“I will be.” He sighed. “So many things have happened in little time, and Thalassa hasn’t been herself. I fear this pregnancy is tiring her more than she’ll admit. It was much different when she was pregnant with Suravi. I don’t want to smother her, but I’m concerned.”
“I understand. Dalia is much the same, but I do what I can for her when she’ll allow it. However, she’s carrying only one babe, and I can see her discomfort. I couldn’t imagine how Thalassa is feeling. She’s so slight, Jahno, and she’s grown quite large. How she manages to move about so easily, I cannot fathom.”
“It’s more difficult than she’ll show. In our chambers, she opts for a staff to help her move comfortably. I’m worried about my wife, and I’m not certain how to help her.”
“Can’t Hushar speak with her? Surely Thalassa would follow her mother’s advice.”
“We’ve tried and with little success. Thalassa’s been so distant lately, and I’m uncertain how I can help her. At least she’s begun working in our suite of late so her legs can be elevated. Dalia comes often to help with Suravi as well, and I appreciate her taking the time to do so. She’s been a blessing to the both of us.”
Beilzen smiled. “More so than I could ever hope to express. I’ve lived in Nazil my entire life, Jahno, but I didn’t know true joy until the Vereux’ defeat. When I think of the man that I tried to become in service to Oxilon, it seems a horrifying dream.” He shook his head. “I apologize again for everything that I did and said. It was madness. Never did I feel humans beneath me, nor did I hold any malice toward you or anyone. I loathed myself, every part of me that seemed deficient for a Nazilian. Did you know that my father requested six pledges for me?”
“Six?”
“Yes, six, and each one was rejected twice. He began seeking a wife for me when I was six and ten. That’s also when Fáelán was conceived. Shiloh was the wife that I wanted, and the only one who wanted me.”
“Not so anymore, Beilzen, Dalia loves you,” he said, smiling. “I understand that your previous actions weren’t due to any hatred you held toward me personally, or humans in general. You were suffering as well, and that didn’t pass my notice. However, at that time, I felt your treatment was a just punishment for the pain you inflicted upon others.”
“In your place, I would’ve felt the same. I know the abuse you suffered at Daracus’ hands. Although my own mistreatment didn’t last as long, the pain of those violations will never be forgotten. No one should’ve ever been treated so, Jahno, and I hope that you can forgive not only me, but also those who did nothing to end such abuses?”
“I did so long ago. After being amongst the Guardians, I couldn’t allow the past to sully or impede my future.”
Beilzen nodded, feeling much the same. “Well, soon Thalassa will have twins. Two more blessings to add to those you’ve already experienced and the multitude to follow.”
“Indeed. I just hope that Thalassa still wishes the same. I know she loves Suravi and she’ll love our twins, but she seems so unhappy.”
Beilzen rose, resting a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Your wife is happy, she’s merely tired. Wosen mentioned her fatigue when he came to retrieve Fáelán. You’re noticing her discomfort just as I do with Dalia. Allow Thalassa the time she needs and don’t attempt to do everything for her. Give her the opportunity to ask for your assistance. Remember, the Protectors raised Thalassa, and she’s very independent and strong.” He chuckled. “How could she not be with Arinak as a father?”
With that, Jahno was finally able to laugh. Beilzen was right: Thalassa didn’t need his constant care. She allowed it more for his sake than her own. When she needed him, Jahno would be there. Always, he would be there.
“Beilzen!” Velnic said, bursting into the room. “You must come!”
“Why? What’s happened? Is Fáelán all right?”
“It’s Dalia. Your wife, Beilzen, the babe comes!”
Beilzen paled. “So—so soon?”
“You must go, Beilzen, hurry,” Jahno said, nudging him toward the door. “Dalia will need you.”
He nodded, racing behind Velnic. “Where—where is she, Dalia, where’s Dalia?”
“They’re in your former chambers.”
“Hushar…has Hushar been told?”
“The Third Chosen went to inform Hushar. I was sent for you.”
He nodded again, trying to remain calm. Beilzen prayed silently, not only for his wife and child, but also for himself.
Temian knocked, pushing the door open.
“Mother, Dalia—” He gasped, wide-eyed, noticing that she wasn’t alone.
“Par—pardons,” Temian said, turning away. “Mother, Dalia’s in labor. You’re needed.”
“Where, Temian? Where is she?” Hushar asked, picking up her dress from the floor. “The babe comes early.”
“I’ll take you to her. Please, make haste.”
Hushar pulled on her slippers, rushing to the door. “Please take this,” she said, handing Temian a basket. “Forgive me, Allister. I’ll meet you for evening meal.”
As she closed the door, Temian extended out his arm, peering down at her.
“There are so many babes in the citadel now,” she said. “I’ve been awaiting this birth more than any other. If no one believed in the Guardians’ blessings before, this child should leave no doubts. It’s remarkable.”
He nodded, doing his best to mask his expression. It wasn’t the time to mention either Allister nor Perrin. However, Hushar’s recent promiscuities were distressing, and he’d need to address his concerns soon.
“Thank the Guardians,” Hibret said when they entered the room. “I can see the head, Hushar, but I don’t know what to do.”
“I need the oil from the basket. This babe seems anxious to meet its parents,” Hushar said, noticing that Beilzen was paler than usual as he clung to Dalia’s hand.
“You’re almost there. Relax and don’t push. Beilzen, keep her calm and you’ll soon meet your child,” she said, more for his sake than for Dalia’s.
Hushar dipped her hands in the pail of warm water. After drying them on a cloth, she rubbed the oils around Dalia’s opening, and positioned a cloth beneath the babe’s head. When Dalia screamed out again, she told her to push. With each succeeding contraction, it was the same, until the babe slid free from its mother.
“You have a son,” Hushar announced, cutting him free and wiping the film from his face. Both Dalia and Beilzen wept, watching Hushar wrap him in cloth, and hand him to his mother.
“We have another son,” Dalia said through heavy tears. “We have been blessed with a son.”
Nosce Te Ipsum
When Julaybeim closed the solar door, Gali turned, looking at her brother. “How are you, Yonas?”
“I’m fine. This trip was more tiring than the last. That’s all. Why do you ask?”
“How are you truly? You seem distant to me, not fatigued.”
“There are some very troubling events taking place, Gali. We have peace in Kaleo, as you do here, but that’s not so in Nazil and Yarah. I’ve heard recent reports of dissidents converging on Rhoyden. Hells, even Kumasi has been plagued by such talk.
“Everything we’ve worked for, what many died for could be shattered in an instant. Aren’t you concerned about the same?”
She moved closer, taking his hand. “Of course, I am, Yonas, but I’m not talking about the troubles in Faélondul. I’m talking about you alone. How are you ?”
His brow creased. “I—I’m fine.”
“Brother, we’ve always been honest with one another. Why would you turn from that now?”
“I don’t understand. I am telling you the truth. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Are you? Then, tell me: is it your wife you wanted at your side this visit, or your lover?”
Yonas’ eyes could’ve leapt from their sockets.
“Love—lover?” He was more surprised by the bluntness of the query than the implications
of it.
“Do you think that I didn’t know? I’ve known for years, Yonas. It’s obvious when you look at each other, by how much time you spend together, and then,” she said, looking into his eyes. “There’s also the time in the stable when I saw you making love.”
“What?”
“It was long ago, and you were both very young,” she said, caressing his hand. “I was there when you came in, but you’d locked the door and…and, well, before I could let you know I was there. I didn’t know what to do, Yonas. I was in shock seeing you with—with another man. I was too young to realize fully what was happening, but I knew that it was different than what’s expected. So, I ask you again, how are you?”
“Gali, I—I don’t know,” he said, choking back his emotion. “It’s all too much, everything that’s happened in my life, it’s too much. Now, this—this marriage. I don’t know.
“I thought I knew myself: who I was and am,” he said. “Always I knew. Now, nothing is certain.”
“Do you love Janiya?”
He leaned back, meeting her eyes. “Not like I love Reinhold.”
“Yonas, no two loves are the same. I’m only asking if you love your wife.”
He nodded, lowering his gaze. “I don’t understand it. How can I love her and Reinhold? It will always be him before anyone else, but I love Janiya, too. I wouldn’t have ever thought it possible, not with a woman.” His face aptly conveyed the confusion and pain he felt at that admission.
“Doesn’t Reinhold have a wife as well?”
“He does, yet he doesn’t love her like I love Janiya. When he and I are together, it’s wonderful, but it’s just as wonderful with my wife. I’m conflicted.”
“No. You’re in love. Janiya is beautiful in every meaning of the word, and she’s loved you for years. That honest love shows in everything she does for you, Yonas. However, Reinhold was your first love, your first true love. You were separated for years, and now you have each other again.
“You aren’t the first person to desire the comfort of a man as well as a woman. I can’t tell you what’s right for you or who to love. But be careful in whatever decision you might make. It was easier with Reinhold than with Janiya. Reinhold was your desire, whereas you regarded Janiya as an obligation.”
“I did in the beginning, but not anymore.”
“I know. You couldn’t have known that being with Janiya would satisfy you as completely as it was with Reinhold. I’m glad that you honestly care for her. Janiya’s heart is for you alone.”
Yonas smiled. “I do love my wife, Gali. That love seems to grow with each rise of the sun.”
Gali returned his smile, gently squeezing his hand. “That’s evident to anyone who sees you. So, are you going to tell me when the babe is due, or would you rather I guess?”
His mouth gaped. “How?”
“Have you forgotten that I’m a lakaar? Janiya’s skin and body has changed. Several times this visit her stomach could welcome no food, and she tires far too easily. So, how long until I’m again an aunt?”
“We were going to tell you at evening meal.” He shook his head. “It’s due at the end of the next season.”
“I’m so happy for you, Yonas,” she said, hugging him. “It’s such a blessing.”
“It is. You know, I was angry when mother insisted on this marriage. You know how she can be at times. But she was right, and I’m glad that I listened to what she had to say.”
“As am I.”
“Now, surely you didn’t call me here to discuss my love life.” He chuckled. “Do you have any news about the Zaxson and his family?”
“I do, from Noraa and Spero as well. Kuhani and Shintao visited not long ago.”
“What’s happened?”
“Much and more. They mentioned the Xaahn brothers you speak of, too. Do you understand why Jahno couldn’t tell you about the children’s progression when he visited?”
“Of course. I can’t blame Pentanimir for such caution. I continually pray for them, and will help in any way I can to ease their burdens.”
“The Jasiri have been keeping watch on Yarah’s borders. Pentanimir hopes that with their assistance, Molag will soon be apprehended.”
“Are they certain? Are Weisheng and Déshì assisting as well?”
“Of that, I’m not sure. The brothers don’t remain in Nazil and seem to speak only with either Symeon or Kuhani. However, I’m told that they’ve been a great help to the Zaxson.
“With the new leads and warriors, I doubt Molag will elude them much longer. They’re preparing for his capture.”
“This is great news, Sister. It seems there’s been nothing but turmoil for Pentanimir and his family since he became Zaxson. With Molag’s capture, I pray that such conflicts will end.”
“We hope for the same.”
“You mentioned Noraa?”
“Yes. Ahni is going to escort Ameya home. When they stop in Kaleo, Julaybeim and I hope that you could assign a few guards to escort them to Spero.”
“She’s returning to Cazaal?”
“Yes, and Julaybeim is concerned for her safety. He’d escort her himself, but he’s needed here.”
“I’ll make the arrangements as soon as I return.”
Gali stood, extending out a hand to him. “Now, we should join Janiya and Julaybeim in the garden. I’m certain that he’ll be happy to learn that he’s going to be an uncle.”
“He’s not the only one who’s happy. It’s not only due to my coming child, but with you, too. Thank you, Gali, for everything you do and have always done.”
Blood of My Blood
“No!” Symeon said. “This isn’t the way I’ve shown you, Ayrmeis. You must retain these lessons and commit the proper moves to memory. I won’t be there to defend you. Loss is death! Do you not understand?”
Ayrmeis sucked in a labored breath, wiping the stinging sweat from his eyes. He’d been training half the day, and could barely lift his sword. Every muscle ached, and his lungs felt as though they were singed, but he wouldn’t admit this to Symeon. Ayrmeis didn’t want his mentor to perceive him as weak.
“Lo—loss is death,” Ayrmeis said, bowing. Though he’d completed the trials to become a warrior, much training still lay ahead. Regardless of what he had to endure, Ayrmeis wouldn’t disappoint Symeon or himself.
“I won’t miss the strike again, Sir Yego. There’s no excuse for such sloppiness.”
Symeon’s expression softened. It was expected to err. He understood that no one could achieve perfection. They could only strive for it.
His harshness stemmed from what Ayrmeis might soon face, not his missed strike.
The dream he’d had about Ayrmeis’ battle continued to haunt him. So vividly, Symeon could see him combating the evil inhabiting Sanctium—a struggle Ayrmeis alone would endure. Symeon’s heart ached at the thought. Ayrmeis was a son to him just as much as Idris. Symeon would fight in his stead, had he the ability to do so. But Ayrmeis was the wielder of the scepter. Only Ayrmeis.
“You’re tired, Ayrmeis. Mayhaps a respite is needed.”
“No,” he said, quickly. “A warrior is able to endure. I am a warrior, Sir Yego,” he said, bringing his swords to the ready.
“Show me.”
With a flash of motion, Ayrmeis pressed the attack. Symeon barely avoided a swipe, immediately launching a fierce counter of his own. The two traded a flurry of parries and thrusts with neither gaining an advantage.
Symeon feigned openings that didn’t exist, knowing Ayrmeis would attempt to exploit them. He nearly smiled, feeling the fierceness of Ayrmeis’ attack. Symeon wouldn’t take the offensive, allowing Ayrmeis to execute his attack routines.
His blades relentlessly crisscrossed with preternatural precision, and soon, Symeon began to feel the press of his strikes. He spun away, drawing a second sword from its scabbard.
When Ayrmeis launched toward Symeon, their swords clashed with such ferocity that Ayrmeis’ arm tingled from the impact. H
e pushed away, flipping backward, and drawing his assegai with such rapidity that Symeon barely noticed the weapon change.
Symeon couldn’t help but smile then, seeing the tip of the lethal weapon accelerating toward him. He quick-stepped, batting the assegai aside only to have Ayrmeis’ blade coming in for a sideswipe.
Symeon dropped, rolling to the side, and then leapt back to his feet. But Ayrmeis was in full charge, never ceasing his advance. Symeon lowered his right hand, allowing his weapon to droop. After seeing the expression on Ayrmeis’ face, he knew that his ruse had the desired effect.
Symeon watched as the blade and assegai whirled toward him in perfect complement. When Ayrmeis attempted a double strike, Symeon reversed, turning his feigned vulnerability into advantage.
With a roar, Symeon spun around, coming up between both weapons with his own, knocking them out wide. Before Ayrmeis could fully recover from the thwarted attempt, Symeon forced his weapon down, slamming against Ayrmeis’ sword and assegai.
Ayrmeis winced, the blow jarring every muscle in his arms and shoulders. That moment of inaction cost him, as Symeon followed through with a side-kick to his ribs. When Ayrmeis stumbled sideward, he felt Symeon’s blade at his neck.
Ayrmeis lowered his head, allowing his weapons to drop.
“Again, I’ve lost.”
Symeon retracted his sword, clapping Ayrmeis on the back. “In an actual battle, the blade wouldn’t have stopped. It would’ve found its mark, truly. And this is why we train.”
Symeon lifted the skin from the table, handing it to him. As Ayrmeis drank down the water, Symeon admired the remarkable young man. It seemed an impossibility to watch him grow into manhood in but four seasons. It was a blessing to see the man he would become, and Symeon was prouder of him now than ever he could be. Ayrmeis had grown tall and strapping. Symeon recalled Daracus’ build then, shaking his head. Daracus was tall, but slight of frame. And here his son stood: a Jasiri warrior.
No , Symeon thought. My son .
“Will we continue, Sir Yego?” Ayrmeis asked, rubbing his aching muscles.
“Not this day. You need a hot bath and an herbed massage. Training isn’t beneficial if your body suffers from the effort. Pain is expected, but we won’t overdo. Your body must be respected to perform at its best.”
The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy Page 158