Dejer inclined forward in a bow. “Understood, Your Majesty. What would you like me to do?”
“Fetch my nephew, first.”
“Excuse me?”
Kaydor eyed him sideways. “I wish for his input as we make our plans on apprehending these rebels. Is that a problem?”
Dejer made little effort to conceal his distaste. “No, I simply don’t see the benefit of his presence. If I needed to know how to work at a sawmill perhaps—”
Silencing the man’s impudent speech with a threatening glare was undeniably satisfying. “You will fetch my nephew, and you will never question an order of mine again.”
Without another word, Dejer nodded and was gone. It didn’t take him long to return, a curious Zoper in tow. Zoper was never far, now—Kaydor kept him training and learning as often as possible.
“Zoper.” He spread his arm out in a welcoming gesture. “The band of rebels I’ve told you of—they’ve become a headache I’d like to be rid of. Their leader is a man named Yhkon Tavker, he’s not much older than you but he’s a powerful enemy. I sent Dejer with a lance of seventy men to capture them a few weeks ago, and despite catching Yhkon—briefly, anyway—he came back empty handed. What do you think we should do, to ensure that this time, the hunt is successful?”
He watched his nephew’s face, seeing the initial confusion, followed by uncertainty, before Zoper shrugged and began working the problem. Someday, hopefully, there would be no uncertainty or nonchalance. For now it was good enough.
“Well…” And perhaps someday he could break his nephew of his habitual use of the word well. “I suppose if seventy wasn’t enough to take down even the one guy, it’s going to take quite a lot to take them all down. And the more you send the more likely your success. Since you have more than enough minions idling about getting drunk…”
Leave it to Zoper to never take anything seriously.
“Send a whole army. They’ll have no chance against that. Their celiths are faster than most of ours, right? Then with a large enough force, we can box them in, to make sure they don’t simply outrun us.”
Kaydor smiled, clapping his nephew on the shoulder. “I knew you would make me proud. We’ll do exactly as you’ve said. Dejer, take, oh…how about a thousand foot soldiers, and however many calvary you need?”
“A thousand?” Dejer looked at him like he was crazy.
He replied sharply. “What did I just say about not questioning my orders? Go and get it done.” He returned to his throne, mindlessly rubbing his jaw. Yhkon Tavker would be hard pressed to get away this time.
~♦~
Skyve was welcomed into the group easily. He wasn’t exactly friendly but he was polite enough and rather likeable for his straightforwardness. His interest was mostly in what sorts of things the other wards had learned to do with the electricity with practice, how being together seemed to increase their abilities. With the Wardens, he wanted to know all about Calcaria, from the economy, to the military, to the living conditions.
Talea had little to contribute, once Skyve’s focus had been taken off their abilities. Before long, it was only Resh and Grrake he was talking to, leaving the rest of them as idle spectators. She had changed into dry clothes and was finally feeling warm again, sitting beside the fire, and even relaxed. Mr. Lagat had talked with the Wardens for almost an hour, then Skyve had come back with them to camp to meet the others. For the most part, she had been able to withdraw from the discussion.
It had been some time since she’d nervously scanned for Yhkon’s whereabouts, or cringed when she heard his voice. Her mind had finally retreated, putting the conflict aside for a while, unwinding.
So it was with dread that she heard him address everyone that wasn’t busy or talking with Skyve. “Let’s do some archery practice.”
How could she get out of it? Resh was occupied, Gustor wasn’t around. Training with one of them instead wasn’t an option. Yhkon was already waiting for her.
No escape. Fingers curled until her nails bit into her palms, she joined him, head down. All he did was hand her his bow and quiver, and point to the tree that was to be her target.
Other than taking a turn with her brother Naylen’s homemade bow, almost two years ago, she had no knowledge of archery. Asking for guidance, however, was out of the question. She clumsily knocked an arrow to the string. Doing her best to picture and imitate Naylen’s stance, she drew it back, surprised by how difficult it was, did her best to aim, and let it fly. It missed the tree by a couple feet.
“Your stance is wrong,” was all Yhkon said. He proceeded to adjust her posture and grip, all wordlessly, while she bit her cheek and fumed. Satisfied, he stepped back, and she fired again. The improvement was minimal.
“No,” he took the bow from her, “not like that. You aren’t—”
“I was standing how you told me!”
Yhkon considered her cooly, almost mockingly, as he offered the bow back to her. “Oh, by all means, do show me. Since you’re so knowledgeable about the craft.”
Not only did he explode at a simple question, or shut her out for days. Not only did he disdain every attempt to help him. Not only did he spurn her trust and refuse to extend any of his own…he also treated her hurt and anger with contemptuous scorn.
Talea allowed herself one second to glare at him without restraint. But she didn’t intend to be belittled by him, or let him continue belittling others. So her glare became soft, her head tilted to the side, mouth curving into a shy smile. No, that was too much. He would see through it. She let her gaze fall downward again, biting her lip. “Okay…you’re right. Will you show me?”
There was still a glint of suspicion in his eyes, that faded into uncertainty, as he knocked an arrow and entered the “correct” stance. It didn’t look much different than hers. As he became more focused on his aim, she retreated with all the stealth he himself had taught her. By the time he realized she had left a few seconds later, he couldn’t yell after her without calling attention to the matter. She went straight to Resh and Skyve, cheerfully joining their conversation, ignoring the lead Warden’s stare drilling into her back.
Skyve’s stay tarried. Talea wasn’t sure whether his presence made it easier or harder for her to avoid Yhkon. It seemed that as long as she was engaging with Skyve and Resh, Yhkon would leave her be. Racking her brain for questions and comments, she clung to the discussion, wondering at how unwanted her involvement was. At least Resh didn’t mind.
It couldn’t last forever. Eventually, Yhkon joined them as well, setting her teeth on edge. He soon recommended that Skyve practice with his lightning with the other wards. Skyve found the proposal an agreeable one. Talea did not.
Surprisingly, it was Yhkon who gave her a way out. “Talea. I’d like you to do a perimeter check.”
No doubt he meant it as a punishment, “taking away” her chance to train with the other wards. Well let him think so—she’d infinitely prefer a solitary, peaceful ride in the woods. Away from him.
But then he spoke again. “Actually, nevermind. You’ll trai—”
“What?” She didn’t keep the challenge and derision out of her tone. “Do you think I’m going to ride off? Purposely hurt your celith? Set fire to the woods we stand in? Go flag Kaydor down?”