The Warden’s Son Book 3:
Heart of Vanris

by Nikki McCormack

Kasiel and his unit have made a name for themselves. Enough of one that they are now being sent to the northern capital to be paraded before the people as heroes and to escort the khevarin’s daughter back south with them. It is a mission that should give them all a much-needed break from fighting and allow Kasiel time to recover from his injuries.

What starts as a simple assignment becomes more complicated when the khevarin’s strong-willed daughter decides Kasiel and his unit will continue serving as her personal guards. With the war ongoing and rumors of possible political alliances in the air, protecting her may prove far more dangerous and disruptive than they imagined.

Still new to life as a soldier, Kasiel is unprepared for the complex matters of royalty and politics, especially while still learning to navigate the ever-complicated challenges of leadership and love.

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Information:

Title: Heart of Vanris, The Warden’s Son Book Three
Author: Nikki McCormack
Cover Art: Robert Crescenzio
Publisher: Elysium Books
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Length: 418 pages
Release Date: July 2024
ISBN: 979-8-9903922-3-6

Excerpt from Heart of Vanris: The Warden’s Son Book Three

by Nikki McCormack

Copyright © 2024 by Nikki McCormack. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

CHAPTER ONE

Kasiel ducked back, narrowly avoiding the arc of Dhomen Farren’s swinging sword. He darted in behind it, attempting to take advantage of a brief opening. The instant he committed to the attack, he knew it was going to be too slow. Too slow and too clumsy. Farren’s parry and retaliation were lightning quick and anything but awkward. Kasiel’s practice sword hit the ground, the strike that had disarmed him leaving his wrist stinging despite the protection of the bracer.

“This is impossible!” He followed the declaration with a string of curses in a blend of Vanrian and Pandrean Common as he tried to shake the feeling back into his fingers.

Farren watched him. A couple of braids hung behind his pointed ears, keeping his long white-blond hair back out of his eyes. The sharp red lines of his ke’hanoath tattoos climbing up his throat added an edge of threat to his countenance even when he was still.

The dhomen remained silent until Kasiel ran out of vulgarities. “Are you finished?”

“No,” Kasiel snapped.

He kicked the training sword, sending it skidding across the sandy practice ring until it hit the low border at the side. Irith, his cliff cat companion, leapt the outer fence and sprinted after it, pouncing on the weapon when it rebounded toward the center. With the sword securely pinned under his front paws, the big predator sat and began grooming one shoulder. He paused with the tip of his tongue still hanging out to look at Kasiel, the expectation in his bright blue eyes making it apparent that some recognition of his valiant efforts should be forthcoming.

Kasiel stared at the cat for a second, trying to rein in his temper, then he faced Farren. “Why are you wasting your time on this, sir? Any inren in the city could hold their own against me right now.” He was being generous. Even a child could probably beat him in single combat now.

Farren drew a deep breath and released it before answering. “What you are trying to do is extremely difficult, Ahninveth. Learning to fight left-handed is not something you’re going to master overnight.”

Kasiel clenched his right hand at his side. Three months since the battle in Sharith and the arm remained weak, the nerves still not responding normally in places. “That doesn’t answer my question. Why are you doing this?” He strode over to collect the practice sword, paying the toll of a scratch behind Irith’s ears to get the cat off it.

“Maybe I want you to have the skills to defend yourself when you’re out running your beasts in battle. I believe you can do this. Besides, the dhomvalen didn’t give me a choice.” He passed his practice blade to his left hand and flowed through a few elegant combat forms with it. “My being left-handed might have played a part in his decision.”

Kasiel stared at him. The man wielded a sword in his right hand like he had been born with it there. This was the first time he had seen him use the other. “Why don’t you fight that way?”

“I do, against my enemies. Most people aren’t accustomed to fighting a left-handed opponent, so it can give you an advantage if you’re good at it. I don’t fight that way with my students until they’re more advanced because they’ll typically be facing right-handed foes.”

A flush of shame warmed Kasiel’s cheeks. This man trained with both hands to better prepare his students. Here he was, complaining about having to train with his left hand when what he was actually angry about was being injured in a fight he shouldn’t have gotten into to begin with. Although, several residents of Sharith might feel differently, given that he had stalled the Delaphinian general long enough to save their lives. Regardless of the outcome of his actions then, right now he was being bitter and ungrateful.

His temper was too quick to rise. Maybe losing Sylaryth and almost losing Jethan played a part in that. Those experiences still weighed on him, sometimes haunting his dreams. Watching them execute the man who had raised him might also contribute to the problem. Not that Edmund hadn’t deserved it with everything he had done to Kasiel and to the Vanrian people, but his emotions around all that remained a tangled, confusing mess. It could also have something to do with the way they forced him to abandon Danica after being foolish enough to bring her to Etrion for help. He still didn’t know if they had cured her nightmares before sending her back with the Alliance messenger. No one would talk to him about it.

Not a full year in Vanris yet, and so much had changed.

With a thought, he sent Irith out of the ring and faced Farren again, raising his blade.

“Ready?” Farren asked.

Kasiel nodded.

The combat instructor came at him like a lethal whirlwind. When Jethan showed up an hour later, Kasiel was bruised, sweaty, and struggling to keep his temper leashed, but he had made progress. In the final twenty minutes, Farren had failed to disarm him again, despite the numbness in Kasiel’s fingers from all the hits he had taken on that arm.

A woman wearing the simple black and purple attire of a palace attendant accompanied Jethan. Her gaze focused on Kasiel as they approached.

He urged Irith to his side, putting a hand on the cat’s head when he sat there. The bond they shared wasn’t as strong as the one he’d had with Sylaryth, but maybe it would get there in time.

“Ahninveth Kasiel.” She inclined her head. “You and Lord Jethan are required in the palace.”

Farren held out a hand to take the practice sword. “You did well today, Ahninveth. I expect more improvement next time.”

Next time. Not tomorrow. Farren must think the summons heralded a journey of some kind. A ball of dread formed in Kasiel’s gut. “Of course, Dhomen.” He handed Farren the sword, then faced the attendant. “Lead the way.”

She started back toward the palace, trusting them to follow.

Jethan fell into step alongside him. “You look tired, tehnaak. You want to skip the Twisted Vine tonight?”

Kasiel gestured to the woman in front of them with his chin. “We may not get much choice depending on what this is about.”

“True.”

He watched the woman for a moment, his thoughts turning to Nerith. She had been an attendant in the palace when he first met her. The khevarin orchestrated that encounter so she might spy on him, but something genuine had grown from it.

“Are there rules about who can marry who in Vanris?” As the question tumbled out, he realized how it would sound, but it was too late to stop it.

“You mean, do nobles have to marry nobles or something like that?” Jethan grinned and bumped him with an elbow. “Why, are you already thinking about making a certain someone your future bride?”

His cheeks were instantly ablaze. “No. I...” His gaze rose to the towering black pinnacles that speared up from the rooftops of the palace complex as he collected his thoughts. “I guess I don’t even know what I am here.”

“You’re considered military nobility, given your father’s status.”

Kasiel looked at him, unnerved by the comment. Why did the concept of being nobility of any kind make him so incredibly uncomfortable? “Really?”

“Would I joke about such a thing?”

“Is there anything you wouldn’t joke about?”

Jethan chuckled. “Well, I’m serious this time.”

They followed the attendant to a side entrance into the palace. It didn’t rain often in this region of Vanris, but it had been chilly enough in recent months that when it did, they occasionally got snow, though the coldest part of winter was past. While fighting Farren, Kasiel hadn’t noticed the chill, but now that the sweat on his skin had cooled, it felt good to get inside. The cliff cat, with his heavy blue-gray coat, seemed to enjoy the brisk weather, requiring a little mental encouragement from Kasiel before he would come through the door with them.

“You’re royalty though, aren’t you?” he asked as the cat stepped inside and shook dust from the practice ring onto the polished marble floor.

Jethan shrugged, his interest in the conversation waning the moment Kasiel brought up his status. “I am. Part of the extended royal family.”

“So, are there restrictions on who we can be with?”

“Not really. Not unless you have far more influence on the future of Vanris than either of us do, though arranged marriages aren’t unheard of regardless of rank or status. It depends on the circumstances. But Nerith is a healer now. That puts her in a well-respected position.”

Kasiel’s face warmed again. He stared hard at the back of the woman guiding them. Did she find their conversation amusing? “I didn’t say anything about Nerith.”

“Not by name.”

Jethan’s teasing tone didn’t help Kasiel’s composure. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“All right, tehnaak. Whatever makes you happy.” A faint, self-satisfied grin lingered on Jethan’s lips.

Kasiel rolled his eyes. Jethan wasn’t wrong. Nerith was the reason for his questions. She was a healer now. Vanris highly valued its healers. Was that enough to make her an acceptable match for the son of the dhomvalen of Vanris? Did he care if it didn’t?

The woman stopped outside the war room adjacent to the large council chamber that he had been summoned to on several occasions. The first time for the results of his assessment testing and many times since to face Khevarin Seylin’s judgement for various incidents over the course of the year.

The attendant stepped to one side, and one of the guards by the doors nodded to Kasiel and Jethan, his eyes lingering a moment on Irith before he opened it to allow them entry.

Dhomvalen Arhk was notably absent, but Adnar, his blond hair hanging loose over his shoulders, stood at the far end of a long table across from a stern-looking dhomen Kasiel hadn’t met yet. The new man’s dark blond hair, pulled into braids along both sides of his head, had streaks of gray through it, and his blue-gray eyes were hard as steel. The only other person there, aside from guards positioned around the room, was Khevarin Seylin, ruler of Vanris, her white-blond hair pulled into a single loose braid that showed off both finely pointed ears. Her cool blue eyes focused on him as he entered. Not once in the seemingly endless walk from the door to the end of the table did her gaze shift to Jethan or the cliff cat.

Kasiel absently touched the back of his right hand, where two more symbols had joined the original tattoo that showed her appreciation for catching Nerith’s attackers. Of the newer ones, his entire unit shared the first. A recognition of their service to Vanris in destroying Edmund’s research and bringing the man to Etrion to face judgment. He thought of it rather cynically as the symbol of his obliterated childhood. The other, he alone received to honor his efforts in Sharith, getting them into the city without losing more than a few of the citizens the Alliance force had been using as human barricades.

The way the corners of the khevarin’s mouth curved up in a brief, covetous smile reminded him of their conversation after Sharith.

“Remember, Lord Kasiel, weapons are forged in fire.”

“Is that what I am now?”

“Do not doubt it.”

Her response had left him ill at ease. Becoming a soldier was never his ambition. Edmund would have done his best to discourage such notions if he had ever had them. Now that he had a growing number of people he cared about in his life, he had that many more reasons to hate this war. Perhaps fear of losing them was another thing that contributed to his sharp temper of late.

When they stopped at the table near Adnar and knelt, Seylin finally released him from her gaze. She gestured for them to rise, then glanced at the Feral ahndhomen.

Adnar inclined his head to each of them. “Ahninveth Kasiel, Lord Jethan, this is Dhomen Sorval.”

“Dhomen.” Kasiel and Jethan acknowledged the other man together, both bowing their heads.

“You run tethdraks, Ahninveth?” the dhomen asked, eyeing Irith curiously.

“Yes, sir.”

“This is the first time I’ve seen a Feral whose companion wasn’t one of their preferred beasts.”

“This was Irith’s idea.” The cliff cat’s purr filled the room when Kasiel set a hand on his head.

“I see. You were responsible for getting Vanris’s force into the city in Sharith?”

Where was he going with this? “Yes, sir.”

“Our scouts recently reported a small company of Alliance troops gathering southeast of Etrion at the Sarketi border. We had driven them out of Katis and our base just before you took Sharith back. From there, we kept after them, pushing them out of the ruins of Riftwater in the Break. They had been using that location as a base for some of their operations in Vanris. It now looks as if they are preparing to go back in there. What I need to do is figure out what they’re after in Riftwater and, if necessary, keep them out of the town while I accomplish that.”

His hard gaze shifted to Adnar for a moment before he continued. Did that mean this was the ahndhomen’s idea? Had he recommended Kasiel’s unit?

“Etrion is light on troops with so many out providing defense and helping rebuild after the Alliance’s invasion. There should be units returning within the next few days, but I need to move on this now. I could use the combat power of your beasts and your unique scouting abilities. I understand you are still recovering from your injuries, but Ahndhomen Adnar assures me you have excellent fighters in your unit who can provide you protection while you run your tethdraks.”

A dark unease stirred in Kasiel’s chest. “Does that mean you want my full unit, sir?”

“Not your healers,” Seylin answered. “Dhomen Sorval has enough of our healers already. There is no reason to put yours at risk for this mission.”

Relief washed away some anxiety. Nerith and Tath would get to stay out of the fighting this time. He was more than happy to stand behind that choice. “When do we head out?”

Respect found its way into Sorval’s slow smile. “The company departs in the morning.”

“We’ll be ready, sir.” Kasiel might have appreciated Adnar’s firm nod of approval more if he hadn’t noticed the satisfied smirk that tugged at the khevarin’s lips.

After they received the details for their coming mission, Seylin dismissed them. Irith’s tail switched back and forth as they strode down the halls, the big cat picking up on the fresh tension in Kasiel. As happy as he was that Tath and Nerith weren’t going, the rest of his companions would be back in harm’s way, Jethan included.

What had his father said?

“You can’t save everyone, Kasiel.”

The truth in those words haunted him as unceasingly as the moment Itana’s mace struck his arm. Whenever he did the exercises to strengthen it, he could see that powerful blow sweeping down again and hear his father’s words.

“I guess we should go tell the others.”

An uncomfortable edge in Jethan’s tone pulled Kasiel’s from his morose thoughts. Maybe it was the prospect of possibly heading into combat again that made Jethan sound uneasy, but he got the feeling there was more to it.

“What’s wrong, tehnaak?”

Jethan shook his head, his nose wrinkling as if he smelled something foul. “It’s just the way my aunt was watching you, like she’d found a new favorite pet.”

“Ah, that. I’m kind of getting used to it. From where she’s standing, I’m just another tool in her arsenal.” Another weapon to be deployed.

“Yes, but you’re so much more than that. I hate that she can’t... that she won’t see you for who you are outside of your potential as a weapon.”

Kasiel smiled at his tehnaak. “Usually, I’m the naïve one.”

Jethan shook his head at him, a reluctant grin cracking his features. “True. I prefer it that way.”

When they arrived at the tavern, the rest of the unit was already there. Tath sat at one end of the bench against the wall, Darro’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. Then Kince and Wedro with Etris at the far end, the Speaker looking ill-at-ease among them. She was a welcome part of their unit now, but Chander’s loss still hung heavy over the group, and her discomfort made it clear how obvious that was.

Merrin, Avris, and Nerith sat across from them. The three women had become closer since their mission to rescue Jethan, though a slight tension rose between Avris and Nerith whenever Kasiel was around. He suspected Nerith knew he and Avris had slept together. It hadn’t been a manifestation of romantic love, just a dash of attraction and the intense need for comfort. Still, it had changed his relationship with Avris, creating a closeness and physical ease between them he didn’t share with the other women in the group. Something Nerith appeared to have noticed.

Jethan claimed a spot next to Avris, bumping Nerith down to sit between him and Kasiel, who took a seat at the end of the bench to accommodate Irith. Once they settled, each with a mug of Vanrian Black Mead before them, Jethan turned to Kasiel, waiting for him to break the news. It was an odd thing, considering this unit had been under Jethan’s command when he first met them all on their mission to bring him to Vanris from the southern kingdom of Fallend. Now they were his unit.

“We’re being sent out.” With just a few words, he captured their full attention. “We’ll be going into the Break to the ruins of Riftwater under Dhomen Sorval’s command. There’s an Alliance company gathering south of there. The goal is to keep them out of the town and see if we can figure out what they’re after. We leave in the morning.” Nerith’s fingers wound through his, tightening on his hand. Dread twisted in his gut. She wouldn’t like what he was going to say next. His gaze moved to Tath. “The dhomen has enough healers in his company, so they want ours to stay behind.”

“What?”

It wasn’t clear whether Nerith or Tath exclaimed the word first, but Nerith aggressively extracted her hand from his and both women stared at him as if this were his fault.

Kasiel cringed inwardly. “The khevarin doesn’t want to risk more healers if it’s not necessary.” At least he had someone else to place the blame on. An individual they couldn’t argue with.

“That’s horseshit,” Tath snapped. “We’re a unit. We should go out together.”

“Do we get to take your kanodrak?” Kince asked, ignoring the tension at the table.

Kasiel seized on the question, eager to escape the anger of the two healers. “I assume so. I won’t go without Niske.”

Nerith hit his arm. Slight as she was, she packed impressive power into that swing. “You won’t go without her, but you’ll leave me here?”

Kasiel rubbed his arm and looked at her, catching Avris’s smirk from further down the bench before she hid it behind her mug of mead. Jethan leaned back a fraction and gestured to Nerith’s head, raising his brows as if to ask whether Kasiel would like him to use his Charmer ability on her. Kasiel negated the idea with a subtle shake of his head, trying not to chuckle at his tehnaak’s audacity. That would only raise Nerith’s ire.

He met her eyes. “You know I would rather have you with me.”

“Do you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Nerith countered, her sharp tone making it clear how she felt about that.

He drew a deep breath, his gaze flickering to Darro and Tath, who were engaged in a quiet conversation punctuated by several light kisses. Tath was smiling. He sighed and met Nerith’s eyes again.

“You’re right. I’d rather not put you in danger, but it isn’t because I doubt you. I’ve seen you fight.” He leaned in and gave her a light kiss, encouraged when she didn’t avoid it or pull away. Drawing back a fraction, his lips still almost touching hers, he said, “Can we talk about it later?”

“It had better be a very compelling conversation.” She kissed him then, a soft lingering kiss that reassured him they would get past this.

After an hour spent enjoying the unit’s company over tavern food and a few rounds of mead, they split up earlier than usual. They had responsibilities the next morning that required them to be awake and alert. Kasiel, Jethan, and Nerith went to drop Irith at the cliff cat enclosure together. Jethan split off when they reached the private quarters in the palace.

By the time Kasiel had pulled out his clothing and equipment for the next day, Nerith was curled in the bed, her eyes closed. She looked peaceful. Knowing how fierce she could be, he found the image endearingly deceptive. He stripped down, snuffed out the last wall sconce, leaving one candle burning next to the bed, and climbed in beside her.

“Kas?” she murmured.

Good, she was still awake. He didn’t want to leave with this conflict hanging between them. “Yes.”

“If you find yourself compelled to try saving anyone out there, could you do me a favor?”

He rolled onto his side and brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. Those unusual lavender eyes that he could contentedly gaze into for hours on end. “What favor?”

“Before you go charging in, make sure you’ll be able to save yourself too. You’re still recovering from the injury to your arm. You’re not in any condition for heroics.”

She was right, but he couldn’t promise her that. If someone in his unit was in trouble, he knew himself too well to believe he would stay out of it. “Would you even like me if I didn’t try to protect the people who are important to me?”

“I don’t like you, Kas. I love you.” She traced a line of the tattoo on his cheek with one finger. “And I love how you care so deeply, but I don’t want to lose you. Promise me you’ll remember that.”

That was something he could give her. He doubted he would ever forget the way she was looking at him, or the words she had just said. “I promise,” he whispered, taking her hand and pressing his lips to her palm.

“And Kas?”

“Hmm?” He leaned in to kiss her neck, sliding one hand down her side to the curve of her waist.

She turned her head to the side, giving him better access to the soft skin there. “Do you love me?”

“Of course.” He kissed down her neck to her collarbone, moving in toward the hollow of her throat.

“Of course, what?” she asked, the question punctuated by a soft gasp as his hand slid over to her belly and down.

He drew back to look at her. “Yes, Nerith.” He placed a light kiss on her lips. “I love you.” It felt unexpectedly good to admit that and see the resulting sparkle of pleasure in her eyes. He gave her a mischievous smile and slid his hand lower, drawing another gasp from her.

She pulled him in for a deeper kiss.