“Your family's history is coated in the blood of their kinsmen. It's hard to blame them.”
“Right, yes, you've been here so long I sometimes forget that you're not truly of Dinavhene blood. It matters not; the point is that the pointy-eared fellows won't help us this time. They certainly didn't want to help us the last time. Damn near chased us out!”
“But if the beast-folk are returning, they will have a personal interest in that bit of information, won't they?”
“Bah, not this again! My ancestors slew them all. They're gone. They're history. They're—”
“—back! I am telling you, my men have been on the hunt for them. They've captured seven people this week. I'll be surprised if even one of them is actually one of those monsters, but you never know.”
“They looked more like elves than humans, last I heard,” the king grumbled.
“Only some of them of them did. Others looked just like humans. That's why it was so difficult to wipe them out. And if they have returned, some of them may be survivors of that purge, and they will want revenge. I am telling you, my friend, you can't sit back on this. Not anymore. Your council is turning against you—”
They heard a door open and shut, and the sound of boots shuffling against the hard stone floor.
“Apologies, gentlemen. I take it I missed out on dinner?”
“Hymuse!” Adsuni gasped. “When did he get here? I never heard—”
Aasimah shushed him and leaned a bit closer, frowning in concentration.
“Ah, yes, I regret to say that you missed out on a delightful little feast. No matter, we'll make sure you're in on the next one,” the king answered.
“We were just talking about the reemergence of the beast-folk,” Konrad informed the newcomer.
“I see... Yes, it's a rather unfortunate affair, and the worst possible timing as well. Our relations with Takirar remain delicate at best. If the rumors are true that they are returning, this could unearth a rather ugly portion of our history, no?”
“You don't seem terribly worried.”
“The truth was going to come out eventually. There is little we can do to prevent that. You are correct, however, in that we must do something. This is the time to act.”
The king grumbled unintelligibly, evidently unimpressed with his friends' insight into the matter. Aasimah could almost feel the mounting frustration within their little group.
“Does the prince know? Have you told him about your family's history?” another man was saying, his voice smooth and melodic.
The king cleared his throat. “He's too young to understand that. He's grown up with monster stories, but as far as he's concerned, they're fairy-tales, and that's how it should be. He's not wise enough to understand the true meaning behind them. I'll let him continue playing his childhood games in peace. When he shows me he's ready, only then will I tell him.”
The prince met Aasimah's eyes briefly, and shifted forward as quietly as he could, desperate to hear more.
“I beg your pardon, my king, but don't you think that might be a bad idea, in the long run? If attempts are being made on his life, the prince should know why. He's at that age where he's going to be taking risks. He will get out on his own again, and he will find himself in danger again. If you're going to warn him of the dangers, he ought to know what to look out for.”
It was Konrad speaking this time.
They heard a soft huffing sound – probably from the king, as he digested his friends' words (and the meal).
“He isn't ready,” the man said at last.
Konrad wasn't having any of it.
“Aye, and he never will be. Sometimes you just have to take the risk and tell them before it's too late. You don't want him running off headlong into danger again, do you?”
“As I've heard it, you have been doing a fine job keeping an eye out for him,” Hymuse put in. “He has no idea just how many are watching him. Really, I think you're overestimating the risk.”
The door opened again. This time, it was Lady Kharqa who entered.
“Have I missed anything?” she asked.
“No, my good lady. You are right on time. I trust that you have been given a proper tour of your quarters?”
“Yes. They are... adequate.”
There was a tense momentary silence that followed her statement.
“Ah, they are not to your liking?” the king asked, sounding crestfallen.
“No, they are fine. Now, what is there to discuss?”
“Oh, nothing, we were just wrapping this up. Please, take a seat. I'll pour you some wine. I think you'll like this one, at least – we had it imported all the way from Toluduna!”
With that, dessert was brought out. They could hear Itholera and Glanen serving the small party. Adsuni bit down on his lip nervously when Konrad asked about Aasimah, and felt a warm wave of relief wash over him when Itholera answered that the young woman had been feeling most unwell, and was forced to retire early for the night. The king wouldn't be happy, but he wouldn't want a sickly person preparing their food, either. He would be more forgiving than Lady Kharqa might be, in her own home.
The prince would have continued eavesdropping, perhaps well into the night, as long as their conversation continued, had he not found himself being nudged away from his spot by Aasimah. “We're done here,” she whispered in his ear as she gently tugged at him. Adsuni moved away from his spot, trying to make as little noise as possible. While it was unlikely that they would hear the occasional shuffling noise, he couldn't be too careful.
They returned to his mother's work table, even more confused and disturbed than they had been before, both lost in their own thoughts for a long while.
After several tense minutes, Adsuni broke the silence.
“I want to say they were talking nonsense. Beast-folk? Really? It sounds absolutely absurd!”
“Careful,” Aasimah warned him. “Don't raise your voice too loud. You never know what they might be able to overhear. We heard them, after all.”
“I know, we've come too far to risk getting caught now. But you agree with me, right?”
Aasimah fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable. “I've... heard something about these beast-folk before. I think I have, anyway. I don't remember much, but I know that my fa... the leader of my tribe used to talk about peoples that were lost to the world. The beast-folk sound familiar enough.”
“And do you believe in them?”
“Well, sort of. I don't really know enough about them, but I mean, is the idea any more ridiculous than the small, bearded people and pointed-ear folk, as you call them?”
Adsuni picked at his chin, thinking the question over. “No, I suppose not. So, what do you know? If my father's keeping this from me, it must be important! You wouldn't let me down, would you? You'd tell me if you know what they were talking about... right?”
Aasimah, who had been leaning against the table, shifted away from it. She walked over to the measuring wall, mindlessly running her fingers along the different notches, tracing the numbers and letters with a small amount of envy. The prince thought he knew why; unlike himself, she had experienced a very difficult childhood, if one could even call it that. From what little she'd told him of her past, her people were quite unstable, never settling in one place for very long, always on the run from... something.
Fleeing from the beast-folk, perhaps?
The prince might be eager to know more about the situation at hand, but he wasn't completely insensitive. He forced himself to calm down, realizing that perhaps he'd pushed his companion a bit too far for one night.
“I'm sorry, Aasimah. Please forgive me for getting so carried away.”
“You don't need to apologize. It's just that... my people have a history that might have to do with those beast-folk. I'm not sure, but if I'm right, then it's a painful one. One that I'd really rather not talk about. If your fath—the king,” she corrected herself hastily, “knows anything about them, he'll fill you in on the rest.”
The prince didn't share her confidence, but he couldn't rightly force her to relive painful memories. He had brought her into his mother's workshop, a room filled to the brim with evidence of a loving family, a happy childhood. Though his mother's life was cut very short, the prince still had a roof over his head, a doting father, and a best friend who had become something of a brother to him. Standing in that room, surrounded by toys hand-crafted by his own mother, the prince knew he led a more privileged life than he previously thought.
“Aasimah?”
“Yes?”
“About dinner...”
Aasimah laughed. “It's not what you think – really, I promise,” she added with a wink.
Adsuni would have to be satisfied with that. Before they left, he sought out the wolf figurine, which had not yet been painted, and pressed it into Aasimah's hand without so much as a word of explanation.
To Aasimah, the gesture said enough.
Chapter 17
Deceptions
∞∞∞
A full week had passed since Lady Kharqa's arrival. To the prince's surprise, her demeanor seemed to improve over time. Adsuni began to wonder if the stress of her travels might have influenced her behavior during her first day in Dinavhek. If so, he supposed that perhaps first impressions weren't as important as his father had always told him. Might he have been wrong about the Takirari woman?
He had another moment of doubt when he noticed the Lady harassing Itholera over a spill in the kitchen that hadn't yet been taken care of. The prince himself intervened, reminding her that it was their newly hired cook's responsibility to see to the kitchen, and that Itholera had been instructed to tend to the entry hall that afternoon.
Lady Kharqa was not impressed, and neither was the prince, though for a far different reason. She was absolutely merciless toward Itholera during teatime later that evening.
The prince watched as she demanded Itholera be punished for chipping a cup that she, herself, had damaged. To Adsuni's dismay, the king – who had even witnessed the ordeal himself – agreed to her demands, although he did not say exactly what he had in mind.
In the end, he deferred to Adsuni, who merely instructed her to lay low. For her own well-being, he ordered her not to accompany him outside of the palace and to stay out of the Lady's range wherever possible. The less they interacted, the better.
Although the king more or less agreed to Adsuni's terms (which were much easier to agree to when viewed from the bottom of his fourth tankard for the day), he stipulated that she be isolated from Aasimah, so that they might get more done working independently from each other.
As for Aasimah, Lady Kharqa was strangely dismissive of her. They rarely crossed paths, but when it happened, the prince could not help but notice the strange looks often exchanged between the two.
He had a feeling that Lady Kharqa might feel intimidated by Aasimah. Indeed, however reluctant Adsuni might be to admit it, he could not help but feel the same way. It gave him a strange sense of pleasure to think that this powerful, angry, hateful woman could possibly be put in her place by a mere servant.
As for Glanen and Sir Konrad, Adsuni did not see much of them over the past week. It was a mixed blessing; he missed the company of his best friend, but felt no such affection for his father.
Presently, the prince found himself escorting Lady Kharqa to the Temple of Aranaot, dedicated to Dinavhek's patron goddess, Anikasi. King Zaeem thought it would be a good idea to bring her there, to the grandest holy site in all of Dinavhek, in order to observe Origin Day.
Adsuni thought differently.
Never in his life had the young man witnessed such disrespectful behavior towards one's deities. Her casual disdain belied her grace and formal upbringing. When they passed by the wishing well just outside of the temple, the prince supplied her with a couple of the finest silver coins Dinavhek had to offer; she tossed them into the well from over her shoulder without so much as a glance to see if her aim had been true.
It was not, and the prince found himself picking up after her and sheepishly dropping the coins into the well on her behalf, fervently hoping that whatever it was she wished for would not come true. He had a sick feeling in his stomach that it would not be so, for the world had a terrible habit of rewarding awful behavior.
He couldn't understand how she could look upon the magnificent temple and feel anything short of awe, for it was easily the grandest structure in the entire kingdom. The temple had an 'open' floor plan, its red-shingled roof supported by tall columns that lined the main area. Each column had designs carved into it depicting the birth of the world itself, and the struggles of Anikasi and Oranuken.
There was a fire lit it in the center of the temple, where scores of visitors were submitting their offerings to the gods. Each visitor wore a ceremonial robe; the commonfolk typically wearing solid colors, and the noblefolk sporting more intricate designs. Still, this was a day that the commoners and nobles typically came together in prayer, so the majority of the noblefolk tended to 'dress down.' This was not a day for showing off one's finery, after all.
Things did not improve once they actually entered the temple grounds, for Lady Kharqa did not hold Anikasi, Goddess of the Moon and Mother to All in nearly so high regard as the people of Dinavhek did. She went on to explain that Takirar greatly revered Oranuken, God of the Sun and The Great Destroyer. The Takiraris believed Anikasi to be the source for many, if not all of the world's ills, for it was she who caused the death of The Sun and The Moon.
Or so they say, Adsuni thought sourly, wondering why on Zarama his father thought it wise to bring a Takirari to their local temple, and as if that weren't enough, on such an important holiday!
Today marked the anniversary of the day that the Sun and the Moon fought and destroyed each other, leaving behind Anikasi and Oranuken to fill the void and restore the world. The Dinavhenes were taught that it was mainly Oranuken's fault that the Sun and Moon perished; the Takiraris thought the exact opposite. Dinavhenes were also taught that their country was the first of the human lands, and that Anikasi Herself was responsible for creating it. Adsuni wondered if the truth might lie somewhere in the middle of it all.
Someday, when the time would come to leave his mortal body behind, he would ask Anikasi Herself what really happened that day.
At least, that's what he told himself, until he realized that doing so would be an act of unspeakable hubris. It was said that Anikasi valued the young and the curious, and Adsuni hoped that the teachings were true, otherwise, he could be in serious trouble with the goddess for entertaining such thoughts.
“Why do they do that?”
“Mm?” Adsuni asked, not paying even the slightest bit of attention to his irate guest.
“Why are they burning so much food?”
The prince remembered then where he was, and who he was with. He cleared his throat and looked around, his eyes settling upon a small fire in which visitors to the temple were burning small offerings, mostly single berries, slices of bread, and the occasional bit of cheese or meat. 'So much' was a bit of an overstatement, he felt. Certainly, the poorer farmers wouldn't starve themselves out by burning valuable resources in excess. Even the wealthier patrons burned only that which they would not miss, for they remembered well the hardships they faced after the war.
“They are sending offerings to Anikasi and Oranuken. Each person burns only what they can afford to, and it is believed that with so many people coming together, the Gods will have a great feast, and will be peaceful for the next year.”
To his surprise, Lady Kharqa actually seemed a bit curious. It was a welcome change, and the prince wondered if he might finally be getting through to her. He decided to press his advantage.
“Dinavhenes strive for peace between the gods, as we are a people that have suffered greatly over the many centuries. If there is peace between our gods, then we believe it is more likely that there will be peace between all of us. After all, if the gods can forgive
each other for far greater transgressions, then can we not forgive each other for petty slights?”
She wasn't quite convinced.
“But why should peace between humans be left up to the gods?” she asked. “None of the gods have so active a role in our lives, do they?”
That gave the prince pause.
He thought back to that night with Aasimah, when they climbed up to the roof to look over the city. He remembered how he'd thought of Anikasi then, and how he felt as though she'd abandoned his people. The priests often praised the moon goddess by telling people, over and over, that she valued independence and free thought. Might it be that she simply had a more hands-off approach to guiding her people than that of her rival, Oranuken?
But then, he mused, Lady Kharqa seemed to believe that neither of the gods seemed particularly invested in their followers' lives.
That was a uniquely disturbing thought – or comforting, depending on how one might approach it. Free-spirited Aasimah would probably enjoy the idea of the gods leaving their followers to fend for themselves, but Adsuni, who found that he often relied upon others, felt very differently about it. Not having the gods to come to for help in matters he, as a human, were too great for him to handle was beyond disquieting.
Looking back at Lady Kharqa, the prince detected a ghost of a smile upon her lips, and knew he'd been had. Fine, he thought, let her have her little victory. We'll see how smart she is when she meets the high priest.
“I suppose that unrelenting optimism is part of Dinavhek's charm,” she said sweetly.
Like how you charmed my father? Adsuni thought and wisely held back.
The prince was grateful indeed when their incredibly awkward conversation was interrupted by Sir Konrad, who had come to the temple to pray and burn offerings for his son. Delighted by his unexpected appearance, Lady Kharqa inquired as to the whereabouts of Glanen, seeming a tad disappointed in his father's answer that he was stuck at the Academy for the day.
What Adsuni knew, and Lady Kharqa did not, was that Glanen had begun blowing off lessons at the Academy in favor of sneaking out to Dre'shii and a few of its neighboring villages and offering further assistance. He began to wonder if Sir Konrad might be aware of this, perhaps even supporting in his own way, only to then be reminded of the boy in the alley.
Dinavhek- The Fall Page 19