“Sadly, I doubt it,” said Olvir after due consideration. “Thyran was…what I did was similar to your lethal blessing, as a matter of fact. He should have died already. I just cut the ties keeping him alive. The Twisted are what they are. I doubt I could reverse that, any more than I could get rid of the Battlefield.”
“Mmm. I suspected as much. We’ll have to set up watches when this is over—train a new cadre of spies or wizards or I don’t know what, make sure we’re not caught by surprise again.” Vivian dusted biscuit crumbs off her hands. “The Adeptas will have plenty to do, and I’m sure Letar’s priests will take an interest.”
“Oh, we’ll have our fingers in that pie too,” said Olvir. “It’ll be work for everyone, rebuilding—but better work, to my way of thinking, than we’ve had for the last few years.”
“I’d drink to that, if we had wine left.”
“I’d say it deserves better wine than we brought.”
“Another task for later, then.” Vivian tipped her head back to see the stars as they began to come out. “That’s the only reason I’d hurry—that, and I’d like to learn how they’re all holding up in Criwath. Even if I can’t change what happens.”
“So would I,” said Olvir. He thought of Nahon—and almost immediately had a sense of the marshal. It was the same sort of awareness he’d had of the storms, as if he heard a melody from far away. This was more complex than the storms had been, more solid, and so it stood out more despite being smaller. “I…think I could discover that.”
“Withoutrisking yourself again?” Vivian asked sharply, returning her focus to Olvir in an instant. “My curiosity isn’t worth losing you.”
“No danger,” he said, recognizing her worry. It was a good one: the memory of being lost would chill him for a good while. “I’m only observing, not trying to make changes. And I won’t look very deeply at that. I don’t want to read anybody’s mind by accident.”
“You know what you’re doing,” she said and leaned against him. “Tell me if I can help.”
Olvir breathed in the smell of her hair. Her weight rested solidly on his side. Thus anchored, he closed his eyes and sent his mind out again.
Geography wasn’t important or wasn’t the same. Instead of following paths over the mountains, he traced the bonds that connected him to Nahon, to Emeth, to everybody that he’d left behind. He could sense Vivian’s, too, giving him a clearer impression of many Sentinels and their companions.
“Nahon’s near to Darya and General var Faina,” Olvir said, taking in their signatures and learning what he could without intruding. “They’re all in decent shape, more or less. Tired, of course, and wounded. I suspect Darya’s missing an arm, or maybe an ear. It’s odd, but I can’t tell which.” There was an absence, a major one, that she hadn’t gotten used to yet. That was all Olvir could determine without coming too close.
“Under the circumstances, that’s not bad,” Vivian said.
She was holding her tongue, Olvir knew, not wanting to suggest more for fear she’d inspire him to go beyond his strength. He hugged her tighter. “Katrine’s fine. Emeth’s…she’s weak but recovering. A close brush, I think.” The Mourners would have worked hard in a case such as that, whatever had happened, and Letar’s power left its mark when used in great quantities.
Thinking of the Dark Lady drew his consciousness slightly beyond the group he’d sensed before, into another gathering. “Branwyn… You mentioned a letter from her… She’s there. No serious harm, though there’s a Mourner with her, and—” He paused. The man, as tied to Branwyn as Olvir himself was to Vivian, was familiar, yet Olvir was certain they’d never met. “I believe we’re related.”
“Zelen Verengir, I’d imagine. Lord Verengir, if he weren’t a Mourner. Hmm.” Olvir felt mirth shake Vivian. “They may want you to assume the title, you realize.”
“Gods forbid.” Knights weren’t barred from titles as Letar’s priests were, but the idea held no appeal at all.
“Oh, consider it. I’d make a wonderful mistress for a nobleman.”
“Would you want to be?” Olvir had already been drawing his consciousness back. Despite his reassurance to Vivian, his strength was limited, and he had no desire to test it. At her comment, he returned fully to the spot where they sat and opened his eyes to watch her reaction.
Vivian tilted her head upward so that she could meet his gaze. “I want to be with you,” she said, “as much and for as long as our duties allow. I couldn’t care less about the circumstances.”
“Oh,” said Olvir. His chest was too tight suddenly. It was anything but comfortable, and he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. “Then neither do I.”
When they moved to the bedrolls, not much later, Vivian curled up against Olvir as she’d done the first night they’d kept each other warm. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, rested his other hand on her waist, and watched as she yawned and closed her eyes.
He kept his open for a few minutes. He looked from Vivian, rapidly slipping into sleep, up to the star-filled sky over a land that nobody else had seen for a hundred years.
All his prayers were thanks that night, and he knew his dreams would be sweet.
They were going home.
Epilogue
I regret to inform you, my lady, that House Verengir will have to be content with its current choice of leader. Young Danica has my sympathy, I completely understand her reluctance, but the knights have only recently regained Sir Yoralth. They have no intention of losing him to a lifetime of politics in Heliodar.
Besides, the man and his mission have already become the subject of much rumor here. If he can disrupt a camp where everyone should be better occupied cleaning up after Thyran’s defeat, think of how he’d set Heliodar on its ear!Ifind the prospect almost appealing enough to try and persuade Marshal Nahon, though I know it wouldn’t help, but I doubt you and the rest of the High Council would find it so delightful.
Perhaps I can persuade him and Commander Bathari to come along for a visit when Branwyn and I return. I admit I also would enjoy seeing society deal withtwoSentinels.
