Fourth Vector Ch. 15

"The Swabians will follow our army as well, Jack," added Kat. "Don't expect them to sit here just because we're pulling back. I've seen how their army fights. They never let the enemy get too far away. They stay latched on like a parasite, hoping to restrict your movements while they slowly drain your strength away. It's only once you're weak enough that they'll move to strike the final blow."

Jack thought about her response for a while before he started speaking again. "Perhaps we can turn that against them? Use that to our advantage?"

Greg pursed his lips. "What are you thinking, Jack?"

Before Jack could respond, he was already calling for Bazu. "Bazu, can you come in here please? I need you at once!"

The excitable vizier entered their partition of the tent, already looking red at being called in so hastily in front of an audience. He bowed in front of Jack as was customary. "Yes, Your Majesty. How can I help?"

"I need you to find any maps of the country along the eastern coast. Bring to me everything you can get your hands on. Likewise, bring me anyone who has experience with the terrain. Perhaps someone who grew up here. If we pull back the army, I want to know exactly what to expect with the area that we're going to."

"Certainly, Your Majesty, I'll get right to it!" chirped the vizier before rushing on his way.

"What's on your mind, Jack? You look like you're up to something," said Kat with a sly smile.

"I think I have a way that we can get out of this, but we'll need to move quickly."

*****

The King of Sorella was nervous.

It wasn't an everyday type of nervousness that came from ruling nor was it that subtle yet crushing anxiety that appeared right on the eve of battle.

This type of nervousness was more direct than the others. And it reminded him of feelings he hadn't had since his youth.

One fond memory in particular occupied his thoughts while he walked to the spare wing of his palace, one that he hadn't thought of in almost thirty years. It was back in the days before he was king, and even before his father was too. Heron remembered having his eye on a lovely young lady from a foreign house, and wanting to ask her to sit with his family during the upcoming Feast of Malicoe.

To do so was a huge honor for just about any of the noble houses. Getting the chance to sit with the king's family was a matter of high privilege. It also signaled to others the desire of romantic relations on the part of the inviter. And if accepted, acknowledgment was given from the invitee as well.

At the time, Heron had barely seen twenty springs, and he was still quite green in matters of the heart. It was long before he'd fallen in love with his wife, Niamh, and in those days, his heart could still be quite wild and reckless.

The object of his affections had been young and beautiful. And she knew it, which was the worst part about it. A first daughter of a loyal, noble house, she had her pick of suitors simply due to her stunningly attractive profile. The passing of time had made the memory of her name much harder to recall, to the point that Heron struggled to even recall it.

Astara?

Or was it Athene?

No matter the name, her beauty was known throughout the land of Sorella, but only her beauty alone. What had developed on the outside had stunted the inside, unfortunately, and the young woman had a reputation for being more vain than Heron might have liked. Still, he was young and he was in love, a preoccupation that seemed to negate everything else. How silly he must have been in his youth.

He remembered just how nervous he'd been to ask her to sit with him—the sweaty palms, the sputtering speech, and even the redness of his face had all been sure indicators. Looking back, he'd been over the moon to hear her say yes. At the time, he thought it was because she wanted his affections. He didn't dream that it could have been that she saw a way to elevate her status, a method for lording over her main rivals.

Despite the sourness of the memory, the feeling of nervousness stayed with him. It emerged once again when he was first introduced to Niamh, long after he'd figured out the first girl wasn't worthy of his affections. Then it laid dormant for years, evaporated by age and only to be remembered fondly over time.

Until the feeling came roaring back on his walk through the empty wing. The very same feeling now throbbed in his heart as he brought his hand to the door, knocking softly.

"Who is it?" rang a feminine voice from the inside.

"It's Heron," he said more quietly than he intended, the feeling already affecting his speech.Damnit, I'm an old man, not a lovestruck teenager!

The door opened with a sudden start, the inhabitant's lovely brown eyes instantly focusing on him. It made the old king's heart skip a beat to see a genuine smile form on her lips.

"I didn't expect to see you today," said Melora with a beaming grin. "I asked about you to Nikias earlier, and he said you might be busy all throughout the evening."

Blasted Nikias, I should have a word with him, thought Heron.

"No, no, I wish he would've sent you through. Your company would have been greatly appreciated from the tedium of the day," said Heron.

Melora's cheeks instantly reddened. "Does this mean that you're free now?"

"Yes, I am. In fact, I was hoping you'd join me? The moon just rose up above the palace, and it looks spectacular tonight. Would you like to sit outside with me and watch it?"

She nodded eagerly. "Oh my! That sounds lovely. Thank you, Heron."

Only with slight hesitation did he offer her the crook of his arm. Melora looked down at it and smiled again, gently slipping her hand through the opening as they began to walk away from her room. It was already quiet in this portion of the wing, and Heron knew they were unlikely to see anyone but the palace staff. He was just fine with that—he didn't need any more gossip about the amount of time he spent with the lovely woman at his side.

"You feel a little tense right now, Heron," she noted while softly tugging at his arm. "Is something bothering you or was it just a long day?"

"A little of both," he answered too honestly. "It's why I so desired your company as a means to escape the doldrums of ruling. You always seem to find a way to put a smile back on my face."

Melora giggled softly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You always say the nicest things to me. Sometimes I don't know why you give me the time of day."

"I could say the same thing, you know? I find the fact that you like spending time with this old man very improbable."

"Oh, stop that. You're not that old," quipped Melora with a sly grin.

"Old enough to be your—"

"I said stop," she said more firmly, forcing him to look at her. "We're not going down that road again so put it out of your mind. I know who I want to spend my time with and that person is you. As long as you'll have me, this is where I'll be."

Heron didn't answer her and only nodded his head. He was grateful for that fact. It wasn't the first time they'd had that conversation, but her answer never seemed to change. They'd spent so much time together in the weeks that had passed since he first ran into her in the kitchens that it was always at the forefront of his mind. He liked Melora. Maybe a little too much. But he wanted to be sure that whatever he was feeling for her was requited.

And by her actions and words, it seemed they were very much in the same boat.

He led her outside to the small balcony that occupied a quiet corner near his own personal chambers. Almost as soon as she stepped out, Melora gasped at the sight around her.

"By the gods, the moonis lovely tonight," she said while pointing. "I've rarely seen it so bright."

"It doesn't happen often from what I understand," said Heron. "But on nights like these, I always like to enjoy them. It's even better when you can sit out here with someone special to you."

He'd arranged to have a small wooden bench put out here for them to have a place to sit. The narrow room for seating meant that they'd have to be close together, a fact that he'd hoped she wouldn't mind. Nor did she, when Melora sat on one end and patted the seat next to her. Heron sat down eagerly as his body pressed next to hers, and her arm soon looped back through his.

"It's the perfect night for this," she said quietly. "It's just warm enough with a small breeze off the ocean. This beats my own room hands down."

Heron chuckled. "I was hoping you'd say that. We've had just beautiful weather in the last few days. I'm hoping it holds up for the celebration tomorrow." The day had finally arrived for the whole city to celebrate the impending nuptials of Elektra and Nikias. Tomorrow was bound to be a day of festival and frivolity, and the old king just hoped that the splendid weather would hold.

"How is Elektra feeling? Is she nervous?"

Heron shook his head slightly. "It's always hard to tell with her. She does a good job of hiding her true feelings from me when she wants to. On the surface, she seems calm, but I remember when I was in her position and feeling all of the nerves the night before."And oddly enough, it's similar to what I'm feeling now.

Melora giggled lightly. "As do I! I was a nervous wreck the night before my wedding, and it was just a simple affair. I can't imagine having to be the center of attention for an entire city."

"Elektra should be used to it. At least, I would hope so," said Heron. "It just kind of comes with the territory."

"What about you? How does it feel that your youngest daughter is getting married?" She reached out to caress his knee. "Has it hit you yet?"

Heron took a long sigh. "Yes and no. It's what I wanted for so long that I still can't believe it's here. I felt like I pushed and pushed for this, and Elektra tried her hardest to fight me back. She just gave up too easily though, and I'm still in a state of shock about it."

"What do you think caused her to stop fighting it?"

"If we're being honest, I think it was Nikias," said Heron. "I see the way they look at each other. I also see the gestures and the affection they give each other when they think no one is looking. Elektra was so adamant about following her own destiny that all it took was Nikias to come along to show her another path. I'm grateful for that."

Melora gave him a deep, knowing look. "I know how that can be. Waiting for the right man."

He hazarded a glance at her before his eyes flickered down to her lips. They looked so soft, so inviting, that he didn't dare stare at them too long lest he lose his train of thought. When he looked back to her lips, he was pleased to find she wore a small smile. "Oh, yeah? You have experience there, I take it?"

She hugged his arm tighter. "I do. Twice, you can say," she said hesitantly.

"Twice you say. Tell me more."

Melora giggled softly. "Don't be cruel."

"Who me? I could never be cruel to you."

"Then don't make me say it out loud," she said while burrowing her head against his shoulder.

"Maybe I want to hear you say it out loud. Maybe that's the one thing I want the most?"

"And what if I'm too scared to? What then?"

Heron chuckled softly and patted her hand affectionately. "You have nothing to be scared of."

Melora turned her face to look at him. Her eyes were deep, full with emotion. The bright, beautiful moon reflected off them lovingly. "Do you want me to admit how much I care for you?"

"I would. Honestly, I really would."

She smiled. "And why should I give you the pleasure?"

Heron chuckled again. "It should be illegal to tease an old man as mercilessly as you do."

"If you think this is teasing, you have much to learn, my king," she answered with a twinkle in her eyes.

"You might be the death of me with what you're insinuating."

"Oh, I don't think so," she said, bravely stroking his thigh. "I think there's a lot of youth in you still. A lot of energy—at least I hope."

"For you, I'm sure I could muster up plenty."

"Good, you're going to need it."

Heron grinned and turned back to the moon. "Are you just going to play with me all evening or are you ever going to kiss me?"

"What in the name of good Juna do you think we're out here for if not for some good kissing?" she quipped.

"You do a good job of playing chaste, but I suspect you have a wild side to you, Melora."

She purred. "You just might be right. And maybe if you're lucky, you can see some of that wild side."

"Tonight?"

She slapped his thigh. "No, not tonight. But I'll never turn away a kiss."

Heron slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. Her lips appeared tantalizing close to his face, and the tension between them hung thickly in the air. That invisible barrier between them finally destroyed, Heron pushed in further, connecting their lips for the first time.

Melora let out a content sigh as they made contact, melting against him as the rush of passion surrounded them both. Her lips felt just as soft as they looked and tasted just as sweet. It was only when they parted to introduce her tongue did she press harder against him, her hand sliding along his inner thigh. Her tongue welcomed his own, a gentle greeter that beckoned him to explore further. He took the invitation heartily, invading her mouth and seeking to bridge that connection that had so separated them.

Only too soon did she pull away. "Oh my gods, that was . . . I have no words for what that was."

"Was it good?" he asked breathlessly, his heart in his chest.

"Better than good. So very good. I haven't been kissed like that in a long time."

"Neither have I. It reminds me of old times," said Heron sadly, while his mind drifted back to Niamh. It wasn't a place he planned to go intentionally, but when you lived as long he did, it was a habit that was hard to break.

Melora gently caressed his face, already guessing his thoughts. "It's okay. They're gone now, Heron. And they would want us to be happy."

She wasn't wrong. If Niamh could see the doddering old fool he'd become, she would be greatly disappointed. She would want this for him. To spend out the rest of his life with someone who made him happy.

Someone like Melora.

"Yes, yes you're right," said Heron firmly. "They would want us to be happy. Together."

"As long as that's what you want," she said with a vulnerable look. "Do you want me?"

"I want nothing more than to spend every night with you just like this. Sitting here together, enjoying the moonlight, some conversation, and some of your sweet lips on mine. That's my definition of growing old happily. For so long, I tried to push love and affection out of my mind. I tried to focus on duty, ruling, and family. For the first time in a long time, I think I have a chance to be happy again."

Melora beamed with a smile. "You have no idea how that makes me feel to hear you say that. Coming here felt like I was starting over after a nightmare. In a way, it was. I thought my life would be tainted forever. You've given me that second chance. And you weren't some snobby or haughty king just giving out favors. You did it because you cared for us. You could have easily thrown us onto the street, but you cared when you didn't have to. I think I started falling for you at that moment."

"Falling for me, huh? An old fart like myself?"

Melora grinned and caressed his chin. "I think you mean an established, debonair king."

"That's quite the spin."

"I thought you might like that."

Okay, okay," said Heron with a chuckle. "All jokes aside. Do you really mean that?"

"Of course, I've always found you debonair."

"No, not that. The falling part."

She bit her lip in a sexy manner. "I wouldn't tell you something unless it was true. And everything I've ever told you has been complete honesty. Every moment with you, my king, makes me feel like a giddy girl once more who just found out another boy likes her. I find myself singing throughout the day, and I'm the worst singer you could imagine."

"I'm not sure I believe that. I bet your singing is lovely."

Just to shut him up, she gave him a small sample. After about thirty seconds of that, Heron had to struggle not to grind his teeth. "Okay, maybe you have a point here."

She swatted him playfully. "You beast."

"You still like me, don't you?"

"Gods help me, I do," she said with a dramatic sigh.

Heron pushed in for another kiss. Melora captured his mouth eagerly, teasing her tongue along his upper lip. Her movements were sultry and suggestive, an invitation to more if he so desired. Yet there was also a degree of reservation there. A hint of two steps forward, one step back. He got the feeling that while Melora wanted to escalate their kissing, part of her remained scared to do so.

The kiss ended abruptly as she then burrowed her head against his chest and looked back out to the moon. Heron sighed happily and held her tightly against him, enjoying the feel of her body.

"Can I ask you something? Something that you promise you won't think I'm silly for?" she asked finally.

Heron chuckled lightly. "I'm not sure I won't think you're silly but why don't you go for it."

"There's one thing that worries me slightly about us."

"Oh? What is that?"

"Elektra. I worry about what she might say."

Heron slipped his fingers between her hair. "What makes you say that? If there's anyone who could understand sudden happiness, it would be her."

"Do you think she would take offense to my age? I'm scarcely ten years older than her. I'm closer to her in age than I am to you."

Heron thought it over for a few moments. Melora had a point—the age gap between them was significant. He also wasn't sure how she would feel about Melora being in his life, and whether she would see her as a replacement for her mother. It was a sticking point that he wanted to invest more time on. Knowing how hotheaded his daughter could be, he'd have to go about it carefully.

"Let me think about how we can tell Elektra for the moment," he said finally. "Tomorrow is her day. Let her enjoy the celebration of her upcoming wedding, and we shall discuss it after. I'm sure we can make her see that this is the right thing. For both of us."

Melora sighed happily and nodded against his chest. She didn't chance any more words for some time, and together they enjoyed what remained of the evening, letting the moon shine down on the blossoming of a new relationship.

*****

Abel was once again stationary against the rocks that dominated the mountain pass, carefully huddled about ten feet to the right of the main passage and on high alert for signs of the enemy. In front of him, he had a commanding view of the entire valley, a point that was about a three day journey south from their last battle with the enemy clans.

With highly-trained eyes, he once more scanned the valley floor, looking for signs of movement. In this part of the country, there wasn't much in the form of wildlife, and it showed by the lack of anything resembling the living. Even vegetation was sparse, finding only low-lying bushes and cacti that could survive such a harsh environment. There were no humans in sight yet, and for that he was thankful.

Abel had been tasked to guard the flank of the army as it moved south, destined to move out of the way of the converging enemies on both land and sea. While theMuthada were still few in number after their loss of strength in the war, their knowledge of their home country made them excellent scouts to watch the movements to their rear and allow enough time to warn the main body of any attempted attack.

Abel grabbed his quiver, doing a quick count of his arrows before looking back to the desert valley in front of him. It was quiet now, almost too quiet. It had been a day since he'd last spotted any enemy action. He wasn't surprised that they'd left their commanding position in the mountains in order to pursue them. After all, Andalucians were attackers more than anything and wouldn't so easily let their enemies slip away. Yet, it was a bit confusing to see them lagging this far behind. All it meant was that he'd have to be extra vigilant in preventing any attempted outmaneuvering on their parts.