Empire of Night

Chapter Twenty-Six

Expecting the Unexpected

His opponent’s knee took him in the gut.

Grunting, Rhydian reflexively caught the leg and threw his forthrider to his back for a quick, downward chest strike.

Too slow.

Cydan twisted and got one knee around his shoulder instead. The shift in momentum cost Rhydian his control over the other leg and before he knew it, he was tasting grass. A swift, good-natured kick caught him on the backside.

Rolling to his back, he cast the man a withering glare, even as he fought to hide his smile.

The two were dressed in nothing but their trousers, their bare skin slick with sweat, though it was far more visible along Rhydian’s near-black skin in the presence of the firelight. It ran in thin rivulets down his back and shoulders, causing the stray hairs that had pulled free of his braid to stick in places.

This sparring session of theirs had been a spur of the moment decision. A little post-dinner fun, as it were. Skies knew they’d all been pent up for days and with the high of a successful hunt still fresh, what better way to let off a little tension?

Dancing on his toes, Cydan winked. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

Beside their impromptu sparring circle, Ayduin snorted.

“Boys, fight now, flirt later, hm?”

Inerys, who was seated beside her, nearly choked on her tea.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Perhaps you could land a proper hit, if you were not so easily distracted by your thoughts, Tanuzet teased, mercifully within his own head, rather than everyone else’s.

While she did have a point, he wasn’t about to say as much.

“I’m working on it,” he muttered.

He had no one but himself to blame for that last bout. He had allowed his mind to stray yet again and rightly paid the price. He could mull over he and Inerys’ conversation after he repaid Cydan’s favor.

Finding his feet, he spit grass to one side and brought his hands up.

“Hear that, Cydan? I think she’s onto us.”

“Nonsense, we were always so careful,” he said, “we’ll have to be more vigilant when sneaking about from now on.”

Inerys appeared utterly mortified.

“They’re not serious, are they?” She asked, looking to Ayduin.

“No, they’re just men,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s all in good fun,” he assured, nearly missing Cydan’s sudden rush.

Muscle memory had him stepping into the strike. He overhooked the man’s leading arm and brought his own around to the back of his neck. Then, he planted his foot upon Cydan’s opposite hip, jumped up to bring his knee around his head and swung with the momentum.

Entwined as they were, they both landed upon their backs, though Cydan was the one at disadvantage, half sprawled as he was. Before he could break free, Rhydian switched his grip from neck to wrist. He leaned back, squeezed his legs around Cydan’s upper arm with his hips raised and pulled the arm straight.

“Look who finally woke up,” Ayduin crooned.

“Just knocking off the dust,” he said with a lopsided grin, “We’ve all been a bit lax in our conditioning lately, haven’t we Cydan?”

Huffing a laugh, he tapped Rhydian’s leg in submission. He released him and quickly found his footing. In the spirit of fairness, he gave the man enough time to recover and roll onto all fours before squaring his debt with a love tap of his own. Cydan rolled forward with the kick, coming up on his feet with a chuckle.

“Are they always like this?” He heard Inerys whisper.

Ayduin grinned, “Please, this is tame for them. Making fools of themselves was as much a competition as the actual sparring, back at Mistwatch. Add a few more men into the mix and the true chaos ensues.”

The young woman blinked. “The men back home sometimes teased one another, but not like that.”

She waved a hand, “Same antics, different medium. For decency’s sake, they probably toned it down whenever you were around. They’re a little less shy about such things in settings like ours. Honestly, some of the women were just as bad.”

“Which includes you, dearest,” Cydan said.

She gave him a feral grin, “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, love.”

“I’ve never heard of people fighting for fun before,” Inerys said.

Rhydian cleared his throat.

“There’s a distinction between fighting and sparring,” he said as he sought out his shirt, “One is violent and fraught with risk while the other is meant to sharpen your skills and promote unity between the mind and body. If you’re not present during the fight, well, let’s just say you're lucky to end up on your backside. Routine practice keeps us sharp. When done in good company, there’s certainly fun to be had. You can learn a lot from an opponent. And a little friendly competition does wonders for one’s motivation.”

He thought he caught a hint of color in her cheeks as he tugged his shirt down over his chest, but it could just as easily have been her proximity to the fire. Heat caused those strange, pink splotches to bloom along her skin as much as the cold did. Or any change in temperature, really. . . And emotion, actually. There was no rhyme or reason to it. None he could discern, anyway.

Was it some bizarre human trait?

Or was it simply a result of her cannibal blood?

He grimaced at the word. What was it Vesryn had called them? Vampires? For whatever reason, he found the term more palatable.

“Will I be expected to participate?” She asked, voice hesitant.

“In our sparring sessions? No,” he said, about to offer further assurance when he noted the spark of intrigue in her eyes, “unless you’d . . . like to?”

Capable as she was as a huntress, he didn’t think she possessed a single martial bone in her body.

“Would you teach me how? To fight, I mean. Or . . .spar, rather?”

He, Cydan and Ayduin all exchanged glances. Was that even wise? She was frightening enough as it was, to say nothing of the potential danger. His fear, though, quickly gave way to reason and dare he say, a degree of trust.

Earlier in the night, she had demonstrated an admirable perseverance he had not expected– a strength of will few possessed at such a low ascension. He was beginning to wonder if it was part of the reason she had been able to rein in her bloodlust as well as she had. Sparring was as much a mental discipline as it was a physical one and the focus required might very well bolster that resolve.

It might also give them a better idea of what she was actually capable of. Thus far, they had based all of their assumptions off their mystery woman rather than Inerys herself. She had demonstrated a frightening strength on multiple occasions, but it was yet another attribute she could hardly control. If they knew the extent of it and how best to counter it through non-lethal means, they would all fare better if anything were to happen down the line. If all else failed, they still had the silver arrows to resort to.

He always carried one of the heads in his pocket, just in case.

You need not decide now, Tanuzet said, lifting her head to regard them, It would be best to discuss the matter with the others first.

He was inclined to agree.

“If your body continues to improve, I’ll consider it.

Her lips thinned, but she nodded, “Fair enough. My coordination could still use some work.”

“You mean felling that poor tree hadn’t been intentional?” Ayduin asked in mock surprise, “And here I was, thinking you had gone out of your way to provide us with these lovely sitting logs.”

A rosy shade began to line her cheeks.

There it was again.

Was it embarrassment that had spurred the reaction this time?

“None of you are ever going to let me live that down, are you?”

Cydan shook his head. “It’s just her love language. If she’s being an ass, it just means you’re growing on her.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said with a degree of skepticism.

“Careful Cydan,” the woman crooned, “you’re on track to have your ass handed to you twice this evening.”

“Is that a promise?”

Rhydian allowed himself a small smile, though he hid it as he turned his back to the fire to find his waterskin. He was perfectly content to let the two sort out their own shenanigans. If anything, he encouraged it. They would never regain any old sense of normalcy, but at least the light had returned to their eyes and with it, some of their humor.

He was about to take his own place beside the campfire, when a single, sharp cry carried across the valley. All three wyverns raised their heads with Vaelor being the first to bray in surprise as Tanuzet returned the call. Cydan and Ayduin were both already on their feet, having evidently agreed to another match.

“Is that who I think it is?” Cydan asked.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Rhydian sighed, sensing Tanuzet’s excitement.

Ayduin groaned, “You can’t be serious?”

He wanted to be upset. Angry, even, but he simply did not have it in him tonight. Wyverns were a notoriously stubborn sort and if he were honest, a part of him had expected Ephaxus to follow eventually. He only wondered how he’d made it past Sorisanna.

“Take Inet and make sure he’s all right,” he said to Tanuzet.

Gladly, she said, shaking out her hide and nickering to the other female.

Moving clear of the camp, the two took flight. Wind swept between the tents, ruffling canvas and causing the fire to hiss. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Inerys staring off in the direction of the wyverns with an apparent trepidation. Clearly, she already knew exactly who was on their way. She was still worried about Ephaxus, wasn’t she?

He moved to take a seat beside her, offering his waterskin.

“My previous assurances still stand,” he said.

The young woman tensed, then quickly relaxed, as if she’d been too preoccupied to notice his approach.

“I know,” she said with a quiet thanks as she took the skin.

“I can have Tanuzet sleep closer to your tent, if that would help put your mind at ease?”

She shook her head, “I’ll be all right, but thank you. It’s just been nice to be treated a bit more like a person again, that’s all. I know he has his . . . opinions of me.”

“I’ll have a word with him when he lands,” he promised, “He’s going to get an earful for this stunt as is.”

Admittedly, he was relieved to have him here, but he couldn’t have a subordinate thinking they could bend rules and orders as they saw fit.

“Should I pity him?”

“Pity his poor back, not his ego. One will recover far more easily than the other if he’s pushed himself too far.”

“What if he has?”

“If that’s the case, he’s in one of the best possible places he can be. I had hoped to have him join after he had more time to mend, but those intentions are hardly relevant now,” he said, resting his elbows upon his knees as he leaned forward on them, “He won’t be able to hunt for himself, though. Do you think you can help the others and I on that front?”

She sat a bit straighter as she smiled. “Of course.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Without another interrogation?”

He was no stranger to difficult discussions, but her confrontation had caught him off guard. He should have seen it coming, though, given his suspicions. The quiet ones were often the most astute and she was no exception.

The poor girl’s eyes went wide and her neck flushed as red as her face.

Embarrassment was one of the triggers, it had to be.

One of her hands slid up the column of her throat as if to hide it.

“Interrogation? No, that wasn’t– was it?”

Rhydian raised his hands with a chuckle, “I’m only teasing, I promise.”

She bit her lip, glancing elsewhere.

“I suppose I did sort of . . . attack you.”

“I’m not holding it against you. If anything, I’m rather glad you did.”

“You are?”

“It helped ease some of the tension, didn’t it?”

A quiet spell settled between them.

“I guess it did, weirdly enough,” she said.

He gave her a small, reassuring smile as he rose and briefly touched her shoulder.

“If I have to give myself some credit every now and again, so do you.”

She cracked a smile. “Fair enough.”

He turned his attention to the star-lit sky.

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me a moment, I have a wyvern to scold.”

As a Nar’Adai, his vision was far keener in the dark than his Adai cousins. Where they might see little more than silhouettes drifting along the stars, he saw the wyverns themselves. They flew in a vertical V with the females gliding above the slower, stiffer Ephaxus. The strain in his posture was enough to make Rhydian wince in sympathy, but he appeared to be managing well enough. His hind end had a tendency to drop whenever he beat his wings, but his hindwings and tail appeared to be functioning largely as they should. His landing would be interesting, but at least Tanuzet and Inet were on hand in case his body failed him.

“Vaelor, tell them to have him land along the western edge of the clearing,” he said.

The male dipped his head in acknowledgement.

There was more room for error further along the knoll. The last thing they needed was for him to slide down the same slope Inerys had a few days prior. Or take out half the treeline along with himself in the process.

Cydan stepped up beside him, rubbing the back of his neck with his shirt.

“He’s determined, I’ll give him that much,” he said.

Rhydian rubbed his brow, “I’ll take determined and foolhardy over the alternative.”

His resilience was nothing short of a miracle.

“You and I both.”

The closer they drew, the more he began to worry, though. Ephaxus’ wingbeats became more awkward as he raised them in an effort to thwart his speed. They scrambled independently for purchase rather than in any form of unison and his tail lashed in an attempt to compensate. Thankfully, Tanuzet was ready. The winds changed and were redirected with newfound strength. They pressed up against his wings and chest in a continuous gust that all but guided him down to the waiting grass.

Rhydian hurried forward to meet them with Cydan close at hand. He sensed, rather than felt the air condense beneath Ephaxus. His wings opened and with a disgruntled hiss, he accepted the cushion of air that spared him. Slowly, he sank down into the grass, wings and legs splayed.

Rhydian raised an arm to shield his face from the brunt of the vented air. Beside him, Cydan did the same. He stepped forward, though, lowering his hand.

“Is that Sorisanna?” He asked.

Sure enough, a familiar, golden-haired sage was perched in the saddle. Her smile was shaky, but she leaned forward in order to pat Ephaxus’ back and sing him her praises while the other clung to the flight bar. Clearly, the wyvern had not made it past her at all. How he managed to convince her to go along with this madness, though, was beyond him.

Ephaxus fully slumped against the ground, utterly spent.

Tanuzet alighted a short distance away, her head already lowered in her scrutiny.

Are you all right? She asked, even as her lips raised to bare her fangs in silent reprimand.

As well as I can be, he said tiredly.

“You did wonderfully,” Sorisanna assured, already climbing her way down his shoulder to find his wing.

He only huffed, sending the long grass skittering away from his snout.

“You are by far one of the most stubborn wyverns I’ve ever met,” Rhydian said, moving to offer Sorisanna a hand.

She took it with a grateful smile.

“Seconded,” she said, easing down, “When I knew there was no talking him out of flying after you, I decided it best that I go with him.”

One of Ephaxus’ rose gold eyes slid in their direction.

She did not give me a choice, he muttered.

Rhydian didn’t doubt it. The woman could be as unyielding as the beasts themselves. When coupled with her ability to fleshweave, she was more than a little intimidating, if he were honest.

“As well as a thorough tongue lashing?” He asked.

His defeated rumble was answer enough.

“Trust me, we had quite the conversation before we left,” she said, knees wobbling when asked to hold her weight.

Rhydian caught her with a steadying arm and she was quick to murmur her thanks.

Her hair had come loose in several places, making it appear more like a squirrel’s tail than a braid. Her bangs weren’t much better, having blown back from her face to stick up and back as much as her ears. She was appropriately bundled in her own flight jacket, which was some relief. The exhaustion lining the finer points of her face drew his concern, but it was nothing sleep could not amend.

“Then perhaps I’ll save my own speech for later,” he said, “You both look terrible.”

The sage flicked his nose and he quickly recoiled.

“Ow– What was that for?”

The sage crossed her arms, fixing him with a pointed look.

“For being a commander instead of a concerned friend,” she said, “You’ll let him be. The pain he’s in is punishment enough.”

He glared.

“I am his commander,” he said, rubbing his offended nose.

“He needs support, not a lecture.”

Rhydian pursed his lips, wondering if this was another one of those inherently dense moments Tanuzet had highlighted in the past. The healthy dose of side-eye he received from said wyvern told him he was all too correct in his assessment. He’d already begun to rethink his approach, when Sorisanna’s follow-up drove the point home.

“I’m not trying to undermine you,” she said quietly, “but is tearing him down for disobeying one order out of the thousands you’ve given him really worth it right now?”

“I gave him that order for a reason,” he said.

“I know. It’s not like I don’t have my own feelings on the matter either, but he was determined. He knew the risks and trust me, I had my own stipulations he had to meet before I agreed to this. In the grand scheme of things, a physical setback is a small price to pay for his life.”

Sighing through his nose, he flexed his jaw. She was right. If anything, he should be commending his perseverance in spite of Keishara’s loss.

“Fair point. What sort of setback are we talking about?”

“Right now? None that I'm aware of aside from the fatigue. With food and rest, it should resolve itself in a few days. If something else arises, though, you’ll be the first to know,” she said.

He offered a nod in appreciation.

“Thank you,” he said, “Let’s get you both settled, then. Cydan, see to her saddle bags, would you?”