…
A month passes like this. Two. Our brands heal and sometimes I forget it even marks me—but it's there. Taunting me at night before I close my eyes. Telling me who I belong to. The days are better when Hue and I can escape to that wintry rooftop. When I can sing while shoving away my thoughts of Akane. Of Nyx, Chima and Shanti. Giving my woes to the wind as I sing. As I hum and belt out notes to a world that's gone numb with cold. We're up there even when it rains. When the wind's howling at our windows and forcing the dead trees to bow—we're up there. Shrouded in silence that's pervaded by strong gusts of wind, or the sing-song dripping of a heavy rain. We're up there—alone with our thoughts. Letting them beat around our heads as we think. As we knead things out in silence.
And one day the silence is broken when Hue decides to talk. Something he often does in the kitchens, but up here—silence was golden. Our number one unspoken rule.
But he breaks it. “I wasn't supposed to be a scullion.” he tells me. Presses his hands to the stone behind us as he looks up into an angry gray sky. “Even with the mark, I was brought up to be more. I was supposed to serve right under the Dawnlord—not from miles away. Cleaning kitchens and scrubbing pots—no. I was brought up to be better than this—to serve in an army, not a castle! But I botched it—messed it up. Cursed myself, and now I'm here. Stuck.” and he coughs, lowers his head. Spits. Turns to me. “So, now you know.”
I am taken aback by his honesty. By his sudden show of grief. “You—cursed yourself?”
“When I killed my brother.” Hue sighs, lays his elbows upon his thighs and clasps his hands before himself. “When I killed my kin, I cursed myself. I muddied my family's honor and was ousted the minute the news came to them.”
“But I thought Lord Hinata—,”
Hue blows into his hands. “The scene went like this: the Dawnlord gathered the sons of all the most loyal families in the land. Lord Hinata by his side. Lord Vivek looking around like some blind vulture. He was pleased with the turnout—put us in honorable combat against each other to determine the strongest. The best and brightest.” Hue lowers his head and I watch. I bite my lip. “It came down to about ten or so. My brother and myself. A couple of men from the Grays and Redwall. Hinata stepped in—decided it wasn't fair that two boys from the same household had a stake in the combat, so he decided to 'help' us. Told us we'd fight under his banner—so we were ousted. Freed from the tournament—right then and there. We smiled and thought—yes, we don't have to fight each other! 'Cause we both knew who'd win and who'd be pushed back home to farm for the rest of his life. Me,” and Hue brings an accusatory thumb to his torso. Smiles. Laughs darkly. “we knew it would be me and so we were happy. But the happiness was sort-lived, because when we left the tourney, Lord Hinata's agent spotted us. A woman all clothed in dark—everyone knew her as his agent, his 'nightingale', and everyone knew that her words are just as good as orders coming from Lord Hinata's own mouth. She took us aside, and we knew things weren't going good when she took us to her tent—I remember fire and a circle. She told us to get in it.”
Hue pauses. It's like he's reliving it as fire all but dances in his mismatched eyes. I bring a hand to his shoulder as the silence continues. “Hue,” I call, “you don't have to tell me if it's too painful. I understand—,”
“No, you don't get it.” and his gaze falls to me. His eyes glow. “If I don't tell someone the truth—it'll just go down as a rumor. A memory only I've got—no. I need to tell someone.” he breathes in. Breathes out. “We get in it and she throws us swords from—somewhere—and the fire's all around us. It's all burning on candles, but the minute we entered that circle it was like it swallowed us. Like the fire had become a cage, or something. Juha's like—no, don't touch it. It's some kind of witchcraft. And the lady cackles like a damn hyena—of course it's witchcraft, now take it. Take it for your Dawnlord. And we think—well what can we do? The fire's all surrounding us and we think—well maybe this is some sort of blood ritual thing and we'll get out once we cut ourselves and swear to Lord Hinata. But no—of course not—no. The lady's like—only one may emerge. And we clasped our swords thinking—what? Thinking—why would Lord Hinata want this? Why would he save us from the tourney only to make us kill each other? Why?…”
Hue's voice cracks. Wobbles. He's got his fist clenched and he's hammering it into the stone beneath him—again and again. Over and over. “So we fight. I know I'm going to lose so I don't give a damn—I'm just swinging the sword, leaving myself open because my brother's the better warrior. I'm saying bye to ma and pa. I'm thinking about our little Goldie and how it's gonna make her cry that I'm not there anymore to play kites with her. She's gonna be so alone—I think, right when my sword nicks Juha's shoulder. And I'm lucky too, cause it hit him in an awful spot. A bloody spot—and I realize he's been doing the same thing too. Saying goodbye.
“It's awful when the fire goes away and I see Juha just laying there in blood. The nightingale's gone and I hear clapping from the other side of the room—there's Lord Hinata, smirking. Damn. Smirking. Smirking all silent like.” He rubs the heel of his hand into his eye, forcing the words now. Choking as he finishes his story. “My family branded me a kin-killer and I lost everything. Everything! All because of that damned nightingale.”
I sigh when he's done. When the wind whistles by my ear, pulling my hair with it as it passes. I turn to him. I want to mutter an apology but can't. “It was the will of the Fates that you survived. You, Hue. They wanted you to live—,”
He rounds on me, “And my brother to die?!”
“—and it is a sad, selfish, thing that the people who are dear to us must suffer when the Fates wish to keep us here. It is a sad and selfish thing.” my eyes burn as Hue's eyes glisten with unshed tears. “But sometimes we must accept the fact that our destinies aren't completely controlled by us. I—when I was conscripted my…mother murdered my—my…brother. Stomped his head in. Broke his neck. I was the only one of us to survive that night. And I was taken. Taken here—,”
“Left here to rot…”
But I shake my head. “We cannot become bitter. Though so many have passed…” I think I'm smiling despite this. Despite the wetness on my face—I think, I think I'm smiling. “…we must live for them. Be happy for them. Live as they wanted us to live. We can't stay stuck in the past.”
Akane would have called you a liar—look at yourself.
And I do. I look at myself, and decide that I will move on.
I decide that I will smile.
And Hue smiles with me, despite the tears. Despite the blood on his hands and the guilt in his heart. “You're a wise one, Kokoros.” he tells me. He laughs. “A good friend.”
Friend. I haven't had one of those in a while now.
Friend.
…
The next shift comes and goes. A day passes and we're woken up by the screen being slammed backwards. Sunlight pours into our little room from behind me as a soot faced cook lets himself in. In his hand he carries a tray with a loaf of steaming bread. A single peach sits atop the brown loaf and I stare at the ripe fruit as the cook lowers the tray to the floor.
I'm the first to sit up. To turn around and look outside the windows behind us.
Snow. It's everywhere. Covering the trees in icing. In glistening white.
I turn to the cook.
“The castellan's ordered a holiday.” he whispers from across the room. “Make sure you tell the others.”
And he leaves the tray there. Carefully, he shuts the screen behind him.
Then everything's quiet once more.
As the snow quietly falls behind me.
21. Impressions in the Snow
The snow is cleansing. It's pure color peaceful. Cheery. It reminds me somewhat of the march here, but I shake the memories away. I smile—determined—as the other scullions murmur groggily. Most turn over and fall back asleep while I sit up. Stand. Move over to the tray and grab myself a hot piece of bread. I swallow i
t—savoring the heat it creates in my mouth. I want to eat it all, but I can't be selfish. Not when there are so many mouths to feed.
I push past the wooden screen and into the kitchen in search of a knife for the peach.
“Are you going to cut it?” Corin's voice.
I walk back to the wooden screen. I peer into the room, looking for him, but he's gone from his mat.
“Down here.” And I look down. Corin's holding a pink slice up to me, somewhat smiling. Forcing himself to grin. “I've always got a knife.” he tells me as I take it.
I bite down—it's sweet. Sweeter than anything I've ever tasted and I let the juices dribble down my chin. “It's a holiday.” I tell Corin in between bites. “Make sure you—tell the others.” and I swallow it. Wanting another piece—but there are others who haven't had a chance to savor it and I frown. They deserve a piece too.
“You're going somewhere.”
Corin doesn't even ask and I nod. “I'm going outside.”
“Don't get lost.” he tells me before he crawls back to his mat. “It's a maze out there.”
And I know he's right, but I've got to. I've got to go down there and enjoy the ground—the snow. Because nobody knows when the castellan may give us another holiday—another chance like this. And I can't spend it sleeping—I just can't.
So I leave the room, gently close the door to the kitchen and venture up the corridor. I follow a maze of light walls and quiet hallways that are normally buzzing with foot traffic, but today are peaceful. Spacious. When the corridor splits two ways, I take the hallway to my left. Hoping that the closer I get to the castle's heart the sooner I'll find stairs or a ladder. When I step into a widened hallway with a large painting splayed upon its back wall, I spot a guardsman all padded in black walking the corridor. Behind him are stairs.
“Kokoros?” Badger's tired voice and I wince. I freeze. “Kokoros, is that you?” and I think to run—I didn't like this man.
“Yes, sir.” I squeak, coming to attention.
He approaches me. “You don't have to do that. I'm not here on business.”
An ugly scar rakes his left cheek as I glare up into bright yellow eyes. “May I pass, then?”
“Sure, but you're going to miss some important news if you don't hang around for a bit.”
I cock my head at that. “Important news?”
Leather clad arms cross at his torso. “The Lord of Tsubame's coming back. I was on my way to tell the boys, think you can do it instead?”
I lower my eyes to the floor. Clench my fists. “I'm busy.” I blurt.
The scar on his cheek twists when he smirks. His eyes flash. “You challenging me, scullion?”
I frown. Avert my eyes and try to pass him but he blocks my path. “You said I could pass.”
“I did, didn't I?” Badger sighs, uncrossing his arms. “Just thought your friend Hue would like to know and all. But I guess it don't matter to you, huh?” and he shoves past me when I tense up. I freeze in the hallway until the click of his boots disappear. Only then, do I sigh—letting it all go.
I'd tell him later—if Badger didn't beat me to it.
The Lord of Tsubame? Was that…?
I shake my head and race down the stairs Badger blocked.
Lord Hinata—The Dawnlord? Is he coming here?
And I skid to a stop when I reach the lower floor of the castle. Almost running into the bowed back of the castellan.
“Whose there? Whose running?”
Teal robes shift in white light that creeps its way down a wide hallway. The castellan turns, a curved board in his bent arm. “Ah…you.” his hawk-like eyes narrow. “Kokoros, yes? Can you write, boy? Do you know your letters?”
A lump forms in my throat, but I clench my fists. “Y-yes sir—I know my letters!”
His smile is quick. “Good.” he wheezes as he shoves the curved board towards me. Throws me a brush and I take it carefully, the ink cup at the board's edge wobbling wistfully. “My wrists aren't what they used to be. Just copy what I say in a list. Make the characters big, boy. My eyes aren't what they used to be either.”
I spend a good part of the day following him. Writing his words verbatim as he pokes his old head into the large and sprawling rooms of this floor. Rooms fit for kings.
“And let me see.” he twists around, snatching the board from me. “Yes, beautiful work, Kokoros. What did the seneschal assign you as, again?”
“I'm a scullion, sir.”
“A scullion?” and he tsks at that. Shaking his head from side to side. “No, no. That won't do. Not with your penmanship.” he brings the board to his chest, his eyes going wide before they snap back to me. “Anyway, enjoy your holiday, boy. These lazy days are few and far between, so enjoy them while you can.”
I nod before he disappears down the corridor and I'm forced to find my own way back to the stairs. When I find them, I venture further downwards—avoiding more officials, hoping to the Fates that I won't have to spend anymore of my free time writing down letters. Once I finally hit the ground floor, I marvel at flooring that's glossy and still like the unfettered surface of a lake and find my way outside. Two monstrous double doors have been forced open. They let the winter chill in and I shiver as I pass beneath them. As I pass beneath that huge emblem of a dragon that mirrors the symbol embossed on my arm. I walk into the light of a silver sky and breathe in the chilling air—the crystalline cold. Snow crunches beneath my boots and I think—I've finally made it. After maneuvering my way through that maze of a castle—I've finally made it.
The white takes me—accepts me. I breathe in the cold and think back to that march. To my sisters at Akane's home and my sisters back at the Orthella. I think—I wonder if that place even exists anymore. I wonder why Hana's here and why she hasn't contacted me—has she left? Has she run away because I know who she is? Is she afraid? Maybe my hate made her feel guilty. Maybe she can't stand to see me.
But I'm wrong.
I have to be.
Yet, it's been almost two months since I've seen her. A person can't just disappear like that. Castle Tsubame isn't that large.
Maybe you remind her of a past she'd rather forget.
It's a thought that chills me more than the winter winds and I think on it. I think on it and it hurts—I want to apologize to her. To tell her how sorry I am for what I did—for letting hate consume me like that.
But I accept I may not be able to. I accept it. I accept that it may be hard for her to move on and I sit down in the snow. I lie down in it. Stretch out my arms and look up.
I stare up at the sky.
Peace. I feel peace as silver stares down at me. As snow falls from the trees and I hear tiny winter bells—wind chimes, tinkling through the air. And I think—peace.
I think, I'm finally at peace.
…
Our holiday passes and Castle Tsubame gets back to work. Readies itself for the return of its lord with haste.
The kitchens are dirtier than they have ever been. Animal entrails are scattered about the room as if the cooks were using them as incense, attempting to cleanse the kitchens with their blood.
“Guess Lord Tsubame doesn't like liver.” Sunan jokes as he scoops up a large pink organ and smacks it into a bucket brimming with the stuff. But Hue takes his words seriously.
Near the cauldrons, I watch Hue's eyes narrow. “Yeah, he only drinks blood straight from the pig.”
His words hang. They freeze the room, and when the night's over we all attempt to get at the root of what could be wrong. We question him, but we're only met with a faraway stare and a muttered, “Good night.” before Hue turns over on his mat and ignores all of us. We shrug our shoulders, moving to our own mats to pass out for the night. But we aren't able to sleep for long.
The morning's barely come when the wooden screen separating us from the kitchens is shoved open. Two men wearing silver robes that grace silky white tunics enter our area with a goading air of superiority fluttering about them. It st
uffs the air with tension as they approach us.
One with long hair and sour eyes comes to Hue. Hides his hands in the long drop sleeves of his silver robe. “Where is Kokoros?” he asks.
Hue throws a look at me. Points a thumb over his shoulder. “That one.” he grunts.
Sour eyes comes to me. Bows. Stands and turns towards his wide eyed companion. “Rin, get his things.” and I roll off my mat as Rin bends to snap it out from under me.
I stand, hands on my hips. “What're you doing?”
The scullions watch—grumbling. Repeating my question. Hue stands with me. Crosses his arms and approaches the man with the sour eyes. “You're promoting him, aren't you? Taking another one from us?”
And sour eyes smirks. “It has nothing to do with you, Asher.” the name makes Hue pale. “Come with us Kokoros. You're moving.”
“By the order of who?” Hue spits.
Rin rolls his eyes as he comes to stand behind the taller man. Sour eyes gives Hue his back. “We apologize for waking you, scullions. Please, return to your duties.” He snaps his gaze over his shoulder. “Come, Kokoros.”
I give Hue a pleading look, but he places his hand onto my shoulder. “Don't forget about us.” he tells me, almost whispers. “Don't forget about us drudges.”
22. The Patronizer's Tears
I won't. I won't ever forget.
But I'm given no choice as to if I want to leave or not when I'm forced to follow the two men through the east wing of the palace and down onto the palace's second floor. We pass into a wide corridor that is awash with ocean waves, the thick walls are painted here while most of the castle walls on the other floors are left plain. I think to voice—where am I—when the question is abruptly answered.
“Welcome to the sleeping quarters of Tsubame's family.”
“Here, lies the true and rightful heirs of Castle Tsubame—,” Sour eyes throws Rin a look and he quiets. Replaces his tone. “Here lies the quarters of the castellan, along with various other officials.”
“Am I here to see the castellan?”
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