Blood War

"You may not have to worry about the rain," the General said, and proceeded to tell Solis what I'd overheard the evening before.



"We'll have to quarter the bulk of the army on the northeastern edge, I think," Solis said thoughtfully. "Windle is where the ground starts to rise at the foot of the mountains. It'll be a steady climb once we get past it."



* * *



"Where is the Raona?" Roff walked beside Flavio after the Council meeting. Aurelius and Garde had come to handle it in Lissa's absence. Flavio studied his youngest vampire child and wondered what to tell him.



"Child, she had something important to do. She should be back in three weeks or so," Flavio sighed. "Her mates did not receive any notification of her absence."



"Is that why Gavin seems so angry?"



"More than likely," Flavio nodded at Roff's observation. "He is not angry with you." Gavin and Tony had begun to teach Roff how to fight. Flavio felt it necessary after Roff’s wounding.



"Is he angry with Lissa?"



"In a way. He worries about her. He wants to keep her safe always, and she sometimes prevents him from protecting her as he wants."



"Is she in danger?" Roff was worried now and his wings tightened against his back.



"No more than usual, I think," Flavio soothed Roff. "Lissa has talents that the rest of us lack."



"We're having a security meeting tonight," Tony walked up beside them.



"May I come?" Roff asked.



"You may come, but you may not speak of what you hear," Flavio placed compulsion. Roff nodded in silent acceptance.



* * *



"Brenten, you've been moping around since the ball," Wylend glanced at his son. Griffin had a standing invitation to have breakfast with his father, and usually took advantage of it. Griffin studied his father's face. They looked very much alike, he and his father. "I'm sure Lissa will be fine—I understand she holds a great deal of power, although she seldom uses any of it," Wylend added.



"It's what she is," Griffin sighed. "She doesn't Look, because she doesn't want to pry most of the time. She refuses to push anyone unless they are committing a great wrong. There are times when she should speak up and she doesn't. And times when she should remain silent, and she doesn't."



"If you had raised her, perhaps you could have taught her those things."



"I wasn't allowed. Considering what happened after, perhaps it's for the best."



"Are you saying that the pain was less, this way? Erland has told me what happened. All of it." Wylend sipped his tea.



"She hasn't been wrong about me. Most of the time," Griffin muttered. "She shouldn't be on Vionn, now."



"I don't believe anyone could have stopped her," Wylend observed.



"No, father. I mean what I say. She shouldn't be there now. I switched the bracelets. I knew Green Birth was coming, and that they wouldn't give up until they had my son. Every future I saw showed Wyatt living with the Green Fae until he was grown. The only way to stop it was to provide a substitute. I did what I had to do to make sure they didn't take Wyatt."



* * *



I was glad to come to Windle. The General took rooms in town on the northeast end, not far from where the army camped. I'm sure he did it to keep an eye on the HC, who took rooms at a nearby inn. Solis, his unspoken second-in-command, took the adjoining set of rooms. He and Warn helped watch over the General.



"Where are you going?" Solis stood on the steps leading into the inn—I'd met up with him as I walked out the door, slinging on my leather jacket. Evenings were quite cool in the foothills so I took the jacket, although I didn't feel the cold as much as the others did. I could easily have gone without a coat, but everybody else with us was shivering and wearing warmer clothing. Solis wanted to know what I was doing; he was just returning from a short conference with the other Captains.



"Out for a little air; those rooms can get stuffy," I said. "I'll be back." Solis gave me a curt nod and walked through the door, leaving me to my business. I'd waited for a week and a half to deliver this message, but it had to be delivered. In a way that left no doubt with the ones who'd snatched Toff. I'd gone Looking for him twice, now, but there was some sort of buzz around him and I couldn't get a clear picture. Most likely, whatever power they'd used to snatch him to begin with was now clouding any images of him.



I had horrible visions of Toff being turned over to The Red Hand if Green Birth didn't get exactly what they wanted. Green Birth, Red Hand. What a joke. And if I didn't do something there at the end, Toff could be killed anyway, right along with Green Birth and their half-Fae children. I walked into a stand of trees, made sure there wasn't anyone to see and went to mist.



Green Birth was scattered in a series of valleys beyond the mountain range we would cross as soon as the HC decided to move—if he decided to move. I had my own worries concerning the message he expected from the Pelipu. It couldn't be anything good, in my opinion.



Spring was barely beginning in the valleys as I flew over them, with trees starting to bud and a hint of green grass on the valley floors. A river ran through the place and there were orchards and fields already planted with early crops. A vineyard filled an entire valley. I selected an apple orchard, the early spring blossoms white and waving in the breeze, casting their sweet smell toward the river. I knew Tiearan Briar lived nearby; he was the one who'd left the note behind when they'd taken Toff.



I was silent as I used claws to sever branches, carefully laying them out on the cleared ground north of the apple orchard. Those trees might not bear fruit this season. I didn't kill the trees, but I needed their limbs to send my message. Once everything was laid out as I wanted it, I misted back to Windle.



* * *



"Tiearan, you must come." Rain, dressed in her working woolens, stood in Tiearan's doorway as he prepared to go out on his errands for the day.



"What is it, Rain?" Tiearan knew it wasn't the army; they were still more than two weeks away.



"We have a message."



"Then why didn't you bring it with you?"



"That would be difficult," Rain looked frightened, and that was beginning to concern Tiearan.



"Lead the way," Tiearan gestured with his hands, and Rain led him toward the apple orchard.



"How do they know our sun-runes?" Tiearan stared at the apple tree branches, sliced expertly and placed carefully to spell out the words. They never taught the sun-runes to anyone—they used those to enhance their power.



"I would have expected a different message—perhaps a threat," Rain muttered. Spelled out in apple tree branches across a clear space of ground were the words, a child is not a bargaining token.



"This frightens me," Tiearan sighed.



* * *



Erland stared at Wylend. "He knew? He switched the bracelets? Wylend, this is bad. Very, very bad. If Lissa learns of this, things could definitely turn against us. Do you know how long it took, and how difficult it was, to convince her to be my mate? I will be tossed off Le-Ath Veronis in a blink if she discovers I knew before she did and didn't tell her. What am I supposed to do about that, Wylend? I don't want to tell her, because of what will happen. And if she finds out I know, things will be worse."



"For both of us," Wylend nodded. He sat in his private study, Erland sitting in a chair before his desk. Absently Wylend brought power to him, changing the whorls in the wood pattern on the surface of his desk.



"And that, on top of Solar Red forming on three worlds outside Alliance territory. They've spread their command base, thinking they can't be destroyed simultaneously on three separate worlds. And they may be right. They are gaining popularity with Black Mist and The Red Hand. You know how widespread both of them are. If those two decide to throw in their lot with Solar Red, then we'll have an epidemic on our hands."



Wylend blew out a frustrated breath. "The Red Hand enjoys torturing their victims to obtain confessions and admissions of adherence to their own faith—before they kill them. Their excuse is that at least the victims go to the Red Hand god when they die."



"Black Mist just kills. Or tortures and dismembers, before killing. They have no god, other than the pleasure of inflicting pain. I still can't believe they're hired as assassins on non-Alliance worlds." Erland shook his head. "They'd kill the ones who hired them as easily as the ones they're hired to kill—and have done it, many times."



"Well, Solar Red has their eye on Lissa, now, and she's off by herself, haring after a kidnapped comesula." Wylend stood and stretched.



"She was planning to adopt him, that's why he was brought here, remember?" Erland felt a bit of anger.



"Erland, I realize that. I know she loves the child—enough to make him her own. Brenten was the one who told me she was considering adoption, and that's why I asked her to bring him to the Ball. Even then, Brenten knew and was manipulating things. I'm not sure how I would have felt, or how I might have reacted, if I knew what was coming. My Council is meeting shortly. Do you wish to attend?" Wylend headed for the door. Erland stood and followed him out.



* * *



"They're as tight-lipped as anything I've ever seen," the General grumbled. He, Solis, Warn and I were having our evening meal. I listened carefully as the General complained about our current situation with Red Hand. "My spies have nothing to report, except the usual altercations. Two of ours were beaten and left for dead this morning. Windle's healer is tending them now. The High Commander will be here for breakfast in the morning, trying to explain all this away."



"So they haven't caught the perpetrators?" Solis asked.



"No." The General wasn't happy about that, I could tell. We'd sat in a deserted corner of the inn, eating roasted chicken and talking when four Red Hand troops walked in and sat at a nearby table. We had to stop talking, then. The innkeeper's daughter, a girl of sixteen, came out to serve them. They all ordered a meal with wine. Their wine came first, followed by platters of roasted chicken with potatoes; just what we'd had. One of the men reached out for the girl when she dropped off their food, causing her father to appear immediately. He told them, quite loudly, that his inn was respectable and he didn't allow anyone to touch his daughter. I was right with him on that one. The Red Hand troops proceeded to grumble loudly the whole time they ate and left after hurling more insults at the innkeeper and his daughter.