The Elder Blood Chronicles – Book Three(186)

Jala shook her head quickly and sighed. “I was feeling so much…” She paused and shook her head again in frustration as she searched for the correct word. “I was feeling so much of everything that night, Valor. Pain, grief, sadness, anger, and my words were morbid. I was being melodramatic I suppose, but no, suicide never crossed my mind,” She stared down into the amber depths of her brandy for a long moment before speaking again. “It was all the enchantment for Finn. I asked him directly when I stood before him and he answered me with blunt honesty. He never loved me at all, Val,” she said. The pain was still there, but it was less than it had been.

“Then he was a bigger fool than I thought,” Valor replied quietly.

Standing, Jala moved around the table and stopped just in front of him. Silently she raised her hands to his neck and pulled the cord of the necklace from under his shirt. She glanced up to find him watching her as she carefully unfastened the clasp and lifted the amulet free of his neck. Her thumb traced along the edge of the black coin as she stared down at the skull imprinted deeply in the metal. She watched him as she sat the amulet down softly onto the table. “Please, Valor. I need you to help me finish this. The thought of you not being there beside me when we finally ride home…” Her voice trailed off as her throat tightened.

Leaning forward, Valor took her hands gently in his and smiled up at her. “I’m sorry, Jala. I didn’t understand. I will always stand beside you, as long as you want me there.”

“Promise me you won’t put that back on,” Jala whispered, her eyes flicking to the amulet.

“You have my word. Should I die on the field, bring me back as quickly as you can. I have no desire to ever see Fiona Veirasha again,” Valor smiled as he spoke the words and slowly released her hands. “It’s almost over, Jala. Another few weeks at the most and you will have your dream. We can return to Merro and put all this behind us.”

“Almost,” Jala agreed quietly, though she knew Merro was still more than a few weeks off. They would deal with the Avanti soon, that was true. The Blights were another matter though. Sanctuary wouldn’t be safe until all of the threats were dealt with. Now was not the time to mention that, though. It could wait.





“You are a son of a bitch, Jail,” Jala announced as she re-entered her tent. Jail looked up from her chair and dropped the reports back down onto the table, frowning at her.

“I really didn’t expect to see you back here tonight,” Jail said with a disappointed look on his face.

“What the bloody hell did you think I would be doing, Jail? I’m newly widowed for the second time,” Jala snapped putting emphasis on the word second.

“That hardly counts. You despised Jexon and everyone in the camp knew that,” Jail countered dryly, rolling his eyes at her.

“And Valor is my friend and nothing more,” Jala returned and motioned him out of her seat.

“When we found you in the tunnels. Valor was half dead and holding you against him as if his own life depended on your survival. He had you cradled in his arms, holding his cloak to your wounds to keep you from bleeding out because he didn’t have enough strength left to get both of you out of there. Rather than use what he had left to escape, he would have bled out beside you,” Jail said as he rose, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Because he is my friend,” Jala said firmly as she dropped into her chair.

“Because he loves you, Jala,” Jail corrected firmly. “And you love him, too, or you wouldn’t have been in the tunnels to begin with. Neph told me about your banshee wail and the mad ride through the fighting to reach where Valor had fallen.”

“Jail, I don’t need this right now,” Jala snapped as she snatched a handful of the papers from her table.

“Do you know what it means when an Arovan man cuts his hair?” Jail asked, dropping down in the chair across from her and leaning forward on the table.

Jala looked up at him with a glare and cocked her head to the side. “That he wanted a haircut?” she asked dryly.

“It means he is spoken for and the women of Arovan know by sight that they would be wasting their time in pursuit of him. The earring Valor wears is called a Widows ring. It signifies his devotion to your son in his culture. Were it his true born child the ring would be silver rather than black,” Jail explained watching her closely as she slowly sat the papers back down on her table.

“He cut his hair when Legacy was born,” Jala said softly as she folded her hands before her on the table and stared hard at Jail.