Knight of a Trillion Stars

by Dara Joy

  She only prayed she wouldn’t be gobbled up in the streets by one of the monsters Lorgin had mentioned before she got the chance.

  Deana was getting dressed when Lorgin returned to their chamber.

  For some reason, after what they had shared last night, she felt terribly shy. He did not suffer from any such affliction as he came up to her, softly kissing her on the forehead.

  “You must be hungry, Adeeann. It is well past the midday hour. Would you like to accompany me to the little sacri in the center of the keep? I am sure we can find something to eat there.”

  “Okay,” she mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.

  “Come.” He took her hand and led her outside.

  For Zarrain, the day was a pleasant one. The heat was at a bearable level; occasionally there was a faint puff of air which could almost be classified as a breeze.

  Lorgin led her to a stall where he purchased some turnovers which resembled the ones they’d had on Ryka Twelve. Only these were a lot spicier. Deana wondered if the spice was masking the age of the meat. She eyed the pastry dubiously.

  “It is fine, I assure you. Although perhaps not best on an empty stomach. Would you like something else?”

  Deana scanned the stall. “How about some plain baked dough?” Close enough to a donut, she thought.

  He handed her one of the brick-shaped loaves. “You do not care much for the food here.” His eyes traveled over her form. “You have lost some weight.”

  She took a bite of the dough. It not only looked like a brick, it was as hard as one. “I’m not used to it.”

  “I admit the choices must seem alien to you, but you must overcome such problems. You would not wish to appear provincial, would you?” He winked at her.

  She laughed. “That is the least of my concerns, Lorgin.”

  After they had finished eating, Lorgin led her through the alleyways of the keep into several tiny shops. They browsed a bit, looking at the items in companionable silence.

  Deana glanced his way every now and then, when he wasn’t looking her way. His handsome profile. His beautiful eyes. His sensitive hands. Those hands…

  It was hard to believe that the regally contained man next to her had been an uncontrollable, erotically wild lover just a few short hours ago.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  She was getting excited just thinking about how he had made love to her last night. Her gaze strayed to his lips—those smooth, silky hot lips—and she couldn’t help but think of where they had been just a few hours ago. She blushed, turning quickly to look at some merchandise lest he notice.

  There was more variety in the shops than Deana would have thought, considering they were at the end of never. Lorgin told her the caravans had brought the items from all over Zarrain, as well as a few off-planet items. He motioned to the proprietor to bring a silky jewel-toned robe for his inspection.

  “Do you like it?” He turned to her.

  “It’s very pretty,” she replied without thinking.

  “I agree.” He handed the shop owner several gems. “Send it up to the castle,” he told the little man.

  “Lorgin, what are you doing?”

  He ignored her question, turning back to the proprietor. “Let me see those caftans in the corner.”

  The little man hesitated. “Those are pure krilli, sir. They are very costly.”

  Lorgin motioned impatiently for him to do his bidding.

  There were four caftans. Each was obviously hand-made and exquisitely embroidered. Deana had never seen or felt such beautiful cloth. It was softer than the softest silk. The color combinations of the threads were extraordinary, each dress displaying a tonal combination rather than a particular color.

  Lorgin watched her face as she viewed the krilli caftans. He spoke to the man. “Send those as well.” Deana gasped, her eyes flying to him.

  “All”—the man cleared his throat—“all of them?” They were outrageously expensive.

  “No, Lorgin!” Deana knew what he was doing. It was his response to her comment last night regarding her clothes. But she hadn’t meant for him to spend all this money on her; she had simply tried to make a point, which actually had nothing to do with clothes.

  Lorgin looked down at her through half-veiled eyes as he spoke to the shop owner. “Yes, all of them.”

  “Lorgin, it’s not necessary. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I do have to do this, Adeeann. It was remiss of me to be so unthoughtful of your needs.”

  “You’re being ridiculous; you’re the most thoughtful man I have ever met.” It was true. She recalled how he always was concerned over her comfort and well-being. He really was a very gallant man. And a very stubborn one once his mind was made up. He seemed to read her thoughts as she was about to voice another objection.

  “It is done. Besides, I vow I look forward to seeing you in them, although you must promise me to wait until we reach Aviara before you wear them. There will still be the danger of slavers on the way back to the tunnel point.”

  “Thanks for reminding me. I forgot all about the return journey through that awful desert.”

  They left the shop, continuing with their walk.

  “Perhaps it will not be so bad. Traed will be able to provide us with adequate escort. At least we will not have to fear being so outnumbered in an attack, should one occur.”

  “Do you think Traed will be joining us?”

  “I do not know. But…the time has come for me to confront him directly. I cannot afford to tarry here any longer. The situation with Theardar grows critical.”

  “He doesn’t know his father is involved, does he?”

  “No, and I wish it to remain thus. I will leave it to Yaniff to explain the situation to him. If I mention to Traed that Theardar is involved, there will be no chance of Traed agreeing to come back to Aviara with us.”

  They walked on awhile in silence, holding hands. Deana asked the question she had been wondering about for some time.

  “Lorgin, did Theardar abuse Traed?”

  “Abuse him?” Lorgin looked at her confused, not understanding her question. “He blamed Traed for his mother’s death.”

  “Did he have anything to do with it?”

  “No, he was just a babe at the time, newly born, when his mother died.”

  Deana was surprised. “She died in childbirth?”

  “Yes.”

  “That doesn’t happen very often anymore on my world.”

  He glanced her way. “Nor here, zira. There were…extenuating circumstances.”

  “So Theardar blamed Traed for his mother’s death—wasn’t that rather irrational?”

  “Yes. As you have heard, it is said Theardar is mad. As a boy, nothing Traed could do was ever right enough or good enough for him. My father, Krue, guided Traed when he could, trying to undo the damage that Theardar inflicted. The tragedy is that Traed was exceptional in so many ways, but Theardar was blind to his son.”

  Deana swallowed, hesitant to ask, but knowing she had to. “Did Theardar beat him?”

  Lorgin looked away. “He punished him severely,” was all he would say.

  “How terribly sad.”

  “His spirit is not broken. Traed has the seeds of honor and courage, and, I believe, great compassion in him. He has the makings of a Charl if he would but seek it.”

  “But he won’t?”

  “No. He will not do anything which even remotely follows in Theardar’s footsteps.” Lorgin exhaled resignedly. “Knowing what I know, I cannot blame him. He needs to find his own way.”

  “How can he do that hiding away on this hideous world?”

  “He cannot. The time has come for Traed to leave. Not just because of the quest, but for himself as well.” Lorgin gazed up at the sky. “I will just have to convince him of it.”

  Deana smiled ironically, speaking quietly. “I shouldn’t worry too much, Lorgin. You have a certain talent for convincing.”

  It was the only r
eference she had made to their previous night. His mouth turned up slightly at the corners as his gaze fell to her.

  “Mmm.” He bent over to brush her lips with his own.

  Traed did not join them for the evening meal, which was not a good sign. Lorgin didn’t comment on his absence, but Deana could tell that he was concerned. Rejar elected not to bring up the subject either. As if he sensed the tension in his brother, Rejar sought safer, more lighthearted topics.

  {A man delivered many colorful caftans here today. Perhaps I will offer one to a pretty maid I have seen in the caravan.}

  Lorgin raised an eyebrow. “No, you will not. They are gifts to my wife. If you wish to make such a generous offering to this maid, might I suggest you provide it?”

  {You might, but it lacks my subtle touch.}

  Lorgin snorted. “And what subtle touch is that, brother? I vow you do not have a subtle bone in your body when it comes to women.”

  Rejar grinned. {I did not mean that subtle touch; I meant having a maid give her favors to me because of a gift you paid for.}

  Deana giggled, putting her hand to her mouth.

  Lorgin looked at his brother, surprised. “You have allowed her to hear your less than honorable words?”

  “Oh, Lorgin, lighten up. Rejar is just teasing you.”

  Lorgin looked totally perplexed. “Lighten up?”

  Rejar and Deana both burst out laughing.

  Lorgin sought out Traed after their meal. He found him in his study, sitting before the fire, staring into the flames. This time he did not hold the phfiztger in his arms. Unconsciously, his hands clutched the arms of the chair, mirroring the upsetting thoughts he was obviously having.

  Lorgin entered the room without knocking, quietly closing the door behind him.

  “I thought I would find you here, my friend.”

  Traed did not respond, did not even look his way. Lorgin found another chair and pulled it up to the fire next to him.

  “What troubles you so, Traed?”

  For a long while Traed did not answer. When he did, his voice was very low. “You, of all people, must ask me this?”

  Lorgin did not don the mask of pretense, even to spare Traed’s feelings. “You must put aside these thoughts for now. I tell you, Traed, you must return to Aviara with me.”

  Traed looked up at the ceiling, then closed his eyes. “It is impossible. I cannot do this. Even for you, my friend.”

  “It is not just for me; there are those who must depend upon you now.”

  “I want no one depending upon me. That is why I came here. That is why I shall remain here.”

  “Such choices are not always ours, Traed. Sometimes choices are made for us whether we want them or not.”

  Traed rested his head back against the rim of his chair. “I cannot, Lorgin.”

  Lorgin remained silent for a few moments. “Sometimes, you remind me of my brother…”

  Traed looked at him in surprise. “Rejar and I have very little in common.”

  Lorgin stretched his booted feet out to the fire, crossing his ankles. “More than either of you thinks.”

  “Explain yourself.”

  “Neither one of you wants to recognize your birthright. Both of you deny who you are and what you can become. Rejar hides himself behind his carefree, frolicsome Familiar ways while he denies his Charl background. You hide out here, as Adeeann would say, in the back of nowhere, hiding from what you fear, denying your own heritage.”

  Traed raised an eyebrow. “You would make a terrible diplomat, Lorgin. You have never learned to temper your words.”

  “Then it is fortunate I am a warrior, is it not?”

  “Most fortunate.”

  Lorgin rose, going to a sideboard; he poured them each a horn of keeran. He handed one to Traed before retaking his chair.

  Traed gestured with his horn. “I take it this means I am in for a siege here?”

  Lorgin shrugged, grinning faintly. Traed knew him all too well.

  “It will not do you much good, Lorgin, for I tell you I will not set foot on Aviara again.”

  “There are things you do not know.” Lorgin glanced at Traed, reflected in the firelight, realizing that there were probably things he did not know as well. But such things did not concern him now; he had a particular task to accomplish. It was not a time to let his thinking be sidetracked.

  Traed cupped the horn between his hands. “What if I tell you I do not wish to know of these things? Will it make a difference?”

  Lorgin ignored his words, plowing on. “Yaniff told me your mother was of the Tan-Shi.”

  “A Tan-Shi?” Traed looked perplexed. “How does he know that?”

  “How does Yaniff know anything? Believe me, if he said it, it is so.”

  Traed shook his head. “It is impossible. Tan-Shi take an oath of chastity. They devote themselves to the Rites of Passage. When they take this oath, they divest themselves…” Traed sucked in his breath.

  Lorgin finished the thought for him. “They divest themselves of the right of the Transference. All power which flows into them will flow out, taking with it their very lifeforce.”

  Traed was clearly stunned. “But…how? My father—”

  “Your father knew she was Tan-Shi.”

  “I do not understand any of this.” He took a large swallow of his keeran.

  “Your father met your mother when he was but a young man. Even though she was a young girl at the time, I am told he loved her even then. While he waited for her to come into her maturity, she had discovered that she had a different calling. She loved Theardar, but only as a friend.” Lorgin paused.

  “Continue.”

  “While Theardar was on a mission for the Alliance, she took the oath. When he returned, he was enraged, refusing to let the matter go. Even though they were the best of friends, my father could not reach Theardar or make him see reason. His behavior…his behavior concerned Krue who sought out Yaniff’s counsel.

  “When Yaniff and Krue returned to find Theardar, it was too late. He had already kidnapped your mother from the Holy Sanctuary. He took her against her will.”

  Traed paled. “By Aiyah!”

  Lorgin sipped his drink, giving Traed a moment to digest the terrible story. “The Transference was completed.”

  Traed leaned forward in his seat, dropping the horn to the floor. It bounced off the stone with a heavy clang.

  “Are you certain my father knew she had already taken the oath?”

  “Yes. He knew, but he took her anyway. Do you understand? Your father knew this but could not face the fact that it was he who killed her, killed that which he loved above all else. So, when her lifeforce left her at the moment of your birth, he blamed you. It was for this the Guild excommunicated him.”

  “Because he killed her.” Traed’s voice was a mere whisper.

  “No. Because he blamed you.”

  Traed’s head snapped up. “What are you saying?”

  “The Guild would have punished Theardar for the terrible thing he had done, but not excommunicated him. It was a crime of passion, and very possibly unbalanced behavior. They would have tried to heal him. He is, after all, a sixth-level mystic. Such power demands a certain respect. But when he blamed you, they could not allow this dishonor to continue. I understand Yaniff was opposed to their decision but was overruled. He believed your father needed a healing, not a breaching. Krue begged Theardar to leave you with us permanently, but, as you know, he refused. Although he did let you stay with us from time to time.”

  Traed stared into the flames again. “Did you know there were days when he would forget I was there? Then suddenly he would look at me as if he were just realizing he had a young boy who needed to be cared for. I lived for those moments. It was as if he would briefly come to his senses and leave me on your doorstep. I am ashamed to say I used to pray he would never return to take me away. My own father…But he always did.”

  There was nothing Lorgin could say.

>   “In a sense, Lorgin, you have just confirmed what my father has always blamed me for. My mother did die because of my birth.” When Lorgin made to protest, Traed cut him off. “Anyway, it does not matter now. The fact remains that Theardar was mad. When did this come upon him? Before or after he decided to take her? Or did he always have the seeds of madness within him, festering, waiting to grow?”

  Traed’s hands covered his eyes as if he could not stand these tortured thoughts another moment. His voice became a raw, painful sound. “Waiting to grow in me?”

  “No!” Lorgin knelt in front of Traed, pulling his hands away from his face. “Yaniff told me this will not happen to you.”

  Traed flung Lorgin aside, pacing the room as if he were trapped. “Yaniff! Yaniff! What does that old man know!”

  Lorgin stood. “More than either of us care to speculate.”

  Traed slumped back down into the chair. Lorgin stood over him. “Yaniff wants you to leave this wretched place and come back with me to Aviara.”

  Traed sighed. “For what reason?”

  “He wishes to speak with you. He will not come here.”

  “In case my loving father decides to pay his favorite and only son a visit? So, Yaniff fears to confront the Beast.”

  “Yaniff fears nothing. It is you he thinks of. He would not battle your father on your own doorstep.”

  “Does it matter?” Traed scoffed.

  “It matters to him.”

  “You said he opposed the Guild’s decision. Why would he wish to fight my father?”

  Lorgin looked away. “For what he did to you. He robbed the Charl of you, and by his actions, interfered in your destiny.”

  Traed was surprised. “Yaniff still speaks of me?”

  Lorgin smiled softly. “Often and with great fondness. Traed, you must come with me.”

  Traed bowed his head, hating having to deal with these strange emotions. Yaniff and the family of Krue were the only kindness he had known in his young life. They had taken him in, making him one of their family. Krue had almost called him son. Suleila had been like a mother to him. And Yaniff…In truth, he would not mind gazing upon the withered face of his old teacher again. Yaniff wanted to see him.