He didn’t.
After a second of uncertainty, Larak kicked his celith into a trot, and they all fell in behind him. Yhkon took Eclipse to the very back. The rhythmic motion of the stallion’s gait, the saddle creaking softly, dozens of hooves drumming the ground beneath them. It was all so familiar. It had been almost every day of her life for the past five months. Yet it felt different now. They weren’t travelling to get the next ward, they were travelling to Calcaria, every ward present. The mission was complete. At least, the very beginning of it. Supposedly, the majority of it still lay ahead. In Calcaria, they had to become the Eight as they had been prophesied, not just eight teenagers with an ability they barely knew how to use. And once they were ready, they would lead the war to end the Eradication.
It was easy to forget all of that. It had been such a constant, large presence in her mind for months, but in the last two weeks it had faded. Replaced by a more immediate need. Yhkon. Grrake, Jay…the whole group. Or, more accurately, keeping the group whole.
Except it was too late for that. The unity of the Wardens and wards may have been questionable before. Since the day they all found out Grrake’s secret, it had rapidly disintegrated altogether. It was strangely difficult to imagine a day when they would all work together to fight a war.
The day passed slowly. She had spent enough time out of the saddle to feel stiff and sore as the hours ticked by. There was little conversation, even when they were moving slow enough to make it easy. Or, any conversation that did take place, was too far ahead or too quiet for her to hear. She and Yhkon spoke little. There wasn’t much to speak about, and she didn’t think he would be comfortable talking with other people around.
She was happy to get out of the saddle by the time they stopped for the day, but already worried about what conflict might arise once they were all stuck in the same camp. Everyone dismounted and spread to their usual responsibilities. Everyone except her and Yhkon. She didn’t like doing nothing while everyone else was working, but she couldn’t simply abandon Yhkon.
He, however, apparently wasn’t going to stand by and watch. After tying Eclipse he strode to where Resh and Haeric were setting up a tent, and started to help. Unsure of what else to do, Talea did the same, though she knew she was hardly much use to them.
Larak interrupted within seconds. “Yhkon, I told you, no—”
“I’m f-fine and you knot it.” He kept working. His teeth were already clenched. This isn’t going to go well.
“Oh really?” Larak just frowned and crossed his massive arms. “You don’t sound fine. Hit to the head, remember?”
Yhkon stopped the job to glare at him, answering as slowly and clearly as possible. “A speech impedi-di-ment does not mean I can’t set up a bloody tent.”
Talea would have been gratified by how well he’d controlled his speech, except Larak’s frown didn’t lighten. “Fine. Then you can go help set up that tent.” He tilted his head to where Grrake and Wylan were constructing another.
She winced. Yhkon’s glare kindled, and she knew her apprehension had been right. Then he took a deep breath and lowered his voice, moving closer to limit the conversation to only her and Larak’s ears. “There’s no reas-son I can’t help without wa-working with him or Jay.”
Larak didn’t relent. “And there’s also no reason you shouldn’t work with them.”
She’d never thought the day would come when she would be tempted to slap the giant, usually rational man before her...yet it had.
Yhkon’s patience, already stronger than she’d expected it to be, had run out. “You are n-not the ladder here, so I sugg-ga-gest that you stop th-thinking you can-”
“Neither are you.” Larak’s thundering voice could cut him short even when he was angry. “You were hardly a leader before, and you certainly aren’t one now. If you want that position back, I suggest that you get over your issues and your bitterness and handle problems like a man.”
Talea stared at him. Shock silenced anything she might have said. Yhkon was speechless with either surprise or fury, which one she didn’t know. And she didn’t want to wait to find out. Anything he did say to defend himself would probably come out a mess, so she would do it. She moved between him and Larak, putting a hand on Yhkon’s arm just in case he was furious enough to become aggressive. But before she could say a word, Yhkon spun and walked away.
They both watched him go. Larak, with something like a sense of accomplishment. Talea with mounting indignation on Yhkon’s behalf. “What in Kameon are you doing?” She glared up at him. “That was progress, and you completely ruined it! He—”
“He needs a little more correction and a lot less coddling,” he interrupted impatiently.
“Correction?” She recoiled. “What is he, a misbehaving celith? Can you honestly blame—”
Larak spoke over her again. “He’s been like this for over a decade and I’ve been there the whole time, so don’t—”
“Enough!” Grrake’s voice surprised them both. He stood by, demeanor both pained and firm. “Larak,” he looked him squarely in the eye and held it, “he is my son, he is an adult, and he has every right to hate me. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but you do not get to discipline him.”
That was clearly not what Larak had expected to hear. Or wanted to hear. “We have done nothing but coddle him all these years,” he snapped. “Don’t you think if that was going to work, it would have by now? He needs to learn to move on! Call it tough love if you want. And what about Jaylee? She certainly doesn’t deserve that sort of treatment.”
Grrake’s hazel eyes hardened with more sternness than she had perhaps ever seen from him. “You know what he’s been through. Can you blame him for pushing her away because he doesn’t want to lose someone he cares about again? Don’t you dare act like he’s some cowardly, spoiled child.” Larak started to say something. Grrake didn’t give him the chance. “He’s recovered as much as he will from the concussion and does not need you medically, so I ask that if this is how you feel, you leave him alone.”
Larak hardly looked pleased. Still, he nodded after a moment. “You know where I stand. But I won’t intervene again.” He walked away without another word.
Talea turned to see where Yhkon had gone. He was with Eclipse...not very far away. Had he been able to hear them? Grrake must have thought so, because he drew Talea further away and spoke quietly. “I’ve been wanting to thank you, for…” He didn’t seem to know what word to use. “For sticking with him, in all this.”
She blinked. “I’m with you too, you know.”
A small smile. “I know. And thank you for that, also.” He set a hand on her shoulder, and left.
With the familiar knot in her stomach, she did what she always did—left the group behind, and went to Yhkon. He was on his knees, checking Eclipse’s hooves for rocks. “Hey,” was all she could say.
No reply. He sat back, eyes losing focus. She sat down next to him, and after a few moments of silence, leaned her head on his shoulder. It allowed her to hear his whisper, barely audible. “I don’t hate him.”