The False Martyr

by H. Nathan Wilcox

  “Yes, sir. I . . . “ Rynn looked like he wanted to say more, like one of his stream-of-consciousness monologues was trembling on his lips, like he was fighting to hold it back.

  “What is it, Rynn?” Ipid glanced behind the boy to the man who had taken up a position just to his side.

  “It is alright, Rynn,” the man, Naidi, said, voice surprisingly kind.

  “I . . . I’ve learned so much, sir.” And the old Rynn was back. His entire body seemed to loosen as the constraints that had held it were stripped away. His eyes darted, face became exuberant, hand gestured wildly, mouth flew. “I can’t even believe the opportunity they’ve given me. I never realized that this was possible. I feel like I’ve finally found where I’m supposed to be, like I finally fit it. It was hard, especially at the beginning, but Naidi was always there. There are a lot of us now . . . “

  Ipid looked past the boy to his teacher as Rynn rambled. Could he see a smile through the veil? Was he somehow enjoying this?

  “That is enough, Rynn . . . . Remember your control.” Naidi placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. Rynn trailed off with a slight shudder and widening of his eyes. He took a deep breath and forced his body to find the control his teacher requested.

  “You’ve done well with him, Naidi,” Eia complemented. She walked around Rynn, placing a hand on his cheek and staring into his eyes. The boy was frozen. “My name is Eialia Oie Alliera of the house Eieniette. The Chancellor has asked me to masquerade as his wife, so I do not wear the robes, but I am Caliele Za’. Do you know what that means?” Rynn nodded stiffly, held by Eia’s dark eyes. Ipid expected to see her kiss him, but she simply stared into his eyes and held his cheek before returning her attention to his master.

  “Chancellor Ronigan,” she started in way of introduction, “this is Naidi li-an Thuhur, Caliele Hilaal.” She stepped back and cleared her throat. Ipid noted that Naidi was from Eia’s sect of the te-am ‘eiruh, the Caliele. She had said there were few of them, and though less overtly powerful than their counterparts, the Belan, they were especially adept at reading emotions and using more subtle applications of their powers. “In the time before the Darthur, Naidi was so renowned for his patience, wisdom, and control that he led those who went to meet the Darthur when they came to our holy city. We were certain that he would be able to reach an understanding with them, but his reason and patience were met with brutality. The Darthur did not even slow their charge. Thorold’s horse trampled him, followed by countless others. I think it was his seeming death more than anything else that convinced the Belab that we had to fight, that the Darthur could not be reasoned with, that they could never understand our commitment to peace, that it was the only way to save what we had built in the time since our exile.” Eia looked fondly again at the wraith before them – perhaps he really did die, Ipid considered. “When we found him still alive, it was as if the Twins had given us a gift that we did not deserve.”

  “Eialia is over-generous,” Naidi said. Ipid could hear now that his voice was strained despite its smooth resonance. He took a deep breath as if those few words were as many as he could manage. “It is true that I survived.” Another long breath. “But what remained was . . . hardly worth saving. . . . My injuries have left me . . . a near cripple . . . but I can teach . . . fine students . . . such as Rynn.”

  “I am pleased to meet you,” Ipid responded, “and truly sorry to learn of your injuries.” He stepped around Rynn clapping the boy on the shoulder with his left as he extended the right to Naidi. The tall man met it awkwardly with a gloved hand. That hand was clearly misshapen and did not bend to grip Ipid’s, feeling most like a lifeless bag of sticks and rocks. How are you going to clear the roads if you are crippled? he wanted to ask then realized that the answer was under his left hand. And only then did the idea of Rynn using the power of the te-am ‘eiruh become real . . . and terrifying.

  “Please, forgive me.” Naidi pulled Ipid’s attention back to him. He released the shattered hand and stepped back with a sideways glance at Rynn. “I have grown used to . . . my injuries and . . . learned to live with them . . . but they can be very . . . unsettling for others.”

  “I am sorry,” Ipid repeated and meant it. He could only imagine what was under Naidi’s robes, what being trampled by a column of horses would do to a body, what would be left if it could somehow heal. “But I must ask how you will be able to clear the city’s center without your . . . gift.” He thought better and added. “I assume that is why Belab has sent you?”

  Next to him, Eia gasped and squeezed his arm hard, her eyes were harder– after what happened last night, the simple touch was enough to make him retracted. Ipid knew his manners were lacking, but his people could not be wasted merely for the sake of his manners.

  “It is,” Naidi answered and made a calming gesture toward Eia. “I understand your . . . concern. Many have . . . given up on me . . . but I am not . . . entirely useless.” Ipid could swear that he saw the man smiling beneath the veil. “My abilities are . . . limited but not . . . lost . . . and I will have . . . Rynn to assist me. . . . He is . . . very powerful. . . . Together we . . . will do what . . . must be done.”

  “You do not understand what a great honor this is,” Eia added sharply. “The Belab has given us the one man who cannot be rattled by the emotions boiling in this city. He is our greatest teacher. If he says that Rynn can do what must be done, then it will be as he says.”

  Ipid wanted to say something about the irony of being given a wise cripple for a job that was primarily about stupid brute force, but it was clear that this was a battle that would result in only casualties. “I trust that you and Rynn will be able to do what must be done, but I also trust that you will inform me if you are having difficulty.”

  “Of course . . . Lord Chancellor.” Naidi bowed slightly. Ipid could not tell if he was being mocked. “I understand your reservations . . . and thank you for . . . your trust. . . . The Belab feels . . . that Rynn will make . . . your men more comfortable . . . and I will be able . . . to manage the emotions . . . involved better than a . . . Belan alone.” He stopped and staggered slightly as if losing his balance or breath.

  “I am sorry,” Ipid nearly caught the man’s elbow. “Would you like to sit?”

  “No, thank you, I . . . find it easier to stand.” Naidi steadied himself. “We came simply to . . . introduce ourselves . . . but clearly you know . . . Rynn.”

  “That is most kind,” Ipid returned. “I am sorry that I have doubted your abilities, but there are many lives resting on this.” He waved off both Eia and Naidi as they seemed to want to get into it further. “We need speak of it no more. I appreciate your coming and even more your willingness to bring Rynn back to us. He is my son’s best friend, and I feared that I would never see him again.”

  “How is Dasen?” Rynn leapt, again losing the control he was struggling to maintain. “He has been much the talk among the Odat Hilaal. They say he is a belab. I cannot imagine what that would be like. I have worked so hard to learn to use my gift. I can’t imagine what it would be like to just do it without the training I’ve received. I . . . I . . . Everyone is worried for him. They have asked me . . . .” Rynn cut off as Naidi placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Rynn is still learning control,” Naidi explained, obviously sensing Ipid’s concern. “Our individual personalities . . . come from Hilaal . . . . We would never . . . want to change him, but . . . control is key . . . to using our gift. . . . He must maintain . . . a balance between . . . his natural exuberance . . . and the control required . . . to use his gift . . . safely.”

  “I am sorry,” Rynn started again, displaying that control in exaggerated form, pacing each word, almost physically constraining himself. “Naidi is teaching me stillness, how to slow down and understand the choices before me. It is hard for me, so I must constantly remind myself. But I see now why I must think about how my words and actions impacts those around me.” He paused, took a calming breath, and clamped his h
ands together. “I am worried for Dasen. I hope that we can find him and show him the need to be trained. If there is anything I can do to help . . . to help with that, I would be extremely grateful.”

  “Thank you, Rynn.” Ipid looked past the boy to his master. He could almost imagine the man nodding along with each of Rynn’s words as if marking them from a script. “We are doing everything we can, but there has been no sign of Dasen. I am beginning to think that he escaped into Liandria.”

  “Hmmm,” Eia said from his side, but her eyes were on the window across the room.

  “Thank you, sir. I am just worried about him . . . and Tethina. I remember her. She was so beautiful and strong. I assume they’re still together?”

  “I don’t know, Rynn. I hope so. I hope that they still have each other.”

  “Me too, but I worry what might happen to her if Dasen loses control of his gift. When we are learning, we stay isolated so that we do not accidentally hurt someone. It is so easy to lose control, to do more than you intended, to . . . .” He trailed off with another touch from his master.

  “Thank you, Rynn. Trust me, not a day has gone by since Randor’s Pass that I have not thought of Dasen and Tethina . . . and you. I am doing everything I can to bring them safely back to us.” Ipid watched Rynn and Naidi, wondering how much of this was manufactured. Paranoia, he chastised himself. It is paranoia brought on by the fact that we’re discussing Dasen. But he could not help but shade every question with the words that Eia had used at his manor a lifetime gone.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I know you’re doing everything you can. It’s just . . . . Dasen is my best friend, and I know more than any other what he’s going through right now. I thought that maybe if he had a friend who has been trained, someone who could help him understand what it is and why it’s important, that he would come more willingly.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Rynn. If and when we find him, I will not hesitate to ask for your help. Until then, however, please trust that I am doing everything within my power and concentrate on the task before you. There are thousands of lives resting on your ability to clear the roads to those bridges, not least the men working with you.”

  “Yes, sir. Naidi has told me what we are to do. I just . . . .”

  “That seems a sign . . . that it is time . . . to leave you,” Naidi cut in. “I would like to . . . have time to see . . . what awaits us before tomorrow. . . . Rynn will need practice. . . . We need to plan . . . and prepare. . . . May we see the . . . worksite now?”

  Ipid looked to Eia then to Naidi. “The worksite should be empty. I’ve given the workers the day. They will start again at first light tomorrow.”

  “Have provisions . . . been made to ensure . . . that they will not . . . attack us?”

  “They have,” Ipid said with a sigh. It had taken nearly an hour of planning with Commander Tyne to put all the elements together. It required redeploying his soldiers as well as adding workers from the camps that were now serving the invaders. The latter had been Jon’s suggestion – to show the workers that there were others who were more than willing to take their places if they did not want to be part of the effort. Commander Tyne was supposed to be at the camps now recruiting those men.

  “Then we shall leave you.” Naidi’s hood bobbed then turned to Eia and seemed to linger there. His twisted hand guided Rynn away by the shoulder.

  “Just a moment,” Ipid caught them. “Rynn, have you written to your family? I am sure they are worried. The Liandrins have closed the border, but I’m sure we could get a letter through. I can see to it if you’d like.”

  Rynn twitched. His face contorted ever so slightly as if he were fighting his own expressions. “That is very kind,” he managed. “I will write something this evening.”

  “Bring it to me yourself,” Ipid suggested. “I’d like to speak with you more. I’d . . . a lot has happened, and it is good to see a familiar face. I’d like it if we could spend some more time together.”

  Rynn took a deep breath. “I’d like that, sir, but I don’t know if I will have time with my studies and duties here in the city. It is a great honor that Naidi has chosen me to accompany him, and I want to make sure I repay his trust.”

  Ipid nodded but eyed the boy. “Alright,” he conceded. “If you have the time, but do not let it distract from your work or studies.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Rynn looked relieved. “Good day.”

  As he turned to go, Ipid caught his arm, hoping to formalize the departure with another embrace or at least shaking of hands. Rynn’s face shot around filled with anger and fear. Ipid retracted, releasing the arm. “I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I just wanted to say that it was good to see you again. I am glad you are well.”

  Rynn relaxed, shame washing over him.

  Eia jumped in. “He is still learning to read the emotions around him. I am sorry, Naidi. He is your student, but I understand the situation and can explain it so that the Chancellor understands.” The black hood nodded, and Eia continued, “You are very calm, so Rynn cannot read you, but there is a great deal of emotion radiating from the city around us. Rynn is in touch with that emotion, and one of the things that he is learning is to separate the emotion around him from that in the background. When you surprised him, he momentarily lost track of that separation and assigned the emotions outside to you. The fact that he recovered so quickly shows how much he has progressed in his training.”

  “I see,” Ipid mumbled, though he was concerned more than reassured. If the boy is having so much trouble dealing with this, how will he manage the workers tomorrow that want more than anything to kill him? “I am sorry if I startled you, Rynn. Are you certain that you will be able to handle the work around the bridges?”

  Naidi answered before Rynn had a chance. “I will be with him. . . . It will be a challenge . . . but I am certain that . . . he will learn and grow . . . through this experience.”

  It was not the answer that Ipid wanted to hear, but he could only sigh as Naidi led Rynn slowly from the room, using the boy now to support his shambling walk.

  Watching them go, Ipid wondered how all this would play out, wondered what game Belab was playing. Certainly there were a hundred of his followers that he could have sent, so why Rynn? Why now? Why here?

  “What is the matter with you?” interrupted him. It was the question he had been dreading the entire day. He had put it off thus far with the weekly lessons, meetings, and reports, but Eia had him cornered now. And just like a cornered animal, he looked for any possible place to run or hide, for any possible excuse: people he must meet, places he must go, things he must do.

  “You will talk to me,” Eia demanded, ending any hope that he had of escape. “You’ve been avoiding me all day. You’ve barely said a word to me or acknowledged I was here. Then a man who is very nearly a saint in our order comes here to help you and you openly doubt his abilities in front of me. Are you trying to push me away?”

  Barely hearing her words, Ipid kept his eyes away, not wanting to see her and be reminded of what had happened the night before. Despite her words then and after, he remained convinced that he had hurt her, that he was the lowest kind of monster, that she must hate and fear him. Or in many ways worse, that she had been honest, that she really did want that monster, that she would bring that darkness out again, that it would feel so good that he would not be able to put it back.

  “I asked what’s wrong with you,” Eia repeated. She placed a hand on his cheek and turned his face until he was looking into her dark eyes.

  Ipid retracted. He stumbled back from her as the images of her writhing on the desk, of his hand on her throat, of her gurgled cries leapt to his mind.

  Eia laughed. “Is this about last night? About what we did?” She laughed again then took his chin in her hand and brought his eyes back to her. “My dear, I want you to look at me when I tell you this. I said, what we did last night. I was there. I did nothing to resist you. I even told you that it was what I h
ad wanted, that I had enjoyed it. Why are you acting like this now?”

  Ipid tried to pull his eyes away, but Eia would not let him go. Seeking a refuge, they went to the silk scarf she had tied around her neck. Though hidden from casual observation, he could see the purple marks the same size and shape as his fingers that it hid. “It was wrong,” he said finally. “I don’t care . . . I don’t care what you said. I . . . I had no right to treat you that way. No woman should ever be treated that way. I was angry. I was drunk, but that is no excuse. I do not know where that came from, but it . . . it was wrong, and you should never have to put up with that.” By the Order, Kira would have killed me if I’d done that to her, no matter how drunk or angry I was. She would have gutted me like a pig, and I’d have deserved it.

  “Oh, dear, sweat boy,” Eia laughed. “It is very gallant of you. I am sure the women here would swoon, but I am not one of your women. I do not need you to protect me, and you have seen too much to think otherwise. Do you not think I could have stopped you if I wanted to?” She laughed again and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. “Trust me, my love, last night was perfect. Far from being wrong, it was exactly what I wanted. I wanted your anger, your passion, your aggression. It is what has always been missing. I was thrilled to have it. It made me feel alive like I haven’t in years upon years. And far from not wanting to put up with it, I long to feel it again.”

  “So I didn’t hurt you?”

  Eia laughed. She came away from him slightly, looked up at him, and adjusted her stance meaningfully. “Oh, it certainly hurt, but sometimes the greatest pleasure is found in pain.”

  “So when you were screaming, when you were crying . . . ?” The lump in his throat kept Ipid from saying more.

  “It was both.” Eia put her hands on his arms and stared into his eyes. “Pain at first but then pleasure, waves upon waves of it. And don’t pretend that you didn’t feel it was well. I heard you. I saw you. I felt you. I know that you experienced something unlike anything you have ever known”