Warcry

son,” Othur rasped.
    Heath reached for his father’s shaking hand.
    Othur smiled. “So proud of you, my son. I love you.”
    “I love you, father.” Heath choked out the words.
    “Lara, daughter of my heart.” Othur smiled up at her. “Proud of you as well. You’ll be a good Queen.”
    Lara reached out to stroke his cheek. “I will try, Father.”
    Othur nodded and sighed. “Anna, love.”
    Anna could only look at him. Othur reached out as if to cup her face with his hand. She had to help him lift his hand and placed it on her cheek. “Don’t cry, beloved,” Othur said. “I’ll wait for you.”
    “Othur, my love.” Anna bit her lip as her tears spilled. “Othur, please, please, don’t leave me.” She pressed her hand against his, holding it up.
    “Not my choice,” Othur murmured softly, then sighed a bit. “Doesn’t hurt so much now.”
    He tilted his head back to look at the man who held him. “You’ll care for them?”
    “I will,” Keir said. “For them and for Xy. I swear it by the fire, water, earth, and air.”
    Othur nodded, his breath rasping. “All’s well then.” He focused on Heath. “You, my boy. You follow your heart, eh? In all things.”
    “I will, Father,” Heath replied.
    “I so wanted to see the babe.” Othur took a breath and sighed as he closed his eyes. “But the light is beautiful, isn’t it?”
    He did not take another breath.

CHAPTER 29
     
    DURST STARTED LAUGHING BEHIND THEM, HIS weird cackling echoing off the walls. One of the guards forced some cloth into Durst’s mouth, cutting off the noise.
    Heath reached out for his mother, putting his arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head against him, silently weeping.
    Lara was in Keir’s arms, her head on his chest, crying bitterly. For a long moment, they sat there stunned until Keir spoke. “Death of earth.”
    Lara lifted her head and spoke through her tears. “Birth of water.”
    “Death of water.” Marcus spoke from the depths of his cloak.
    Amyu stood at his side. “Birth of air.”
    Yveni took up the chant. “Death of air.”
    Rafe spoke next. “Birth of fire.”
    Prest’s voice was a rumble. “Death of fire.”
    “Birth of earth.” Keir completed the circle. “The elements have sustained you.”
    “We thank the elements.” The others spoke together, and Heath forced the words past his lips.
    “Go now, warrior,” Keir said. “Beyond the snows and to the stars.”
    Lara leaned over and took Anna’s hand. “Anna,” she said.
    Anna looked at her, dazed and teary.
    “Gracious Goddess, Lady of the Moon and Stars, now is the hour of his death,” Lara chanted softly.
    Anna swallowed hard. “Gracious One, full of forgiveness, forget his offenses and sins.”
    Heath cleared his throat and recited with them. “Gracious One, full of mercy, see his true repentance. Gracious One, full of grace, honor his true efforts. Gracious One, full of kindness, incline your ear to our plea. Gracious One, full of glory, embrace his soul.”
    Anna lowered Othur’s hand, reached out, and closed his eyes.
    “Heath,” Detros said from behind him. “Heath, lad, I need ya. The Archbishop is dying.”
    “What?” Heath felt numb and cold. His father was dead. What did the Archbishop’s death matter?
    But it did matter, even in the face of his grief. He forced himself to think, and looked over to see the man sprawled on the floor, his white-and-gold robes covered in blood. “How did that happen?”
    Eln shook his head. “He’s trying to speak, but I am not sure what he is saying.”
    Keir was lowering Othur’s body to the floor. The others were covering him with the ceremonial mantle. Marcus had appeared as if from nowhere, hooded and cloaked. He bent over Lara now, aiding her to stand. Amyu and Yveni were seeing to Heath’s mother.
    Heath went with Eln to where the Archbishop lay. The man was pale, gasping for air. The two acolytes shook with fear, but they knelt at his side. The Archbishop’s robes were pierced with multiple blows, and they were covered with blood.
    “At least one is to the stomach,” Eln said softly. “Another cut went into the throat. There’s nothing I can do.”
    There was a noise at the main doors that had everyone reaching for weapons. Detros entered, with two guards and Iain, the chapel cleric safe between them.
    Iain cried out at the sight, and ran forward. “Devoted One.” Iain threw himself down by the Archbishop. “What has happened?”
    “There was a