Remnant of Power

Chapter Fifty-one

Yavenna

Over five hundred Dryads set off from Thringevelt. They'd run for a whole day. Even Yavenna felt weary by the time they stopped. Weary, and confused. As she'd run she'd thought about what Channa had said. Her friend had fetched Giryan once Yavenna had dressed, and he'd confirmed what the birthmarks meant, even though the Princess had refused to show him her mark. She'd gone over the conversation a hundred times in her mind already.

Sitting on the grass, taking her chain mail off, her head was a fog of questions. Could it be true what Channa had said? Might it just be that her mother was Ithrim but didn't have the mark? Or if Yeroz wasn't her father – did he know? But if he did know, did he even care about her at all? Was that why he'd been happy for her to marry a vicious murderer? Was it just a convenient way to get rid of her? She lay down to try to sleep. But sleep didn't come.

Pulling off the petals of a daisy that poked up from underneath her great-grandmother's rug, she was aware of Gared looking at her. He hadn't said any more to her about abandoning Mal. In fact, he hadn't said anything at all to her. But right now, she couldn't care less. She knew she'd tried to help Mal. The moment before she closed her eyes she saw an image of Mal's handsome face in the half-light of his room. Well, she'd see him again tomorrow, and Sharva. She'd missed her.

***

They set off again at dawn the next day, but at a slower pace this time. Yavenna knew they'd need all the strength they could muster when they reached Gelenburg.

Some two hours later Yavenna could suddenly see the outline of the city across the plain. A few trees and a wall stood between her and the man she'd run from, only days before. Wasn't this the last place she should be running to? As they ran closer she could see a dark mass around the city.

"It's started," called Channa, and instantly the Dryads stopped singing.

"Are we too late?" Yavenna whispered. Her throat felt tight. She swallowed, but it didn't help. She could see now the darkness was a simmering horde of men. Smoke was rising from the city walls, as they ran ever closer she heard cries, bangs, the sound of chaos.

"We won't be able to tell until we're closer," answered Channa, and she reached over to Yavenna and gripped her arm, "and there's no time for us to rest, we'll have to run straight into battle." Syri, the Dryad leader ran past, shouting instructions. Giryan raced up to Yavenna.

"Stay here, Princess. Wait in the trees. If we don't win you must run back to Thringevelt and ask them to keep you safe." Channa hugged Yavenna, but said nothing. The Princess stood still and watched Giryan, the Talahund, and the others run on. After a few strides, Channa looked behind and held her hand up, then twisted around to run again.

Yavenna stared at Channa's back as she ran towards the city. What was she doing here? She wasn't even eighteen; less than a mile away, two armies were fighting to the death and now her friends were going to join them. Suddenly she saw an image of the ten men hanging on the gallows, and she felt again the texture of the Star King's scroll in her hands. If they lost today would Ulric make her marry him? Or would he just kill her? Her hand grabbed restlessly at her pendant. It felt warm. The Starstone! A shock ran through her as she remembered how she'd broken the mage's Starstone and fought the soldiers. There was no way she was going to stay here! Grabbing the water skin that hung under her mail she took a long draught, then reattached it. She had to fight for herself, as well as for her friends, as well as for the people of Arvad, and for her own people, for Tarhasta.