Page 60 of Silver & Smoke
‘Not you, you prick. All the lovestruck warriors!’ Cal exclaimed.
Torj didn’t have the heart to point out that the woman he loved was currently publicly engaged to another man.
‘It’s my wedding tomorrow. I’m supposed to be lovestruck,’ Wilder argued.
But Kipp put a soothing hand on Cal’s shoulder, nodding sagely. ‘I’m right there with you, Flaming Arrow. But we’re free men! The world is at our feet—’
‘Then why don’t you head down there and show the shieldbearers a thing or two?’ Torj interjected, motioning to the drills underway in the arena below.
Kipp appeared scandalized. ‘Are you suggesting that we interrupt the invaluable training of those beautiful women down there?’
‘No,’ Torj told him evenly, masking any note of amusement that might slip through. ‘I’m suggesting that you take your griping and turn it into something productive by contributing to their education. And they’re not all women, though it shows who you’re paying attention to.’
‘I think he’s trying to get rid of us,’ Cal muttered.
‘That too,’ Torj replied.
But Kipp dismissed him with a wave, already tugging Cal down the hill. ‘Come on, Callahan, let’s leave the old men to reminisce. Isn’t that Emilia from the kitchens down there? Who knew she could swing a sword!’
Torj shook his head with a huff of laughter, glancing at Wilder. ‘Sometimes, it’s like no time at all has passed with those two.’
Wilder rested back on his elbows. ‘I can’t work out if they make me feel younger or older.’
‘Older,’ Torj replied. ‘Definitelyolder.’
From below came the sound of Kipp’s distinctive laugh, followed by Cal’s outraged cry. Torj didn’t need to look to know they were already causing chaos among the shieldbearers.
‘To think,’ Talemir mused, his gaze settling on his former apprentice, ‘the great Hand of Death has been tamed at last.’
Malik’s shoulders shook in silent laughter, but Wilder just smiledthat same peaceful smile. ‘Not tamed. Just... found something worth fighting for beyond the blade. Someone.’
The words hit Torj like a physical blow. He took another drink of fire extract, letting it burn away the image of Wren dressed in Devereux finery, standing beside his childhood friend. Instead he pictured her in her own splendour as a crown was placed atop her head.
‘Speaking of fighting... Talemir’s wings rustled as he straightened, suddenly serious. ‘Tomorrow you’ll be married, but the day after...’
‘The day after, we face whatever comes,’ Wilder finished firmly. ‘As we always have: together.’
Malik reached over and gripped his brother’s shoulder. Even without words, his meaning was clear:always.
As the crescent moon glowed above the black mountains, casting long shadows across the torchlit training grounds below, Torj thought about how some bonds – whether forged in battle, brotherhood or love – ran deeper than any darkness that tried to break them.
And so he raised his bottle. ‘To whatever comes, then.’
‘To whatever comes,’ his brothers echoed.
CHAPTER 32
Wren
‘It has always been rumoured that upon the completion of the Great Rite, the Furies required the Warswords to vow never to marry. This has always been hearsay’
– A History of Thezmarr
‘STOP FIDGETING,’WRENhissed at her sister as they stood in front of a mirror in Farissa’s old quarters.
‘I’m not fidgeting,’ Thea bit back, dropping her hands by her sides, only to raise them again and wring her fingers a moment later. ‘Do you think the braid is too...’
‘Too what?’ Wren asked, amused. ‘Too warrior-like? Too Althea Embervale?’ She reached for the flowers they’d threaded through her sister’s bronze hair. ‘The braid is perfect.You’reperfect.’
