But he’d found no satisfaction in it. It hadn’t brought his father back. It hadn’t made up for the loss of his wings. And due to Sal’s stubborn intervention, it hadn’t even brought the death he’d thought might be better to have than to forever live with the memory of what he’d once been.
“No, I don’t want to spill their blood. But I will if it’s to defend me or mine.”
Valerian raised a brow. “I see.” Was that disappointment in his eyes? “If you have no further questions, I have other business to attend to.”
Before Torren could say anything, Valerian rose on his wings and flew out of sight.
Wondering at the strange conversation, Torren slowly made his way back to where the others were still waiting for him. Zelene smiled as he joined her and told him Mallean and Micca would be with them for the midday meal. Lii had promised a feast, and she was sure the two of them couldn’t possibly eat it all.
Not relishing the thought of returning to his old home alone, he was relieved the others would also be coming.
When they arrived, Lii greeted them warmly. She glowed with happiness at being able to serve such a large and illustrious party. She brought food out until none of them could eat any more.
“Zelene, I didn’t know your sister was such a gifted cook.” Mallean gave a contented sigh as she leaned back in her chair.
“Oh, please!” Lii giggled as if she were a girl, her cheeks coloring at the compliment.
“Our line has normally shown a flair for one skill or another,” Zelene said, “though in my case, I’m afraid my sister got all of mine.”
“Oh, no, mine is modest by far. Cooking is easy, and I’m not the one who’s risen to the role of councilor,” Lii countered. “Even Torren was showing some promising skills. He possessed a true flair for art, especially in pottery.” She turned to look at her nephew. “Landers do that, don’t they? Did you pursue either one with them? I’m sure their techniques, though, are probably different from ours.”
He didn’t look at his aunt as he made himself answer. “Yes, they do have a broad spectrum of techniques and styles. But no, I didn’t pursue those things there.”
His neutral tone made her eyes grow suddenly sober. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear it.”
“What…what interests occupied you, then, my son?” Zelene didn’t look at him as she asked. It was almost as if she felt she shouldn’t ask, but hadn’t been able to help herself.
Torren told himself he should be used to unwanted questions by now. “I learned how to till the land, to care for farm animals, how to make cheese and spin thread. I learned how to track animals and trap them for food, and what things are good and bad to eat in the wild. I even learned about herbs and how to use them.”
Darrek had started teaching him the last few after the time he’d tried to run away. As the old farmer put it, he and his wife had gone through too much effort to save him for them to allow him to just run off and die from ignorance. If he were going to leave them, he’d have to have the skills to survive. The memory brought an unexpected half-smile.
“There really wasn’t much time for artistic pursuits while at the farm, and even less while on campaign.”
He realized his error too late.
“On…campaign?” Lii asked.
“Ah, yes, Lander warfare,” he answered. “It’s how I made a living for a time.”
He watched his mother’s eyes grow sad.
“You may soon not be the only Chosen to pick such a foreign profession.” Mallean stated with a knowing look.
Her statement reminded them of the increased martial attitude of some of their people.
“It won’t come to that,” Lii said with conviction. “We have Aen now. Everything will go back to how it used to be.”
Neither councilor voiced an opinion.
“How long has Tel Valerian been head of the council?” Torren wanted to know but also hoped the question would move their thoughts away from things better avoided. Larana’s hair clip felt cold against his chest.
Mallean answered. “He was chosen by the council two years after Aen was kidnapped, when it’d become obvious her return wasn’t assured.”
“He’s been wonderful,” Zelene added. “A pillar of strength for our people. He’s kept us on track through all our troubles and setbacks. He’s been blessed by El for our benefit.”
Micca threw Torren a telling look, knowing as he did but his mother didn’t there was a chance Valerian might be involved in Aen’s current predicament.
“Aside from you, he is one of the Chosen with the most exposure to Landers. His father often took him along during his time as ambassador, and then later Valerian volunteered to aid one of the others before he’d become old enough to hold the post himself.”
Torren nodded, finding the information somewhat at odds with the strange questions Valerian had leveled at him earlier. “What of Symeas?”
Zelene laughed. “He’s had some dealings with Landers as well, and it’s been said he’s actually spent time with some outside of the usual contractual talks, but this is only due to his great interest in animals and plants. He’s always going on about how Landers are wasting the First Mother’s gifts.” A mischievous smile touched her lips. “He can be quite amusing if you get him talking about those topics. Just don’t expect him to stop anytime soon!”
Lunch was delicious and pleasant, Lii making the most of her chance to play host. Even so, it seemed to him there was an undercurrent of tension in the air, affecting everything said or done. It was a true measure of the council’s fear that rumors of what was truly going on hadn’t yet leaked out to the general populace. Either that, or the truth was so horrible no one willingly wanted to face it as long as they had a choice.
“I’ll have dessert out in a few minutes. Hoped you saved some room.” With a smile, Lii started collecting the dishes. Offered help, she turned it down. Zelene, however, insisted.
“You’ve done enough. And since this is my home, too, I should at least share some of the burden.”
Not able to dispute this, her sister gave in.
Alone with Micca and Mallean, Torren shifted in his seat to address them.
“Time is running out,” he said quietly. “The Vassal won’t awaken when we reach Caeldanage, and we’re not really any closer to helping her or finding out who’s responsible.”
Mallean said nothing, but Micca blanched.
“Have we no hope, then? None at all?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t say that. But there are some things that need to be set in motion.”
“What do you suggest?” Mallean asked.
“Does the council keep documents on where people have been assigned—councilors, ambassadors, their aides?”
She nodded. “Of course. Most are kept here in the Reservoir of Knowledge. As El would have it, its maintenance falls under my jurisdiction. I’m sure I can help you find whatever you require.”
Torren glanced in the direction his mother and aunt had gone, then looked back at his two companions. “Good. There are a couple of things I want to search for there that may help me get some information I need. Unfortunately, with time being as short as it is, I can’t wait until we reach Caeldanage to try and get the rest of it. Micca, if you’re willing, or if you know of someone you trust enough to do it, I’m going to need some messages delivered to Sal. The sooner they get to him the better.”
“If…if it will help Aen, of course, anything you need.” Micca’s expression was earnest. “Does it have something to do with the name you asked us about before?”
Before he could answer, Zelene and Lii returned.
“Here it is, as promised.” Lii set down a large bowl of fresh fruits and a smaller one full of a thick white concoction. Zelene was right behind her bringing a ladle and several small plates. Lii had a smile on her face as she served each of them the delectable treat.
“Zelene, would you mind very much if I borrowed your son this afternoon?” Mallean asked c
asually. “I thought I’d get his story on Aen’s rescue for the Reservoir of Knowledge.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Her eyes lit with pleasure. “I’m sure Aen would wish it. Having a record of it will help give others an understanding in the future of the courage it took, especially when her kidnapping will seem like a far-off fantasy.”
Torren looked away, not feeling Larana’s return had anything to do with courage.
“You will come join us again for supper, though, won’t you, Torren?” Lii waited for his answer with expectation.
“I’ve put you through so much trouble already.”
“No, no, we’d love to have you.” She waved his objection away. “Please do join us.”
He glanced at his mother and saw his aunt’s expectation mirrored there. “Yes, of course. I’ll be here.”
Their joyous smiles were almost more than he could take. Why did they care so much? He should have been dead to them years ago.
Chapter Twenty-One
After dessert was finished, Micca, Torren and Mallean took their leave and headed off in the direction of the coliseum. Not far from there was one of the few two-story buildings on the island. It was walled rather than open to the outside, and long, thin windows were cut into the solid stone, glass covering the apertures to protect the contents inside while allowing as much light as possible to enter.
Paper was one of the commodities the Chosen didn’t produce on their own. Along with metals and some raw goods not found in the high mountains or plateaus, paper was one of the main items the Chosen asked for in trade when contracting to move Lander cargo from place to place.
As Torren entered, the scent of wood and paper assaulted his nostrils. Memories flooded him of other times he’d come to this place with his father. He recalled how he’d stared up in awe at shelf after shelf of rolled parchments containing the knowledge of the Chosen and the wisdom imparted to them by El. He could almost hear his father’s soft voice explaining to him the color-coding of the filing system. It sent a saddened shiver coursing through him.
“You can use the keeper’s office,” Mallean offered. “If you’ll tell us what you’re looking for, Micca and I will see what we can find. You’ll be able to study the information there at your leisure and in private.”
“Thank you, that would work just fine.”
Torren waited to make his requests until they’d climbed to the second floor and gone to the back, where there was a small room hidden behind loaded shelves. The room held a small, utilitarian desk and chair as well as a convenient shelf holding writing implements, seals and several kinds of paper.
Once inside, he turned to the other two. “What I need, if you can find it, is information on the five councilors who had dinner with Aen that day. I want to find out what posts they held in what Lander cities, or mention of any other time they might have been below for extended periods of time.” He noted Mallean didn’t appear disturbed, though she was included in the list. “Is it possible?”
Mallean nodded, looking thoughtful. “Yes, I think so. It’ll take some work, but between the three of us we should be able to gather the information in a few hours.”
“Would it be all right for me to use some of the materials here?” he asked, his mind already moving on to all he needed to ask Sal.
“Yes, please do. In the meantime, Micca and I will go find the bulk of what we’ll need.”
“Thank you.”
Grabbing a sheet of paper, Torren sat down and got to work. He’d finished most of what he wanted to say by the time the others returned, their arms filled with scrolls.
Setting them on the table, Mallean and Micca split the scrolls three ways and started going through them, creating a list as they went along. Torren asked her to write down the names they would be looking for, not totally sure he remembered everything he should of the Chosen’s written language. He started out slowly; but as the fluid characters grew more and more familiar, his speed increased.
The first time his search accidentally brought him across his father’s name he faltered for a moment. Indulging himself, he read long enough to learn it was an entry listing Lar’s service to Waxia, one of the cities in the southern part of the empire. It wasn’t something he thought he’d ever known. It felt even stranger to realize he himself had been there not a year or so before. He went back to work.
Alternatively, Mallean or Micca would remove some of the scrolls they’d finished with and fetch others. By the time they stopped bringing any more, the light from outside had grown dim.
Mallean lit a brazier as Micca compiled the three lists. Torren translated the final list into the empire’s Lander alphabet. When he was done, he added a few more lines to Sal’s letter and put the list behind it. He then rolled the documents and sealed them with a cord and wax.
“You really think this information will help Aen?” Micca asked as Torren handed the bundle over to him.
He tried his best not to appear too hopeful. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
Turning away from the Flyer, he gathered up all the papers they’d been taking notes on, including the final list. Using the brazier, he burned them to ash.
Micca sighed. “I guess I should get ready to go, then. Uncle Rux will be quite surprised to see me.” He gave Torren a half-grin. “I should be able to make it there hours before first light. I’ll use the same ruse as before when I go meet your friend.”
Torren nodded. “Thanks.”
Suddenly, Micca’s expression turned uncertain. “Can I…might I ask a boon of you?”
Surprised by the request, he stared at the young Flyer. “What is it?”
“Will you stay by her side tonight? I’ll speak to the guards, and they’ll allow it. I just don’t feel comfortable leaving her, but if I know you’re going to be there with her, it would greatly ease my mind.”
Torren felt Larana’s hair clip pressing against his chest. “All right.”
Micca grasped his arm with heartfelt gratitude. “Thank you.”
Torren started toward his mother’s place and, to his amazement, found Mallean accompanying him.
“Micca mentioned something to me that was rather curious.”
He said nothing, waiting to see where she would go. He caught her looking at him inquisitively from the corner of her eye.
“It seems you came in late last night, looking bedraggled and with your face scratched,” she went on. “Micca told me you wouldn’t talk of it.”
“That’s true.” He felt a taste of his previous anger rise inside him. “And I still won’t.” He almost glanced down at his belt, where he’d strapped on his dagger that morning. He didn’t intend to be caught unprepared again. He wondered if she’d noticed it.
“I see.” She walked beside him for several minutes without saying anything. “Was there someone here who decided you were a Lander?”
Torren’s gaze snapped over to hers. He cursed, realizing by his very reaction he’d given himself away.
Mallean sighed, looking away. “It is but more evidence of how low we’ve come. Anyone who bothered to look at you would be able to tell you’re one of us. That those of us who knew your father have confirmed your identity should have also been enough. I was astounded when it was questioned at the council meeting.
“Though, now I look back on it, I suppose I shouldn’t have been. Our people see Landers hiding in every shadow these days. It bodes ill for our future if Aen does not awaken soon.” She glanced back at him, her eyes troubled and sad. “You were greatly wronged, yet kept silent at the meeting, saving us from embarrassment. For this, I thank you. Still, it grieves me we would treat one of our own this way.”
“Actually, I’ve been treated better than I would have ever expected,” he admitted. He said nothing else as they arrived at his mother’s house.
“You are too kind,” Mallean said. “In some ways, you are very much like your father.”
He nodded, not wanting to argue the point.
&n
bsp; “Enjoy the time with your family. I will see you on the morrow.”
“Goodnight.” He watched her out of sight then made his way up to the columned outer area of the house.
Conversation at dinner was light, carried mainly by Lii. Torren ate in silence, his thoughts on what might occur the next day. He was sure his mother’s thoughts lay there as well, as he noticed she only picked at her food.
As soon as it felt polite to do so, he extricated himself and bade them goodnight. This time, as he made his way back to his room, he didn’t allow himself to get lost in his thoughts, instead keeping his senses primed on his surroundings. He needn’t have worried; he arrived at the Vassal’s home without incident.
With Micca no longer there, their shared room was quiet. After a more leisurely bath than he’d enjoyed the last few days, he took the time to try and repair his torn shirt. Finally, having nothing else to keep him occupied, he made his way toward the main bedroom. Stopping before the covered doorway, he slowly drew the cover back, but didn’t go in.
“Excuse me.”
One of the two Flyers he had met here before appeared without getting too close. When he saw who was there, the guard moved out of the way to let him in. “We’ve been expecting you.”
As soon as he entered the dim room, he spotted the second guard hidden in the shadows.
“Tyleen is with her now.”
The two made no move to follow as he headed for the curtained side of the room. Pausing there for a moment, he pushed the drapery aside and walked into the lit space beyond.
Larana lay in the wide bed, in the same position he’d seen her before. Torren wasn’t sure, but he thought she seemed paler than when he’d been here last. How long would it be before she started to waste away, before the ravages of unconsciousness showed visibly to where no one could deny the truth?
“Has there been any change?” He aimed the question to his right where Tyleen stood meekly, trying hard not to call attention to herself.
Vassal of El Page 22