The Huntsman of Adamos (Quartet)- draft
HOME IS WHERE TWO HEARTS BEAT

CH HOME IS WHERE TWO HEARTS BEAT

Lord Yurieth of the House of Adamos stepped off the transport that carried him home for three of every ten-day week. Willow was sitting at the station with her sister, Lily. Their mother was nowhere in sight.

“Father!” they shouted as one and ran to embrace him. They were the light in his world. They were the beating of his heart, and even though, he struggled to love their mother or even like her, his love for them made every fight and angry word worth it.

“Where is your mother? You are not to wander about by yourselves,” he scolded. The things he had seen on Xelusia had made him paranoid about the safety of his daughters.

“She is with a sick person,” Willow answered.

Lily nodded, then said quietly, “We did not want you to walk home alone, Father.”

“My thanks, my daughters.”

Yurieth missed the excitement of the battlefield and his work spying on the enemy but teaching the next generation of Huntsmen was a challenge he enjoyed. In the last 70 years, he had tripled the ranks of the Huntsmen, and Regulus was using the specialized warriors to wreak havoc on the Xelusians.

Masters Meteriel and Axion had even joined Yurieth at the Academies to teach. There were now over 100 journeymen huntsmen at the warfront and that many at the three schools where the master huntsmen taught. Axion’s sister, Meteriel’s sealed one, was pregnant for the first time, and both the huntsman and the assassin were falling over themselves to keep her happy. It made Yurieth regret that he had missed Roserae’s pregnancy.

Arriving at their lakeshore home, a miniature version of his father’s castle, Yurieth began to make dinner for his daughters. It was late when Roserae came home, the girls were asleep. Sitting on the porch in the pale glowstone light, Yurieth was making bows for them. They were carved with flowers and birds, and were as much things of beauty as weapons of war.

“How is your patient?” he asked quietly, following her inside. He didn’t want to tell her what he must. He was going back to the war in place of Axion for the next ten years with only a few days a season back home.

“He didn’t make it. Too old and too many years in the Occupied Lands,” she said as she lays her healer’s bag on the table. “What are you making?”

“Training bows for the girls for their birthing day.” He could tell from the look on her face, she isn’t happy about it. She hated weapons and anything to do with the war.

“I don’t want to fight tonight,” she said tiredly and went to their room.

Sighing, he put his woodworking tools away and followed to their bedroom. She came out of the bathing room, brushing her hair with the carved comb he made her. He could tell she wanted to say something but was too tired to put the effort into whatever it had her upset.

“Come to bed, my rose, it is very late.” He encouraged softly.

She curled her neck resting her cheek on his shoulder. Her fingers tracing the scars that covered his torso. Usually she asked him where this scar or that one came from, but on this night she just wept on his chest as his fingers ran through her hair.

“What is it, my wife?”

“Do you love me, Yurieth?”

“Of course.”

“But you never say it.” She murmured in a small voice, “I love you and I am sorry you have suffered so in the war.”

“If you need me to tell you, I will. I love you, Roserae, and I love our daughters. Do not be sorry for my suffering, it is the way of war and I am a warrior. It cannot be helped. Now, are you going to tell me what has you so upset?” He was starting to get annoyed.

“Why did it take so long to free those poor people?” Her voice had a slight judgmental edge.

Yurieth sighed, knowing his answer would anger her but it was the truth. “Because the politicians controlled the war and not the warriors.”

“Yurieth, did you kill a lot of people while you were in the war?”

“I am still in the war, my rose,” he answered truthfully, dreading what was coming next. “I don’t kill them myself, but the huntsmen I train do. I have gone from being a weapon to being a maker of weapons.”

“Don’t go back to the war,” she begged.

And he realized she knew. “It is my duty; I have had decades with you and the girls. It is only fair that Axion and Meteriel get to enjoy Anvonne’s babies. Warriors need to have their heart filled with memories of their loved ones or they become lost as I did.”

“You’ve done your duty. You need to tell them you won’t go back, and I want you to quit the academy too. I don’t like it that you teach others how to become killers.” Her voice was a whisper.

“Roserae, what is disturbing you?” he demanded, it wasn’t like her to be like this.

“I... I just feel like... like you, we... are running out of time together. I don’t want to lose you.” She confessed, then her tone became slightly more accusing. “And I don’t want you to turn our daughters into murderers like you.”

He almost rolled away from her, but instead he stayed holding her. “Roserae, I will only teach them to defend themselves. If I am not here to protect you and the girls, I want you to be able to fight enough to escape until my brother and his warriors can come rescue you. If you won’t allow it then please, consider moving back to one of the castles or the manor in the City of the Kings.”

“But why you? You have done almost 600 years of service. Twice as long as required. Let them send someone else,” she huffed.

“Regulus is worried the Xelusians are preparing for a counter attack. I need to be there to lead my huntsmen corps. And my duty will only end when the war ends,” he retorted firmly.

She rolled off his chest and turned her back to him, “I won’t leave our home and I don’t want you to go, Yurieth. But if you go, don’t come back. Good night.”

“Don’t be this way, Roserae. I will not abandon my family or my duty. You need to understand that. I would not demand you quit being a healer and give up your duty to aid the sick and infirm. How can you demand I ignore my ability and let others die, when I would survive?”

She refused to answer and laid crying on her side of the bed. Angrily, Yurieth rose and went outside. Sitting on the porch, he stared out at the water of the lake. Inside, he could hear his twin daughters’ steady heartbeats as they slept and Roserae’s soft crying. Hours after Roserae fell asleep, Yurieth returned to bed. He grimaced at the aftertaste of sleeping potion, but it was the only way he would sleep after staying awake so late. Roserae didn’t even move when he laid down, so he laid his arm across her, holding her without feeling her animosity towards his destiny. He wished it could be this way between them when she was awake, he might be able to love her then.

In the midmorning, Yurieth woke with the slight headache sleeping potions always left and to the sound of the girls fighting. Today was their birthday and they were arguing violently about what kind of cake they should have made. It made him smile. Rising, he dressed quickly and went to the kitchen. Cake ingredients and batter were everywhere. Yurieth had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“Where is your mother?” He tried to sound stern.

“She went to check on her pregnant ladies,” Lily answered.

“And the kitchen?” He asked, swallowing his laughter as he pulled two wretchedly burnt cakes from the oven.

The girls looked around as if shocked at the sudden realization of the mess they had made. He chuckled in spite of himself. “Come, girls. We will clean up your efforts. I will show you how to bake a cake, and later, we will go to the castle. Your grandmother will be arriving shortly.”

“Yay, we get to see grandmother!” Willow cheered.

“Can we sail over? Or back in Grandfather’s boat?” Lily asked.

“Don’t be stupid, father can’t sail, he’s a Huntsman,” Willow snapped crossly.

“It is just a short way and we can stay close to shore,” Lily countered.

“Grandmother said he can’t, it makes him sick,” Willow huffed.

“But I like sailing, and it’s my birth anniversary,” Lily whined.

“It’s my birthday too and I don’t want father to be sick.” Willow planted her hands on her hips, scowling at her sister with determination.

“Girls... If you wish to sail, I will ask your grandfather to sail you and meet you there. It is your birth anniversary, you should be happy instead of fighting.” He admonished them and they both looked repentant for a moment before Lily announced, “She started it.” And they began to argue anew.

That afternoon he moved through the woods at the pace only another master huntsman could keep up with. It felt so good to run without caution through the forest of his childhood. He climbed a tall tree and cast his eye across the water. He could see his father tacking as his sailboat turned to catch the wind. His father looked straight at him and held up a hand before grinning broadly. Yurieth jumped from the tree and sprinted along the trails above the lakeshore. It was a race to the castle. His father had the wind to aid him, but Yurieth was one with the wind. He was standing at the end of the dock when his family arrived. His giggling daughters jumped from the boat to hug him as he secured the lines.

“You are swift, my son. But someday your daughters and I shall beat you across the lake.” His father praised him, and Yurieth felt a juvenile rush of embarrassment and pride.

Yurieth answered as he lifted his daughters, “But today is not that day, my father.”

Yurieth stepped off the transport at the Summerlake Castle of the Adamos and inhaled deeply. It felt so good to be home, he had been gone almost two years. The counter attack had begun within a week of his return to active duty seventeen years earlier. He and his 121 huntsmen had punished the Xelusians on every side. Axion and Meteriel had consolidated the huntsmen training into one school, and within the decade every huntsman on the warfront would have a journeyman at his side. The nearly suicidal missions the Huntsmen had undertaken to rescue innocent lives from the murderous intentions of the blood mages had become legendary.

“Father!” came the chorus of his two favorite voices. Holding out his arms, he lifted his daughters, hugging them tightly.

“By the Light, you two are so tall and heavy, if you keep growing, how will your old father manage?” He teased as they laughed and hugged his neck.

“Father, we missed you,” Willow announced.

“Did you bring us presents?” Lily asked.

Abrieth bellowed a laugh from where he stood nearby. “They have their priorities, dear brother.”

“Brother!” Yurieth set his daughters down and embraced his brother.

‘Where is Roserae?’ Yurieth said to Abrieth’s mind through their twin bond.

‘She said she will be meeting us at the castle. She still refuses to leave her house. I have a pair of guardsmen, a married couple, living near to them, and a retired Amazoi living in as their housekeeper.’ Abrieth responded in kind.

‘Thank you for protecting my family, brother.’ Yurieth tried not to let his anger at his wife’s stubbornness show.

Aloud, Yurieth announced, “Your presents are in your newly decorated rooms at the Manor of Adamos in the City of the Kings. We will be going there for your 120th birth anniversary and the queen herself will be hosting your party. You both will be presented to the Royal Court by your grandmother.”

His daughters screamed with happiness, jumping up and down excitedly. Beyond them, he noticed Roserae standing and watching them, her anger barely hidden. Yurieth walked over and bent to kiss her but she turned her head so his kiss landed on her cheek.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I changed my mind, but I am not leaving my home,” she insisted in a low angry voice as she smiled up at him for the sake of their daughters. “I won’t change my mind about that. Promising our daughters gifts won’t make me agree, as soon as you leave. We will come home again without you.”

His eyes hardened as he smiled for appearances, but he answered just as softly, “You will live where our daughters are safe.” Loudly, he said, “Come, daughters, brother, wife, let’s go home.”

Abrieth left with the guardsmen after dinner. The old housekeeper and cook retired to her small cottage as Yurieth told his daughters about rescuing a dozen girls who had been taken to be sacrificed. They sat on their bed listen enraptured to the tale, unaware that he carefully left the scope of death out of the story. He did not want them to see him as the conscious-less murderer their mother seemed to believe he was. Roserae did not understand it when he said he only killed those whom he could see the darkness in their souls. She thought it was unfair to not offer a chance at repentance and redemption to everyone.

After putting the girls to bed, Yurieth paused by Roserae’s door before continuing on to his own room. There were so many things they no longer shared, including a bed. He had stopped wondering if things would ever be better between them, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. As long as his daughters were here, he would always come home. The beating of their hearts, their happiness, their love was all he needed. He would fight Roserae’s stubbornness forever, take every lashing of her tongue, as long as it meant their daughters were safe.

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