The Warrior's Assault Read online

  “Oh, shush. You took to flying pretty well.”

  “Except the time I hit a tree…or the few dozen times I hit trees,” she reminded her friend.

  “I was going to leave those out to save your dignity.” Senri gave a pointed glance at Kian. “I was trying not to make it a joke for someone in the room.”

  “He’s your husband!” Mave reminded her. “He already knew, anyway.”

  “I am right here, females. And I was there for one of those ‘Mave meets the trees’ incidents. I recall not laughing as everyone tried to figure out if she was dead or not.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not a complete fool.”

  “Matesh and Brynec were very distressed,” Senri said, a small smile breaking out. “Luckily, the flute and drums are not so dangerous. Let me go get mine. I have a few sets…” Senri wandered out of the room. Mave gave the left-behind husband a look.

  “Who makes them?” she asked, curious. Everything in the village was made by the villagers. There was something precious about objects to the Andinna. She noticed how some treasured their bows and others took time to tend their clothing. It was all hard work, and everyone took pride in it.

  “Senri made her own. It’s why she won’t throw any of the old ones out,” he explained, smiling. “She still has the drums she played the night she and I were together for the first time.”

  “Wait…wouldn’t those be…a couple thousand years old at this point?” Mave knew she must have had the most incredulous look on her face because Kian started to laugh.

  “They are. They’re falling apart and can’t be played anymore, but she keeps them. I think she hopes to burn them with my corpse one day.” He shrugged. “She thinks I don’t pay attention because I’m always out with the Company, but I know for a fact that she has six flutes and carved each and every one of them. She has four drum sets, all of which she crafted by hand.”

  “Why more flutes?”

  “She plays them more. The drums remind her of the War now,” he answered, his words losing the humor they once had. “We lost a son.”

  “I, uh…I know,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. He died early in. Females play the drums of war for the Andinna. As you’ve realized at this point, we follow the tone of our females. When females play the drums…” He took a deep breath. “It’s like being called by the sky itself, just like when we fly. They call, and we answer. Then they lead us into battle. It’s a part of us, who we are. There was a time Senri used to play those drums and…”

  Mave saw the tears shine in his eyes. “Sounds wonderful.”

  “It was,” he agreed softly. “But war changes people. For better or for worse, it changes people.”

  “Violence marks a person.” Mave knew all about it. “I’m grateful she’s taking the time to teach me this when it’s possibly a sore spot.”

  There was a crash in another room, followed by cursing.

  “She adores you,” he replied, chuckling at the sounds. “I think she’s glad to have a female around she can relate to, and you’re one of the Company, not an outsider.”

  Mave couldn’t find anything to reply with, sinking into her own thoughts at his words. She and Senri were a lot alike, something Mave used to learn how to behave in the village. From the very first moment she’d met her, Mave had felt comfortable, like she could be honest with the older female. For months now, they’d talked. They walked around together on the lazy afternoons. She watched Senri drill the village guards, seeing the warrior peek out from the motherly shell.

  And she saw this female, who could use a sword nearly as well as Mave could, with a wonderful, loving family. Willem and Gentrin were just as doting and devoted as Kian.

  It gave Mave a little hope her own family would be just as perfect one day—she, Bryn, Mat, and whoever else. Mave was no longer closed off to the idea. She didn’t know if there was anyone else, but who ever knew? She certainly hadn’t expected the two lovers she had. She hadn’t expected the Company or freedom or a little brother in Rainev. She was open to anything at that point.

  “Kian! Come get the drums!” Senri called out. Mave jumped as the big male jumped up and ran off down the back hallway.

  There was more cursing, more crashing around, but Mave stayed quiet, holding back laughter as Senri and Kian came back out.

  “These are the drums,” Senri declared, putting down a set of five drums, all fixed together with wood. Kian placed a second set in front of Mave. “Those are my newest. You can go as hard on them as you want. I didn’t want you to accidentally break one of my older sets and feel bad.”

  “If she breaks them, we’re allowed to throw them out. Or use them as kindling,” Kian explained, grinning. “She’s pretty against that.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Mave said quietly, running her hands over the leather tops of the drums. It was so taut, she couldn’t get much bend when she pushed down.

  “Hit it,” Senri ordered, smiling. “Use the bottom of your hand, not the palm. Keeps you from stinging your palm.”

  Mave did as she instructed, whacking the biggest of the drums. It sounded off with a wonderful, powerful boom, sending shivers down her spine.

  “And then there’s a flute.” Senri pulled two small, wooden tubes with holes from her pockets. “Here. Breathe gently into the end. You can cover holes to change the note.”

  “Why do the Andinna not have any string things like the Elvasi?” Mave took one of the flutes, looking it over. It seemed so delicate as if she would break it by just holding it. She was afraid she would anyway.

  “We’re not traditionally a horse people, and most of those instruments are made with horsehair,” Senri explained. “The drums are animal hide and sinew with wood. The flutes are just carved wood, though sometimes bone. Very carefully carved. It can take me a year to make one that will last and sound right. But essentially, our traditional instruments are made out of things we have a lot of.”

  “I thought you were some great warrior,” Mave said, smirking. She meant it teasingly, trying to egg Senri into poking her back. “And yet, you’re making flutes and drums.”

  Senri nodded. “They…take the sting of war away sometimes. When life is only blood and death, what are you living for? The beauty of the world needs to be recognized if it’s to be fought for.”

  Mave let those words sink in. Allaina had said something similar earlier. She was ruder about it, but the message was the same.

  The Andinna weren’t just warriors. They cherished beautiful things—their customary jewelry, their music, their festivals. Those were the things they protected and lived for when they picked up their curved blades and flew to fight.

  I don’t know how to be anything but a warrior. I’ve only ever known blood and death until recently, and it’s still most of what I know.

  The thought stung but told Mave the answer to which instrument she should play.

  “I’d like to try the flute,” she said softly.

  “Okay.” Senri didn’t seem shocked by her choice. “I’ll keep the drums out and let you hear a real beat from them later.”

  “You don’t have to…Kian told me…” Mave didn’t know the social protocol to ‘your son is dead, and they remind you of him.’ When she gave a big-eyed glance to the male, he shrugged.

  “I loved my son,” Senri said, leaning over and taking her hand. “I hated the War. I won’t play a war beat.” Her eyes went misty now. “He would have liked you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now you’ve got me weepy!” She started to laugh, wiping her face. “I haven’t been weepy in a decade. Kian, sit there and be quiet. No interrupting the lesson.”

  “Of course, my love.” He found his seat again and leaned back, watching them with a smile.

  “Now, Mave, be sure to breathe softly. If you push too much air through, it’ll make a horrendous sound none of us will appreciate. Make sure it’s a steady breath.”

  Mave brought the f
lute to her mouth, not holding any of the holes, wondering if that would change anything.

  The sound she got from the delicate little flute was just as tiny and pretty as the object itself—light and airy.

  “Good,” Senri said kindly. “Now, listen to this. This is what the flute does for the spring festival.”

  Mave lowered the flute and listened as a pretty tune was played for them, happy and bright. It had a sorrowful note in the middle, then a crescendo followed into something triumphant and gorgeous—something strong from something so delicate.

  And she fell in love.

  “Yes,” she decided again. “I think I want to learn the flute.”

  Senri gave her a knowing smile. “It’s very different from the blade, isn’t it?”

  “It is.”

  “It’s not aggressive or violent. It’s just beautiful.”

  Mave could only nod.

  “That’s why I like the flute more, too,” she whispered. “It’s traditionally the instrument of the priests and bards of our people. Now, let’s get you started. I want to see if you can keep a beat, and we’ll worry more about teaching you specific notes and how to read music later on. I bet I can help you memorize the music you need before the festival without it.”

  “Great. More reading,” Mave said, trying not to chuckle. “I’m still trying to get reading Andena down.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself.” Senri chuckled with her, grinning. “Flying, fighting, music, speaking, reading, and writing our language, Elvasi, and Common. I said it this morning, and I’ll say it again. Remember what you’ve already accomplished and stop beating yourself up for what you haven’t figured out yet.”

  The conversation died as Senri started her instruction about the flute and the piece they would play for the festival. Mave had trouble keeping a beat until Kian pulled a drum set to him and started hitting it, giving her something else to follow.

  It went slowly. Senri stopped her more than once, instructing her how to breathe into the flute.

  “Remember to take a breath sometimes. Don’t think you have the air to do it all without inhaling. There’s a couple of good spots to stop. I’ll point them out as we go along. Let me play it again and watch where I stop to inhale.”

  Mave wanted to be just as good as Senri. There was something so peaceful about the sounds. Mave had heard and experienced music before, but never like this—never intimately, never in a situation where she felt comfortable. There were parties where the Elvasi would pay the Empress for her to attend. Mave had never paid attention to the background noise while she was trying to stay alive. She tried to remember more of it, wondering if it was beautiful then, and she just hadn’t noticed.

  It happened in an instant. Suddenly, she was back in those parties, and her heart clenched.

  “I need to go,” she decided. She stumbled as she stood up, memories assaulting her. “I have to go.” She couldn’t breathe anymore. The room was hot and humid like those parties had been.

  She didn’t hear what Senri was playing anymore. She heard harps and violins. She heard trumpets and pianos.

  “Are you okay?” Senri put the flute down. “Mave.”

  She retreated, tripping on Kian as she tried to make it to the front door. He jumped up as she hurried away. Before she could make it to the door, he grabbed her.

  “What happened?” he demanded softly, holding her before she could escape.

  “Let me go outside,” she begged. She needed the fresh air.

  He released her immediately, and she stumbled out of the door. He grabbed her again, so she didn’t tumble off the porch and down the cliff.

  “Now tell me what happened.”

  “Is she okay?” Senri called from behind him. “Kian?”

  “She’s right here. Mave, answer me.”

  “For a second…it was too much like Elliar. I was trying to remember what sort of music I used to hear and…” she answered. Outside, the cold air burned her lungs as she took long, deep breaths, reminding her where she was. It was all she needed. “I’m fine now.”

  “I’ve never seen you have a flashback before,” he said gently. “Would you like to practice outside? Senri, it might be better for her, getting used to the mountain air and possible weather.”

  “Good idea. We’re using the flutes. We can go anywhere.”

  “Yes.” Mave nodded, her throat tight.

  “Let’s go,” Kian said, letting her go and jumping off the porch. Mave watched him fly as Senri stepped up next to her.

  “It happens to everyone. What did you in at the end?”

  “The room was too hot,” Mave answered. “Elliar was always hot. Everyone was close together, and it was so blasted hot. They had fires going in the summer and didn’t mind it. I couldn’t handle it. I was trying to remember the music…” Mave closed her eyes. “But I only ever heard their music when things were bad.”

  “Well, we’re definitely practicing outside, then. Have you had any other flashbacks?”

  “No,” Mave answered. “Bryn says it’s normal. I’ve been cautious about certain things in the bedroom with them. I never thought music…”

  “Sometimes, when I hear the drums, I’m taken back to the day my son died. Not all the time, but some days I can’t bear it. Some days, I remember the way his commanding officer walked into my tent with Kian, Willem, and Gentrin and told us what happened.”

  “What was his name?” she asked. She didn’t know why she suddenly needed to know. She wanted to know the name of the pain this happy family held close and private to them.

  “Alden,” she answered. “I’ll keep it in mind you can’t play in the heat.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep in mind sometimes you can’t listen to the drums.”

  Senri chuckled. “Thank you. Now, let’s go find my husband and continue our practice. Maybe I can get him to dance for you.”

  “I would like that.”

  They took off at the same time, finding Kian quickly at Alchan’s home, of all places. He was talking to their king as Mave landed, Senri right behind her.

  “Ah, there they are! I came out this way because Alchan’s place is quiet. Figured no one except the Company would ever hear you.”

  “I haven’t agreed to this yet,” Alchan said, but he watched Mave carefully. There was nothing harsh about the stare, more curious than anything. It was still a staredown, but much of the heat was gone now. They both knew the score, and there was no changing it, so they’d stopped growling at each other. Now, they just stared, wondering if either of them would ever bend one day. “The flute? I figured the drums would be more your style.”

  “The flute isn’t my style, which is why I want to learn it,” she explained. “We can find somewhere else—”

  “It’s fine,” he said suddenly. “It also gives me a chance to check in with you more often, though I promise not to interrupt the lessons.” Then he dismissed her, looking over her shoulder. “Senri, what’s Jesvena planning?”

  “Oh, you know, just the best spring festival we’ve had in a decade to make us look good in your eyes,” Senri answered, grinning. “She’s not going to pass up the chance to impress you. You can bet every female in the village is going to try and ride some royal cock come spring.”

  “Hope they’re happy with Luykas,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Or the royal guard. We’ve got…” He smirked like he’d just realized something funny and didn’t want to tell anyone the joke. “Well, we have fewer single males than we used to.”

  “Yeah, their options are down to Rain, Zayden, Luykas, and Leshaun.” Kian started laughing, shaking his head. “I bet half of them will cry because Matesh is taken.”

  “They’ll get over it,” Mave told him, not bothered by the implication. She knew the reputation of her first lover, but it didn’t bother her. He belonged to her, and she had no concern about losing him.

  “Stone cold,” Kian accused. “Just abandoning the young females to their fate.”


  “There’s plenty of males in the village. They’ll find their own,” she retorted.

  “Okay, I’m going inside. You’ll be out here every afternoon?” Alchan seemed like he wanted to run, as if he didn’t want to hear about any of this.

  “That’s right! Thank you, Your Grace.” Senri inclined her head in a small bow.

  The male just snorted and walked away, none of them moving until he was inside.

  “He’s different now,” Mave commented, having noticed the change in their king since they settled for the winter.

  “He’s relaxed. He’ll get up our asses and be a prick again when spring is here and we’re going back out for work. Enjoy this side of him while you have it. He’s still an ass, but he’s less likely to try and kill you.”

  “I’m not worried he’ll try to kill me. I don’t think he can beat me in a fight.”

  “And with that, let’s get back to the music lesson.” Senri grabbed her, pulling her toward Alchan’s waterfall, pool, and stream. “I know he’s not the most likable male, but let’s not talk about killing the king, please. We do need him, as much as many would rather not.”

  5

  Zayden

  “Do it again!” Zayden roared, looking over the soft guards—half panting, the other half looking ready to drop. “Senri would be disappointed in you if she saw this performance!”

  “Here, here!” Mat yelled from the back. “She gave you to us for the rest of winter, and we’re going to give her back guards of worth. Do you know why it was this group? You’re the ones we’ve heard giving her the hardest time. You’ve been neglecting your training, which means you’re ours now!”

  “Maybe we should teach ‘em how to die with honor since they obviously can’t use the swords they’re holding,” Bryn said, just loud enough for the entire group to hear. Mat and Zayden’s taunting hadn’t gotten to them, but that did. Nearly a third of the group replied with nonthreatening snarls and growls. Bryn grinned evilly at the guards, opening his arms in a dare.