Seed of Scorn

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  The Desu Beasts’ screeches seemed to fade and then crescendo as they continued circling above the citadel. The Protectors stayed in the courtyard, each wielding their ax and protecting the citadel grounds.

  “Was it Molag? Did he dare attack my wife and son?” Pentanimir demanded, pounding a fist on the table. His fear had dissipated, leaving only feelings of rage and retribution in its place.

  “Cousin, be calm,” Aronin said. “Molag didn’t act alone. These men are loyal to his cause, but none will directly implicate him. Some of the prisoners are guards from Nazil, and they aren’t alone in their allegiance. We need to continue their interrogation if we are to learn the truth. Mayhaps with your presence they’ll be more forthcoming.”

  “He speaks true, Zaxson,” Urdan said. “Three of the prisoners were assigned to the Zaontras’ retinue. Sir Neufmarche and Sir Middleton can provide the details of the attack prior to the Chosen of Yarah’s arrival.” Urdan cocked his head in confusion. “Sir Benoist, we sent the message to Nazil not long ago. How then did you arrive so swiftly to Yarah?”

  “We didn’t receive your message, Caretaker. The Protectors arrived in Nazil and Cazaal, informing us of the circumstances here.”

  “The Guardians intervened?” Jarin said, looking at Nakaris. “You spoke true.”

  “Jarin, speak plainly. My wife and son were nearly killed in this attack. If you have something to say, do so now.”

  “Zaxson,” Nakaris interrupted. “He’s speaking of what happened after the carriage was attacked. Wosen kept the attacker’s at bay while I continued toward Yarah with Lady Benoist. But the archers had strategic positions along the roadside, and the carriage was bombarded with flaming arrows. I had no choice but to cut the horses free in an effort to extract your wife and son.” He shook his head, vividly picturing the dire scene. “The carriage was engulfed in flames, and…and I was certain that they couldn’t have survived.”

  Pentanimir’s face paled, unable to keep that image from his mind. “Both my wife and son are alive, Sir Middleton,” he managed. “Regardless of the circumstances, you performed your duty both to Nazil and me. Please, continue your recounting.”

  “When I went to her, went to free them from the carriage, there was someone inside with them. He—he was there, but he wasn’t. It was more an apparition of a man: not solid or real. The guard lay dead at the Zaontras’ feet, burnt to cinders, but this—this man hovered over your wife and son. He commanded the flames as easily as you or I would do a sword. His body emitted a bright light that acted as water to the fire. He shielded them from the flames and vanished into nothing once the danger was no more.”

  “He?” Pentanimir’s voice cracked.

  “Yes sir, Zaxson,” Wosen said. “I saw the man, too. Upon our return to Nazil, I was going to report the same.”

  Before the Zaxson could respond, Nzuri burst into the room.

  “She wakes, Zaxson! The Zaontras is awake!”

  CHAPTER thirteen

  The “Y” in the Road

  He pushed the uneven mop of hair over his shoulder, only to have it fall back in his face. Ahvixx sighed in frustration, tucking the hair behind his ears, continuing to tend the temple gardens. This was a chore he enjoyed. Not only did he admire the garden’s beauty, but he enjoyed the solitude it offered him, too. With the approaching cold season, the skies appeared mostly grey as the days grew shorter. Not this day. A bright sun alit the sky, chasing most of the chill from the pine-scented air.

  Kneeling in front of his favorite bush, he lost himself in the beauty and serenity of his surroundings. Here we can be alone, he thought, remembering how Sahma had spoken those words so sweetly. For a moment, he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face, and the warmer sensation that the memory elicited.

  “You cut your hair,” the sweet voice said, bringing him from his meditation.

  He didn’t turn, though his heartbeat quickened, urging him to follow its commands. It took all of his will to remain kneeling, and not rush into her arms. Ahvixx prayed silently, pleading for his heart and mind to still.

  It was Sahma: the only woman he’d ever loved or wanted to love. He’d known she’d come to him eventually, but he didn’t know whether that was a blessing or a curse. His heart hadn’t changed, and a pain erupted in his chest as he thought about the dissolution of their relationship.

  “I loved your hair,” she continued, gliding her hand over his uneven, tangled tresses. “It was beautiful, Ahvixx, just as you are.”

  He flinched, not hearing her approach. Ahvixx’s eyes closed, enjoying her tender caress. Even now, he could feel her love, although she offered it as merely a friend.

  “It—it was tangled, and I didn’t know how to care for it.”

  “Never did you have to. I tried, Ahvixx, many times, but you wouldn’t see me.”

  Ahvixx inhaled a steeling breath, standing and turning around to face her. Gods, she’s beautiful, he thought, regarding her fully. She’d donned a fitted crimson gown with jeweled accents lining the low bust line. The cut and fabric of the stunning gown accentuated her sensuous curves, revealing the woman that she’d become. Sahma’s smooth, caramel-colored skin glistened beneath the sunlight, adding a twinkle to her pale eyes. It was the first time that he’d seen her with her long, curly hair fastened atop her head with only tendrils hanging down to frame her soft features. As he cast his gaze downward, he noticed the bound hair in her hand.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said aloud before he realized.

  Her smile was wistful, as she took a step forward. “And you look like a helding priest.”

  “Is this not how I appeared when first we met?”

  “When we met, yes, but not so when we parted.”

  Ahvixx nodded, motioning to the stone bench.

  “Is this why you’ve come? To tell me about how I’ve displeased you?”

  “Displeased me? Never could you do so, Ahvixx. Don’t you know why I’m here?”

  “Of that, I wouldn’t know. Would you like to take a walk? I was unable to do so in Nazil.”

  “Nazil?” she said, reaching for his hand. When he moved from her reach, her expression sadden, and she slid further from him. “Do I no longer have a place in your heart?”

  “I’ll always love you, Sahma. Can’t I express that love here just as I did in the citadel?”

  “It isn’t the same,” she said, reaching for his hand again.

  “Why—why isn’t it?” he asked, relishing the feel of her soft skin against his. “I’ll always be here for you, Sahma, just as I promised. When you wed Lord Swayne, I’ll come and celebrate your bond with you, but my place is here.”

  “Wedding? Lord Swayne and I are only friends.”

  He studied her face, gauging her every inflection. “I thought—I—I—in Nazil, you seemed enamored by his compliments and flirtations. Then, you accepted his invitation to Yarah.” He shook his head. “I thought you were pursuing a relationship with him.”

  “Jarin is a wonderful friend and nothing more. I accepted Ariana’s invitation to Yarah, not Jarin’s. Had you remained in the garden that night or allowed my visits, you would’ve known about his betrothal. I do love him, but merely as a friend. The love I feel for you surpasses anything or anyone else. How couldn’t you know that?”

  “Me?” he asked, standing abruptly. He ran his hands over his hair, sorting through all what she’d said, while replaying past conversations in his mind. He paced back and forth, pausing only long enough to look into her eyes before moving forward.

  “Me?” he asked again, staring down at her. He’d told her numerous times, and she was the one who didn’t understand the depth of his feelings. Now, she was questioning him.

  “Yes, Ahvixx. You,” she said, standing to face him. When he attempted to step back, she grasped his waist, holding him in place.

  “Ahvixx, you became so distant in Nazil. I wanted to be with you, but felt that you were pushing me away. It wasn’t your work
with the scrolls, I’m speaking of the times you weren’t working, yet didn’t have time to see me. What was I supposed to do? I told you that I’ll never love anyone as much as I love you. Why would I make love to you if I wasn’t in love with you?” She met his eyes. “Had you told me plainly—”

  He kissed her then, her last statement replaying melodiously in his mind.

  “I’m in love with you, Sahma,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. He stared intensely into her eyes, allowing no room for misunderstanding.

  “I’ve been in love with you since before you came to my bedchamber, before we made love. In Nazil, I was going to tell you and ask for you to become my wife. I wasn’t being distant, I was working, yes, but I was thinking of how to convey my deepest feelings to you.

  “When I met you in the gardens, you…he was there, and I was devastated. The way you looked at him is how I wanted you to look at me. My heart shattered that night and has remained so ever since.”

  “Ahvixx—”

  He kissed her again, more passionately than before. “No, you’re going to listen to me,” he asserted more forcefully than he’d ever spoken to her before. “If it’s my heart that I must explain, hear all of my words now. There’s no one else in these lands that I’d want to share my life or my heart.

  “I’m no lord, caretaker, or of high birth. I’m merely Ahvixx Ahllendale, your dearest friend who desires you as my own. Only you, Sahma. Not just as your friend, but as a man, and a husband. I can’t promise you riches or servants or stables full of horses, but I can promise you that I’ll love you more than any man could love a woman.

  “I promise to cherish you more than any rich man’s greatest treasures. I promise to always place you at the head of my life, to never keep my thoughts from you, and always tell you my deepest desires and fears. Without you, I’m incomplete. I not only want you in my life, I need you to be a part of it.

  “Do you hear me? I’m in love with you. Will you be my wife and make me the happiest and most blessed man in all these lands?” Ahvixx said, more resolute and confident than she’d ever seen him.

  “It’s always been you, Ahvixx,” she said. “From the beginning, I knew that we were special with and to each other. We were so alike, you and I; in our hearts, though, you kept yours shielded from me, and at times even from yourself. Still, I knew. I didn’t want to lose you as my friend by pursuing you as a husband.

  “When we were in Nazil, I asked you, I needed to know. You began to give yourself so freely after I came to your chamber. I asked you, and you didn’t answer plainly. But now there’s no doubt, Ahvixx. I didn’t want to risk our friendship, do you understand? If I could only have you in my life as a dearest friend, I accepted that rather than lose you.”

  “I tried to tell you many times, even the morning after we’d made love. You didn’t hear me as you do now.”

  “I do, and I want you to be with me always.”

  “Does this mean that you’re accepting me…our…our promise? You’ll be my wife?”

  She giggled, stroking his thick, tangled hair. “Yes and yes. But first, I must tend your hair. It’s just awful, Ahvixx.”

  He laughed aloud. “Anything for you, my love,” he said, scooping her up in his arms.

  “Ahvixx?” Asmaa called out from behind them.

  “Nohek Asmaa?”

  “Are you to tell me why one of my young heldings is creating such a spectacle in the temple gardens?”

  “Such a display is necessary with news as great as ours, Nohek.”

  “Oh?” Asmaa suppressed his smile. “Mayhaps you should share such news, young Ahvixx.”

  “Nohek Asmaa, your assessment was correct. After much prayer and a most pleasant conversation with Lady Sahma, I’ve decided that becoming a priest isn’t where my heart truly leans.”

  “Indeed?” Asmaa said, smiling. “Do tell.”

  “Nohek Asmaa, I’ve asked Lady Sahma Voney for her promise, and she’s graciously accepted.”

  “I see. And what do her parents think of this?”

  “My parents will allow me to follow my heart, Nohek.”

  “Then we should visit the citadel and speak with Saifu and Yeshe. If I know my young helding as I feel I do, he’ll want to solidify this arrangement and begin preparations for your ceremony.”

  Ahvixx smiled, offering an agreeing nod. “I’d let no more time pass than necessary, Nohek. We’ve waited long enough.”

  “Agreed,” Asmaa said, escorting them from the gardens.

  Enemy of my Enemy

  “How much farther?” the man asked, stepping over a sewage-filled puddle. His nose crinkled from the stench of the dank tunnel.

  “There’s an overhang up ahead. We can rest there if needed.”

  “What I need is to be free from this wretched stench and blackness. Do you even know where you lead?”

  “I know well enough for our purpose, and you should be grateful for that,” Nigel sneered, growing weary of the constant complaints.

  They’d been traveling nearly three suns through the snaking tunnels beneath Nazil. No one had traversed the vast network of passageways in years. More often than not, they ran into collapsed earthen ceilings or dead ends, causing them to retrace their steps. The underways weren’t maintained, and most knew nothing of their existence.

  “Grateful? You rouse me from a warm bed, and the comfort of my wife, and I should be grateful?”

  Nigel halted and turned, putting the torchlight between them. “You’re a fool, Molag. If I hadn’t come for you, you’d be facing the headsman’s ax like those hedgeborn bastards you coerced.”

  “Beware how you speak, guard of Nazil,” Molag said, stepping forward.

  Nigel scoffed. “You are a fool, indeed. You attacked the Zaxson’s wife and son with a smattering of farmers and idiots. I alone could’ve defeated that mindless low-bred scum you sent against the Chosen Guard.”

  Molag’s face reddened, narrowing his eyes. He lowered a hand to his sword, with an onslaught of stinging retorts on the tip of his tongue. However, he bit back those remarks, knowing this wasn’t the time or place. Molag allowed the slight, as he peered around the enveloping blackness, realizing that Nigel held the upper hand…for now. Once they were free of these tunnels, much could be different.

  “You presume much,” Molag said instead. “I’m not aware of any attack perpetrated against the Zaxson or his family.”

  Nigel smirked, turning away. “As you say. Do you think we don’t know your plans and your movements?”

  “We? Who accuses me of such treachery?” Molag demanded with feigned innocence, clutching Nigel’s arm.

  “Your voice rings loudly in Yarah and without as well,” he said, peering down at the calloused hand and snatching away.” Too many know of your distaste for the Zaxson and those at his side. You speak too much and to far too many. Had you awaited the proper support, everyone in the caravan would’ve been killed. We have trained guards and sell-swords at our disposal, yet you opted for farmers and hedge-born churls. This is why you’re a fool, Molag. Your lack of patience, organization, and wit is a presage to your failure…and your demise.” Nigel paused, upraising a hand to silence his angered rebuttal.

  “You are fortunate, however. The one who sent me has many loyal men in service to only him: trained men who know how to strategize and how to kill, both quietly and efficiently. There are Chosen guards charged to protect the Zaxson and his family who await merely our word. They won’t suffer Pentanimir’s reign and swear fealty to this man alone.”

  “I’ll have his name,” Molag demanded, crossing his arms over his barreled chest.

  “He prefers a degree of anonymity. I’m certain that you can understand why such prudence is necessary. These are dangerous times, and no one can be certain of allegiances or allies.”

  “Agreed. Then you understand why it’s essential that I know his name. I’ve allowed you to lead me through this darkness due to the urgency of your message and the honor of
your position. Many I know in Yarah claim you as a friend, but I’ll know whom I’m supposed to meet at our journey’s end. I, for one, don’t appreciate surprises or wasting my time.”

  “All you need to know is that if not for him, you’d already be dead. He provided the map and sent me to retrieve you ahead of your idiotic and rushed plan. Your men are dead, Molag Bomgaard, yet you’re very much alive. Offer your gratitude upon our arrival or see such favor at an end. I need nothing from you.”

  “And I offer you nothing, guard of Nazil. It’s he who pulls your strings that’s of interest to me.”

  “Then move with purpose, old man. We’re nearly there, and I need to be free from your whining,” Nigel spat, sniffing the air as he pushed past. “And your stench.”

  “You play a dangerous game, Nigel. Offer more insults toward me and find my sword in your back.”

  “You’d get but one chance. I’m not a guard of Yarah. I’m a Chosen of Nazil.” He spun around, edging his dagger beneath Molag’s chin. He sucked in his breath, holding both hands in the air.

  “What are you about, Nigel?” he strained to speak.

  Nigel brought the torch forward with his other hand, forcing the blade closer against his throat. “I suffer you because it’s my duty to do so. Had the choice been mine, the Zaxson would’ve lopped off your useless head with the men you sent to the slaughter. You’re a fool, and do more to hinder our efforts than to further them. Threaten me again, and these tunnels will forever be your home,” Nigel spoke coolly, allowing the intensity in his eyes to deliver the seriousness of the threat.

  Molag nodded as much as his precarious position permitted, lowering his hands as the blade was retracted.

  “We’re nearly there,” Nigel said. “Make haste, Molag Bomgaard, and we’ll both receive what we want.”

  Pentanimir questioned not only his poor judgment, but also the tragedy his decision had nearly caused. Brahanu was safely in the citadel, but even home in Nazil didn’t seem safe enough. He wasn’t ignorant of the traitors in their midst, or the whispers of an uprising in the white city. However, even conscripting the sentries from Noraa and Kaleo didn’t appear to be enough. They were skilled, battle-seasoned warriors, but no match for Nazil’s elite Chosen Guard. This wasn’t a comforting thought. In time, the human sentries would be formidable, but Pentanimir’s greatest concerns were for the present.