“I’ll have a small meal brought to you,” Hushar said. “Rest now and everything will be all right. There was no tearing, and the soreness will abate in time.” She smiled. “I’m going to clean and prepare your son now. Would you like to see him before I present him to the Zaxson?”
Sarai looked up at Symeon, feeling the tug of her emotions. She did want her son. She wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to love him, and be a mother to him. But she couldn’t. Daracus Vereux was the child’s father, and she couldn’t help but think about the brutal way that he’d used her. He’d taken pleasure in that abuse and her pained cries that accompanied it. How could she be this child’s mother without the agonizing memory of the father?
She’d ruminated on that question since learning of her pregnancy, and the answer was the same. Sarai wanted her son, and her heart ached to have him near her. When she felt Symeon squeeze her hand, she took a deep breath, trying desperately not to cry. This was her husband and her truest love. She couldn’t inflict such dishonor upon him, no matter his reassurances. He’d already suffered enough at the Vereuxs’ hands. She wouldn’t relinquish the control she’d retaken over her life. She couldn’t permit Daracus to continue torturing them from the grave.
“No,” she finally said, as tears poured from her eyes. “I—I have no son.”
Symeon drew her closer, as she wept in his arms.
“All wounds heal in time,” Hushar said. “Even one as great as this.” She tucked the blankets around Sarai. “Nzuri mixed a tincture of herbs and an ointment for you. Use it on your breasts with the rising and setting of the sun.”
“Thank you, Hushar, for all that you’ve done,” Symeon said, consoling his wife.
After gathering what was needed, Hushar approached the outer door of the adjoining chamber. Her smile was immediate, seeing Zeta holding the babe to her breast. After losing her son so tragically, it warmed her to see such closeness toward another’s child.
“He’s small, but feeds well,” Zeta said, stroking the thick white hair atop his head.
“Yes. He seems a healthy boy. Pentanimir will be pleased.”
“He’s so beautiful,” Zeta whispered, kissing his balled fists. “So beautiful and so perfect. Is Sarai certain that she doesn’t wish such a blessing?”
Hushar stopped her preparations, regarding her closely. Zeta appeared mesmerized by the infant, continuously kissing him as she rocked him in her arms.
“Sarai is certain, Zeta. He’s Pentanimir and Brahanu’s son now,” she reminded.
Zeta met her eyes, her expression forlorn. With only a nod, she focused on the babe again.
“I must get him cleaned so that I can take him to the Zaxson,” Hushar said, reaching out for him. Zeta turned away from her, nestling him closer.
“Zeta, you and Danimore will be blessed with another child. It won’t replace the son that you’ve lost, but it’ll be a wonderful blessing. Are you certain that you’ll be able to assist until Brahanu’s return? We can find a wet nurse or use goat’s milk instead. I don’t want to place upon you what your heart can’t endure.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she detached the babe from her breast, handing him to Hushar. “No. It’s comforting for me,” she said, never looking from him. “He’s the most beautiful babe I’ve ever seen. So beautiful.”
“You’ll be with him as much as you desire. It’s a blessing that you’re able to assist.”
Zeta stroked the babe’s wavy hair again. “He’s beautiful,” she murmured. “Is there anything else you need of me?”
“Yes, can you please bring some more heated water? I’d send for Micah, but Pentanimir doesn’t want anyone to know about the babe.”
“Right away.”
Heal her heart, Hushar prayed, quietly.
It didn’t take long for Zeta to return with the water. After she’d left, Hushar hummed, gently cleaning and tending the babe.
“The eyes of Nazil,” she said as the warm cloth caused the babe’s eyelids to flutter open.
His hair was silvery-white with thick waves, but his skin wasn’t pale, it had an almond hue.
She smiled, turning him over to wash his backside. When she ran the cloth over his skin, she gasped. Gently turning him on his back, Hushar studied his features again. She quickly finished washing him up, and then swaddled him tight, hiding the sleeping babe beneath a folded blanket, and then rushed from the chamber.
“Where’s the Zaxson?” she asked the guard in the corridor, being careful to shield the babe.
“He’s in a conference in his solar.”
“Do you know with whom?”
The guard looked at her with annoyance as she continued to question.
“If I were you, good sir, I’d answer. The Zaxson wouldn’t be pleased to learn that you refused the mother of his siblings.”
With that, the guard stood taller, clearing his throat. He, of course, knew who she was. Even so, she was human, and a former slave, and he didn’t think much of having to answer to her.
“The Zaxson is meeting with the Third Chosen,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Thank you.”
As she hurried down the corridor, her mind wouldn’t calm. She didn’t know what to say to Pentanimir or what either of them could do. He had to know the truth, and she was perhaps the only person who knew it.
“Mother?” Temian said, responding to the knock.
She forced the best smile that she could manage, stepping into the room. When the door closed behind her, she revealed the babe beneath the blanket.
“So soon?” Pentanimir asked.
“Not long ago, and there’s much to tell.”
Pentanimir approached, gently lifting him from her arms.
“He looks like a healthy boy,” he said, motioning to Temian. “But why have you brought him here, Hushar? Zeta should be tending him.”
“Please, both of you, please sit.”
They exchanged a glance, taking their seats.
“Zaxson, I know that whatever you’ve decided to do with the child isn’t truly my business, but are you sure that you must take on this burden?”
“Burden? He’s but a babe, Hushar, a blessing. The Guardians have told us of his importance, and Sarai doesn’t want to care for him. This is all that I can share with you.”
“Zaxson…Pentanimir, I’ve followed the Guardian’s teachings my entire life. The child is here as they asked, but that doesn’t mean that you must take charge of him. Isn’t there anyone you trust who can see to his needs?”
“Why, Hushar? Why does his care concern you so?”
She took a deep breath as a doleful look crossed her face. “The babe…he’s…Pentanimir, the child is a Vereux. Whether the son of Draizeyn or Daracus, I cannot say, but one of them is the father.”
“What causes you to think so?” Pentanimir asked, doing well to keep the shock from his face.
“It—it’s the mark.” She stood, unswaddling him, and then pointed to a small, olive-colored mark on his hip.
“Here, do you see this?”
Pentanimir studied the mark, noticing the odd shape and coloration. “It appears only a mark of birth.”
“No, Pentanimir, the look and placement are the same as those of the former Zaxson. All of them had it upon their hip just as the babe does. It’s a mark I’ve only seen on the Vereuxs, and it’s unmistakable to me. I tended them all and even had the unfortunate occasion to see the same on Draizeyn, and his brother, Nikolaj.”
They needed no further explanation. There could be only one way that she’d seen such a mark, and Temian’s head lowered with that truth. Draizeyn had used her as he did many others in the citadel.
“I’m sorry, Hushar,” Pentanimir said. “When the AsZar mentioned the child to me, I asked Sarai if she knew the father. Although Draizeyn kept her for himself, Daracus fathered the child.”
Hushar gasped. “When she returned after Draizeyn’s death. Before the battle, Daracus used her badly, and I tended Sarai
myself.”
“No one can learn about this,” Pentanimir said. “We didn’t want to keep anything from you, but we couldn’t risk anyone learning his true paternity. Everyone believes that the line of Vereux has ended. We’re pleased that this isn’t so, yet some might not appreciate a Vereux of mixed heritage. For now, it’s better if he’s known only as a Benoist. He’ll be safe here in the citadel.”
“Do you understand, Mother?” Temian asked, moving to her side. “Just as Tardison has a purpose to fulfill, so shall…” his voice trailed off as he looked at Pentanimir.
“Ayrmeis. The babe will be known as Ayrmeis Thaon Benoist.”
Temian nodded. “Ayrmeis has a greater purpose as well. The Guardians haven’t revealed what might come to pass, but that much is true. Just as they brought Father’s children together to help liberate Faélondul, Ayrmeis must be allowed to fulfill his purpose, too.”
“I understand.”
“Has there been word from Kaleo?” Pentanimir asked.
“Dalia is en route now,” Temian said. “She was reluctant to come to Nazil, yet she agreed to do so for her sister.”
“What do we know about her, did Yonas have any new information?”
“Not much. Dalia has remained much to herself after the dissolution of her marriage. I’m told she’s returned to their family home, but no one had seen her since the wedding.” Temian regarded him closely. “In her current state, do you truly feel it’s necessary for her to come?”
“I believe that Sarai will need her whether she realizes this or not. What she’s done is no small thing. Daracus may have sired Ayrmeis, but he’s still her son. I can’t fathom the pain of relinquishing your child to another. Perhaps they can help each other heal.”
“Who’s Dalia?” Hushar asked.
“She’s Sarai’s elder sister,” Temian said. “Dalia shouldn’t learn about Ayrmeis, either. That truth must remain with us.”
Meeting in Spero
“How long would you like to stay?” Hosdaq asked, standing to fill their cups.
“Gali and I will be leaving on the morrow,” Julaybeim said. “There’s much to do if the reports from Nazil are accurate.”
“Indeed. It’ll be the same for Reinhold and me,” Yonas said. “There are more sentries to train and the village walls aren’t fully restored.”
Hosdaq nodded, taking his seat at the head of the table. He scrutinized the message again, and then set the parchment aside. “How immediate is the threat from Yarah?”
“From what I was told, it’s a presage of something larger. The Caretaker took heed of Pentanimir’s advice and increased his guard, but that alone may not be enough,” Julaybeim said, taking a drink.
“There’s been no word of the uprising here in Spero, but I take no comfort in that,” Hosdaq said. “When more learn about Molag Bomgaard, I fear that a greater following will emerge. Some only await a cause to join against the new Zaxson and Caretakers.”
Reinhold nodded. “The sooner proper defenses are in place, the better. I’ve been working with our sentries in formulating a plan to protect Kaleo. Currently, there are no Nazilians present in the village, but that can change at any time.”
“Yes,” Yonas agreed. “We won’t keep them out. They’re welcome in the village, and many come for trade or following the caravans. Now that the violence has subsided, I welcome them back into the village.”
“This is good,” Julaybeim said. “If relations between the humans and Nazilians would normalize, mayhaps Molag won’t gain much momentum and this insanity he preaches will fall on deaf ears.”
“This would be the hope,” Amare said, drawing their attention. “Unfortunately, it could also be a way for those who share Molag’s beliefs to infiltrate the cities and villages. It would be prudent to keep a watchful eye. My friends, Weisheng and Déshì reported some unrest, and an attack not long ago. Once they return from their trek, I’d like to enlist their assistance.”
“Agreed,” Yonas said. “Their prowess and integrity are exceptional.”
“It is, but the brothers Xaahn have never endeavored to join an organized guard. They appreciate the freedom and schedule of their current status.”
“Indeed,” Yonas said.
Hosdaq glanced at the two curiously, and then regarded Julaybeim. “You said that Pentanimir is leaving Nazil. Is there anything of concern?”
“The scrolls, Hosdaq. Thalassa and Nzuri discovered some intriguing and puzzling passages. Even with her knowledge of the Mehlonii language, she couldn’t give it a proper meaning.”
“I hear tell there’s a young priest in Noraa who’s well versed in the ancient teachings. Is this where Pentanimir’s headed?” Yonas asked.
“From what I’m told, his name is Ahvixx. He’s merely a helding, and if his attention to young Sahma is any indication, he won’t be taking his vows any time soon.” Julaybeim chuckled.
“However, the answer is no. Ahvixx has a greater understanding than anyone else, save Thalassa and your High Priest, but this is even beyond him. Pentanimir left for the Animus Wood with Arinak to speak with the AsZar.”
“Is it that detrimental that they need to consult the Guardians, Julaybeim?” Hosdaq asked.
“Brahanu says that Nzuri and Thalassa are quite troubled by the implications. No one can know truly until the AsZar provides clarification. Pentanimir should return to Nazil this night, and then seven suns hence to retrieve Brahanu from Cazaal.”
Hosdaq shook his head, pouring another cup of wine. “Did Brahanu mention Zeta and Danimore?”
“She did,” Julaybeim said. “This same young helding seems to have visions.”
“The same as Olam?” Yonas asked.
“Even more so. He speaks while he’s yet awake, though he’s unaware. By his word, Danimore and Zeta visited the wood. She was taken through the falls much the same as Brahanu and Wosen were. They couldn’t return the child to her womb, but she’ll be able to conceive again. Much healing is still needed as they grieve for the loss of their son.”
“I’m pleased to hear it. Osmara was ill for many suns when the news reached Spero. It’s good to have Gali here to visit, and she looks beautiful, Julaybeim. Glowing even,” Hosdaq said.
“As is Osmara. She grows large. Soon you’ll be a father once more.”
“Within a fortnight, mayhaps. Already she’s late. And your own babe will soon follow.” He raised his cup.
Julaybeim did the same as Hosdaq regarded Yonas. “And what about you, old friend? Now that you’ve returned home, surely, there’s at least one young maid who was awaiting you in Kaleo. When shall we celebrate your bond?”
Yonas shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at his lover.
“I believe we’ll be celebrating Amare’s wedding before my own,” Yonas said, with a nervous chuckle. “Mayhaps in the future I’ll be so blessed.” He then raised his cup, looking at Reinhold, who merely smiled, offering a ‘hear, hear.’
Yonas breathed a sigh of relief when Malkia interrupted them. She entered the chamber wearing a white and silver tunic, a small sword belt, and carrying a shield. She bowed, or tried to, before the half-helm she wore tumbled off her head. Amare was quick to her side, adjusting her equipment and replacing the ill-fitting helm.
“It would seem that my most honorable Chosen, Lady Neufmarche, is ready to make our appointed rounds.”
Hosdaq laughed, and the others joined in his mirth. “It would appear that she’s found appropriate attire for completing such a task.”
Yonas rose, hugging her. “Had we known of your prowess back in Bandari, you could’ve stood guard with Nurul,” he teased, kissing her cheek. Malkia only giggled, reaching for Amare’s hand.
“If it pleases you, Caretaker, we’ll complete the rounds and make a report.”
Hosdaq nodded to his First Chosen, watching as they left the chamber.
“She’s grown much, Hosdaq. Seems only a season ago she stood waist high,” Yonas said. “Now she stands to my shoulder.”<
br />
“It was much the same with Wosen. Now, I’ll do it all over again as many times as we’re blessed.”
“You have a lovely daughter, Caretaker. She reminds me much of my own,” Reinhold said. “She, too, would carry a sword and shield if her mother only allowed.”
Hosdaq chuckled, yet Yonas nearly scowled.
Hosdaq stood then, pulling the long cord near the door. “I’ll have Liam show you to your chambers. Evening meal will be soon, and I’m certain that you’ll wish to freshen. The road was long, and we have more to discuss. ”
Second Chances
The young woman sat on the stone bench in the gardens surrounded by flowering bushes. She enjoyed the warmth of the sun, and the solitude that her position afforded her. Being in Nazil wasn’t what she’d expected. If not for her sister’s request, she wouldn’t have ever come to the white city. Regardless of her trepidation, her stay had been pleasant. After witnessing Sarai’s wedding in Kaleo, she was both heartened and sorrowful. Not at her sister’s joy in wedding Symeon, but with her own marriage, that had ended so painfully.
A child’s laughter brought Dalia from her thoughts. When she heard a man’s voice, she stood, glancing around the vast garden. A smile crossed her face, as Fáelán laughed again, being grabbed around his waist, and tickled until he fell onto the ground. She recognized the Nazilian man that was with him, laughing and playing in the garden. For a long while, she watched the two in amazement. Until coming to the citadel and seeing the humans and Nazilians together, she wouldn’t have believed it.
“I’ll find it, Dada!” Fáelán called out, dashing toward her. She hadn’t noticed the ball roll through the grass until the young boy came to retrieve it. Picking it up from the ground, she handed it to him, offering a warm smile.
“Here you are, little one.”
“Thank you, milady,” Fáelán said.
When the man entered behind him, Dalia took a step back.
“Pardons. We didn’t mean to disturb you. There’s usually no one here at this time,” Beilzen said, moving forward and extending his hand. “My name is Beilzen de Braose, and this is my son, Fáelán.”
The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy Page 101