Lies of Descent

by Troy Carrol Bucher

  Riam struggled against the hands and lost a chunk of hair for the effort, but it wasn’t in vain, he’d been able to get a good look to both his left and right before his head was wrenched back down. There was no sign of Loral, and he’d seen the shapes of the other children, still sleeping. The sound of the rain drumming on the deck hid the sounds of the scuffle.

  Tannon pressed harder on his chest, making it impossible to breathe. Riam thought his ribs would break.

  “I just want to talk, but if you struggle like that again and wake the others, you’ll regret it. I’ll break Vashi’s arm this time. I promise. Dunval was gentle with him compared to what I’ll do. You can’t stay together every moment.”

  Riam continued to struggle, hoping that one of the boatmen would see the commotion and help, but no one came.

  “If you insist on waking the others, I’ll start with Loral instead of Vashi,” Tannon whispered. “Notice she isn’t here? Where do you think she might be?”

  Riam froze.

  Tannon patted Riam on the cheek. “I thought that might settle you down.”

  Riam nodded as much as his captors would allow.

  “It’s too bad. She’s not worth your loyalty,” Tannon said.

  The pressure lifted from Riam’s chest. Tannon stood up, and the hand came away from Riam’s mouth. He sucked in air, and Jared and Sabat lifted him to his feet.

  With one boy on either side, they steered him to the railing. Although the moon created a light haze in the sky above them, the clouds kept the night dark. From where they stopped, he couldn’t see any of the crew.

  “Right by the edge,” Tannon told the others.

  The coaming came to right above the knees, and they’d all been warned to be careful when walking close to it. The two boys turned Riam so that the backs of his legs pressed against it. That’s when he saw Loral slip out of the darkness and join them. She wasn’t alone. Dunval held her by the shirt and walked her to the rail next to Riam. Dunval pushed her back, leaned out over the side enough to keep her off-balance, and she gripped his arm tightly to keep from falling overboard. They wouldn’t really let her fall, would they?

  “Twice you’ve made a fool out of me,” Tannon said. “You think you’re special because you had an uncle who was a Draegoran, and because you have this?” He held up the case Master Iwynd had given him. “You think this makes you better than us?” He ran his hand down the side. The seal was still intact. “I know what’s in here, crofter boy. It’s one of your uncle’s swords.”

  How did Tannon know? Master Iwynd had told him to keep the knowledge to himself, and he had. The only other people who knew about the sword and his uncle were still at the outpost.

  It suddenly dawned on Riam. Everyone but Loral.

  He looked toward her, but she didn’t look at him. Instead she stared at Tannon, her lips snarling.

  As if to confirm his thoughts, Tannon spoke. “Oh, yes. She told me. Didn’t I say that she wasn’t worth your loyalty? She told me all your secrets.”

  Loral tried to jerk away from Dunval’s grip. “It wasn’t like that. I was trying to help.” She gave up struggling and looked back and forth from Tannon to Riam. “He’s twisting it all around. I . . . I . . .”

  Tannon chuckled.

  “Oh, never mind. You won’t believe me now.”

  Maybe she’d told Tannon, but at that moment, Riam didn’t care. It must have been for a good reason. He couldn’t bring himself to think she’d betray him like everyone else. He could learn why later. Right now, he needed to find a way to get the case away from Tannon. He could feel the sword. If he could get the case back, maybe he could put a stop to all this before it went too far.

  Riam looked toward the rear of the barge, hoping one of the crewmen would see them, or that he would spy something that would help.

  “Captain’s asleep. No one awake will help. A little of my father’s silver has deafened their ears and dimmed their vision.

  “I’ve been watching you,” Tannon said, “and thinking about what I should do to you for leading the others against me. At first, I was prepared to let it go. After all, you did help save us from the Esharii at the outpost, and I’m not unreasonable.” He turned to Loral. “See, I can be practical, like you asked.”

  “You’re an ass,” Loral told him. “I should’ve known better. You haven’t changed one bit.”

  Dunval pushed her out over the water.

  “Stop!” Riam said.

  “Quiet, or I swear by the Fallen I’ll push you both overboard.” He put the end of the case against Riam’s chest and gave him a small shove. Jared’s and Sabat’s tight holds were the only things keeping him from falling.

  “What’s wrong with you? He hasn’t done anything to you,” Loral said.

  “Hasn’t done anything? You mean, hasn’t done anything except get the rabble to band against me, start fights, and soak us all with rainwater while we slept. Seems to me he’s done a lot of things, and it seems to me that he needs to learn who the real leader will be.” He pushed Riam a little farther out over the water.

  “Leave him alone.”

  Tannon swung the case around, pointing it at Loral and allowing Riam to get his balance back. “I don’t understand you. We grew up together. Why do you side with them? You know I was born for this, not him.”

  Riam put it together. Loral is a landowner’s daughter? That wasn’t what she’d told him. She’d said she was from a poor city family. Telling Tannon about the sword and his uncle hadn’t bothered Riam a moment ago, but suddenly, coupled with another lie, it suddenly did. Is there anyone who doesn’t lie to me? “I thought you were my friend,” he said softly.

  “Your friend?” Tannon laughed. “That is funny.” He stepped closer to Loral. “Did she tell you we were supposed to be married one day? That our families had an agreement?” He touched Loral’s face, and she flinched away. “After I was tested, I thought it no longer mattered. How ironic that in all of Galtare she was the only other one who carried the blood. It seems Sollus means for us to be together forever.”

  Even in the darkness, the hurt Riam felt must have been visible on his face.

  “You don’t understand. It’s not like that. I hate my father. He’s a monster. I wasn’t lying. I just didn’t tell you everything.”

  “Well, the whole marriage thing doesn’t really matter anymore,” Tannon said. He looked down at the case in his hand. “I am still curious, though. Why do you choose to follow crofter boy? What makes him so special? Is it this?” He rubbed his thumb along the seal.

  “He doesn’t hurt people because they don’t do what he says,” Loral answered. “He isn’t cruel like you or my father.”

  “He will be if he wants to survive the training.”

  “What are you talking about?” Riam asked.

  “You don’t know, none of you do, but we have to kill to complete our training—twice. It’s how we bond with our sword. They bring in criminals for us to fight.

  “You think he’s special because of this,” he held it up in front of Loral, “but he’s not. We’ll all have one eventually, as long as we pass the test to get our crystals.”

  “He’s better than you,” Loral hissed.

  Tannon stared at Loral for a moment, and then threw the case out over the rail.

  “No,” Riam called, but it was too late. The case flew out into the darkness. Riam yanked and pulled at his captors frantically, but the boys held him. The case hung in the air for one frozen moment and was gone. There was a quiet splash when it hit the water. Riam could feel the distance between him and the sword widen as it sank and the barge moved on.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because you’re not special. You are nothing but a weak little crofter boy who doesn’t know his place. You’ve been playing at being a leader, but that’s all you’ve been doing, play
ing. I’ve been trained for this, and it isn’t a game.” He turned back to Loral. “You really like him, don’t you?”

  She dropped her gaze to the deck. “Yes.”

  Tannon shook his head. “It’s sad. Everything your father did for you, and you’re willing to give yourself to a farmhand. No . . . I take that back, it’s not sad . . . it’s pathetic.”

  “There’s nothing you can do about it, Tannon.”

  “Oh, there is. I can save you from yourself.”

  “What?” Loral’s head came up.

  “Don’t hurt her. If you hurt her, I’ll—” Riam started.

  “You’ll what?” Tannon held up his hands and cocked his head questioningly. “That’s right, you’ll do nothing.”

  What is Tannon going to do, throw her in? He would go after her if Tannon did. He wasn’t a very good swimmer, but he’d do it if he had to. “I’ll save her,” he said.

  “I’m not going to push her overboard, you idiot.” Tannon stepped closer. “I’m going to get rid of you.” He punched Riam in the stomach.

  Riam doubled over, gasping.

  “Good-bye, crofter boy.” Tannon shoved Riam. Jared and Sabat let go, and—like the case a moment earlier—Riam toppled out over the water.

  The world spun round and round before the water smacked him in the face. Disoriented and stunned, he plummeted beneath the surface of the river. He tried to keep from breathing in water, but his body betrayed him, and he sucked it in. His lungs burned as they filled. He gagged and choked uncontrollably. He couldn’t tell down from up. It was all the same. He breathed in more water. He flailed for the surface, desperate, but couldn’t reach it.

  He was going to drown, just like his father. Riam stopped flailing and a calm settled over him. Where is the justice in this? He’d come all this way, seen everyone around him lie and betray him, only to drown. It all flashed before him again—his grandfather being stabbed, his uncle Gairen torn away, every lie they told him, from Lemual to Loral. An uneasy peace came over him, and he floated along with the current.

  Now that he no longer flailed, he rose to the surface. He could feel the air on the back of his head. All he had to do was turn his head and start breathing, but he couldn’t do it. It seemed too difficult, and he felt so weak, like his body weighed a thousand stones. Why should I? Who would care? He gave himself over to the water’s murky depths and drifted.

  Something nagged at the back of his mind—a promise he’d made. A promise over a grave, that he would become a Draegoran and find out the truth about his family. He needed to survive. He made a futile attempt to lift his head, but his muscles didn’t work right. He could no longer save himself. He gave up and drifted.

  Out of the water’s murky depths he saw Nola staring back at him. Have I died? Is she dead, too? Is she coming for me? If she was, she hadn’t expected to see him either because her face held a look of surprise that twisted the stitches on her forehead. Stitches? The last time he’d seen her, they’d both been thrown from the horse. He’d grabbed her hand and pulled her up to run. There’d been blood on her face that he’d wiped away. How is this happening? Why is she in the water, too?

  “You will survive this! You cannot drown.”

  The words resonated inside Riam’s head. It wasn’t Nola’s voice. They were the words of an older man with a thick accent. There was a sudden, blinding flash of light, and Nola was gone.

  The sword pulsed, off to his right, upriver. The link was thin, like a spiderweb floating on the wind, but it was there. With everything he had, he pulled from the sword. Nothing happened. He pulled again, this time more desperate, and was rewarded with a small surge of energy. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. It gave him the strength to get his head out of the water. He hacked and coughed, slowly emptying the water from his lungs. Even with the pain in his chest, the air tasted sweet.

  Treading water, he continued to hack and cough until he could breathe well enough to get his bearings. Nothing was in sight—no barge, no bank, only darkness and the dim glow of the moon behind the clouds—and strangest of all, it no longer rained. The current of the river pulled him along. Where is the barge? It couldn’t have drifted away so quickly.

  Paddling like a dog, he swam across the flow, hoping that he’d chosen the closest bank. For an instant, he saw a flicker of light and made his way toward it. He was a terrible swimmer, but he kept at it and didn’t give up, even when his arms burned.

  Finally, he felt reeds brush his hands and face. Thank the Fallen. The bank was close. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep swimming. He felt mushy soil. Too tired to stand, he moved on all fours until he reached land. Hand-over-hand, he pulled at the reeds until the upper half of his body lay on the solid ground. Mud and slime caked his face and body, but he didn’t care. He’d made it.

  “Who’s there?” a gruff voice asked.

  Riam didn’t reply. His head rang like a worked anvil, and all he could do was lie there panting, trying to catch his breath.

  “Be careful, Warril. It could have been a river dragon.” A woman’s voice, farther off.

  “It isn’t a river dragon, woman. The big lizards don’t like the deep channels, only the swamps. It was a person I heard splashing around down here. I know the sound of someone swimming when I hear it.”

  The crack of brush breaking came from nearby. Riam saw a light, and it grew brighter, flickering and casting shadows around a man searching along the riverbank.

  “Of course. You’re always right, like when you said it was too cold for snakes when we crossed the Horn.”

  “That was an honest mistake, woman. How was I supposed to know there was such a thing as an ice snake?” the man yelled back. “By the Fallen,” the man mumbled, “one snake in the tent and the woman won’t ever let me live it down. Wasn’t like it was poisonous enough to kill her. Only made her sick—quietest week of my life.”

  The man came closer.

  “Sollus’s mercy! There’s a child down here.”

  Riam heard the squish of footsteps as the man came to his side on the muddy riverbank.

  “A what?”

  Hands grabbed Riam and flipped him over. He blinked away tears from the bright light.

  “A boy!” the man yelled over his shoulder.

  “What’s a boy doing out here in the middle of the night? We’re at least twenty steads from Parthusal.”

  “Now, how would I know that?” The man felt Riam’s neck.

  “I’m alive,” Riam croaked.

  “Couldn’t tell it by lookin’ at you. You’re as pale as a wax candle. Nothin’ broke, is there?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Can you walk?”

  Riam struggled to rise.

  “Let me help.”

  A rough hand grabbed Riam by the arm and helped him to his feet. He tried to take a step and nearly pitched forward onto his face.

  “Easy there. I’ll carry you. You can’t weigh much more than a sack of grain by the size of you. I think I can manage.” The man leaned down and pulled Riam up over his shoulder.

  Judging by the way he tossed Riam around, the man was strong. His clothes were plain and cared for, or at least they had been. The mud and water would stain them.

  “I’m ruining your shirt. You should let me walk,” Riam croaked.

  “No worries, son. It’s not the first shirt I’ve dirtied, and I’m not so poor that it’s my only one. Here we go, then.” The man made his way up the bank, holding Riam over one shoulder and the lantern out before him with his other hand.

  Riam felt like the sack of grain the man mentioned—a sack of grain that’d been thrown off a cliff and dunked in a pond. An invisible giant squeezed his head. Everything seemed to be happening from far away. His vision blurred, and that didn’t make it any better. He hoped that he didn’t throw up on the man.

  It sud
denly hit him—Loral and the barge were gone. How long will it be before they realize I’m missing? Will they stop? Will they look for me, or will they continue on? Had Tannon thrown Loral in behind me? Could she swim?

  “Loral,” Riam said between the man’s jarring steps. “We need to look for Loral.” His words slurred.

  “There’s no one else out here. There’s only Polla and the wagons. She’ll take care of you.”

  “Put him down here,” a woman’s voice said. “What was he doing in the river?”

  The man plopped Riam down on a blanket. “Again, how would I know that? The boy’s delirious.”

  “Poor thing is shivering. He needs a fire.”

  “Can’t risk a fire—lantern’s more light than I like.”

  “Well, dig one of the furs out.”

  Riam didn’t feel cold, but then he didn’t feel much of anything. He was numb except for the pounding in his head, and his eyesight continued to dim and brighten with the pulse of his heartbeat. He could just make out three large covered wagons around them.

  “Get the wet clothes off him. I’ll get one of the furs out of the winter box.”

  Riam’s head hurt too much to be embarrassed when the woman pulled off his clothes. Once they were off, she rubbed his legs and arms between her hands.

  “Have to get your blood flowing.”

  As she rubbed, his skin began to tingle, and soon after he felt the cool air of the night, making him shiver.

  “Such pretty young skin,” the woman cooed. “I loved my boys when they were your age.” Her hands slid close enough to his groin to make Riam uncomfortable, even in his current state. He tried to push her hands away.

  “Here. I’ve got a heavy fur.”

  The woman’s hands withdrew, and a weight blanketed him. The woman tucked it around him.

  Riam closed his eyes. The fur was comforting and warm. There was the clink of glass and the smell of mint filled the air. A damp cloth pressed over Riam’s face. The fumes burned his lungs. He shook his head, trying to get it away from his mouth.