Children of Wrath

Aejys stiffened, straightened, and whipped round on her. "They are not mine. I don't want them."

"You do not understand them. Have some compassion," Laurelyanne pleaded, looking to Josiah to help her, but he only shook his head. He refused to become involved in this, knowing his beloved's reasons far better than anyone else, since he had witnessed them. However, the story was not his to tell. Should Aejys choose to tell someone, then that was her decision.

"Anyone who would enjoy having monsters feed upon them … who would protect those same monsters…" Aejys snarled, her hands tightening into fists. "No. I don't want them."

Aejys stalked off.

Laurelyanne had ruined the moment — to have a single moment with Aejys spoiled, twisted his heart. Four months ago Josiah had believed that he and Aejys would have a lifetime together, now they might have a year at most. Dynarien had said autumn, six months of life; Laurelyanne believed she might find a way to stretch that to a year with luck. He grabbed at the Valdren mage. "Help me up. I must go after her."

Laurelyanne's lips parted, her eyes reflecting confusion. "I do not understand why she became so angry. She was always one to understand the misunderstood…"

"You asked too much." Josiah caught at the edge of the couch as he nearly fell in his haste to get up. "Aejys!" His chest tightened suddenly. His whole body seized up. He collapsed, panting and gasping. "I can't breathe. I can't breathe." Consciousness deserted him.

Laurelyanne sat down, turning him in her arms so that he leaned against her chest while she dug in the saddlebags, bringing out a vial of finely ground amphereon, which she administered to the mucous membranes of his nostrils and gums. It acted like adrenaline. She followed that with more of the medicine. He shivered violently, although it was a warm day, and showed no signs of returning awareness.

"Someone get me a blanket!" Laurelyanne shouted at those who lingered in the Great Hall.

Laelyn and two other Sharani appeared at her shoulder, they had been crossing the Great Hall together when they saw him collapse. One of them looked rather young, not more than sixteen and large, easily topping Aejys' six three by at least two. The other was close to that. Nearly all Sharani tended to reach and often top six feet.

"What's wrong?" Laelyn squatted on her haunches, one foot pushing up on the ball, her arms draped loosely across her knees, eyes scanning Josiah. The youngest of her companions leaned against the wall, watching casually outward like a guardian that did not want to be immediately noticed while the other bent forward, hands on knees. "My granddaughter, Bryngaryn," she indicated the one closest and then the mon leaning against the wall, "My youngest niece, Maranya."

"He's had another bad spell."

Laelyn could see him shivering. "He's chilled. Bryngaryn?"

Bryngaryn removed her cloak wrapping him in it. "He's light, grandma'aram. I can handle him." Bryngaryn had the open, willing helpfulness of youth in her eyes and kindness in the concerned tilt of her lips.

Laelyn nodded and Bryngaryn lifted him easily.

"He put his life between hers and the blades of the unseen foe as they erupted out of the forest," Laurelyanne said, not noticing the odd, startled look passing between Bryngaryn and Maranya at her turn of phrase, while they walked beside her.

"They must have hurt him badly if he still cannot seem to fully recover," Laelyn observed.

"The tools of the enemy…" Laurelyanne left the rest to their imagination.

"What happens here? Someone is hurt?" The blunt voiced query came from a stout mon of middling height, wearing a mar'ajan's coronet with a bit of gray ribbon attached to indicate she wore it in trust for another as regent. Anaria Dovane de Danae, Regent of Danae looked more like a farmwife than the ruler of one of the most powerful mar'ajanates of Shaurone. She pulled off her gloves as she approached, shoving them through her belt. Two ha'taren flanked her. They wore the golden gryphon on green of Danae on their tunics. The mon limped heavily, having been crippled in the early days of the Great War by one of the hellblades of the Waejontori. The spell-breakers had acted quickly with the menders following behind them, yet could not entirely spare her the residual effects. Anaria had suffered less than some and more than others who had felt the bite of those blades.

They recognized her immediately; all bowing slightly with their shoulders, except Bryngaryn whose arms were laden with Josiah.

"Your grace," Laelyn acknowledged Anaria Dovane, Regent of Danae. "It's Josiah Abelard. He was sorely wounded in Norendel defending our king, overtaxed himself today and had a bad spell."

"Where is Aejys?"

"In the yard, watching another burning."

Anaria frowned. "She's become a grim one."

"She has."

"Well, let's go find her."

GODWAR CENTRAL

Children of Wrath