Page 402 of Of Empires and Dust
Calen took another step, and Dann shoved him again. Once more Calen stepped closer, but this time he brushed Dann’s hand aside as Dann made to shove him for a third time.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” Dann snarled, tears rolling down his cheeks, his hands shaking. “You should have been here!”
Dann threw his fist and smashed it into Calen’s cheek.
Calen staggered backwards, tasting blood on his tongue. In his mind, Valerys roared, but Calen silenced him.
“You’re too good for me now, are you?” Dann’s eyes glistened, tears flowing. Calen had never seen him like this. Dann had always been the one who others looked to. He was like his dad: stoic and resolute. Sure, he always made a joke of things, but when Calen needed him, Dann was always there, reliable as a mountain.
“No,” Calen answered, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Dann.”
“Sorry? Sorry? You have no right to be sorry. All I needed you to be washere!” Dann threw another punch, but Calen slipped beneath it, moved closer, and threw his arms around Dann, squeezing him so tight his arms hurt.
Dann slammed his fists down onto Calen’s shoulders and shoved at his chest. “Get off me! Get the fuck off me!”
The harder Dann struggled, the tighter Calen held him, until eventually Dann went still.
“I never got to say goodbye,” he whispered through sobs, slowly squeezing Calen. “I never got to say goodbye.”
“I know.” Calen drew a slow breath through his nose as he held his friend close, staring blindly at the woods behind them.
“I never got to tell her that I saw Belduar…” He sniffled, snot and tears mashing into the crook of Calen’s neck. “She’d never have believed me.”
“Not for a second,” Calen agreed, giving a short laugh. “But that’s only because you’re always talking shit.”
“Does it ever stop?” Dann broke into sobs again. “Does it ever stop hurting?”
Calen shook his head, not able to find words, his own tears spilling down at the sight of his friend in such pain. “It never goes away – I wouldn’t want it to – but it gets easier… Having you beside me made it easier.” Calen drew a short breath. “Every time it hurts, I try to think of it like a hand on my shoulder. Like my mam or my dad are there, reminding me of all the good things, all the good memories.”
“I miss Alea,” Dann whispered, his tears finding new strength. “I didn’t want to say it because I know Lyrei hurts more, but I miss her. And Baldon… Why… Why does everyone keep dying?”
“I don’t know…” Calen’s mind sifted through all the faces of those they’d lost. From Vars and Freis to Rhett, Falmin, Korik, Lopir… The list was endless, and it was only going to get longer as this war continued. He pulled a sharp breath into his lungs to centre himself. “Pain doesn’t belong to anyone, Dann. Lyrei’s grief is no less because of yours. And your dad’s pain is no less. You loved your mam. You deserve to mourn her.”
Dann clutched Calen tighter and sobbed. “I think she would have been proud of me… I’m not as much of a fuck up now.”
“You were never a fuck up, Dann. And she was always proud of you.” Calen grabbed Dann’s head and pulled his friend in closer. “But you’re right. She really would have been proud. She has a lot to be proud of.”
Calen shifted away from Dann and climbed up to where Dann had been sitting on the fallen tree. He patted a spot beside him.
“Tell me something about her,” Calen said when Dann had joined him.
“You knew her, Calen.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Calen said, shaking his head. “Tell me something.”
“She used to hit me with a wooden spoon.”
“She’s hit me with the same spoon.”
“She did it with love,” Dann said with a laugh, wiping tears from his eyes. “She always ran her finger down the bridge of my nose when I was sick. Really gently, back and forth. I never told her how much I loved that.”
“She’s listening.” Calen wrapped an arm around Dann’s shoulders and pulled him close. “They’re always with us, Dann. Always.”
Hours later,while the sun was setting across the Antigan Ocean, the Blood Moon clear and full in the sky, Calen stood by the water’s edge, a mixture of dirt and wet stones by his feet.
He drew a long, slow breath in and let it out even slower, the gentle lapping of the waves swashing in his ears. He’d not spent much time by the water in his youth, but on the journey from Drifaien to Kingspass, aboardThe Enchantress,Calen had learned to appreciate the beauty of the sunset across the open water. There was something serene about the way the warm orange glow sparkled silver across the ever-shifting waves.
Calen ran his thumb over the smooth stone in the palm of his hand, a brittle smile on his lips. Vars had made a point of always taking Calen to the water whenever they visited Milltown or Salme. They would skim stones for hours and talk about nothing in particular and everything at the same time. Whoever made their stone hop the most got to ride Drifter on the journey back to The Glade. Calen missed the horse. He hoped that someone in Milltown had found him and treated him well, maybe he was even somewhere in Salme at that very moment. He knewthe odds were that Drifter lay dead in the ruins of Milltown, butchered by the Uraks, but ignorance hurt less.
