Yes, and those beasts that you eradicated were replaced with undead monstrosities.
“Dogs,” Aasimah said, hiding her true thoughts.
“Indeed. I wouldn't be surprised if they had been used to 'clean up' the mess,” the prince agreed.
Itholera turned a sickly shade of white. Only then did they notice her trembling. She looked as if she was on the verge of collapse. Glanen stepped forward and kindly offered her his arm. She grasped it tightly and leaned against him for support.
“Forgive us, lady,” he said with surprising gentleness.
“Yes, please,” the prince said, “forgive me for being so inconsiderate. We can discuss this another time. Glanen, see them back to their quarters. But wait just a moment!”
He had a strange glimmer in his eyes when he looked at Aasimah.
“There is something I would like to show you. Later. Tonight, after supper. Will you join me?” he asked in a low whisper.
Aasimah glanced at him in askance. It wasn't difficult to figure out why the prince was singling her out, and the concept of punishment was hardly foreign to her. She nodded, slowly, and turned to follow Glanen and Itholera back to the palace.
The prince remained in the garden, staring once more into the pond.
What a strange turn of events the last few days proved to be!
Chapter 8
From the Shadows
∞∞∞
The rest of the night was uneventful. The prince had a small welcoming feast prepared for the palace's newest additions. Though she found it strange, Aasimah wasn't about to turn down quality food, especially food she didn't have to fight nearly to the death for.
The meal was simple and featured cuts of two different meats: roasted boar and venison, a platter of sliced apples and some type of bitter and juicy fruit she'd never tried before, and a side of freshly baked bread, which was the only thing Aasimah did not sample. A smaller plate topped with sweets was served, as well – little jelly filled pastries. That, Aasimah helped herself to without shame.
Bellies stuffed from the meal, the small group happily parted ways. Glanen bade everyone a good night and escorted Itholera back to her quarters. Aasimah was about follow after them so that she might return to her own, when she felt the prince's hand close around her wrist.
“Meet me in the garden in an hour,” he said under his breath.
Aasimah gave a small nod to show that she had heard him. The prince released her, seeming a bit embarrassed.
Less than an hour later, Aasimah heard the tell-tale knock of the prince's fist upon her door. She threw it open, surprised that he had come to her directly.
“There has been a small change of plans,” the prince explained before she could get a single word in.
“I thought the plan was to meet in the garden,” Aasimah said as she exited her room and closed the door behind her, finding the prince's antics to be oddly entertaining.
“Yes, it was, but I thought about what would happen if you were seen wandering the palace at this hour, alone. I thought it best to do this together.”
“Why would it be odd for me to be walking about the palace alone? Wouldn't the guards assume that I'm, you know, doing my job as a slave and all?”
“You aren't a slave anymore.”
“But in their eyes?”
Adsuni grimaced. “Yes, I suppose you have a point. It's just that you don't really know your way around here yet, and to tell the truth, I'm not even supposed to be out and about at this hour. Better for me to show you the way out.”
As he spoke, the prince peered over the edge of the nearby pillar. Glanen was no longer in his line of sight. The prince seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. His eyes twinkled with mischief in the flickering light of the braziers.
“You're having fun with this, aren't you?” Aasimah teased, though she still felt a bit uneasy. The man's friendly nature seemed so contradictory to the slaver's; it did not seem as though he intended to punish her for speaking out against him so bluntly before. What, then, was his motive for dragging her out of her room so late at night?
The prince looked back at her with a wide grin that reflected strongly in his eyes. He looked much more confident now than he did earlier!
“Oh, yes, very much so! I haven't sneaked about after dark since I was a boy.”
“So, this is an old habit of yours?”
“You could say that.”
This was a rather unexpected side to the prince, and Aasimah found it strangely endearing. She might end up enjoying her stay at the palace after all, at least until her inevitable escape. If her people still lived, she needed to get back to them.
A lump formed in her throat when she remembered old man Falysto, the closest thing she ever had to a parent. How many times did Falysto warn her not to stray too far from the group? And how she paid for her insolence – oh, how they both paid!
She wondered how the rest of their group fared now that they were more or less leaderless.
Adsuni, so caught up in this game of cat-and-mouse with his closest friend, did not notice the woman's turmoil. So much the better; Aasimah wasn't sure she could bear to speak of it again. Let the prince be absorbed in his game, at least it would prove a more pleasant distraction for her, too.
“Glanen's making his rounds about the upper floor by now, we should leave while we can.”
The prince darted forward, catching Aasimah off guard. She hastened after him, and he led her through the ground floor, into the library. From the library was a door that led out into another entrance to the garden. They found themselves facing the open courtyard, from the west end this time.
Aasimah took a moment to study their surroundings. She noticed that there was a ladder that led up along the wall of the tower, eventually connecting with a spiral staircase, designed to take them to the very top, up to the roof. It was an odd bit of architecture, and Aasimah was about to ask what the point of it was when the prince pointed directly to that very spot and said, “that's where we're going.”
Aasimah looked at him as if he'd gone completely mad.
“Are you serious?” she dared to ask. “It's dark out, what if we slip on the rungs? Or fall off the stairs? Even if we do make it to the roof, what if we end up falling from that, instead? And if we survive the fall, how happy do you think your father is going to be when he finds us?”
Again, the prince grinned.
“It's not that bad, I've been up here more times than I can count! Besides, it'll be worth it – you have my word. I wouldn't save you just to turn around and put you right back into danger.”
His word wasn't worth much to her at this point. But before Aasimah could give it anymore thought, the prince was already making his way over to the ladder. She sighed and followed suit. At least, if she did manage to fall off the ladder and break her neck, it would have been a far more merciful death than the one that she would have met before, had Itholera not come to her rescue.
The ladder was old and the rungs wobbled and creaked underneath their feet. Aasimah gripped the base tensely as they made their ascent, yet the prince seemed oddly confident. They learned, upon reaching the end, that the top rung from the ladder was missing. The prince heaved himself up onto the roof, and held out a hand to Aasimah.
“Here,” he said with a relaxed smile, “take it. I won't let you fall.”
She merely stared at it. Once again, she was being asked to place her faith in him. Why?
Slowly, she stretched her hand out, and she almost flinched when his own hand closed around it.
His hand, unlike hers, was soft and delicate. He had never worked a field, tended livestock, or fought for his life. No, instead, it was he who flinched when he encountered the roughness of Aasimah's open palm, the scratchy calluses and the jagged scar that ran from her thumb to her ring finger. Still, despite all appearances of fragility, he managed to help her up.
“What different worlds we come from,” the prince murmured.
&nbs
p; “What are you talking about?” Aasimah asked.
The prince quieted and continued on along the staircase. Aasimah, too, was silent. At last, they reached the top of the tower, and the prince wasted no time in walking toward the edge of the roof. Aasimah followed him, and it was then that she saw exactly what it was that the prince found so special about the place.
***
“Still patrolling?” a familiar voice called from behind him.
Glanen half-turned. Ah, Hymuse was here!
This late?
“What brings you here at this hour, my lord?” The knight asked with a courteous bow.
“I've come to pay a visit to the King,” Hymuse explained. “I wanted to stop by earlier, so that I might see how the new girl is faring.”
He smile fell slightly as he said that.
“Something tells me that buying a slave wasn't part of the plan that day,” Glanen remarked. It was a tad inappropriate to question Hymuse so, but the knight couldn't help wondering about that day. He knew, too, that his friend could be incredibly short-sighted when he felt a tug upon his heartstrings.
Hymuse understood.
“Yes, I daresay that impulse got the better over our dear prince. Well, I suppose he did a good thing, anyway; at least one person has been saved from that terrible lifestyle.”
“Milord told me that he over-payed greatly for her,” Glanen added, thinking privately that 'lifestyle' was an odd way to describe it.
Hymuse guessed his thoughts. “Yes, short-sightedness of that degree could do more harm than good down the line. He gave that man a financial incentive to continue his trade. I didn't have the heart to tell him that, though. He thought he was doing a good deed, and even if it doesn't do much in the grand scheme of things, his heart was in the right place.”
Glanen leaned against a nearby pillar, taking it all in. His father, the greatest knight of them all, raised him to believe that good intentions were enough. He found himself wondering if that was true. He thought back to his early days at the Academy, at all the mistakes he made in his earlier years there.
“You look so serious,” Hymuse teased softly. “I must say, you don't wear that look very well.”
“Forgive me,” Glanen said quickly. “I was merely lost in my thoughts. It has been a strange and, if I may be so honest, difficult few months. While I know our prince is very invested into this slave trade business, I fear that there is something bigger and uglier at play here.”
Hymuse ran a hand through his hair, intertwining his fingers within his shimmering locks.
“Something involving Takirar, perhaps?”
“No, not exactly. We really ought to be turning our attention back to our own borders. There is growing unrest–”
Glanen saw it only for a second as the man's hair fell away from one of his ears, and so quickly did that moment pass that the knight wondered if he even saw it at all: Hymuse's ear had a slight point to it.
“Yes,” Hymuse continued smoothly, “I have heard rumors of greater activity in the northern regions of the country. I hear, too, that a three-headed reptilian creature was spotted in the mountains. I take it that your patrol group has been looking into the matter?”
The knight blinked and nodded wordlessly, too embarrassed to bring up his observation directly to Hymuse. He supposed it oughtn't matter too much, for Hymuse proved himself many times over to the King and his people, and if there was any recent elven blood in his lineage, Glanen was hardly the person to judge, for he himself was not of Dinavhek.
“I shall see that you and your patrol group are properly armed,” the prime minister said at length. “If even half of these rumors are true, then I cannot justify sending Dinavhek's best young fighters out there with mere twigs and rocks, can I?”
Glanen bit his lip. It was true that the Academy was in need of greater funding. In particular, his division was worse for wear. His father spent his own money making certain that Glanen was adequately equipped to handle any threat that might present itself, but the rest of his comrades were wearing old and battered armor, and they might as well be fighting with butter knives, their weapons became so dulled.
“We would greatly appreciate that, milord,” Glanen answered, bowing again.
“Excellent! I will see to the matter before I leave.”
“Leave?”
“Oh, you didn't know? Well, I guess it is a bit of a secret. I'm going away on a diplomatic mission. I will be gone for a few weeks, maybe upwards of a month. More than that, I cannot reveal. Do take care, young knight. Oh, and take care of our young prince, too,” he added with a wink. “Try to keep him out of trouble as best you can.”
He left the young knight alone in the corridor, contemplating everything he'd learned from that strange encounter.
As Hymuse walked away, Glanen could not help but stare lingeringly, making note of the man's swift and elegant gait. There was a spring in his step, he noted, and that observation made him all the more uneasy.
***
The view was incredible, even in the dark. She could see thousands of flickering torch and fire lights littering the city below them. The lights began to spread apart as the city faded gradually into the mountains, which were barely visible under the silvery glow of the moon. From their vantage point, they could see everything, and Aasimah could only imagine how remarkable the view must be during the daytime.
“Breathtaking, isn't it?” the prince asked, breaking the silence, “and it only gets better at sunrise.”
Aasimah believed his statement. Many times, she had witnessed the rise of the sun. Her people, nomadic as they were by nature, were always on the move by first light. Seeing the sun rise from the rooftop of the palace, though? That would be an entirely different experience. One she actually found herself looking forward to.
“All this land, and I have yet to see almost all of it. I know I'm about to sound spoiled, and I suppose I am, but palace life can be... restrictive. Stifling, even. I wish to see more of this world, but really, I would settle for just seeing more of my own country!”
Aasimah snorted; if the prince caught a single glimpse of her world, he would surely regret such a sight! Would he be able to keep up with her group, were they to take him in as they had her? She doubted it, though she found the mental image of the prince stumbling along behind them, dodging the desert monsters left and right to be oddly amusing.
“And yet you have a warm bath and a cozy bed to enjoy every night,” she said. “How many of the people down there can say the same? How many of them, do you think, take time out of their mornings to look up at the sunrise and bask in its beauty? How many of them have that luxury?”
The prince drew in a sharp breath. Her harsh words caught him off guard. She pressed on, determined to maintain the advantage she'd gained in their present conversation.
“If the sun were up now and we could see them, they would appear as ants to us. In the end, isn't that all they really are, to nobles like you?”
Ants, fighting for crumbs of bread to sustain themselves, as she had always done. These same ants, however, would happily trample over each other to reach even the smallest crumb, too self-absorbed, too oblivious, to understand the danger the king's boot presented to them.
If her relentless pessimism was bothering the prince in any way, it was impossible to tell. He'd been surprised by her earlier statement, but now he stood in silence, not even looking at her!
The prince looked a bit more thoughtful, but the wonderment and longing remained in his eyes as he took in the sight of the vast, sprawling city of Aranaot.
“You're right,” he admitted. “I'm sheltered and spoiled. But I didn't ask to be, and I don't want it.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Aasimah cautioned, now more curious than angry. “History is full of kings who craved what they shouldn't have, and many of them ended up paying for it with their lives. There's always more of something. More gold, more food, more land, more freedom. If you'
re looking for freedom in poverty, you won't find it. The poor don't frolic in flowery fields and play with deer and rabbits everyday. They work, they starve, and they work themselves to death to avoid starving.”
“What if it didn't have to be that way?” the prince countered. “I know it always will be, for some, but what if I could change things? Our economy continues to grow, we have less people starving now than we did a decade ago... can we not continue this trend? I want to change Dinavhek for the better. I don't just want to continue my mother's work, I want to expand upon it.”
Aasimah nearly burst out into laughter at that thought and was thankful that she possessed more self control than old Falysto would have given her credit for.
Sobered by the sudden reminder of her dead friend, she shook her head.
“And you think showing me what I've already seen almost every day of my life is going to accomplish that? You're longing for a life I've already lived, and I'm telling you, it's not what you think it is. Your idea of transforming Dinavhek and leading it into some sort of golden age is unrealistic at best.”
Again, Adsuni quieted, and this time, she could tell that he was troubled by her words.
The prince bent low, and grabbed a pebble that was wedged between two shingles. He tossed it about casually in his hands, not bothering to explain himself. He was a fidgety one, Aasimah noted. He continued his game for a while, thinking over everything that Aasimah said to him. They stood on the rooftop for a long while, not speaking a single word to each other.
Adsuni looked up at the sky, taking note of the moon's position. He took a deep breath and shrugged off the outer layer of his robe, enjoying the cool nightly breeze. He spread the garment about his spot on the roof, and bade Aasimah to sit down along with him.
She gave him a strange look, and he smiled, though Aasimah could see that there was a bit of pain behind that expression.
“You will never trust me, will you?”
Aasimah felt a tad guilty. He was beginning to wear down her resolve, and that was dangerous. A small part of her did want to trust him and let go of the more painful memories of her past, but there was just too much at stake. Trusting others led to vulnerability, something she couldn't afford.
Dinavhek- The Fall Page 8