared to him and the things he’d done, they were all mere children.

“Well,” she shifted in her saddle, determined to help him in whatever capacity she could, “I hope I can be of some use. No one can do everything on their own, right? He can only go so far without a strong team behind him.”

Vennic chuckled. “That’s very true. He wasn’t alone in these mines then, and he isn’t now. We followed him because we believed in his abilities, but also because we add to his strengths, filling in the things he lacks. He knows that, and has always treated us with great appreciation. Darius isn’t in love with titles or accolades, but always strives to be better than what he was told he was as a child. He never accepts less than the best from himself, no matter what the undertaking.”

The rows of weathered wooden stalls gave way, opening up to a clear, circular area surrounding the Ogtern entrance. Vennic pulled to a stop twenty yards from the doors, and they watched as Darius spoke with the guards standing duty. After much discussion, one of the four armored dwarves opened a smaller, inset door and disappeared inside. Ten minutes later, the same guard returned, motioning to the retinue as they watched from a distance. Darius looked like he might be arguing a point, but his words got him nowhere. The guard planted his feet and the end of his tall ax firmly on the ground, bringing a halt to any further discussion on the matter.

Darius and the two guards returned on foot, leading their horses. He motioned the soldiers to disperse information, then approached Vennic and Arden.

“They’ll only let the three of us inside,” Darius said. “No soldiers.”

“No soldiers?” she asked. “Do they think we mean to attack them with so few?”

“The fewer they let in, the fewer they have to worry about,” he said. “There’s a rather large problem, and they don’t want it spreading.” He looked up at her, face pinched. “There’s a very real danger here, asahana. You may want to consider staying behind with—”