Messenger (Guardian Trilogy Prequel 1) (22 page)

BOOK: Messenger (Guardian Trilogy Prequel 1)
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“And she is! Get up. You have guests.”

The flap fell and I could hear only Alban’s side of the conversation from just outside the tent.

“Sleep? She doesn’t sleep. None of us do!”

I swung my feet to the ground, realizing how surreal it was to see him here and not in the Hall of Records placing a wager or arguing his case on how he won a particular bet.

“She’ll be just fine,” Alban bickered with the mysterious person defending my right to peace and privacy. “She’s a messenger. We’re hardy!”

Something that sounded like the pounding of fists against a chest followed.

The tent flap opened and I braced myself for another shout from Alban. Thankfully, Eran entered.

He strolled to my bed and settled to a stop in front of it, folding his hands across his chest and holding back a smile.

“Did Alban come alone?” I asked, slipping on my boots.

“No.”

“Then only his guardian is with him?” I presumed.

“No.”

A holler of laughter vibrated the air, and I knew it had come from Alban’s deep lungs.

“Who else is here?” I asked.

“You’ll need to see that for yourself. I can list off the guardians, but I have a feeling you’re going to know them about as well as I know the messengers.”

That sounded like a lot.

The flap opened again and Alban shouted, “You coming?”

“Yes,” Eran said over his shoulder, “we are.”

He looked like he wanted to say more. His focus on me and the intensity of his stare made me think so, but Alban brought that to an end.

“Then out! Or I’m coming in! I want to say hello to the one causing such havoc.”

“Causing havoc?” I whispered, passing by Eran.

He shrugged, but something made me think he understood that term better than me.

Havoc, as it turned out, wasn’t the right word. Anarchy would have been more appropriate. I noted this as I stepped out into the morning sun.

While the camp was always busy with peasant soldiers coming and going or simply sitting around discussing peasant uprisings to the north and south of us, today there seemed to be twice as many people within eyesight than was typical. I was familiar with about twenty of them. The men and women lingering nearby the messengers were strangers to me but I could identify them as guardians easily enough by their rigid, alert stares, powerfully built physiques, and array of unique weapons.

“There she is!” Alban shouted and swung a meaty arm around my shoulders.

He was hefty but squat which allowed me to look directly to the right and look him in the eye.

“Hello, Alban.”

Again, his face disappeared and rows of teeth emerged.

“Heard you were in need of some help.”

“Is that right?”

“I bet them I could find you before the others could. I bet them you’d be right here,” he said, grinning now at the crowd that was gathering. I was about to ask who when he released me and began badgering the crowd. “Pay up now. Pay up!”

A gentle hand fell on my shoulder and I turned expecting, hoping it was Eran. I was already leaning toward it when Hermina’s face came into focus.

I drew in a sharp breath and swung my arms around her.

She laughed and patted my back maternally.

As we parted, she said in the same language as Alban, “Seeing all of us here must be surreal.”

“That is an understatement.” They should be in the afterlife, where I usually saw them.

“We’ve missed you at training,” she hinted.

“I’ve been busy,” I said and she tipped her head in understanding. “I’m glad to know you’re still going.”

She feigned displeasure. “If we didn’t, I can assure you Jacob would round us up one by one and require it. He does need his time on stage as you know.”

“I do,” I said, trying to hold back a laugh and failing. “It’s good to see you.”

“And it’s good to see you.” She tilted her head wavering. “Not under these circumstances, of course, but good nonetheless.”

I smiled but even as I did my next statement contradicted it. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Questioning our abilities to defend already, are you?” she teased. “I’ll have you know I have several new techniques I’ve been dying to use.”

“Poor choice of words.”

She laughed affectionately.

“I’m serious, Hermina-”

“Roza,” she corrected.

I frowned at her. “I don’t want you hurt.”

“And why…,” she countered, winking at me, “do you think
we
are here?”

“Of course someone will get hurt,” said a dour voice, replacing Hermina’s gentle one.

I rotated around to find Jerod. He was dressed in the finest fashion and was immaculately groomed, perfectly suited for a battlefield camp.

“Jerod, so nice of you to come.”

He grinned tightly. “You wouldn’t expect me to miss the finale to the greatest bounty of all time, would you? And played out in the center of the greatest battle on earth, so far.” He paused to sigh dramatically. “I have my reasons for thinking this battle will be dwarfed, but I’m here for it regardless.”

“As always, it is a pleasure to have your decadence present to remind us that values are at stake.”

“Thank you,” he said with a wide smile.

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know you were, dear.” He spun on his heel to merge back into the crowd but not before adding, “Nice tunic.”

I glanced down at what I wore, observing the black fabric and multiple loops for weapons.

“You’re being sincere, Jerod,” I called out to him.

“You are correct.”

Midway through our earthly reunion, I felt someone’s eyes watching me and found Eran standing beside the tent. Alongside him was a row of guardians, reminding me of the first time I had seen them, lining the border of the clearing on our first training. Just as before, they stood stiff, ready, and ill at ease.

I approached them and introduced myself. They were receptive but restrained so I did the best I could to make them feel welcomed, asking about their weapons and to point out their ward. Both topics went over well. Gillis showed me the war hammer and told me that he chose it because it is a close combat tool, and he liked to be close to his enemies. Pascal was more reserved, pointing out how his club could inflict harm in several different maneuvers. Cilla showed me the array of daggers she had stowed below her everyday tunic and how effortlessly she could reach them by the cuts she had made in the fabric. By the end of the line, I happened to glance in Eran’s direction and found his eyes had followed me. They were filled with pride and gratitude.

When the introductions were over we didn’t disperse but sorted into groups, drifting from one to the next to learn about each other’s lives on earth. And it occurred to me that when we spent time in the afterlife we were so dedicated to our duties there that we hadn’t learned about each other here, on this side. We spent the day making up for lost time.

While there was no talk about Fallen Ones, as that was a taboo subject around reborns who didn’t recall the afterlife, there were questions about messengers and guardians. And they weren’t limited to our group. Others noticed our growing ranks and the first query was posed by a man who I’d seen around camp and who had made attempts to formalize their war efforts. His name was Enderl and he was observant enough that on the night the messengers and guardians began to arrive, he sought us out.

“We have spare tents,” he proclaimed as he came through the dark to join the circle around our fire.

It was a cool night but warmer than it had been now that the spring frost had passed. Fires at night around camp had been larger and greater in number during the cooler months making it easy to distinguish people crossing from one to the other. Now, people came through the darkness and each time it caused the guardians to move for their weapons.

“You can put those away,” Enderl said without bothering to look at those who held them.

Eran confirmed with a nod and they stowed them.

Enderl didn’t take a seat on the ground with the rest of us, which meant he didn’t plan on staying long.

“I’ve been formally asked to address you and your entourage. While we can offer tents, that will be the limit to our generosity.” He paused to let this point settle in. “We understand you have not come to fight alongside us, and that your services will be to supplement Friedricha.”

“Who’s Friedricha?” Alban asked, to which Hermina elbowed him.

She immediately followed that with a confirmation. “Yes, we are more inclined to offer…otherworldly help.”

“That’s fine,” Enderl said, “but I give you fair warning that frauds and heretics will not be welcomed here.”

“We understand,” Hermina asserted calmly.

Enderl gave our group one final sweeping evaluation. “Is there anything else?”

Jerod was the first to speak. “I, for one, would greatly appreciate a tent.”

“We can arrange that,” he said, his expression clearly reflecting the hope that his warning had sunk in. The issue of the tent came second. “Now which are you…the messenger or the guardian?”

This made nearly everyone take Enderl seriously. Not many people were astute enough to know the difference or that our titles even existed.

Jerod was the only one not taken aback, seeing it as more of a compliment than a threat.

“I am a messenger,” he proclaimed. “I have
talent
.”

A round of objections immediately sprang up around the circle.

“Talent in putting on your boots…”

“Talent in combing your hair…”

“Talent in eating with a fork…”

His lip turned up at us before meekly arguing, “I was referring to a talent in discovering the truth.”

Grumbles followed his statement because we could all agree on that point. He had a knack for pestering, soliciting, and otherwise haranguing others into giving him private information. He thrived on secrets. For this, he was actually an excellent messenger.

“You know our roles?” asked Natalia, reverting back to Enderl’s last question. Despite her generally threatening appearance, ink black hair, and ever-present shadowy patches below her eyes, she was one of the more timid messengers. I got the impression that she chose that look specifically to offset the trepidation she carried with her.

“I know that guardians guard messengers, but I don’t know who is which around this particular fire.”

This started a round of introductions, which seemed to go well until the attention landed on Eran and me.

“And Thomas is Friedricha’s guardian,” said Enderl using the only names he knew us by.

“No,” Eran said beginning to shake his head. “No, she’s not my ward.”

The stares we received for that response almost made me cringe. There must have been a number of questions running through the minds of those around the fire. What was he doing here with her then? Who was his ward? Why wasn’t he with her? But Enderl singled out the one largest inconsistency.

“But you’re a guardian,” he stated.

“Yes, I am.”

“And she’s a messenger,” he continued.

“Yes.”

“And you’re always together.”

“Yes,” Eran said, stiffly.

“So, who
is
your ward?” Enderl asked.

“I don’t have one.”

“So, you’re with her,” Enderl said tipping his head at me, “but not…appointed to her.”

“That’s correct.”

There was absolute silence from the others now. Everyone sat motionless, transfixed by what exactly the Guardian Legion’s colonel was doing. I wondered why Eran didn’t end the conversation or veer it away from this topic. He certainly had the charm capable of doing it tactfully, without giving anyone reason to question it. It almost seemed as if he wanted the others to know about me.

Eran’s reasoning remained inexplicable when he prompted Enderl to continue his inquiry. “Is that all?”

“No,” said Enderl boldly. “Why is it that you stay then?”

Eran’s response was uncomplicated despite the multitude of decrees he was breaking. It explained and defined the very reason that guardians had been created and it underscored the reason he was a leader and not a follower. “I do it because she needs me.”

Concerned this might give others the same idea, I changed the subject abruptly. “We won’t need the tents, Enderl, but thank you for the offer.”

He gave me a questioning look, along with the rest of the circle.

“Our guests won’t be staying.”

“Won’t be…?” someone objected, I think it was Cilla.

“They’ll be on their way shortly.”

Even Eran shifted to get a better look at me and assess what I was doing.

“This is a dangerous place,” I explained, “and these are dangerous times. They have come to keep me safe, but I won’t allow them to put their lives on the line for me.” I wanted to add
eternal lives
but he wouldn’t know what that meant.

BOOK: Messenger (Guardian Trilogy Prequel 1)
3.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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