Remnant of Power

Chapter Fifty-six

Yavenna

The days that followed were a rush of activity. Yavenna's broken arm was healing quickly after several applications of Elixir. Ragnar had asked her and Channa to organise Mal's coronation, and Mal had already held a ceremony to legalize the Ithrim's kingdom, as well as making a proclamation to reverse Ulric's criminalisation of the Talahund; Chieftains Gloden and Zala were on their way from the Hidden Valley. Yavenna, grieving for Sharva, saw that Mal's friends were doing what they could to keep Mal as busy as possible, but she knew that time was the only thing that could chip away at the burden of guilt he bore for not noticing that Yoldas had gone missing on the night of his birthday. She knew what guilt felt like – she had her own heavy burden to bear. She knew as well, that however much she didn't want to go back to Tarhasta, she would have to find some way of going to pay her respects to Sharva's family.

Mal had appointed the Sheriff who'd led the army to be his Grand Vizier. Lord Guthry, as he was now called, was currently counting out a large portion of Ulric's gold to pay the men who had fought so bravely – and Mal had decided to give every slave they set free two gold coins as a gesture of compensation.

As Yavenna slipped her running tunic over her head, she wondered about Arielle. There had been no sign of her or Aunt Breanna anywhere in the castle after the battle. She'd even searched the city for them, Channa accompanying her as she knocked at least one door in every street. Wherever the girl was, Yavenna prayed to Esa that her mother hadn't found out it was Arielle who'd set Yavenna free.

Sighing, Yavenna picked up her water skin and bolted down the stairs. She needed to talk to Channa about the ball that was planned for the coronation, then she was going to run, in daylight, for as long as she wanted.

A small pouch hung from her neck, containing the pendant that she hadn't looked at since Channa handed it to her on the evening of the battle. Her friend had picked it up from the battlefield where Yavenna had thrown it and given it back to her. But she'd just shoved it in an old pouch, not yet ready to think too deeply about it. Perhaps she could scrape the silver off and just keep that. A silver pendant, nothing more, that was all her mother had thought she was giving Yavenna. As far as Yavenna was concerned, that was all it needed to be now.

Mal had dispatched an official invitation to her father to attend his coronation, but she had sent nothing to him herself. What letter could she write to him after what Channa had told her? How could she ever ask him if he was her real father? Sooner or later she knew she'd hear from him, but it would probably be just an immediate command to return to Tarhasta.

Yavenna swept into the great hall, looking for Channa, and saw that Mal was sitting alone at a table, a sheaf of papers spread out in front of him. After the battle, she'd told him about the twenty soldiers in the corridor when she came to set him free. She'd seen in his eyes that he'd believed her.

Mal rose from his chair when he saw her, and took her hand to kiss as she reached him. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. No, there was no way she was going back to Tarhasta, she'd fought for her  freedom, not just for the freedom of Arvad's people. She wasn't going to let anyone tell her what to do from now on. And as Mal kept hold of her hand an ember of happiness started to burn in her stomach. There was no rush to decide what to do next, was there?

Wolf image by Kvaale from Morguefile