{"id":1497,"date":"2016-11-22T10:19:51","date_gmt":"2016-11-22T15:19:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/zacharybarnes.us\/?page_id=1497"},"modified":"2016-11-22T10:32:57","modified_gmt":"2016-11-22T15:32:57","slug":"chapter-22","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/zacharybarnes.us\/index.php\/chapter-22\/","title":{"rendered":"Chapter 22"},"content":{"rendered":"

Avengarde\u00a0<\/em>Recall Notice:<\/p>\n

We at PandaMonk Publishing apologize for a missing chapter in Avengarde<\/em> by Zachary Barnes. Chapter 22 of the novel is missing (you can read it via the link here). Although the title of the chapter is correct, the chapter text is repeated from chapter 21. A corrected reprint of the novel, which includes chapter 22, will be available for purchase early next week. We ask that if you have a current copy of Avengarde<\/em>, please send an e-mail to cs@pandamonkpublishing.com with your name, address, and phone number to receive a replacement copy.<\/p>\n

Chapter 22<\/a>\u00a0(<– pdf download of chapter 22)<\/p>\n

22: Of Sorrow and Joy<\/strong><\/p>\n

The storms were getting worse.<\/p>\n

We weathered the harshest in the warm tunnels of the sewers, but even
\nthere\u2014sometimes miles beneath the earth\u2014the cold permeated. It breathed in
\nthrough our tunnels, pumped like blood through an artery to the heart of the
\nUnderspan, where refugees bled and shivered and died while they prayed to their
\nAll-Mother for an end. Any end: death, captivity, slavery, freedom, anything but
\nthe cold.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t stand this waiting and planning. It\u2019s going to drive me mad.\u201d<\/p>\n

Aerwyn panted as she paced back and forth across my room. She had taken to
\nvisiting often, or as often as someone of her station could call upon someone like
\nme. She was an important Twyth-ani woman\u2014the first co-Valkr in ten thousand
\nyears of tradition\u2014which effectively made me her dancing monkey, a momentary
\nentertainment to be discarded when of no more use. Or at least that\u2019s how the
\nValkr\u00e6 looked at me. I could still feel the ghost of her kiss, could still feel the sting
\nof our angry farewell days before and told myself that I knew her better than they.
\nShe was distant still, and I suppose I had been distant, too. The sheer hours
\nof preparation that had gone into the planning of the upcoming battle were already
\nmind-numbing, though the damn thing was still a whole week away. And she was
\nthe crux of it all\u2014the keystone player, the organizer and mover.<\/p>\n

I could see her facade of control fracturing with every mounting request, but I could do nothing
\nbut watch in horror as she spiraled into the darkness that waited for her.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you even listening?\u201d She spun, eyes bright with consternation. I
\nstammered, focused, and replayed the last two minutes of her talking.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I expect that Lord Hinrik\u2019s man will be here very shortly. We\u2019ll have
\nhis response\u2014don\u2019t worry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not the \u2018if\u2019 that I\u2019m worried about,\u201d Aerwyn snapped and resumed her
\npacing. I was about to stand and try to comfort her, offer a warm embrace, a
\nfumbling reparation, or otherwise embarrass myself when a Valkr\u00e6 page-boy\u2014an
\nespecially annoying little brat who was fast on his feet but not so fast with his
\nwits\u2014burst into the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cHonored Valkr.\u201d He flew into his obeisance with the particular energy only
\nchildren can muster and babbled his message too fast to even comprehend. My
\nmastery of the Twyth-ani tongue\u2014the Cainntr, as they call it\u2014was adequate only
\nto the point of singularities. I picked out a few jumbled words, but the overall
\nmeaning of the message was lost.<\/p>\n

\u201cSlow down, Sawyl,\u201d I urged, catching the boy\u2019s eye. \u201cNo need to burst in
\nwithout knocking and then embarrass yourself by mishandling your words.\u201d
\nAt my upraised hands, he blushed but took a steadying breath and started
\nover. I picked out a few non-translatables\u2014Hinrik, human, that sort of thing\u2014and
\npieced together the rest.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now we toss the dice,\u201d I muttered.
\nAerwyn turned to me. \u201cWhy do you say that? What have dice to do with
\nanything?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAn old habit, from my gambling days,\u201d I answered honestly. \u201cIf Lord
\nHinrik sent a messenger in person, he must be delivering big news. A Fae-Human
\nalliance would be big news.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI suppose.\u201d Aerwyn steeled herself, and did not sound one iota convinced.
\nFollowing Sawyl and picking up an entourage of attendants, messengers, and
\nbodyguards along our path through the slanting hallways of the Bastion, we made
\nour way down a spiral of moss-covered stairs into the deepest of the depths. Our
\nshuffling feet\u2014unsteady upon the slippery surface of stone\u2014were accompanied
\nonly by the steady and distant drip of water. The whole of the sewers seemed to be
\nmore damp than usual, but I wagered that was from meltwater from the snows
\nabove.<\/p>\n

We stopped in front of the cell; its serried bars were pitted like rotting teeth.
\nAs soon as I saw who was imprisoned within, I could not help but chuckle at the
\nineffectual convention of the rusty cage.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be damned.\u201d I couldn\u2019t laugh around my own astonishment. \u201cIs that you
\nin there, Sigmund Black-Kettle?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBy the shit-faced gods, the Fox is still alive!\u201d Sigmund roared from within
\nthe paltry cage. His frame was but a silhouette amidst the hungry shadows, but he
\nlooked just as hulking as usual\u2014a close rival to Stendahl\u2019s own stature.<\/p>\n

\u201cTaveol…do I know this man?\u201d Aerwyn\u2019s eyes were clouded, as she focused
\non Sigmund\u2019s booming voice. Worry spiked through me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. He helped us escape from the Sons. He told us how to find the
\nValkr\u00e6.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, of course,\u201d she said hollowly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell you all gonna jerk around out there while I rot, or are you gonna let
\nme out?\u201d Sigmund grunted around a wolfish smile. Aerwyn immediately beckoned
\nto the guard who held the keys to Sigmund\u2019s cell; he quickly opened the crossworked
\niron door with an outrageously jarring squeal.<\/p>\n

\u201cReal proper way to treat messengers,\u201d Sigmund smirked.<\/p>\n

\u201cA precaution, nothing more,\u201d Aerwyn assured, and Sigmund stepped into
\nthe light of our torches; I felt my own eyes widen in surprise. He was dressed in an
\nill-fitted tabard of dark blue trimmed with gold over top a clean cotton shirt. His
\ncape was all fur, and well-sewn, and his boots even were soft calf-skin.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve moved up in the world\u2026\u201d I said. He looked quite out-of-place
\nwithout his Reaving armor atop hard-boiled leather jerkins and pauldrons.
\nSigmund tugged the hem of his cloak with one huge, calloused hand and
\ninspected it as if it had just appeared on his person. \u201cI suppose this is what I get for
\nworking for a King,\u201d he smiled slyly and curtsied.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have Lord Hinrik\u2019s reply?\u201d Aerwyn interrupted, all business.<\/p>\n

\u201cHaven\u2019t teached them any manners, have you Taveol,\u201d Sigmund grunted,
\nand gave Aerwyn the cursory up-down. \u201cYou somebody important now?\u201d She did
\nnot have time to answer him before Stendahl stepped forward.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look upon the Valkr, the Mother of the Twyth-ani, the Eternal Watcher
\nand our living vengeance. Show some respect, human.\u201d Stendahl had emerged
\nfrom the shadows of the retinue and stepped toe to toe with Sigmund. They eyed
\neach other, two massive brutes covered in rippling muscle and years-old scars.
\nStendahl bared his razor teeth and Sigmund stepped back, though not out of fear.
\nSigmund sniffed then bent to one knee with some measure of reluctance.
\nStendahl\u2019s wild eye rolled in its socket as he stepped back into the shadows like a
\ndemon into the night. If I concentrated hard enough, I could still see the burning
\norb of his singular eye glinting from the dark.<\/p>\n

Aerwyn considered my long-time friend and partner in crime, eyes laden
\nwith judgement.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy apologies, envoy. Let us eat and drink first. Then, we can hear your
\nmessage.\u201d The entourage about-faced and ascended the spiral stair bolstered in
\nnumbers by one. We swept into a small room hung with low lanterns that guttered
\nin pools of their own wax. The clangor of the kitchens was not far distant, and soon
\na variety of dishes was set out on the small, circular table. Sigmund had quite a go
\nat the fishes and various deep-dwelling snails and crustaceans that clung to the
\nwalls of the sewers, feeding off of the sludge and shit. I might have cautioned him
\nto be mindful of those nasty brown sauces and their lingering burn of the throat,
\nstomach, and asshole sequentially, but the thought of Sigmund Black-Kettle as a
\nprisoner of the latrines made me chuckle. He was undeterred, as the lot of us
\nwatched him devour plate after plate of rice, steamed clams and oysters, pickled
\nsweat-meats, and chicken livers. Sucking the marrow out of a bone that he popped
\nopen, Sigmund stretched and swiveled to face us, apparently satiated. Though I
\nknew that Aerwyn was as anxious about the missive as I was, her face was a mask
\nof even control, tempered by a drop of serenity as she waited for Sigmund to relay
\nhis message.<\/p>\n

\u201cKing Hinrik,\u201d he began, but I interrupted, kicking my voice over his.<\/p>\n

\u201cLord. Lord Hinrik,\u201d I reminded with a smile.
\n\u201cAs if what I call him fucking matters,\u201d Sigmund laughed. \u201cHe\u2019s still rich
\nand paying my salary.\u201d He spat out the chicken-bone. \u201cAnyways, Lord<\/em> Hinrik
\nsends his most amenable regards, whatever that shit means. He says that he is
\npathetic to your cause, er, empathetic I mean.\u201d He chewed his lip and peered to the
\nceiling as if the formal words had been told to relay were scrawled there. \u201cHe says
\nhe wants to help you fuck up, er, devastate the ranks of the invaders, but he needs a
\nlittle something in return.\u201d His gaze fixed on Aerwyn, and the next set of words
\nfell from his mouth, evidently more practiced than the rest of the message. \u201cHe
\nsays that he\u2019ll help, as long as he gets to marry you and make you Queen of
\nAvengarde. To…solidify your alliance.\u201d<\/p>\n

My mouth fell open wide, and my head jerked involuntarily so that my eyes
\ncould lock onto Aerwyn.<\/p>\n

It took her only a moment to respond, and her face twitched but once. \u201cOf
\ncourse.\u201d<\/p>\n

My heart dropped into my shoes, and my stomach whirled and twisted
\nnauseously.<\/p>\n

\u201cThose are acceptable terms,\u201d she concluded, nodding to herself.<\/p>\n

I limped to her side, reeling. \u201cDon\u2019t you think this is the kind of decision
\nyou take time well…deciding upon?\u201d I asked, breathless, head spinning.
\nShe regarded me with her deep golden eyes which flashed with a hint of
\nsadness. \u201cI will not hesitate if it means saving the Twyth-ani. If this union will
\nkeep my people alive, then I will marry Lord Hinrik as soon as possible.\u201d
\nAround her, Valkr\u00e6 eyes narrowed. Their mutterings were discontent to say
\nthe least. Perhaps a few humans and Twyth-ani exiled themselves to be lovers, but
\nan official union, looked upon by the eyes of gods and men? Never<\/em>.
\nI held on to Aerwyn\u2019s elbow. \u201cYou\u2019ll lose the support of your people if you
\nconsort with a human, you told me that much yourself,\u201d I pleaded quietly.
\nHer face tightened as she leaned in with a vehement whisper. \u201cEnough! The
\nTwyth-ani may not like this union, but they\u2019ll be alive because of it, and that will
\nbe solace enough for me.\u201d Her voice lowered even more. \u201cWe can\u2019t all be selfish
\nlike you, Taveol. This is my duty, and I must see it done.\u201d She looked away and
\nconfronted Sigmund sternly.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo I\u2019ll tell him you say yes?\u201d Sigmund asked slowly, looking from me to
\nAerwyn and back again.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour personal delivery of my acceptance is not necessary. My adviser\u2026\u201d
\nShe glanced to me, lips pursed. \u201c\u2026has told me some interesting things about your
\npast exploits. You could be a useful asset in the coming battle. Will you stay here
\nto act as my future husband\u2019s temporary ambassador?\u201d
\nSigmund\u2019s eyes narrowed. \u201cWhat about my wife, my children? How will
\nthey know I\u2019m alive and well?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure that your Lord could see to it that they are protected and cared for
\nduring the coming weeks,\u201d Aerwyn answered quickly.
\nSigmund looked uncomfortable, but started nodding, his grimy white beard
\nstabbing into his too-clean tabard.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood. Gwythyr will find lodgings more…suited to your station,\u201d Aerwyn
\nstated, and then swept from the room, pulling her retinue on her cloak-tails.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn,\u201d I spat, feeling more foolish than ever.<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

She avoided me for the rest of the day. I could feel it, like a buffeting wind.
\nAnd I was a bird, trying to fly into it and getting turned back at every move. With a
\nheavy heart, I skipped supper and moved on leaden feet to my room, imagining
\nHinrik\u2019s pudgy hand clasped around Aerwyn\u2019s slim waist. That made my insides
\nboil, but I couldn\u2019t push the image from my mind\u2019s eye. It festered there
\nstubbornly, like the gruesome and riveting sight of broken bone protruding from
\ntorn, bloody skin, so horrible that one cannot help but to stare in repugnant awe.
\nI had been useless at the planning session earlier, eyes moving over the maps
\nwithout really seeing, brain stumbling over mental obstacles I could normally clear
\nwith ease. This is what it must be like to be of average intellect\u2026how frustrating.
\nMy thoughts had been turned to the ever-forbidden fruit, and I cursed myself for
\nthe delusion of believing that the impossible was possible.<\/p>\n

\u201cBest just get on with it, like a man,\u201d I said to myself. It was something my
\nbrother would have said to me, when we had served in the Sons of Dawn together.
\nOr my father before him. Their steely eyes would have pinioned me just as their
\nruthless smiles haunted me.<\/p>\n

I remained awake much longer than I should have, and though my body
\ndemanded rest, even threatened unconsciousness, I could not sleep. Instead, I
\nperched on the edge of my cot and thought about nothing while massaging my
\nmaimed leg. The old wound was burning more than ever these days. A splotch of
\nblood by my knee stood out against the simple brown of my trousers. It had been
\ndecades since I was dealt the blow that had given me my limp, yet the wound bled
\nlike only a week had passed. Idiot leg, I reprimanded my appendage sternly and
\nwent back to thinking.<\/p>\n

My eyelids had finally begun to droop when my lock clicked, and my door
\nswung open. Lamplight\u2014dying from want of oil and wick\u2014barely illuminated
\nAerwyn\u2019s taut body as she stood in the doorway.<\/p>\n

\u201cMay I come in?\u201d she asked quietly, not meeting my eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d I muttered, and made space on the cot, though she chose to
\nstand. I rubbed my eyes awake and yawned.<\/p>\n

\u201cI came for your apology,\u201d she said, arms crossed.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy…my what?\u201d I sputtered, rising though my leg protested. \u201cYou can\u2019t be
\nserious.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am,\u201d she said, pausing. \u201cYou are always second-guessing my decisions.
\nYou have no respect, and no tact, and I have been advised to dismiss you the next
\ntime you undermine my authority.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWha\u2014\u201d I stuttered, getting a hold on my tongue. \u201cAnd what if your
\ndecisions are foolish? Who would tell you, besides me? Your \u2018advisers\u2019 would sit
\nback and let you wreck this ship yourself before telling you you\u2019re off course and
\nheaded for the shallows, and you know it. They did it to Croethfyre, and they\u2019ll do
\nit to you.\u201d My voice rose more than I wanted it to, but Aerwyn\u2019s hurt\u2014if any\u2014
\nwas covered by her anger.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow dare you\u2026\u201d Her voice smoldered. She stalked for the door, but I
\nlimped across the room and forced it shut.<\/p>\n

\u201cMarrying Hinrik is not the only way to get the help of his armies,\u201d I hissed.
\n\u201cNo? Then you come up with something, Taveol. Use the genius you always
\ntalk about and conjure a solution.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t marry him,\u201d I said stubbornly, ignoring her challenge.<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you always been this selfish? Am I just now seeing it?\u201d Her voice
\nwas shrill.<\/p>\n

\u201cFine. I\u2019m selfish, I admit it. I don\u2019t want you to go marry some fat lord,
\nbecause I want to be with you, damn it.\u201d I found the words tumbling out of my
\nmouth and immediately wished to recall them.<\/p>\n

Aerwyn stilled.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn\u2026\u201d I muttered, suddenly and completely spent of energy, \u201cI\u2019m tired
\nof hiding. I\u2019m tired of this stupid game we play whenever we\u2019re not alone.\u201d
\nI took in a steadying breath. \u201cI just need to know why you keep pushing me
\naway.\u201d I found the strength to look her in the eye, and I saw tears, realized that I
\nwas also crying. Gods, I am so tired\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cI…I need to be focused on the things that matter. Big things, future things.
\nThat\u2019s not us; we could never last. And besides, I\u2019m about to be married, Taveol.
\n\u201cThose are poor excuses and you know it,\u201d I said, seeing how far I could
\npush.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right. I can\u2019t even say it,\u201d she breathed in raggedly. \u201cI don\u2019t want to
\nsay it because it scares me too much, Taveol. I have no idea who I am, and I can\u2019t
\neven sort out which thoughts are mine and which are not.\u201d Her face darkened.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow could I return your feelings? I don\u2019t even know my own.\u201d
\nI slouched against the door, uncaring of the splinters that poked through my
\ntunic and into my back.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right, and I\u2019m such an ass for asking.\u201d I could not meet her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cUs\u2026it could never have lasted. You\u2019re right about that.\u201d I hated the words even
\nas they came out of my mouth. Halfway down the wall, Aerwyn\u2019s arms wrapped
\naround me. I stood with her help.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut when we\u2019re together like this, I forget all the reasons,\u201d she said. I felt
\nher heart beat through her chest in quick, little thumps. \u201cWhenever we\u2019re close, I
\njust want to be with you. I want to be with you now, for as long as I can, because
\nthe only thing I am certain about\u2014the one thing I know\u2014is that I love you.\u201d She
\nrepeated herself, again and again, growing more confident with every retelling. My
\nbreath sucked in and I shook. A single tear dripped from her cheek and on to my
\nshoulder. Her embrace tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I\u2026\u201d My voice shook. \u201cI love you.\u201d The utterance caught me in a place
\nbetween exquisite pain and joy, wrenched me apart.<\/p>\n

With a sudden move, she kissed me, and my existence narrowed to that
\ncontact alone. It was a thing of complete passion, of both sorrow and beauty,
\ncaught at the tail end of what fleeting time we had left together. I kissed back,
\nhardened cheek pressed against her soft one, tears pushed away. We reeled,
\nembracing, against the wall, the door, hands now moving across each other. We
\nkissed, but this time, we did not pull apart.<\/p>\n

She was yanking off my tunic, I realized, still staggered by her energy, by
\nthe joyous grief that wrapped around us. I barely even noticed as she slipped out of
\nher robe and we tottered toward the bed, somehow managing to land on the small
\ncot. I could feel her breath coming quickly now, hot against my bare skin as we
\npushed the sheets out of the way, kissing still. Her soft breasts pressed against my
\nchest as she straddled me, quivering with energy. Reaching down, she unlaced my
\ntrousers and I tried my damnedest to remove them myself, but after a moment of
\nflailing, had to ask for help anyways. We both laughed, but another need was more
\npressing as Aerwyn straddled me again, pushing me into her.<\/p>\n

With a little moan, her back arced, pale skin covered in a sheen of sweat,
\nfiery hair sweeping over the openness of her naked back, where I ran my hands up
\nand down. I hit my head against the stone wall but neither noticed nor cared as we
\nmade desperate love amidst the entangling sheets. Aerwyn cried out for a final
\ntime, sweaty form pressed tightly to me, and shuddered as tiny gasps escaped her
\ndelicately parted lips.<\/p>\n

Our racing hearts slowed and we lay still, tangled in each other, holding each
\nother and not ever wanting to let go. She was crying again, and I knew that hers
\nwere tears of both sorrow and joy. So we held each other while we could, against
\nthe cruelty of the world, and fell, exhausted, to sleep.<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

I awoke to the sound of her breathing, to the gentle up-down rocking of my
\nhand as it rose with her chest. Her warmth was beautiful in and of itself. Though I
\nmust say: I kept inhaling fine little strands of her red hair, gagging noisily each
\ntime. Our ephemeral happiness was an illusion I wanted to cling to, but the world
\nwaits for neither lovers nor murderers, and I was destined to be both this day.<\/p>\n

A frenzied knocking at my door jolted me into wakefulness. Aerwyn sat up
\nquickly and snatched at her clothes, which lay scattered on the floor. We said
\nnothing as we dressed\u2014me more painfully slow than she\u2014and I finished pulling
\nmy tunic over my head when the door burst open. Stendahl barged in, beside
\nGwythyr and Sawyl, whose knocking had woken us.<\/p>\n

\u201cPraise the All-Mother,\u201d Gwythyr rushed the appellation, breathing so hard
\nthat his sides were shaking. He bowed to Aerwyn stiffly. His side was still patched
\nwith poultices, but he moved lithely despite his wounds. I envied his youthful
\nenergy as I struggled to pull my well-worn boot on while my leg screamed in pain.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe have been in a frenzy. We thought that you\u2019d been abducted from your
\nchambers,\u201d he said, glancing first to me, and then to the rumpled bed.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid this human cause you any trouble?\u201d Gwythyr growled. Aerwyn bid
\nhim stand; her face was relaxed, devoid of the tension that had anchored itself there
\nfor so long now.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe is a good friend and adviser; we were just\u2026talking,\u201d she said, and when
\nGwythyr\u2019s eye only narrowed, she added, \u201cI trust him. You should too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVery well,\u201d he muttered and turned. When his footsteps faded into the
\ndistance, I turned back to Aerwyn.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe should really\u2026\u201d I started, but Aerwyn was already nodding.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can go again, but we\u2019ll have to be quick.\u201d She pushed my door shut with
\nher toe and bundled me back onto the bed, kissing me fiercely, and I didn\u2019t have
\nthe heart to tell her what I was going to say.<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

The day flew on fleet wings, a blur of orders and preparations. My role by
\nAerwyn\u2019s side began to evolve into a secondary sort of help. I added my strategic
\ntouch here and there in the forms of various traps, ambushes and informative
\ncritique based on my experiences fighting with and against the Sons. The whole of
\nthe battle formed in my head, and I imagined the human and Twyth-ani forces
\nclashing, imagined the strategic retreats of each Spear fist so as to draw the Sons
\nforward bit by incremental bit, imagined the forces of Eirlys Godtfed and Lord
\nHinrik crashing down on the Sons\u2019 flanks when given the signal, and imagined the
\nmassive slaughter resulting in a rout that was sure to follow. Appear weak, but not
\ntoo weak, and then crush them between our three armies. As long as they think
\nwe\u2019re without allies, they\u2019ll never see the ambush coming. I tried to picture Gareth
\nFlynt\u2019s face as his forces beat a hasty retreat, but all I could see were his steely
\neyes.<\/p>\n

It would be a tight thing, like walking barefoot on a razor edge, but it could
\nbe done. We briefed the Spear-Leaders, giving them their individual orders, and
\nlike good soldiers, they did not ask for the details of the larger picture. They were
\nsatiated with their specific missions, knew that they were but one cog in a huge
\nmachine that must run smoothly if we were to have a hope of victory. All the
\nwhile, Croethfyre hung on the periphery. I tried my best to isolate her from the
\ninner circle, but sometimes she weaseled her way in. Aerwyn appeared not to
\nnotice, and though some of the officers squirmed at her presence, her
\ncontributions\u2014while suspect\u2014were well-reasoned and of sound logic. Still,
\nwhenever hers was the voice advising Aerwyn and the generals, I could not help
\nbut to grip my dagger tighter.<\/p>\n

Dinnertime came, and we adjourned from the map room, eyes blurry, and
\nheads clouded from reading minuscule numbers demarcated in Silje Blackeye\u2019s
\nflowing script. Hastily, the table was set and the meal began. I drank my sour wine
\nsuitably sourly, buried in the rim of the cup, eyeing up and down the table like an
\nerrant shadow. Valkr\u00e6 eyes turned to a commotion at the opposite end of the table,
\nwhere one Fae man had stood, honey-wine out-thrust. His chanting was soon
\njoined by others in what I had come to know as a Twyth-ani drinking ritual that
\nwas apt to get too exciting.<\/p>\n

As a rule, I always look the other way when there\u2019s fireworks. I like
\nwatching people\u2019s faces, for one, but mostly I want to see who\u2019s capitalizing on the
\ndistraction. It\u2019s during this time when I would have lifted a few purses myself,
\nmany years ago, and it was this instinct that gave me a split-second view at a small
\nFae boy. The cupbearer, and the empty vial that disappeared into his tunic pocket.
\nMy hand flew to my dagger, as he approached the head of the table. Looking
\namused, Aerwyn watched her commanders join the chant and casually accepted the
\ngoblet of honey-wine. She raised it to her lips, and my eyes tracked the movement
\nof the serving-boy, as he ran along the walls, hastily trying to find the servant\u2019s
\nexit. In a single instinctual moment, the sliver of deadly metal had left my hand.
\nYears of practice converged in a single point as my thrown knife pierced the boy\u2019s
\ntunic and pinned him to the doorframe.<\/p>\n

Aerwyn stood from her chair at the sudden hush, which was punctuated only
\nby the cupbearer\u2019s terrified thrashing. I watched as Aerwyn glanced from the
\nservant to her wine and back again. She cast her goblet away, splashing wine
\nacross the table. Ignoring the silence, I hobbled around the table to kneel by the
\nboy\u2019s side. His eyes were caught open in surprise, as he struggled to escape.
\n\u201cGive me the vial, or you\u2019ll have a blade for a tongue,\u201d I whispered into his
\near, but when I looked into his eyes, I knew that he had not heard me. With a grunt,
\nI prized his hand open; a small, empty vial dropped with a ping onto the floor.
\n\u201cPoison?\u201d Gwythyr breathed out in fury, dusky face lined with rage. I held
\nthe vial up and struggled to my feet. No words were needed, no explanation
\nrequired. Eyes tracked from the vial to Aerwyn\u2019s wine spilled across the petrified
\nwooden table and the connection was instantaneous. They saw what I had glimpsed
\nnot moments before. With a jerk, I pulled my dagger out of wall post and handed
\nthe child over to the waiting guards. Stendahl flowed to my side, more a shadow
\nthan a substantial being. He helped me balance as I wavered. I tried to look past
\nhim, at Aerwyn, but she would not meet my eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou gain honor, human-Taveol,\u201d he chuckled as the room burst into
\nfrightened murmurs. \u201cBut the child deserved that knife in his neck. Poisoners have
\nno honor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve said it before, and I\u2019ll say it again\u2014I don\u2019t care about your honor. I\u2019m
\njust trying to do right by the Valkr\u00e6.\u201d I caught his eye. \u201cAnd if I\u2019d have gutted the
\nbrat, there wouldn\u2019t be an interrogation, would there?\u201d I limped back to my place
\nat the table but could not force myself to eat as the Valkr\u00e6 officers set down their
\nwine nervously. The meal resumed, albeit with warranted hesitation. Mute chatter
\nsquabbled beneath the clatter of pronged chopsticks the Twyth-ani use to eat.
\nHalfway through the meal, I shoved my chair back, got up, and left. I could feel
\ntheir eyes on my back like pinpricks. Aerwyn tracked me down some time later as
\nI meandered through the twisted halls of the Bastion. I couldn\u2019t help but to worry
\nthat every shadow contained a hundred black-robed assassins.<\/p>\n

\u201cI find myself in your debt again,\u201d she said, taking the lead.<\/p>\n

\u201cDebt? Heh.\u201d I dismissed the idea like the pebble I kicked down the hall. \u201cI
\njust can\u2019t wrap my head around this world sometimes; he was a child. An idiot boy
\nburdened too soon with adult problems. There are still Fae who insist Croethfyre is
\nthe one and only Valkr.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo would you blame the Sons if they tried to kill you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d I shrugged, eying her point. \u201cBut when I look back at the tapestry of
\nmy life, all I see are all the reasons this world is completely, head-over-heels
\nfucked, and I just added one more. That child shouldn\u2019t have to suffer because of
\nhis parents\u2019 war, but now he will.\u201d I tried to still my shaking hands, as I imagined
\nthe interrogation the boy\u2014poisoner\u2014would certainly face.<\/p>\n

Aerwyn took my hands and warmed them in her own. Her fingers pulled
\nback only a little when they found the stump that was my missing digit. \u201cTaveol,\u201d
\nshe called softly.<\/p>\n

I was still muttering to myself. \u201cGods below, I actually had to think about
\nwhether I should kill a child. As if doing it to save you would somehow justify the
\nact.\u201d I couldn\u2019t help but let the words pour forth.<\/p>\n

\u201cTaveol, stop!\u201d Aerwyn insisted, pulling my hands to her chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can see my past too, when the memory comes back,\u201d she murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen the other looks through, tries to take control.\u201d A strange look crossed her
\nface. \u201cMy past is bloodier than yours. And it\u2019s getting harder to keep her out.
\nSometimes, I feel like the pressure\u2019s going to make my head explode.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2026I had no idea,\u201d I said, trying to mask my worry.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course you didn\u2019t. You couldn\u2019t have any idea what this is like,\u201d she
\nsnapped, eyes hardening. \u201cDid it ever cross your mind that you\u2019re not the only one
\nwith moral dilemmas?\u201d She must have heard herself, must have realized that her
\ntone had become razor sharp, for she pulled back. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Taveol. This\u2026\u201d She
\nput her palm to her temple. \u201c\u2026this fight is mine alone. I don\u2019t want to drag you in;
\nI don\u2019t want to hurt you.\u201d<\/p>\n

We instinctually pulled apart at the sound of running footsteps clattering
\ntoward us. It seemed that Aerwyn\u2019s attendants had finally found us. A leader\u2019s time
\nis never their own, especially during war.<\/p>\n

Their clamoring pulled Aerwyn away like a ship into a maelstrom, and I was
\nleft adrift, staring at her retreating back.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you don\u2019t need to fight alone,\u201d I murmured to her, as she disappeared
\ndown the hallway. \u201cYou could always use another blade at your side.\u201d I slumped
\nagainst the wall and waited for the din of the entourage to die down, taking the
\ntime to collect my thoughts. There was nothing else for it, so I dragged myself
\nalong the corridors to the map-room, where I worked until I couldn\u2019t think straight
\nbefore hobbling back to my room and falling to sleep on the floor, because I didn\u2019t
\nquite make it to the cot. One night closer to the battle, one day closer to death.
\nAerwyn came to me that night, found me on the floor and helped me into bed. She
\nvisited the next night, and the one after that as well. Each time, our love-making
\nwas more desperate, more passionate, and each night we collapsed beside one
\nanother as the inevitability of time dragged forward, and the feeling of anxiety\u2019s
\nslow-burn crept into our every muscle and pore. The looming apprehension was
\nlessened during the moments we were together, which made life bearable until
\nonce more reality knocked over our tenuously constructed illusion, but it was a
\ntemporary salve at best. With a start I realized that I had begun to measure time by
\nthe hours that separated us, and I yearned for the night when we could lie together
\nnaked and forget the machinations of fate.<\/p>\n

Remember Taveol, there can be no \u201cwe.\u201d<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think you\u2019ll be able to visit me when I\u2019m Queen of all Avengarde?\u201d
\nAerwyn mused with a small smile, pulling my worn blankets over her bare
\nshoulder. I pressed myself closer, still breathing hard.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomehow, I think that is unlikely.\u201d My returning smile was sad. I\u2019ve never
\nbeen very good at pillow-talk.<\/p>\n

\u201cGwythyr suspects something. I think he may be jealous,\u201d she whispered,
\nkissing me softly.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd right well he should be.\u201d My smile was true this time, and with my
\nmaimed hand I traced the contours of her jaw, her neck, the small of her back,
\ntrying to commit them to memory. Unbidden, my gut churned. Time, our Beloved
\nDictator, had whisked the week away. Tomorrow was not just any other day; it was
\nthe day, the fruition of hundreds of collective hours of planning, a crux on which
\nhistory wobbled. On which side would it fall?<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think we\u2019ll die tomorrow?\u201d Aerwyn asked as I rested my palm on
\nher cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cTomorrow or a hundred more tomorrows, what happens then happens. But
\nthat is not now. That is not what we have. Nothing can take this away from us.\u201d I
\ntook hold of her hand. The words felt foolish as I uttered them, but they matched
\nthe cadence of my heart.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo more talk of death. There will be enough of that tomorrow. Tell me
\nabout life, Taveol. Tell me what you remember.\u201d She lingered on the word,
\nlooking inward. Her golden eyes were distant yet close. Her finger traced my
\nDawn-Son tattoo idly before running down my shoulder to the three old scars that
\nadorned each arm. \u201cTell me about these scars\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, that\u2019s quite a long story,\u201d I said, brushing away from the painful
\nmemories.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d like to know you,\u201d she whispered, waiting for me to speak.<\/p>\n

\u201cI could think of better ways to spend our time,\u201d I said and let a sly smile
\ncreep onto my face. But she took hold of my roaming hands and stilled them,
\npushing toward me until our foreheads touched.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, Taveol. This is important.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh,\u201d I sighed. \u201cI\u2019ll try. No promises, though.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo promises.\u201d She smiled, urging me on with a little squeeze.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, let\u2019s see…I was young. Younger than most of the men who enlisted.
\nMy father was a merchant, and after my mother died the only things he lived for
\nwas his business and my older brother. The one time I saw real pride on my
\nfather\u2019s face was when my brother came home one day with a white sword and a
\nwhite cape; he had joined the Sons of Dawn. A campaign was starting soon, in the
\nfar West, past Orlyn and Isaar, past the Spine, near my homeland.\u201d I paused.
\nRecalling these memories was like climbing into a patch of thistles whose braided
\nbarbs only stung more the deeper I dug. \u201cI had no idea what the Sons fought for, or
\nwhy they accepted my brother and I so readily, since I had followed him, wanting
\nonly to please Father. I read the holy manuscripts, prayed feverishly though I knew
\nnot to whom, mastered the sword and the bow and the spear. But my brother\u2019s
\nshadow was a hard place to live in.\u201d My voice tightened, threatened to betray me.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne day, the Lord-Captain himself visited us and told us that we would begin our
\ncrusade.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGareth Flynt?\u201d Aerwyn interrupted. I gritted my teeth instinctively.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe had been told that our righteous crusade was against an army of
\ndarkness and sin. We only marched for a few days before we found our first
\n\u2018enemies.\u2019 It still felt like an adventure, then, when we pitched camp on a bluff
\noverlooking a little village. It was a Twyth-ani village, though I did not know that
\nat the time.\u201d I tried to control the shaking in my voice, but could not. Aerwyn\u2019s
\nsmooth palm was warm against my face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was a young idiot, but I was still curious: I wanted to see the face of my
\nenemy, so I snuck down to their village that night. I cannot describe my
\ndisappointment: spying on that village, I didn\u2019t see the demons we had been taught
\nto hate, I didn\u2019t see anything evil-looking in any way, I just saw some strangelooking
\npeople. Even then, their home looked much like my own. Imagine my
\nconfusion. At muster the next morning, our Captain told us to prepare ourselves for
\na glorious battle within the week, when the rest of our forces arrived, but I had
\nseen no opposing army the night before, just that quiet village.<\/p>\n

\u201cI doubted the truth in the Sons\u2019 God, doubted of the just-ness of the
\ncrusade. It was not an army of hell we fought, but regular people. I deserted just
\nbefore dusk, but I was naive and scared, and they found me soon after I had run.\u201d
\nI held my left hand\u2014the one with the missing ring finger\u2014for Aerwyn to
\nsee. \u201cThe Sons took it as punishment for desertion.\u201d Aerwyn sucked in a sharp
\nbreath.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Lord-Captain ordered my punishment while my brother stood by and
\nwatched.\u201d I flexed the hand; I still felt a ghostly itch scurry up the missing digit
\nevery now and again. \u201cMy brother was appointed leader of the front-most assault
\nforce. When I got the news, I wrote a letter to my sister; I knew that if anyone
\ncould divert my brother from the slaughter that I knew was about to happen, it
\nwould be her.\u201d My voice trembled despite an attempt to steady it. Emotion struck
\nfrom a place in my heart I thought long-dead.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t…I think it would be best if we slept now,\u201d I managed to say, feeling
\nthe tightness in my chest creep into my throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease,\u201d Aerwyn\u2019s plaint was but a whisper, a flutter of butterfly\u2019s wings
\nagainst the screaming of a gale. \u201cI am here; I am with you. Please go on.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her warming presence shored up my resolve, and though my voice faltered,
\nmy story continued. The tale bled from me, like pus a surgeon has drawn from a
\nsore. \u201cMy sister met me soon after she received my letter. She was convinced that
\nshe could save my brother from his madness, that she could stop him from riding
\ninto that Twyth-ani village. But she was wrong. He rode her down, drove his lance
\nthrough her heart in the name of his God. She…her name was\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAerwyn,\u201d she cut in, shuddering in realization. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry; I didn\u2019t
\nknow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe name suits you.\u201d I stifled the upwelling of memory that threatened to
\nburst forth now that the dam had been breached. \u201cThere are times that I wish I
\ncould forget, like you did. I envied you then.\u201d I brushed a lock of her red hair away
\nfrom her face, back behind a pointed ear.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t,\u201d she said quickly. \u201cIn place of memories, I had nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing doesn\u2019t sound so bad,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing is not bad, nor is it good. It\u2019s just emptiness,\u201d she shuddered. \u201cAnd
\nsometimes, I\u2019m filled with it.\u201d<\/p>\n

I wanted to catch her as she retreated into herself, to snatch her from the
\nfree-fall that I knew was imminent. Without thinking, I pulled her into a kiss that
\nshe returned hesitantly at first, but then with more intensity. Our words were
\nforgotten, our memories put aside, and our consciousnesses condensed. Every
\nbreath we took, ecstatic or sorrowful, measured a slice of time taken from an
\nalready alarmingly small quota, yet we were increasingly passionate in defiance of
\nthis immovable brink, as if we could stand up against time itself with only the
\nenergy of our two worn bodies and somehow force the universe to blink. And yet,
\nwe both acknowledged the folly of it all, understood that if our passion survived
\nthe coming night, it would die of its own intensity when removed from the
\nmicrocosm we had created for it.<\/p>\n

So, we shut our eyes to the future and made love in the face of endless
\nnothing.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Avengarde\u00a0Recall Notice: We at PandaMonk Publishing apologize for a missing chapter in Avengarde by Zachary Barnes. Chapter 22 of the novel is missing (you can read it via the link here). Although the title of the chapter is correct, the chapter text is repeated from chapter 21. A corrected reprint of the novel, which includes chapter 22, will be available for purchase early next week. We ask that if you have a current copy of Avengarde, please send an e-mail to cs@pandamonkpublishing.com with your name, address, and phone number to…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"amazonpipp_noncename":"","amazon-product-isactive":"","amazon-product-single-asin":"","amazon-product-content-location":"","amazon-product-content-hook-override":"","amazon-product-excerpt-hook-override":"","amazon-product-singular-only":"","amazon-product-amazon-desc":"","amazon-product-show-gallery":"","amazon-product-show-features":"","amazon-product-newwindow":"","amazon-product-show-list-price":"","amazon-product-show-used-price":"","amazon-product-show-saved-amt":"","amazon-product-timestamp":"","amazon-product-new-title":"","amazon-product-use-cartURL":"","amazon_featured_post_meta_key":"","_amazon_featured_alt":"","amazon-product-template":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0},"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/zacharybarnes.us\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1497"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/zacharybarnes.us\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/zacharybarnes.us\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zacharybarnes.us\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zacharybarnes.us\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1497"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/zacharybarnes.us\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1497\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1502,"href":"https:\/\/zacharybarnes.us\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1497\/revisions\/1502"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/zacharybarnes.us\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1497"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}