Seed of Scorn

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Seed of Scorn Page 9

by Aaron-Michael Hall


  “Training?” Temian asked.

  “Aye, with the sword and martial defenses. He wants the boy to be a Chosen when he comes of age.”

  “Are you certain of this, Nakaris?” Danimore asked.

  “He speaks true,” Nzuri said. “Beilzen came to me two suns past, asking for my assistance to teach him his letters and numbers. When he came to me, they were together hand in hand. If Fáelán had any fear or worries toward his father, it didn’t show. He was well groomed and attired, and both seem happy with each other and quite content.”

  “Splendid. It’s my hope their bond only grows stronger. We must keep faith that this union will be a lasting and healthy one for not just Fáelán, but also Beilzen,” Danimore said, standing. “Is there more or are we adjourned?”

  “That’s all,” Nzuri said. “However, we’re deciphering more of the scrolls. Once more is learned, we’ll need a full council meeting.”

  Danimore nodded. “I’m interested to learn what the scrolls may reveal. Will you be returning to your chambers now, Nzuri?”

  “No, I must send a message to my brother. He’ll take leave of Noraa soon, and I’d like to coordinate the transport of more scrolls.”

  “Very good, then. Send our regards to the Osmonts, Olam, and Saifu as well,” Danimore said as he made his way to the door. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  He couldn’t focus on the meeting, and would offer an apology later for what seemed to be his lack of interest. His mind was on his wife and her displeasure with his decision. Some way, he had to ease her mind and calm her spirit.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Brothers Xaahn

  The men rode in silence, using hand signals to communicate as they veered off the rutted path beneath a bower of trees. Soon the horses’ clopping hooves were muted by the ground covering and echoes of wildlife taking refuge near the hilly coppice.

  Déshì and Weisheng were aware of the trio of riders shadowing them: their attempts at stealth were lacking at best. They’d maintained a reasonable distance, but the brothers had noticed the men observing them at the inn, and then their furtive pursuit soon after they’d departed Kumasi.

  When the riders increased their pace, Déshì decided to provide their pursuers an opportunity they’d not likely forego. He gestured toward a narrow path snaking around a hillock. The stream nestled down into the slight hill was an ideal location, providing both a strategic campsite, and more importantly, an excellent vantage. There was ample foliage and boulders to use as cover, and with only the one path leading down to the stream, the men would either approach through the grass on foot, or attempt to retain their advantage on horseback. Either way, the brothers would be ready.

  Weisheng dismounted, leading his horse to the water’s edge. He kept his head down, but his eyes continuously scanned the tree-lined area. When his brother came to his side, he gestured up to the path.

  “I hear them,” Weisheng said, quietly. “They’re close, but slowing their pace.” He closed his eyes, resting a hand over the onyx and emerald-colored gem on his chest. For several moments, he stood motionless, feeling a subtle heat radiating from the gem. When the edges began to glimmer, Weisheng inhaled a sharp breath, suffused by the surrounding vims.

  “There are only two now,” he said, clenching his eyes. “I can see the third man in the distance, moving further away. His image is dithering, as if he’s here, but elsewhere, simultaneously.”

  As his eyes slowly opened, they emitted a faint luminescence, matching that of the gem on his chest.

  “What else can you see?” Déshì asked, studying him closely.

  “One man is veering off the path. He…he’s heading southwestward, but his companion is continuing toward us.”

  Déshì nodded, resting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “As we suspected. They’re attempting to gain a greater advantage.”

  Weisheng grinned, his eyes dimming. “Let’s not keep them in wait, Brother,” he said, tethering his horse to a low-hanging branch. After removing the tack, he pulled some items from a bag.

  “You’re the faster, so I’ll remain here and lure him to me,” Déshì said. “Do try to restrain yourself and capture the man, Weis. You know how…enthusiastic you can be at times. Focus your mind and control your impulses. We need answers, not corpses.”

  “That’s up to him.” Weisheng winked, releasing his bound hair, allowing it to drift down to cover the glyphs on the shorn sides of his scalp.

  “I’ll gather some brushwood and stones,” Weisheng said, louder than was needed. “We’ll need to start a fire before the cold sets in.”

  As he moved off, Déshì unclasped his baldric, setting it on the ground beside his bedroll. After removing his jerkin, he knelt at the water’s edge, scooping some into his hands to wash his face. He remained alert, dipping a cloth into the water, and then gliding it down his neck and bare chest. Once he’d removed his boots, his ears twitched, their tips tilting backward as a horse’s hoof beats drew nearer.

  Déshì continued washing, staying aware of the rider approaching from the rear. When he heard the man dismount, Déshì slid several shurikens in the waist of his trews, hearing an arrow being nocked behind him.

  You wouldn’t take a man from behind, would you, he thought, raising to his knees.

  In the distance, he heard the howling resonances of pursuit, knowing Weisheng had caught scent of his prey. Capture him, Brother, don’t kill him.

  “Yer needin’ ta put them hands up,” a voice rasped from behind him.

  Déshì’s mouth quirked up on one side, not moving from his position. “And if I don’t?”

  “You’ll be feelin’ my shaft through yer back soon ‘nough. Now, git ‘em up and turn ‘round real slow like.”

  “Well, far be it for me to disobey a man with a bow trained on my back,” he said, following the man’s commands. “If you’re looking for money, I fear we spent all of our silver in Kumasi.” He clucked his tongue. “My brother has quite an affinity for one of the servers at the inn.”

  The man didn’t answer. He kicked a length of rope toward Déshì, not taking the bow from its mark. “Ain’t carin’ ‘bout no coin. Gots someone want’n ta see ya. Best git that rope ‘round yer wrist and step away from that there sword of yers.”

  “An introduction? Surely, I can meet your comrade without tying myself like some animal. I’ll come with you willingly. In fact, I’ll even walk and leave my horse here. How might that be?”

  “I ain’t give ya no choices. Pick up that rope and gits ta tyin’. Tolnain ain’t one ta keep in wait.”

  With that, Déshì scrutinized the man. He’d heard that name before, and it wasn’t for anything virtuous. Tolnain was nothing more than a sellsword, committing petty crimes and wreaking havoc across Faélondul. What would such a man want with them?

  Last he’d heard, Tolnain was in Rhoyden, but that meant little. With the reports they’d received from Symeon, and their own reconnaissance, hundreds of rogues roamed across Faélondul, just as Déshì and Weisheng did. The brothers didn’t claim any village or city in Faélondul. Their homes were beyond the mainland, in Naidisia and Syahndru. Even so, whatever this Tolnain wanted, he was about to be sorely disappointed.

  “Tolnain, you say?” That must’ve been him in the inn. That’s why he appeared familiar, Déshì thought, considering his options.

  “Well, it’s possible that I possess something of greater value to offer you than this Tolnain has. Mayhaps if you’d share with me your desires, we could reach an accord. I have no quarrel with you.” He took a step forward. “It’s entirely possible that my brother and I escaped your grasp, isn’t it? Well, at least that’s what you could report. I’m certain we could work something out to our mutual benefit.”

  “Ain’t nuth’n ta work out. Ya just said ya ain’t got no coin, no ways. Besides, ya don’t go break’n no ‘greement wit Tolnain less’n ya want’n ta turn up dead. Now, pick up that rope.”

  Déshì looked down at the rope,
and then back up at the man. Whoever he was, he appeared to fear Tolnain more than he lusted for gold. By the looks of him, he should have insisted on the coin.

  The man was slight, with a threadbare cloak that scarcely fit his lithe frame. The pale hue of his skin served to accentuate his rotten teeth that stood in contrast to his wan complexion. Déshì noted his trembling hands as he held tight to the bow, still aimed at his chest.

  When a shrieking cry sounded in the distance, the man jumped, turning in the direction of the disturbance. Déshì started forward, taking advantage of the man’s lapse in attention, but he wasn’t fast enough, not like his brother would’ve been.

  The man whipped back around, tautening his draw. Déshì could see his fingers begin to loosen on the bow’s string, and a heat erupted from the pit of his stomach. Everything around him slowed, suspended in an encompassing stillness. Flames flared in Déshì’s eyes as the bowstring twanged, releasing the projectile.

  He snarled, thumping crossed arms to his chest before thrusting them down at his sides, as fire crackled from his fingertips, and engulfed his hands.

  Drawing his right arm back, he thrust his left hand forward, sending a swirling fireball toward the coming arrow. His right arm punched forward again, and then his left, repeatedly in rapid succession, as the flare in his eyes intensified, summoning more flames to him.

  Déshì stalked forward, continuing the searing bombardment until the agonized cries of his assailant wrenched him from his febrile fog.

  As the flames engulfing him subsided, Déshì’s eyes reverted, seeing the charred man writhing on the ground. Before he could extinguish the flames, a final hoarse exhalation issued from the man’s throat.

  What have I done, Déshì thought, grabbing a blanket and tossing it over the man, dousing the flames. He said a silent prayer, and then looked at his hands. The emblem in their center still pulsed, but the fires that had erupted from them were no more. “Father Ahgelon,” he said, sighing. He hadn’t taken a life in years, and did well to control his brother’s lustful appetite. Killing was sometimes a necessity, but this, he hadn’t intended.

  “Seven hells,” Déshì said, shaking his head. He rested his balled fists on his hips, looking down at the smoldering man. “Weisheng will never let me forget this.” He knelt on the ground, turning the man on his back. “Why were you so eager to die, my friend,” he said, rifling through the man’s pockets. “Forgive me. Not even one as you deserved such a fate.”

  He reached into a singed pouch, carefully removing a scorched piece of parchment, batting at the fringes and knocking the embers away.

  “Z’-R-----YN,” he said, trying to decipher what he could of the remaining words. “Mayhaps Weisheng can make sense of this.” As he pushed up to stand, he was forced back to his knees, feeling cold steel edged against his throat as his head was wrenched back.

  [3]“K’ahndelae mahn Weis aut vis’vorl suok yutāsi, kryehn sorhnye pahn’tah, Déshì Xaahn, k’iende resh vis’vorl rahymed r’rshena tak k’ahndelae?” he heard a woman say, while edging the blade closer.

  [4]“Y’einz zhrezrae,” he said, slowly raising his hands up in surrender. “Are you volunteering for the job?”

  “Someone needs to.” She sheathed her dagger, crouching beside him. “After all these years, you still attract trouble.”

  “Mayhaps I’m orchestrating these events to gain your notice. What better way than to have you come to my rescue?” He turned, facing her. “Otherwise, I’d never get to see you. Where have you been? I haven’t seen much of you of late.”

  Natelegé flipped her braids to her back, nodding. “I know, but once you’ve returned with me, you’ll understand why. I’ve been looking for you.”

  “We were on our way, but other matters took precedence,” he said, gesturing to the corpse. “We’ve felt the shift…the imbalance. Something stirs, but we haven’t ascertained the source. After we’ve visited the Animus Wood, Weis will return to Syahndru while I trek to Naidisia.”

  “Have you spoken with Mother Iya?”

  “Not as yet, but it’s past time we did so. The others will soon arrive.”

  “The others will definitely be an asset, while the Brothers Xaahn are but two, and the AsZar wishes to see you.”

  “And what of you? Am I who you want to see?”

  “I believe the AsZar’s wishes supersede my own. She’s awaiting the Brothers Xaahn, but she needs to speak with you most of all.”

  “Well, don’t tell Weis about that. He’s already jealous enough, forever in the shadow of his handsome elder brother.”

  Natelegé chuckled, and then gestured to the corpse. “Who is he?”

  “That’s what I was hoping to find out; however, he had a differing mind. At least he mentioned a sellsword named Tolnain who sent him to…detain us. Mayhaps we’ll learn more once Weis returns with his captive.”

  “Weis? You know how he changes when his blood ignites. The hunt doesn’t end until he’s captured his prey.” She sighed. “It’s usually mortal. Most likely, the man’s already dead.”

  “I won’t be doing any chiding this time. Hells, I only meant to stop the arrow, not incinerate the man. I used to have better control.”

  “It’s not your control, Déshì. Your abilities are evolving and will continue to intensify.” She rested a hand over his. “Just as mine have. There’s never been anyone like your brother and you. I know it’s been difficult at times, but that uniqueness is something I’ve always admired in you. Only your father can truly assist you during this transition.”

  “You admire me?” He grinned. “What parts, exactly?”

  She smiled, shoving him off balance. “I’m serious, Déshì. I know you want to travel to Nazil, but it’s not the time. Allow the Drah’kuus to aid the Zaxson. Once Shintao and Zol arrive, they can provide more assistance. You’re not invulnerable, you know.” She leaned in, pecking his cheek. “Besides, after you return, I’ll even tell you exactly what I admire.”

  “That alone might be worth the trip. But I can’t sit idle and do nothing. As you’ve said, my brother and I are disparate from the others. Our abilities differ from theirs.”

  “They do, and that’s something the AsZar needs to speak with you about. She’s crossed the threshold, Déshì, and your father awaits.”

  “I can’t remain in Naidisia. Not now. I can feel the disturbance, the shift in the balance. I’m needed here in Faélondul. Both my brother and me.”

  “You are, but even Weis’ abilities don’t mirror your own. You are as your father, Déshì. As such, you need to return to the Fire Lands of Naidisia. Whatever is causing this shift, the AsZar will be ready.”

  Unforeseen

  “How did you learn to do this?” Aizen asked, watching her replace the horse’s shoe.

  Droxahn brushed the dirt from her hands, tossing her long, white hair over her shoulder. “I learned from my father. He tended the stables, and I was always underfoot. When I was older, Ahvixx taught me how to care for the horses properly. We both love horses. I guess we inherited that from our father.”

  “Is that why you come here so often? I mean, because it reminds you of him…of your father?” he asked, taking a seat next to her.

  “How do you know that I come here often?” Her brow raised. “I’ve never seen you here when I come, only the stable workers.”

  Aizen’s face flushed, considering his response. He had been following her. It wasn’t due to any distrust he felt, only curiosity.

  “I—I noticed you as I passed. I enjoy riding and—and caring for the horses, too. I wasn’t spying on you, you know? I wanted to talk with you, but I didn’t think you wanted any company. Both you and Ahvixx tend to keep your distance from everyone, and I wouldn’t intrude upon your privacy.”

  She smiled, feeling it was more than that. “It isn’t an intrusion to offer friendship, Aizen. My brother and I have been here for quite some time and no one appears to have an interest in getting to know us.”

&nb
sp; “That isn’t true. We didn’t know how to approach you. The two of you ate alone and didn’t accept any offers from our parents to join us. We were instructed to permit you your solitude and allow you to come to us when you were ready. If I’d known differently, I would’ve spoken to you long ago.”

  “Well, I guess I have a confession to make, Aizen.”

  “A confession? What could you possibly have to confess?” he teased.

  She bit her bottom lip, meeting his eyes. “I’ve been watching you, too.”

  “Too?”

  “Yes, too. Just like you’ve been watching me.”

  When he attempted to respond, she took his hand, shaking her head.

  “There’s nothing to explain; not to me. When we first arrived, I noticed you and your brother sparring in the practice yard. I’ve returned each morning since to watch your training…to watch you,” she clarified.

  “Me?” he asked, looking at her with new interest. “You’ve been watching me?”

  “I have. Does that bother you?”

  “No, I mean, I just didn’t know that you were interested in our training. If you like I can—”

  “I’m not interested in your training, Aizen. I’m interested in you.” Her lips twitched up in a grin, noting his shocked expression. “Now, would you like to join me on a ride or just continue following me from a distance?”

  When his eyes widened, so did Droxahn’s smile. He relaxed then, reaching to brush some hay from her hair. When he leaned forward, she met his lips with hers. He jerked, yet held there a moment more before pulling away.

  “I—I didn’t mean to—”

  “I did,” she said. “Should we ask Ahni and Ameya to join us, or shall we ride alone; just you and me?”

  “To—tomorrow. We can ask them tomorrow. I’d rather ride together…I mean, just you and me. Alone.”

  “Good,” she said, taking his hand and leading him to the horses.

  Ahvixx watched as they left the stables. Once the doors closed behind them, he turned, rushing into the citadel to find Olam. He was in his study, buried beneath a pile of old parchments.

 

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