Exiles

  Copyright © 2017 by Jaye L. Knight

  www.ilyonchronicles.com

  Published by Living Sword Publishing

  Ilyon Map © 2014 by Jaye L. Knight

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotations in written reviews.

  All Scriptures are taken from the New American Standard Bible, Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. www.Lockman.org

  Contents

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Epilogue

  Returning Characters

  New Characters

  Dragons

  Locations

  Race Profiles

  Ryriks

  Talcrins

  Cretes

  Giants

  Book 5

  About the Author

  Jace dragged in a deep breath to steady and compose himself, though his body fought to resist the effort. What would it say about him to look sick standing up in front of everyone in the meeting hall on this joyous occasion? He clenched his sweating fingers together to keep from fidgeting.

  Why was he so jittery? This wasn’t even his wedding.

  For the hundredth time, his gaze strayed across the aisle. Kyrin stood opposite him with her mother and little Meredith as bridesmaids. This time she noticed and sent him a smile, her eyes a bit teary. She made a stunning image, standing there in her lovely yellow dress. His breath caught. So much for his composure. If he were to stand here as the groom one day, it would never be anyone but her at his side. That shouldn’t make him so nervous.

  Of course, she saw right through him. Her smile transformed from one of joy over the moment to one of comfort and encouragement just for him. His heart quieted.

  Trask’s voice registered again, and Jace snapped his wandering attention back to the proceedings. It was an honor for Warin to have asked him to stand up for him with Rayad and Jeremy, and he didn’t take it lightly.

  Jace focused on the man and his beautiful bride Lenae. Their announcement to marry had come as a surprise to him, though Kyrin seemed to have seen it coming all along. Such things rarely escaped her notice.

  Everyone had rallied around the couple with great enthusiasm. The glow on Lenae’s face and Warin’s perpetual grin proved how very much in love they were despite having kept it quiet all along. With Warin as Trask’s right-hand man in leading the camp and Lenae acting as a mother figure to everyone, the union was fitting. To think, when Jace had first come to camp, it consisted of only a handful of single men living in tents. Now it was a small village of men, women, children, and blossoming relationships.

  With Trask’s pronouncement of man and wife, Warin drew Lenae into his arms and kissed her, sending a flurry of applause and cheers throughout the gathering. Arm in arm, the new couple led the way out of the meeting hall to close the ceremony. Meeting in the middle to follow, Kyrin tucked her hand into the crook of Jace’s arm. Her touch and another reassuring smile soothed the last of his nerves.

  Outside, an assortment of tables filled the center of camp, some laden with food and others set for dining. The young girls had done a fine job in decorating them with a festive array of wildflowers. Jace thanked Elôm for the bright sunshine overhead. It rained almost nonstop lately, and this celebration wouldn’t be nearly so festive with wet weather. Warin and Lenae deserved a perfect day, and the clear sky was an answer to prayer.

  The residents of camp eagerly approached the prepared feast and filled up their plates. At Warin and Lenae’s table, Jace pulled out a chair for Kyrin to sit down and then sat beside her. Trask offered a prayer of thanks before the meal began amidst joyful chattering and laughter. Moments like these offered a glimpse of the peaceful life they all longed for and fought to attain.

  However, halfway into the feast, Jace caught the sound of dragon wings above the trees. He looked over his shoulder. A crete dragon rider landed at the edge of camp—one of their messengers from Samara. Talk quieted around the tables. The crete approached King Balen, who sat a short way down the table with Trask. They spoke quietly, so as not to disturb the celebration, and the crete produced a packet of parchments. More messages from Baron Thomas and General Mason, no doubt.

  Leaving food on his plate, Balen excused himself and stepped away to read the messages. Jace let his gaze follow the king and prayed the letters didn’t bear bad news. Perhaps this time they may contain good news. With Daican’s power growing like an ever-tightening noose, they could use a boost of hope. Ever since their defeat in Samara, it seemed as though they were always a step behind the emperor.

  Warm, gentle fingers clasped Jace’s hand, and he swung his gaze to Kyrin. Though she did not speak, her calming expression said enough. Fretting now wouldn’t solve their situation. Best to enjoy this moment of celebration while it lasted. He gripped her hand more tightly and returned his attention to his food.

  Once the meal concluded, everyone left the tables to mingle, full and satisfied after the feast. Kyrin spotted Elanor’s happy, smiling face, and worked her way through the crowd. She gave the young woman a grin when she reached her side. She loved every occasion that brought Jace’s sister out to camp. While Kyrin and Jace weren’t actually married—yet—Elanor was already like a sister to her.

  “Everything is so lovely,” Elanor said. “You and your mother did a wonderful job helping Lenae put it all together.”

  Kyrin shrugged. “It’s the least we could do after how kind she has been to us. Besides, I love seeing her and Warin together.”

  “They are adorable, aren’t they? I’m almost jealous. I’m one of the only young women here unattached.”

  “Though not from lack of interest,” Kyrin reminded her.

  Elanor laughed. “No.”

  Not surprisingly, she had turned the heads of several of the young men with her mother’s dark hair and deep blue eyes. However, between Jace and Elian—two formidable opponents—they kept a respectful distance. Kyrin found the broodingly protective looks Jace sent toward interested parties both amusing and endearing. It would take a very special sort of man to gain his favor when it came to his sister.

  “Has anyone caught your eye?”

  Elanor shook her head, and Kyrin gave her a probing look. It was easy to pretend not to have an interest in someone. She and
Jace had gone months before sharing their feelings with each other. Thank Elôm those days were behind them now.

  “Truly, there’s no one,” Elanor insisted. “Besides, I don’t think falling in love with a fugitive is exactly what Mother had in mind for me here. Not that she would stop it, of course, but Father . . .”

  She didn’t need to finish. Goose bumps prickled Kyrin’s arms at the memories of Elanor’s father, Sir Rothas Cantan , and the time spent in his house. She still prayed every day for Jace’s mother and what she had to endure as Rothas’s wife.

  “Poor Timothy.” Elanor’s comment broke Kyrin away from thoughts of the past.

  Kyrin scanned the gathering to locate her close friend. Timothy stood with his brother and some of the other men, but his attention strayed away from them. She followed his gaze to Leetra at the opposite side of the crowd. The crete girl rarely wore dresses, but she did today—a traditional crete dress of pieced-together leather and a lavender blouse that matched her eyes and left her brown shoulders bare to reveal her family tattoos. No wonder Timothy kept staring. She was gorgeous in her exotic crete way.

  “Now there’s a man I wouldn’t turn down,” Elanor admitted.

  Kyrin couldn’t blame her. Timothy was one of the most kind-hearted, Elôm-seeking men she had ever known. He would make a wonderful husband one day.

  “But I’ll never have that chance,” Elanor said with only a whispering of regret. “Do you think there’s hope for him with Leetra?”

  Kyrin considered what she had witnessed between them in the last year. Why Leetra always resisted Timothy was a mystery. Still, he was a patient man, and for being a race known for quick, decisive action, Leetra remained surprisingly neutral toward him.

  “I wouldn’t give up on them just yet. If Leetra wanted nothing to do with him, she would have put an end to it, and Timothy would respect that. I’d say there’s a war going on between her head and her heart, and he knows it.”

  “Well, I hope one side wins soon, for his sake.”

  Kyrin agreed. They all loved Timothy.

  “So . . .” Elanor leaned in a little closer, her eyes twinkling. “What about you and Jace? When will this be your day?”

  Automatically, Kyrin sought Jace in the crowd, spotting him with Rayad and Elian. He was dressed in his best outfit—a black suede jerkin, pale blue shirt, and black pants. He’d pulled his hair back today, revealing his pointed ears. Though he didn’t do it often, every day he grew a little more confident and accepting of his ryrik blood. His handsome form was enough to make her heart do a little dance, and she could certainly imagine him up at the front of the meeting hall instead of Warin.

  She turned back to Elanor. “If it’s meant to be, it will happen in time.”

  “Do you talk about it?”

  Not outright.

  “It’s been implied in some of our conversations.” Kyrin paused. “I’m waiting for him to bring it up. He’s hesitant, and still uncertain about things. I don’t want to rush him or push him if he isn’t ready.”

  A loving smile softened Elanor’s expression. “I’m glad he has you and you’re so understanding. I haven’t known him for as long as you have, but I love my brother.”

  “So do I.”

  They shared a smile now.

  Nodding in a different direction, Elanor said, “Well, however long it takes you, I’m sure it won’t be as long as those two.”

  Kyrin looked to her right. Trask and Anne, of course. Trask leaned over Anne’s shoulder, murmuring something in her ear. No doubt an attempt to coax her to accept one of his numerous marriage proposals. Were she to say yes, he would probably marry her on the spot. Anne just smiled coyly, looking anywhere but at him. Kyrin didn’t doubt Anne’s love for Trask, but she would marry him in her own good time. With a look of longsuffering, Trask seemed to concede this fact.

  Kyrin released a light laugh. “Goodness, I hope not.”

  “Kyrin looks very lovely today, if I may say so.”

  Jace’s attention shifted to Holden. He certainly wouldn’t dispute that fact, since he had just been watching Kyrin and thinking the same thing. Before he could comment, Holden asked, “When will you ask her?”

  Of course, that question was bound to come up. Jace let a slow sigh escape. He couldn’t fault his friend’s curiosity. He’d known all along that today would have everyone’s minds set on weddings, and not just on Warin and Lenae’s union. All week he had braced himself for the barrage of romantic speculations. He caught Elian and Rayad’s pitiful attempt not to look interested in his answer.

  “I don’t know.” Though he did contemplate it often enough.

  Holden shook his head. “I don’t know how you can wait.”

  Once again, Jace sought Kyrin and watched her laugh and visit with his sister, lantern glow lighting up her face as the sun grew dim. How did he wait? She would almost certainly say yes. They could be husband and wife in a matter of weeks if they wanted, but he hesitated. Whether it was a sense of caution or doubt, he held back. She deserved only the best, and he wasn’t completely convinced yet that he was it. Could he be the husband she needed and deserved? And what about beyond that? Could he be a father? He swallowed, his throat seizing.

  Fear. He recognized the sensation. His future as a potential husband and father wasn’t anything to take lightly.

  Holden thumped him on the shoulder. “You all right?”

  Jace worked to loosen his throat. He and Holden talked often, but this was different. Something too personal to speak of, even with him.

  “It’ll come,” Holden said with a firm nod.

  Though he surely didn’t understand everything, his reassurance encouraged Jace. As an extra measure of comfort, he silently reached out to Elôm for guidance and to make His will clear.

  Jace cleared his throat now. Time to turn the conversation away from himself. He looked at Rayad and couldn’t hold back a smile. “So, when will you find a wife? Mrs. Hess has been very friendly.”

  The meddlesome widow had arrived early last fall and set her sights on Rayad immediately. She was never subtle in her hints of affection toward him, especially in the few days leading up to the wedding. And the more resistant Rayad was, the more determined she became.

  He snorted. “No, we will not have this conversation.”

  Jace traded a glance with the others, and Holden let out a low chuckle. Rayad shot him a scathing look. While Jace might have liked to see Rayad settle down with a good woman, the Widow Hess wasn’t the one. It would take someone of rare quality for that. After all, Rayad was very set in his ways having lived his life as a single man, and quite content with it. Jace wasn’t sure anyone could change that.

  Before long, the last of the sunlight faded, replaced by strings of lanterns in the trees. A lively tune of flutes and hand drums from a group of crete musicians quickly had everyone backing to the perimeter as couples stepped in to dance.

  Jace sensed her near even before he looked down to find Kyrin at his side. Her tentatively hopeful smile tied his stomach in knots. He must have looked half-sick, because she grabbed his hand and smiled widely.

  “Jace, you don’t have to dance.” Laughter tinged her voice. “It’s perfectly all right. I only came to see if you felt any better about it.”

  The answer to that was a definite no. Dancing was not one of his strong suits. He was dreadful, actually. He could singlehandedly take on five men and fight with perfect accuracy, but dancing made him clumsy. Even a couple of lessons with Kyrin leading up to the wedding hadn’t produced any improvement.

  “Really, it’s fine,” she insisted. “There are plenty of dance partners if you don’t mind me dancing with someone else. After all, you men outnumber the women almost four to one.”

  She gazed up at him. Though she didn’t appear saddened, it still must disappoint her, and that stung. She had been so enthusiastic about trying to teach him.

  “I don’t mind.” The annoying itch inside him might not agree, but he
wouldn’t stop her from having fun tonight.

  She squeezed his hand. “You try to enjoy yourself here, and I’ll be back in a little while.”

  As she walked away in search of a dance partner, Jace let out a heavy breath. Idiot. He winced. He shouldn’t be so hard on himself, but he still hadn’t fully broken the habit. Just one of the many areas Elôm was working on.

  Folding his arms, Jace watched Kyrin dance first with Aaron and then Mick. For the third dance, she found Timothy as a partner since Leetra did all in her power to avoid him. By this time, Jace shifted restlessly, the itch growing. He wasn’t jealous, and certainly not resentful toward any of them. Kyrin’s affections were devoted exclusively to him, of that he was certain, yet to stand here while she danced with everyone else ate at him. How could he let fear of something as trivial as dancing keep him from her?

  Time to man up and do what he should have done all along. When the current dance ended, Jace wove through the couples toward Kyrin. Coming up behind her, he captured her hand and swept her around to face him. Her eyes rounded in surprise and delight. So what if he made a fool of himself?

  Holding her as close as was proper, they joined in the new dance—a slower one, thankfully. At least he could try to do this right. His feet moved like lead at first, but after a minute or two, he let himself relax. How could he not while staring into her smile? Soon, even the music faded.

  Somewhere in the middle of it, Kyrin murmured, “Jace, you’ve been holding out on me.” Her voice was teasingly reprimanding. “You can dance.”

  Could he? He hadn’t noticed, but now that he’d left behind his pride, it did come more easily. Well, good, because he didn’t intend to share her any more than he had to.

  Exhausted, Kyrin might have swayed on her feet if not for her hand tucked so securely in Jace’s. She leaned into his shoulder with a smile. They had barely parted for the last couple of hours since he had stepped in to dance with her.

  As the music wound down and the crowd thinned, the two of them walked toward Kyrin’s mother, who sat on a bench at the edge of the gathering. Meredith curled up next to her, fast asleep. The little girl had done her share of dancing, but the late night had caught up with her.