The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)
Intent

Darkness.

No matter how hard she tried, Lessa couldn’t move.

Something was wrong.

As if from black smoke Zar appeared before her. Pain was written all over his face. A scream was forming in Lessa’s lungs but she couldn’t release it. She could barely breathe.

Red, dark, and fresh blood bloomed on Zar’s chest, staining a heinous blossom on his shirt.

“Hey, wake up,” Zar said, shaking her slightly. A jolt brought Lessa back into consciousness.

“Are you alright? You were shaking.”

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Just a bad dream.”

In an effort to hide her quivering hands Lessa stood, looking around at the late afternoon mountainscape before her.

“When are we leaving?” she said with her back to him.

Quiet air answered Lessa.

When she turned around Zar had not stirred from where he sat against Storm.

Storm’s eyes glanced from Lessa, to Zar and back.

“What?” she asked him.

He looked away, his eyes resting on an herb patch, but he clearly wasn’t looking at them.

“Zar,” Lessa pressed.

He finally stood and closed the distance between them with one step. “What if we just left together? We give up on this, we could make a life, you and I, and Storm, wherever we wanted.”

No words could describe Lessa’s shock.

“What?”

He grabbed one her hand and held it up, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles.

Lessa's words came halted and slow, “You don’t mean that."

“I do mean it. Let’s leave all of this behind.”

“Zar, what about Kathardra?”

“You are my only care now.”

Lessa pulled her hand away, she wrapped her arms around herself, and turned away from him.

“You don’t mean that. There is no future where you can walk away from your responsibilities… And Zar, I have to go home. Whatever this is, between us, it can’t last.

“I have a family, who probably think I’m dead. And you have Kathardra. I... This… You aren’t giving up Kathardra for me.” A silent dry sob convulsed Lessa’s body.

His voice steeled. “I’m not putting you through that kind of danger again.”

She whirled on him. “That choice is mine, and mine alone!”

The surprise, and recognition her words sparked stunned them both. The silence lasted a long time but Lessa finally broke it.

“Do you think…?”

Mutely, Zar nodded.

“Let’s leave tomorrow.”

“You still need time to recover.”

Lessa scoffed, “I’m fine.”

A long slow breath filled Zar’s lungs. Lessa tried to not smile, knowing it was him surrendering to her stubbornness.

“I will not give up on us,” he finally said.

Warmth and sadness warred within Lessa.

She had the dream again. It was still full dark when Lessa shook off her blankets. No more sleep would find her tonight, but that hardly mattered. They would be leaving in a few hours. Lessa checked her saddle bags, to be sure they carried all her meager possessions and rested them on Storm. Zar would be riding her horse, his was lost, likely never to be seen by them again.

They were only a week’s ride from Geldur, shorter if they really pushed, but they wouldn’t. They needed to be well-rested when they reached the Mountain.

They all bid their farewells to Ash, Lessa atop Storm, and the men on horseback.

Ash did not say anything, she looked at Lessa with pursed lips and waved a dismissive hand before she slammed her door.

“I think I found someone I like less than you,” Lessa told Cinder.

A full belly laugh heaved from Cinder and he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “You would be the first, in a very long time, to prefer me to my sister.” He was still chuckling when Storm took to the sky.

That evening when they stopped to camp Lessa pulled her sword from where it was tied, bare, to her saddle.

“Come on,” she beckoned to Zar, needing to blow off some physical steam. Reluctance was plain on his face. Lessa cocked her hip and planted her fist on it. “You can’t treat me like I’m broken forever.”

He sighed and stood, giving one of the sparring chains to Lessa.

She didn’t wait for him, Lessa launched herself at Zar swinging with furious speed, he backed away and blocked her sword, just barely. They made their way around the campfire, both Cinder and Worran watched warily.

After many minutes of back and forth, circling trees, Storm, and the fire Lessa planted her foot on Zar’s leg, but instead of kicking she leaped up to his shoulders. She swung around until she had his arm tangled in her legs and her sword was at his neck. They both hit the ground but she had already won.

“I did not teach you that.” He rubbed his throat.

Lessa giggled as she released his sword arm and rose from the dirt.

Zar pushed himself to a seated position and rested his arms on his knees, a small reflective frown on his face.

“That was… Different.” He finally said, turning to eye her, his chest heaving.

She thought about it for a moment, “I feel different.” Though she couldn’t say how. Maybe it was because she had actually fought enemies now, it had sparked a drive to win in her, not just for the sake of competition. But because in a real fight winning meant living.

Or maybe it was because she had met Golathar. Because she had been on the precipice of death Being that close to the black could sow seeds of desperation, to make one understand how high the stakes were.

“Would you let me go to the castle alone?” Lessa asked Storm.

“No.”

Before sunset, they would reach the foothills just north of the Mountain. Without fail every night Lessa laid her head down to sleep; she was awoken by the dream of Zar bleeding out. Last night it escalated again. The vision of a sword protruding from his chest and releasing his lifeblood seemed to be glued to the inside of her eyelids.

Lessa was dizzy with exhaustion, even though the flying was easy today Storm had insisted Lessa fasten her legs into the saddle straps so that she wouldn’t fall. Of course, Lessa was offended, but she saw the sense in it.

Sleepiness weighed heavily on Lessa when they landed for the night. It was dark and the air was chilly, the three men were hunched in their cloaks against the cold while they set up small tents and laid out bedrolls.

“Zar, can I talk to you?” Lessa asked once everything was settled.

He nodded and followed as Lessa led him into the relative privacy of the forest.

“Probably twenty-four hours from now, huh?”

Zar nodded and his breath clouded in front of his mouth when he said “Yes.”

“What would it take for you to stay behind?”

“What?”

“Zar, I’ve been having these dreams, I can’t shake the feeling that something is going to happen to you…”

He frowned at her and gathered his cloak even closer about him. “Is that why you haven’t been sleeping?”

Lessa bit her lip and nodded her head.

“Its just-”

“No, it’s not just nerves. Or whatever.” Her head felt foggy as she tried to find the right words. “It feels like more than a dream. You can’t go.”

A rueful smile curled Zar’s lips. “You’re allowed to protect me, but I can’t protect you?”

“Ugh, that’s not it. I just. What If I swore to stay in Kathardra, would you stay behind?”

He stared at her for a long moment. A brief hope sprouted in Lessa.

“No,” he finally said.

Lessa’s shoulders fell and she felt her eyes go moist, without the benefit of rest she was experiencing difficulty in controlling her emotions.

“Come with me.” Zar took her hand and pulled her back toward camp.

“What is it?” Lessa asked, as Zar turned her toward him and pulled her into a hug.

She felt a hand touch the back of her head and she heard the first part of a sleeping spell.

Darkness.

No matter how hard she tried, Lessa couldn’t move.

Something was wrong.

As if from black smoke Zar appeared before her. Pain was written all over his face. A scream was forming in Lessa’s lungs but she couldn’t release it. She could barely breathe.

Red, dark, and fresh blood bloomed on Zar’s chest, staining a heinous blossom on his shirt as a sword protruded forward from just under his ribs.

A hand grasped Zar’s shoulder from behind and a face appeared over his shoulder, an odious smile curled the lips of Golathar.

Her own scream woke her.

Lessa sat bolt upright on Storm’s legs, Zar kneeled next to her, clear concern was his expression. With a heaving chest, Lessa reached for her waterskin and drained its contents.

When she looked around Worran and Cinder were looking at her just as worried as Zar.

“What time is it?” she asked, noticing that it was full light out. She felt like she had slept into a different year. “You put me to sleep!” she pointed an accusing finger at Cinder.

“He told me to,” Cinder replied, unperturbed, pointing at Zar.

“You hadn’t slept in days,” Zar said apologetically.

“Don’t do that again,” Lessa growled, still trying to shake off the fear from her dream. She stood and started pacing the camp, she stopped, planted her fists on her hips, and glanced around at the men.

“This time, we are doing this my way.”

“You’re feeling better, aren’t you,” Worran said under his breath but sat down attentively.

Lessa glowered at him before she responded. “Sneaking into the castle through a door on the ground floor, hoping we can get some maid or scullion to show us a way in, isn’t going to work.”

“Storm can’t carry all of us,” Zar said, bringing up his previous objection.

“No, she can’t. But she can take two at a time.”

“If they were keeping watch for a dragon before, they’ve doubled or tripled the watch. They will see her coming… Twice.”

“No,” Lessa said firmly. “They won’t. Cinder taught me to control my power, but he also made me afraid to unleash it. No more.”

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