Six Celestial Swords by T. A. Miles Page A

Alere couldn’t help the misgivings he felt dropping such a burden in the lap of one so young.
    And are you so old? He asked himself. At just sixteen you set foot upon your first battlefield. Kailel is the same tender age and he has only to combat his emotions. He will do well here, with the others. It is where he belongs.
    “Alere?”
    The tiny voice drew him out of his pause. He shifted his focus back to the steps and walked up a few more of them, stopping again when he saw the small girl in his path. He knelt to her height. “Edelyn, it is late. You should be in your bed, little one.”
    “I’m not tired,” she said. “I’m never tired. I want to go with you.”
    He smiled at her gently and tucked strands of pale hair behind her ear. “And you may...when I have returned from my journey and you are old enough to be taught to ride.”
    Edelyn was the smallest of them—not seven years old yet, as she had been an infant when they fled from their home—and so, in her endearing innocence, accepted the terms without considering them. She did so with a firm nod.
    Alere stood and lifted her into his arms. “My darling little one, I shall surely miss you.”
    “I love you, Alere,” the child yawned, wrapping her arms around his neck.
    “And I love you,” he answered, but she did not hear as she had already fallen fast asleep upon his shoulder.
    Kailel, however, standing at the top of the bridge of stairs, did hear. “How can you leave them?” he asked, and not argumentatively, so much as wonderingly.
    Alere said softly, “With a heavy heart.”
    Kailel watched his cousin holding the smallest Shaederin for a moment, then said, “We will need to employ guards. Will you not at least stay long enough to help me with the selection? I fear I am not as wise a judge of character as you. I’m not certain whether I can tell a mercenary from an honest soldier.”
    “Any soldier whose services are not pledged already to a lord is a mercenary,” Alere informed. “But there are some better than others. I think you will be able to tell them apart.”
    “I think you have too much faith in me.”
    “You have yet to damage my faith in you, Kailel. It would bolster, I think, if you were to develop some faith in yourself.”
    Kailel looked away from Alere just then, down at the deep shadows beneath them. “I have not seen as much of the world as you have, Alere. I feel naïve sometimes.”
    “That you can admit to that proves you are not.”
    Kailel met Alere’s gaze. “Alere...”
    Recognizing the sentimental gleam in Kailel’s eyes, Alere diverted a second assault on his heart by changing the subject. “The armory appears in fair order.”
    Kailel confirmed the statement with a nod. “The weapons’ master kept a detailed catalogue. All that was missing lay with the bodies and were recovered before burial. Apparently our thieves were more interested in elven art and gold than blades.”
    “A foolish lot they were,” Alere replied. And then he asked, “You have claimed your father’s sword?”
    Kailel shook his head. “It was broken in the battle. I buried the shards with him.”
    Alere had not partaken of much of the task of burial once becoming enrapt in his thorough search of the grounds. He had not been informed and said appropriately, “I’m sorry, Kailel.”
    “My father’s blade wasn’t enchanted.” Kailel came forward and carefully took little Edelyn from Alere. “Perhaps it’s for the best. What would the others do if we both felt vengeance’s call?”
    “Find a weapon that you trust,” Alere advised, deciding not to reproach his cousin for his careless statement. “Find one for Tahren and Ardin as well.”
    “They are only children,” Kailel argued.
    “They are each fourteen and they are each strong. They will learn fast and well.”
    Kailel sighed and said, neither for the first time or the last, “I wish you would stay.”
    “I have put this off for too long already. I will leave when