Free Guardian Last (Lords of Syon Saga Book 2) by Jordan MacLean Page B

guessing herself at
every turn.  Her instincts had brought her here, and they had told her to trust
Laniel.  She only hoped they would not betray her.
    “My father told me ere we left the castle that, regardless
of the outcome against Valmerous, any of us that survive must achieve the coast
and make our way to Byrandia.”
    “Byrandia!  We envy you this challenge!  Did he say why?”
    She hesitated, then shook her head.  “He did not share the
meat of his thoughts with me ere he was injured, and he has not been able to
speak much since.  He did say something of a prophecy, but nothing of
substance.”
    Laniel shook his head and smiled.
    “We of Bilkar do not partake of prophecies or
predestination.  Bilkar holds Man accountable for his choices, a thing
impossible if Man has none.”
    Part of her envied the terrible freedom and responsibility
that went with such a philosophy.  But as the war hero bound by prophecy, she
had ended the Five Hundred Years War, as foretold.  She had no choice but to
believe in prophecy and by extension predestination.
    But then, until now, she had not considered that if she was
indeed bound by the prophecy, then all her choices, her strategies, her heroic
deeds, everything she had done to win the war had meant nothing. She might as
well have stood afield naked and unarmed.  She would still have lived.  She
would still have won.  She was never free to fail, and so she was not accountable
for the success.
    She felt dizzy at this realization, dangerously so, as if
she stood at the edge of a great dark chasm and teetered at its brink.
    No.
    The prophecy said a hero would come and end the war, but it
had not protected her, and it had not dictated her actions.  She had chosen her
actions at every point. The potential for failure had been real, the potential
for death had been real.  If she had failed at any point, if she had been
killed, then she would not have been its fulfillment, and the world would have
waited for its real hero.  That answer felt hollow to her and unsatisfying, but
she could not say precisely why.  Regardless, a new battle was joined, and she
could not be distracted with self pity.
    “For this reason,” Laniel continued, “at the God’s
Rebellion, B’radik did not grace us with a portion of Her prophecy.”  He looked
at her sadly.  “We fear we will not be much use to you in understanding.”
    “I understand.”  She sighed, turning her thoughts back to
her father.  “Besides, for all of me, it could be just fever dreams and
nonsense.  For the moment, I choose not to dwell on what little he said––”
    …Guardian last…witcher son…prophecy…coming, banishèd…
    “—lest I draw a false conclusion,” she said, willing the
words from her mind.  “Nevertheless, from his tone, I very much have a sense of
urgency about reaching the coast.  So while I understand that it would be best
for us to stay here until he is healed…”
    Laniel rose to his feet.  “You do not wish to lose the
time.  Understood.  But be at peace.  We of Bilkar will save you time and care
for your father.  Consider, Lady.  Your goal is a port to the east––Brannford
is closer than Pyran, so even a bit south?  Windale takes you out of your way
north and west a day’s ride at least.”
    “Aye, it does,” she agreed.  “But we must have those
knights.  We lost so many at Brannagh.”  Her voice nearly broke again with the
memory, and she took a deep breath.
    “We will send messengers to summon Windale to you here.  It
approaches noon now, so they should reach Windale by sunset.  Windale will arm
and provision his people tonight and they can make their ways here in the
morning.  We can use that time to tend your father’s wounds and care for your
horses, one of whom is nearly lame with exhaustion.  You will be able to rest
and gather your wits for the coming journey, and from here, you can go directly
to Brannford.”  He seemed rather pleased with