Heir of Hope (Follower of the Word Book 3)

by Morgan L. Busse

  Caleb sighed and maneuvered around so they could fit through the door. Hopefully she hadn’t suffered before she died.

  He walked along the road toward the large house at the end of the village. He had never really thought about children before. Never held one, never interacted with one either. Nobody he knew had them. Corin still did not have an heir. Most of the nobility, if they did have children, raised them at their country estates.

  What would it be like to have a daughter? Would she have dark hair, like his? Would he hold her? Love her? Die to protect her, like that man back in the house behind him?

  Strange feelings stirred inside of him. He looked down at the little girl he carried. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

  He walked into the large house and found Lore had already brought in another body, that of a young man, hardly out of boyhood. Caleb placed the girl next to the boy and stepped back. They didn’t look scary at all, lying there. But they would never wake, they would never move again. It made him strangely sad.

  I might be a Guardian, but I cannot protect people from death. He looked up at the ceiling. Only you can.

  There was a gasp and something clattered behind him. He turned and found Nierne standing in the doorway, her mouth open, a pile of logs and sticks scattered at her feet.

  Her mouth closed and she swallowed. “Children. I didn’t . . . I don’t know why I didn’t think . . . I thought there would only be adults. Oh, Word.” She gasped and ran from the house.

  Lore walked in a moment later, carrying a child, another girl. He placed the girl down by the first one. He shook his head and stood. “I should have thought about how Nierne would react. You and I have seen death many times. But she probably hasn’t.”

  Caleb stared at the door.

  “Go to her.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know . . .”

  “You know her better more than I do. And you are closer to her as well.”

  Caleb frowned. “But what do I say?”

  “Maybe nothing. But she needs someone right now.”

  Caleb slowly nodded and walked out the door. He looked left, then right. Nierne was already down the road, stumbling toward the entrance to the village. He paused. Sands, he didn’t know what to say. He had half a mind to just let her be and continue on with his morbid work when she sobbed loudly and sagged against the last house.

  Move it, Caleb. You think you love her? Then show it.

  He straightened up. He was no coward. He headed down the road to the end of the village. Nierne didn’t seem to notice him. The closer he got, the more it sounded like her heart was tearing apart.

  He paused a couple feet away, the tension returning. What could he do? He had no power that could bring those people back. How could he help her? He cleared his throat. “Nierne?”

  Nierne turned. “Caleb.” She stumbled toward him and fell against him. “I hate the darkness, I hate it!” She hit his chest with her fist. “It destroys everything. And the children . . . why did they have to die? Why? Why did the Word let this happen?”

  Caleb hesitated, then wrapped his arms around her. She pressed her face into his chest. Her tears soaked through his shirt. “I don’t know. But I do know the Word frees us from it.”

  She shook her head. “Not from death. We all die.”

  He slowly rubbed her back. “Yes. But we are not alone in death.”

  She looked up, tears clinging to her eyelashes. Something churned inside him. “How do you know? How do any of us know what’s on the other side?”

  “Because I’ve met the Word. I’ve seen Him. He is everywhere. There isn’t one place He cannot go. Even death.”

  “So why is there darkness?”

  Caleb gave her a sad smile. “Because we let it in.” How many times had he given in to his own darkness? How many lives had he taken? How much darkness had he spread with his own hand? He closed his eyes. Not anymore. I cannot take back what I did in the past. But I will never take a life again. Not if I don’t need to.

  Nierne sniffed.

  Caleb opened his eyes. He lifted his hands and held her face between his fingers and used his thumbs to wipe away her tears. “Be strong, Nierne.”

  “I don’t feel strong.”

  “But you are, much more than you know. You would have never crossed mountains, faced shadows, and experienced great loss without it. Use it now. Help us put these people to rest.”

  One last tear escaped down her cheek. “You’re right. I can do this.”

  He realized then that he had never seen Nierne cry before, not openly like this, not from the heart. He had seen her driven to tears by anger, fear, and frustration. This was different. It was like seeing a crack in her armor and the real Nierne inside.

  She took a deep, shaky breath. “I can get wood. But I don’t think I can carry anyone.”

  “Lore and I will do that.”

  “All right.”

  He wanted to bend down and kiss her. Just softly, on the lips. But this was not the time or the place. And he wasn’t sure how she would react. Sands, he didn’t even know why he was thinking that.

  Nierne stepped back. “Thank you. I should go.” She turned before he could say anything and crossed the road, disappearing between the houses toward the beach.

  A strange thought entered his mind . . .

  What would their daughter look like?

  Chapter

  29

  Rowen woke up. Everything was dark around her, save for the single torch that burned outside her cell. She lay on her side, tense, listening for the footsteps she had heard moments before. Was Valin finally coming for her? To punish her for letting those prisoners free?

  A minute past and nothing happened. No footsteps.

  She let out her breath. She must have imagined it.

  A scratching noise sounded to her left.

  She sat up, eyes wide, searching the darkness. A wooden plate lay near the bars with a chunk of stale bread, untouched.

  Something moved in the shadows.

  She drew her legs to her body.

  A rat emerged from the cell over. It stood on its haunches and sniffed the air, its whiskers wiggling.

  She blinked and her shoulders relaxed. So that’s what woke her up. Just a rat. Not Valin, not Malchus. She rubbed her face. Why did it have to wake her up? She had been dreaming about home again.

  And Lore.

  She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her body.

  The rat paused, then carefully made its way to her cell. It approached the bread, stood, and sniffed again.

  So what if the vermin took her food? She had no appetite.

  The rat had reached the plate when a thumping noise sounded outside her cell, past the main room. The rat turned and dashed away.

  She lifted her head.

  The muffled thud continued, a steady clop, clop.

  So she had heard something more than the rat.

  Rowen craned her neck and looked between her bars over at the main door that led into this place. There was a jingle of keys and the door opened. Valin walked in, his dark cloak rippling behind him.

  A longing rose inside her. The silence and darkness of this cell had eaten away at her, leaving her hollow and alone, aching for companionship. In her darkest moments, she wondered how the men had done it, locked away in here for months. At least they’d had each other. She had no one, except for the rat. Maybe that’s why she kept dreaming of Lore.

  Valin approached her cell and lifted the ring of keys. “I thought you might like some fresh air.” He thrust a key in, turned it, and the lock answered with a click.

  Yes, she did. She wanted fresh air and sun and wind so badly the ache was physical. And to be with people. Her dreams of Lore had intensified that.

  Valin opened the door. “Wel
l?”

  She struggled to her feet. She had never been given a chance to wash the mud off her legs or change her dress since that night she helped the men escape. And now new stains appeared alongside the caked mud, leaving her pale dress more brown than white.

  Valin spotted the rat and kicked it. It gave a high squeak as it sailed across the cell and hit the back wall with a thud.

  Rowen looked back and watched it limp off into the darkness. She might not like rats, but it didn’t deserve that.

  Valin grabbed the torch from its bracket and led the way, back through the main room and toward the door.

  She followed, her legs remembering how to move. They followed the dark corridor, up the stairs, down the next corridor and up the stairs again, reaching the top floor.

  Light appeared ahead. It wasn’t strong, but it was more than she had seen the last couple days. As they drew closer, a breeze came flowing through the hallway. She sighed inwardly at the soft, cool touch.

  Valin led her outside. The courtyard had dried out, leaving the once muddy surface cracked and uneven. Above, dark clouds spread across the sky.

  She shivered. Was this stormy weather common in Thyra this time of year? Or was something else at work?

  They walked across the courtyard and stepped onto the street, following it south toward the tower.

  Rowen watched the back of Valin’s head. Why had he come? Why was he taking her back? At least she was out of that cell.

  They reached the circular street that surrounded the tower and walked along the cobblestones toward the arena that stood in front of the tower. They passed by the first column and cut across the stage to the door. Valin held the door open. Rowen entered.

  Torches burned inside the brackets set along the wall, curving upward and around. She started up the steps. A heavy thud sounded behind her. She glanced back and found Valin following her, the door now shut.

  Up and around they went, following the stairs until minutes later they arrived at the top. Rowen entered the room first.

  Malchus sat in one of the high back chairs. He didn’t bother to stand or move. Two soldiers stood to the left of the room, rigid, with unblinking eyes.

  Valin passed the circle of chairs and stood in the middle. He looked at Rowen and beckoned with his hand. “Come here.”

  There it was, that same compulsion she’d felt weeks earlier—to obey him.

  Rowen took a step back.

  Valin sighed and dropped his hand. “We are not here to judge you. We simply want to talk to you.”

  Talk? She found that hard to believe. After all, she had freed all their prisoners and been thrown into the dungeon for it.

  Malchus turned and looked around the side of his chair. There was no emotion on his face, just a cold stare.

  Fine. She lifted her chin and made her way to the circle of chairs. She sat down in the farthest one from Malchus.

  Valin stood in the middle of the chairs as if he were addressing an entire court instead of just her and Malchus. He lifted his hand and pulled on the edge of his black glove. “I know why you freed those men.”

  “Why?” If talk was what he wanted, she would talk.

  Valin looked up, a smile now playing across his lips. “You thought you would escape with them. You wanted to be with them. Right?”

  “I am one of them. I am one of your prisoners.”

  “Did I lock you up? Did I treat you like those men?”

  No. Not until afterward.

  He approached her chair. “No, I did not. Because you are not one of them. Tell me, Rowen, what did you think would happen after you freed them? Did you think they would fall on their knees and thank you? Accept you into their circle? See you as one of them?”

  She clamped her mouth shut. No, they hadn’t.

  “I see. Something else happened. They feared you, didn’t they?”

  Yes. The short man had pushed her into the mud and struck her. She felt the sting again, and the deep hurt.

  “It won’t change, you know. It will never change.” His face hardened. “So why join them? They will never see you as one of their own, no matter how many times you save them, no matter how nice you are to them.” He leaned down toward her. “You are not one of them. Understand that. They will never accept you. But it should not matter to you. You are above them.”

  Rowen looked away. She wanted to sink down to the floor and tear out the hurt Valin had reawakened inside her. Instead, she stared out one of the windows. The sun had disappeared behind dark grey clouds outside, leaving the senate room dim.

  Her hands began to shake. She closed them into two tight fists.

  “That’s right.” Valin drew back and tilted her face toward his.

  She stared up into his icy eyes.

  “Do not give them your heart. They do not deserve it. Humans will always fear us, and because of their fear, hurt us. Only by eliminating them can we be free of their torment.”

  Valin was wrong. But anger burst inside her, pressing through her mind, driving those thoughts away. The hurt was too great to overcome this time. She continually gave everything she had and this was how she was repaid.

  She’d healed those people in Temanin. But did they rescue her from her enslavement? No. She healed that boy and bore his scars. How did his parents react? They ran from her. She freed those prisoners from Cragsmoor. And they struck her.

  She couldn’t keep doing this. There was nothing left in her. The people she sacrificed for took all she had and left her with nothing.

  Valin cupped her cheek. His hand was cool, his fingers curling around the contours of her face. She did not press her face into his hand, but neither did she turn away. The loneliness pierced her. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Rowen, you are so much more. You deserve better.”

  She choked back a sob, but couldn’t stop the tear that trickled down her cheek. He wiped it away.

  She turned away from his hand. What was happening to her? Valin was evil, vile. But he also spoke the truth and understood how she felt. He had been there himself. People had hurt him too.

  Rowen stood and stumbled toward the window. She placed her hands on the sill and looked out. Down below, the city of Thyra turned to shades of purple as the sun set in the west. The ocean was dark, with only white stripes where the waves came in. A single star twinkled just above the horizon.

  “It’s not true,” she whispered. Not all humans were like that. But at the moment she couldn’t remember anything good. She even tried to dredge up Lore’s face from her dream, but only a blank image filled her mind.

  Invisible black talons dug into her head, tainting her thoughts, leaving her mind in darkness.

  She pressed her head against the cool windowpane. Valin was twisting her. His words were finding their way deep into her mind. She couldn’t fight them anymore. For the first time—

  She wanted to give in.

  Valin reached her side, his arm brushing hers. “Join us. You’ll never be afraid again. Or hurt. No one will be able to touch you.”

  She gripped the windowsill. He was right. All this time she had cowered under the fear and hatred of others. Cleon, Prince Evander, Drake. It should have been them cowering.

  “That’s right. You are no servant of mankind. Use your power to protect yourself.”

  What if she had used her power on Cleon? Her village would have never banished her. They wouldn’t have been able to. Or Drake.

  Drake.

  Her mind seethed at his name. He had kept her trapped inside that hovel in Azar, forcing her to heal people while he enjoyed the luxury of their gold. What if she had given in and touched him? Shown him what a monster he was? Let him see the power she really possessed. He would have cried for mercy.

  Valin leaned in. She could see his face now, next to hers in the window’s reflection. He looked at her
window image. “You are the most powerful Eldaran I have ever met.” His breath was hot against her skin. “You have the power to become the greatest being in the Lands. You never have to be afraid again. Men will bow to you. They will obey your every command.” His hand slid down her arm and came to rest just above the metal band around her wrist. “Become what you were meant to be.”

  She stood on the edge of a cliff. All it would take was one step to embrace what Valin was saying. She stared into the abyss. She wanted to step off the cliff. If she gave in, she could have that power. She would never fear another person. She would never be hurt again—no more sacrificing herself.

  Valin brushed his lips along the side of her neck, sending a shiver down her back. “Join us.”

  So easy. Just give up. One step and she would finally have peace. Just give in to Valin and join—

  Remember.

  The word pierced her mind.

  Remember, Daughter of Light.

  She looked up at the dark sky. A single star twinkled against the blackness. Just one small light, but it drew her eye, capturing it. Valin still stood beside her, his hand resting on her elbow, but her mind was now miles from him.

  She was not one of them. She never would be.

  Lore’s face filled her mind and her heart reached for him. Then she saw Aren, and Lady Astrea, the healer Balint, and her old friend Calya from her home village. Images of people flooded her mind: the guards back home, the people she passed on the street, the children who played in the fields outside the White City.

  If she gave in, everyone she loved would be destroyed. The good with the bad.

  Rowen looked back up at the lone star . . .

  It wasn’t alone.

  More now twinkled against the night sky. Her heart swelled as truth seeped through her, filling her. She had never been alone either. Not really. From the beginning there were those who stood with her and for her. Her father and mother took her in and raised her as their own. Lord Gaynor offered her a position. Lady Astrea defended her, even when, by Ryland law, she should have been put to death. Nierne found her and traveled with her. Rory and Regessus believed in her.