Chapter XXXVI - Trust

Hey Everyone....

So, yeah, I think this is the chapter everyone has been badgering me for for months on end now. I hope it satisfies you all! It was an interesting chapter to write; I'm glad it's over and yet it's almost sad it's "done" now. I really need feedback on this one, more than any other so far, really, so please be liberal with the comments. :) I appreciate it!

~Emily "Firebrand"


Chapter Thirty Six

“Be safe, Warrick,” Tancred admonished, surveying the scarred face of the warrior before him. A pang ran through him as he thought of the possibility that he might never see Warrick or these men again. Geoffrey, Richard, Jerome.... So many good men. Friends. His voice was rough as he added quietly, “Give my love to my sister. Protect her as best you can.”

“Aye, Tancred,” Warrick replied, dipping his head. “It shall be done.”

Tancred clapped him on the shoulder and turned to see Geoffrey standing there, his eyes bright with excitement but face betraying slight restlessness. He gave Tancred a quick half-smile. “Bye, Hunter.”

“Geoff,” Tancred said warmly. The boy needs encouragement. Both of them do, he amended as his eyes flicked to Richard, Geoffrey’s quiet, stolid friend. “This is your first official mission isn’t it, lads?”

They both nodded mutely.

“Remember,” Tancred told them with gentle firmness, “you’ve already proven yourselves worthy, or you would not be traveling with this company today.”

“Truly, sir?” asked Richard in a husky tone, lifting his dark brown eyes from where they were fixed on the ground.

“I don’t send incompetent men on important assignments,” Tancred said, hiding the twinge of amusement that sprang up. “Just listen to your leaders and be quick to obey. Warrick and Kristalyn are each skilled in the methods of the task put upon you.”

“Yes, sir,” Geoffrey nodded.

“I know you will acquit yourselves well. You all will,” he added in a louder tone as he addressed the whole company. “My thanks for your service to Aerilya now, when she needs your courage. May your swords be guided by Deus and your valiant hearts entrusted to His worthy care.”

“Aye!” the men all murmured, their eyes alight.

Tancred stepped back and placed his right hand to his chest in a traditional warrior’s farewell. “Deus be with you all.”

“Deus’s face shine on you and give you peace,” came the customary response as the men turned to their horses and swung up with the sound of squeaking leather, stomping hooves, and snorting horses. Then with a thunder of hooves the small company rode out into the nevernight, raising small billows of dust in their wake. Tancred watched them, his heart full. Deus, guide them and fortify them with a holy strength, he prayed. They are warriors to be honored.

Hand upon the pommel of the long knife at his belt, Tancred turned away. His broadsword felt heavy upon his back as he strode back into the camp. Dusk was coming on. Warrick had pointed out that traveling under the cover of darkness would give them even better chances of making it to Kris without detection from either stragglers in Ricald’s forces or the outskirts of Elangsia’s army, and Tancred had agreed.

Tancred paused at an untended fire and poked a stick into the glowing orange embers. A moment later he heard footsteps to his left but did not look up. He knew who it was.

His mother’s voice floated toward him through the darkness. “Warrick has left?”

Silently, he nodded.

“It was the right decision, son.”

“I can only pray so,” he replied softly. “They rest in Deus’s care now.”

He finally glanced over and met Shyla’s eyes, which were lit with the glow of the fire. Shyla had been very quiet when he first told her of his decision to send Kristalyn after the Wild Men, but ultimately she supported Tancred’s position. She understood the logistics of it all as well as he did. Now, she replied to his words in a gentle tone that soothed his spirit. “That is by far the safest place they could be.”

“Aye.” Tancred looked back at the flames. “Have you talked to the other men about the battle? It will likely begin not tomorrow, but the day after.”

“They are ready,” Shyla said firmly. “Armed, prepared, and determined. Tancred, you carried on your father’s legacy well. These men will follow you to the death. You will see.”

“To the death,” he murmured, pensive. “That may well come true.”

“Do not give up hope before you have even begun!”

“I am not,” he replied calmly. “I shall hope and fight to the very end, and I believe Deus is on our side, so already we possess more power than Elangsia does. But the lives of these men, the thought of the families I know they have, and the desolation that will come to both Aerilya and Elangsia after the conflict...that is what pains me.”

“You are a good man, Tancred Ralyn.” Shyla walked closer and put her arms around her son. Tancred held her, offering his protection and strength as a refuge for her. She sighed a little and said, “Your father would be so proud if he could see you now.”

“I hope one day to be a man half as worthy and noble as he.”

“Already you are more than that,” she murmured. Pulling back, she smiled gently. “And I am so thankful for you.”

“And I you,” he said affectionately.

She reached up and pushed back a strand of her golden hair in a gesture reminiscent of her daughter Kristalyn. Dropping her gaze to the ground, she said slowly, “Tancred?”

“What?”

“You know Zoe is planning to go to battle, I suppose.”

Something in his midsection clenched. “I do.”

“I want you to make sure she stays close to you. At least as sure as you can in a battle. I know it will be pure chaos.”

“It will,” he agreed soberly. “But I will try to watch for her as best I can. You and I both know there is no holding her back from the battle, though.”

Shyla looked back up at him. “Oh no,” she laughed softly. “For all her beauty, Zoe is one strong woman. She certainly does not fear using a sword.”

Intrigued, Tancred looked closely at his mother. “You find her beautiful?”

“Of course,” replied his mother, looking surprised. “You have not noticed?”

He had noticed, but it was not the first thing he would have thought of when Zoe came to mind. Yet, Shyla obviously thought of the green-eyed young woman as primarily beautiful and secondarily strong. Interesting.

With a dismissive shake of his head, he glanced around. “Have you seen her recently?”

“No, I have not.” A note of uncertainty crept into Shyla’s voice. “That is...rather odd. She is typically close at hand.”

“Hmm.” Tancred laid his hand on his mother’s shoulder and said, “Rest easy tonight. I will see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Tancred.” After kissing him on the cheek, Shyla turned and walked away, her stride measured and graceful.

After she was gone, Tancred swung around and made his way through the camp. Now the blackness of night completely blanketed everything. The fires dotted throughout the camp created small domes of flickering light that spread their warm glow only so far before dissolving into darkness. The moon waxed bright in the sky and the stars lent their cool, white glory to compliment the splendor of the silver orb.

Tancred hardly noticed it. He walked through the whole camp, greeting the men and passing encouragement along to them. All the while he sought for a glimpse of Zoe. Where is she? He asked several of the men around the campfires if they had seen her, but all he received were shrugs and negative answers. He reached the west side of the camp that bordered Mairbrac Forest. It was dark, but the moon provided enough light for him to distinguish shapes and figures. Immediately he picked out a form that was out of place: standing tall and rigid with her back to him was Zoe.

For a moment, he hesitated. Should he go to her? What was she doing out there by herself? She could be praying, or mentally preparing for the battle. He might be seen as an intrusion.

All those reasons could be true, but something deep within Tancred stirred and kept him in place. Something about her stance...it called to him. It spoke of vulnerability, of a deep need. How he knew that, he could not tell. Deus? Is this You?

Speak to her, my son.

He blinked. The message could not have been more clear if Deus had decided to write it out in plain words on the sky for Tancred to read. Slowly, but with firm purpose, he stepped toward her. Leaves crunched beneath his boots as he crossed the space between them—a distance of perhaps ten paces. He drew closer and spoke quietly, “Zoe?”

She did not turn. “Hello, Tancred.”

Her voice was low, husky. He suddenly wished he could see her face and features. It almost sounded as if she were on the verge of tears. All this and more streaked through his brain in the space of a heartbeat, but all he asked her was, “What are you doing out here?”

“Just...thinking.”

“What of?”

With a deep sigh, she turned toward him. In the moonlight he could see the barest outline of her face but nothing of her eyes or expression. It frustrated him; and abruptly he realized how adroit he had become at reading between her words by using her features and incredibly expressive eyes.

“Many things,” she answered his question vaguely.

“You know by now that answer won’t cut it,” he said with a small smile. “What is wrong?”

A long pause ensued. “I want to go back to the camp,” she said suddenly. She stepped around him to make a beeline for the camp, but his hand shot out and grasped her forearm, stopping her.

“Don’t run away from me.”

He was not threatening, but they both knew his words were a command. “You would force me to stay?” she questioned in a peculiar voice.

“I would hear what is paining you.”

“Do you never tire at confronting and commanding me?” Her defiance was definitely waning. Resignation sounded in her tone. “Let me go.”

“Only if you won’t flee.”

Another long silence. Finally, she whispered, “I won’t.”

Tancred released her arm. “Zoe, what is it?” he asked again, patiently. He felt he was close...to something. What?

He heard her suck in a deep breath and exhale slowly. “Not here, Tancred. I cannot do it...in the darkness.” She sounded tense again. “Is there a fire, a light we can see each other by?”

Relieved that he would at last be able to get rid of the handicap of darkness, Tancred nodded. “Aye. Come with me.”

He turned and walked toward his tent, which was erected not far from where they stood. He opened the flap and she ducked inside to the darkness after a brief pause. Following, he reached for a lamp that sat on the small desk there and fumbled for a match. Flame flared up a second later and the lit candle burned brightly, illuminating the small interior of the tent. There were no seats, only his cot, so they both silently took a seat on the ground. Zoe sat cross-legged about two feet directly in front of him, but she studiously avoided his direct gaze.

Long auburn hair fell around her shoulders and framed her face. She appeared paler than normal and somehow wan, though she did not seem to have lost any weight or been taken with sickness since arriving back at the war camp. No, something unrelated to her physical being was being assaulted. What is it? Zoe, let me help you. Trust me. Let me give you strength to fight whatever is trying to kill your spirit. The longing to help her was so strong it took his breath away.

And he could do nothing unless she opened up to him. The reality of it all was frustrating.

Deus? What now?

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You must tell him. Now.

Zoe fought against the firm instruction in her head with ever-lessening strength. It was time. It was. She just did not know if she had the courage to do what she knew must be done. Please fortify me, Christus, she inwardly pleaded, momentarily closing her eyes. I beg You.

Her lashes parted again and she was met with Tancred’s unswerving blue eyes. The strength of his gaze shocked her, and as she had felt many times before, she feared he was reading into her very heart. Again the urge to hide behind her protective walls rose in her, quelling her spirit and boldness. I cannot do this!

Boldness. The word stamped itself on her mind, forcing her to face it. There was more valor in facing danger than in running away. She could not run. I’ve run too much in my life. She had been close to doing that just a few minutes earlier. If Tancred had not grabbed her arm and stayed her.... She shook her head minutely, her hair brushing against her neck. And yet, why? Why would Deus ask this of her?

There was no response to her silent inquiry, but Zoe knew deep within her she could not refuse or she was acting in disobedience to the Almighty. Very well then, Abba. How to even begin?

She turned her face toward Tancred. “Did you send men to Kristalyn?”

“I did. They left directly before I came to get you.”

“I’m sorry I missed their departure,” she said with a pang. “Geoffrey left, right?”

“With Richard too. Warrick is leading them.”

She exhaled, feeling awkwardness building. Why did words not come when she most needed them? What must I say?

Tancred saved her from having to think that up by asking, “Why did you leave camp?”

Raising her eyes, she said softly, “Because of Egan.”

He appeared mystified. “The pseudo-dragon?”

She laughed humorlessly. “Not because of the pseudo-dragon, but because of the message he bore.”

“From Kris?”

“Yes,” she whispered, slipping back into thought. “No, not even because of the message. Because of your reaction to it.”

“And what was my reaction?” he asked slowly, his voice deep and rich. Why had she never before noticed what a pleasant voice he had?

Ripping her mind from that she replied to his question. “Love. Protectiveness. Dedication.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No. Just the opposite. Once, you see, I had brothers who felt the same about me. They have been ripped from me cruelly, brutally. Seeing you react to Kristalyn reminded me of that...of how life once was.”

Something flashed across his face and he asked in a hard tone, “Who harmed you, Zoe?”

This is where I need you the most, Deus, she thought. Her heart thundered as she thought of what she was doing. Why was the truth so hard to speak? Why was vulnerability so excruciating to unveil? Zoe felt like she was hyperventilating. Just do it. Just say it.

“My name is Zoe Anala Romany,” she stated, her voice low. How odd it felt to speak her full name; it had been several years since she had uttered it. “I am the lastborn daughter of Isaak and Lydia Romany of Braedoch Forest. My family is large—I have brothers and sisters besides Aiden and Ilara, whom you have heard of—but two and a half years ago we were separated by cruel fate and the hand of one who does not serve Deus.”

Zoe looked away from Tancred’s steady gaze, unable to face his inscrutable expression. She had never before spoken of the banishment to any living soul, and it was harder than she had even begun to imagine. Images from her past began to bombard her, but she struggled to push them away as she continued.

“Maeron Duard was self-appointed guardian over us. In a way that has forever been obscure to us all, our parents died not long after his arrival at Braedoch. I personally think he was sent to murder them, but for what reason I cannot tell. Since the day of their death, when I was five years old, Duard lived in the house with us, projecting his dark presence forevermore into our lives. We lived with his subtle cruelty for many, many years. Then, one day...” her voice faltered. “One day, he called us together and told us we must go. Forever. We were never to see each other again. I have relived that moment a thousand times and still I cannot see why he would deal such a brutal, irreversible blow to our family.”

She paused, sucking in a deep breath and forcing down the tears that threatened. Tancred waited patiently, still not speaking. His eyes, however, betrayed his inner feelings, and she could pick out anger, shock, and concern in their cobalt depths. Zoe was slightly astonished to realize that his company did not necessarily feel like an invasion of her memories. It seemed...natural; just as it was natural for her to interpret the emotions displayed in his gaze. Though why she felt that way she did not know.

“Aiden is the oldest of us. He was the strong leader and the one who taught me all I know of weaponry, battle, and determination. I was his Little Firebrand; the one who trailed him constantly and loved him with every fiber of my being.”

“Firebrand...” Tancred murmured, understanding dawning across his face.

“Yes. Perhaps now you understand my pain when you called me that.” Zoe smiled sadly. “After Aiden was Taerith, who was a leader too, but in a way different than our brash oldest brother. Taerith was the wise one; I learned of the stars from him, and how to read them. Daelia was the first girl in the family. She was motherly and tried hard to fill the cavernous hole that had been left when our mother was murdered.”

As she kept speaking in the low, measured tone, wistfulness and deep sorrow began rapidly pouring out of her innermost soul into her words. It became easier to speak.

“Next was Arnan, who you could always rely on to pull a prank but who possessed a strength that I can now look back upon and recognize. I think we all ignored it to some extent. He was also stubborn, defiant, and a bit willful...much like me. Next in line was Ilara, the second girl and one I envied since I was a small child.” Zoe’s lips upturned in a cynical smile. “Ever beautiful, graceful, talented; she was all I aspired to be and could not attain. Yet still I love her and wish more than ever I could see her face now.”

“You think of yourself so disparagingly?”

She stopped at the force of Tancred’s voice. “What?”

“You speak of Ilara with jealousy, but why? From your description, I would say you both are quite similar.”

Zoe laughed humorously. “You have not seen her to compare us. Where she is gorgeous, I’m plain. Her talent is natural. I must strive for years. She is fiery, and confident, and determined. I struggle with fear and wonder if—”

“You are more fiery than any woman I have ever met,” Tancred immediately countered her in a tone that brooked no argument. “You grossly underestimate your talent if you find it lacking, for I know of no other woman who can truly challenge me with sword or wit as you have.”

Zoe’s lips parted as she listened. “But—”

“And,” he said, holding up his hand to stop her, “if for one second you think of yourself as plain....” He shook his head and laughed softly. “You truly have deceived yourself.”

Shocked, she just stared at him. He thinks I am talented? Why did I never figure that out? It makes no sense. I irritate him; he irritates me. He’s not supposed to be picking out my good traits and telling me of them. Something major had shifted; the air changed.

Clearing her throat, Zoe said faintly, “At the moment that subject does not matter.” Biting her lip, she readjusted her thoughts and added, “One year younger than Ilara was Wren. She was another teacher to me. She could track anything through the woods and if it were not for her I think our meal table would have been skimpier throughout the years. She owns some falcons, and with them she chose to defy Duard’s order that we must never communicate. I have received some messages from a couple of my siblings by way of her birds, though it is never enough to satisfy the longing in my heart for their physical presence.”

“Understandable,” Tancred said.

Her eyes flicked back to his. “Understandable...and ever so infuriating,” she whispered fiercely. “Imagine being torn from everything you ever knew and everyone you loved. Wounds are inflicted. They go so deep you wonder if they will ever heal. And that wound was struck right through our hearts, the core of our beings.”

He did not respond, and Zoe continued softly. “Aquila was a year older than me, just nineteen when we were banished. She was small and dark, with a sweet personality and generosity I could not usually comprehend. I think my lack of understanding always kept us from becoming close.

“And finally...” she stopped and swallowed hard. “Finally, there is my twin,” she whispered hoarsely. “Samuel. Sam. We are so different, yet we were as close as close can be. He is gentler than I; not as forceful. He often tempered my anger in dire situations and managed to find a way to cheer me up when I was sorrowful. Without him as my loyal friend and Aiden as my leader and my other siblings as my companions....” She shook her head. Her tone was dead as she finished quietly, “I have been lost.”

She bowed her head, feeling the stark emptiness of her heart rising to the surface again. Deus’s comfort was foremost now, and she clung to that fiercely; but still, the pain of dredging up the past could not be ignored. Tears burned the back of her closed eyelids, demanding to be released. Her throat was so swollen with a traitorous lump that she wondered if it would explode with the pressure. I faced it, she cried out to Deus. I told him. Now what? What, Father?

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She was shaking. Violently.

Tancred watched as Zoe...Zoe Anala Romany...struggled with her emotions, trying as always to be strong. She probably did not see it as such, but her stunning vulnerability in sharing her secrets with him was perhaps the most courageous thing he had seen her do yet. It was stupid of her to fight the tears, but she justifiably was not exactly thinking clearly. Tancred’s head spun with the information she had just given him. She had lived with that locked within her for two and a half years? Without flying to pieces from pain and rage? So many things were becoming clear to him all at once; he struggled to hold on to it all.

He knew why she was so forest-wise and skilled with weaponry. He knew why the falcons had visited. He knew why she could not be a slave, why bondage was so utterly repulsive to her. He knew of her siblings, of her love for them, of her deceased parents—he knew it all and that meant...she trusted him.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, he moved over next to her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

That was it. Tears began gushing down her face the moment her eyelashes opened. Her eyes were bright, piercing green, like Kristalyn’s. She looked straight at him for one haunting moment, then laid her head on his shoulder and wept. It was not a violent display of emotion, but very poignant. Her whole frame trembled at the tempest of sorrow raging within her. She was not petite and certainly not delicate, but Tancred marveled at how small she felt as he gently held her as she cried.

Then, it was over. She quietly pulled away, and he drew his arms away. They sat in silence. Tancred did not feel awkward, but he could see her cheeks were tinged light scarlet. She was shamed by her display of emotion.

“Don’t be,” he said suddenly.

She didn’t look at him. “But I am. I’m an embarrassment everywhere I go. I failed as a Romany, as a warrior, as a sister. I let Duard separate us. I let him do this to my family.”

“That reeks of pride,” Tancred said. His voice was gentle but still blunt. “Deus, in His wisdom, separated you from your family for a reason. You cannot understand that reason...no one can, probably, but we are not called to understand Him. We are called to serve Him.”

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Zoe’s jaw hardened and she did not say anything. For a moment she was angry at him for his direct words. He doesn’t understand; he couldn’t. But then she felt a stir to her spirit and knew Deus was rebuking her. With a sigh she relented and slowly said, “You’re right...I’m sorry.”

His reply was calm. “There is nothing to forgive. And Zoe,” he hesitated, “thank you.”

Eyes measuring, she looked at him. She could feel the remnants of her tears where they glistened on her face but did not want to call more attention to them by wiping them away. Her voice faltered a little but she managed to say, “You have proven yourself time and again to me, Tancred. I do not see how I could withhold from you any longer. It would be wrong.”

“But you could have chosen to close yourself off again. You didn’t. It took strength to tell me this.”

Her breath caught as the expression on his face changed slightly. It seemed familiar to her, as if she had seen the look in his eyes somewhere before but in another person’s gaze. Abruptly she remembered. Lance had looked at her in just such a way when she had first arrived back at the camp from Ruma with Tancred, Rebekka, and Tryna. What does it mean? she wondered with slight confusion and accompanying frustration. I want to understand but I cannot.

Without warning Tancred reached forward and his thumbs brushed her cheeks, whisking away the last of her tears. His thumbs were calloused and rough, but his touch gentle. Quite abruptly Zoe felt as if she were on the brink of a precipice—one step forward and she would plunge into a chasm so deep she could not see the bottom.

“I don’t understand,” she heard herself murmur, as though her voice came from someone else.

“What?” he asked in a low voice.

She shook her head, disengaging their locked gazes. “I’m not sure,” she whispered. “I just...never mind.” She inhaled raggedly and ordered her heart to start beating normally again. Time to change the subject. “Tancred, about the battle: where am I to fight?”

The faintest flicker of a smile touched his lips, but he replied with due gravity. “You know we are going to be with the main body of men, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I will be close to the front with King Jaeger, but all my men will follow me closely. I assume you will be fighting close to us.”

She nodded. “Brac and I will be at the front as well, then.”

“There is some chain mail and leather armor available that will fit you,” he said quietly. “Put it on first thing when we ride out. Without it you’d be killed in seconds.”

“Aye.” Her voice hushed, she inquired, “When do you think it will begin?”

“Not tomorrow. Probably two days from now.”

“And...what will happen?”

“There will be much bloodshed. The dead will litter the field which will be slick with blood.” Tancred’s words were matter-of-fact but his face told her that the thought of what was to come pained him. “And the wounded...the screams of the wounded will haunt everyone. Zoe, war is a harsh reality.”

“I know.” Turning her head away, she rose to her feet and shook her hair back. He stood a moment later and she looked up at him. “But if my friends and my commander go willingly into such a reality, what else can I do but follow?”

He did not smile but looked very solemn. His hand came up and he gently ran his knuckles across her cheek. “You are a woman to be admired, Zoe Anala Romany.”

At the sound of her full name, Zoe’s stomach twisted strangely. This man knew everything about her...and he did not shun her. Nothing had changed between them at her confession except that they had bonded closer. The idea of their unspoken connection was interesting and one that deserved more thought, but for now she shoved it away. Later, she thought.

“Goodnight, Tancred,” she whispered to him, swallowing hard.

His gaze held her. “Goodnight, Zoe.”