A E Johnson

by alice johnson

  serve in the temples, in Xencliff, my father was so

  proud when he found out, it was just before…” Harris

  stopped, he could no longer speak of it.

  “I assume their candles are yet to be lit?” Her

  tender voice brought comfort to Harris, he did not feel

  angry, he felt lost. “You have carried this burden for

  far too long, Harris,” she placed her hand on his

  shoulder, “it is no longer your burden to bear.”

  “It will always be my burden,” his voice broke as

  he told her, “my life has led me here, to this temple,

  so much has happened, in such a short space of time,

  I just need to straighten out, that’s all.”

  His comment seemed to confuse Lorena; her

  usual knowledge of the world did not provide her an

  answer. “I can only offer you this,” she shook her

  head, not knowing what else to say, “the birds sing

  strongest, after a storm, to let everyone know, they’re

  still alive.”

  Her words forced Harris to sit straight. “My storm

  is far from over,” he raised his brows.

  “Then you must end one storm, before another

  can begin.” Her soft way with words spoke to Harris,

  he knew she was right, but it was not how he worked.

  “You are a wonder to this world, Harris, your past has

  brought you to this moment now, if there is something

  you need to change, you must first let go of it, before

  you can change your future.” Lorena slowly stood,

  silently she walked back towards the alter, her flowing

  white dress was impossible to see past as she turned,

  she walked back towards Harris, she handed him a

  taper. “You are Xencliff, Harris, you hold grudges, not

  your past.” Lorena left Harris in the temple of silent

  contemplation.

  His day was spent with the image of his sisters,

  standing on the cliff, calling his name. The barn, as the

  Atlanti entered, giving his mother the choice of who to

  save, they taunted her, they were cruel, calculating. He

  could still hear their screams reaching to the trees.

  The candles in his deep green eyes, reminded him of

  the flames from the barn that night.

  As he sat in the temple, for the first time in over

  twenty years, he began to feel pity for his mother; she

  was faced with the impossible, and he had blamed her

  for that. He rarely had the chance to reflect on such

  things, but as the stars began to cover the skies, he was

  ready, he wanted to let go of his past, his sister’s pain,

  and terror. His revenge had been realised many times

  since, now he wanted to focus on the next phase of his

  life; becoming the commander he needed to be.

  As he stood, he took the taper, he lit four candles,

  and began to leave. Lorena was stood at the door.

  “May I ask,” she stepped towards him, “who were they

  for?”

  Harris glanced towards the candles. “My father,

  Eric, my sisters Adella and Allie.”

  “And the fourth?”

  Harris looked back again. “As I say, there aren’t

  enough candles, the fourth, is for the rest, I can tell

  you their names, but that would take a turn.” Her eyes

  widened as she stood back, knowing that Harris had

  seen more death and destruction than most, his time

  as the commander was only beginning.

  The beds in Sonnin were far more comfortable

  than the hard beds of Cronnin. Their use of the soft

  woods around them and soft wool provided a

  refreshing rest for Harris. He did not plan to stay in

  Sonnin for long. The guest quarters of the palace were

  to the back of the hall, past the large round room

  which stood in the centre of the hall. His night of rest

  was soon disturbed, as he heard footsteps outside of

  his door. Harris lifted himself up the bed. His hearing

  was exceptional, but in the dead of night his senses

  seemed to work wonders. The fire flowers in the room

  slowly began to light, a dim blue surrounded the

  room, the door slowly opened.

  “Who’s there?” Harris asked, his deep rumbling

  voice sent a shockwave through her as she stepped

  inside, “Harelda?” he asked, shocked, as she stepped

  into his room.

  With nothing but a thin gown covering her slender

  frame she softly stepped inside. “Good evening,” she

  greeted with a tender voice as she closed the door

  behind her.

  “Why are you here?” he could not help but allow

  a smile to grow, the very sight of her seemed to wake

  something in him. He had forgotten that his

  reputation was one many women wanted to

  experience.

  Harelda slowly glided towards him, her caramel

  locks of soft flowing hair hung by her side and waved

  down her back. Her eyes shone in the light of the blue

  room. Her age did not show, she was stunningly

  beautiful, and now he could admit it.

  “Harris, let me make one thing very clear,” she

  slowly walked towards him, “I find you irresistible,”

  her eyes shone with lust, “I have waited a long time to

  finally meet you and have you alone.” She slowly sat

  on the edge of the bed, her wavy hair drifted towards

  the bed sheets, blending with the silk. She reached

  down and slowly began to undo the ties to her gown.

  “I will wait no longer, commander, take me or reject

  me, the choice is yours.” She dropped her gown,

  Harris’s eyes drifted about her body, he could not

  resist, her skin was as soft as a fresh peach, her hair

  was like the softest silk he had ever felt, he knelt on

  the bed behind her, kissing her neck and shoulders,

  his hands reached around to feel her breasts, she had

  carried several children, but it did not show in her

  magical fey body. Her skin was still young and firm.

  His hands drifted down her stomach, towards the

  place where he knew how to give his queen the most

  ultimate pleasure she had ever felt. Not only did he

  want to please her, he wanted to impress her. His

  Xencliff teachings would show that night, his tongue

  was his most powerful weapon before he pleased her

  in ways she had never experienced before.

  Harris rode from Sonnin a new man, but not for

  any good reason. He had come to terms with the hate

  he had for his mother, but as he rode down the rain

  drenched roads his head was spinning, his stomach

  was twisted, full of guilt. The roads were dark as storm

  clouds loomed overhead.

  “She’s obsessed,” he said to himself as he rode on

  Svend. Svend twisted his eyes but continued cantering,

  “how am I going to tell her, she will find out, you’re

  not helping here, Svend,” Svend slowed to a trot,

  “she’s going to kill me, and I mean, actually fucking

  kill me!” Luckily, the road was empty, otherwise he

  would seem insane. Harris held his head as he sat up

  straight on Svend. “Ahhhh!” he shouted, “what have I

  done?” His eyes were f
illing with more fear. “She is

  marrying Brenin, she can’t expect me to just go

  without for the rest of my life,” he reasoned to himself,

  “but still, she is her mother,” he softly said, arguing

  against, “I could marry Harelda? Nope, that would be

  weird, I just won’t tell her, simple, I’ll say nothing, and

  if she ever finds out, I can deny it, completely.” He

  nodded as he held Svend’s reins. Svend gave a shake

  to his head as his trot became a slow walk. “I don’t

  think she’ll believe me either.” He became silent, he

  was defeated by his own argument, he lifted his head

  and sighed, “It was only supposed to be a quick stop.”

  Never a man to be ashamed of his actions, he

  began to think of every regrettable decision he had

  ever made, nothing compared to his night of passion

  with Harelda Duirwud.

  Chapter Sixteen Dangerous Games

  “I read the book,” Librye whispered as she stood

  opposite Harris’s desk. The early morning sun was

  still dull in the room, his head was wrapped in his

  arms as he sat resting his head on the desk. “Harris,”

  she whispered, trying to wake him slowly. “It’s called

  from the shadows.”

  “I’m just resting my eyes,” he mumbled. He had

  not moved since returning amidst the start of the early

  morning chorus. The mist of rain had seeped into his

  leather cloak, his arm braces and leg braces were still

  upon his person, his swords still hung by his side. He

  had not even bothered to take his cloak off.

  Her voice quivered with a sound of sadness. “I

  read the book, Harris, is it true?”

  Harris raised his head from the desk, as if it

  weighed far heavier than it did when he left Cronnin.

  “Which book?” he asked, his voice was deep, a

  mumbled tiredness seemed to dwell deep in his

  throat. He reached for a glass at the side of his desk,

  having left a glass of water before he left for Sonnin, it

  would not be the best, but it would quench his thirst.

  He looked to Librye with his brows furrowed. “You’re

  looking better at least.”

  “I’m feeling much better, the pain is still there, but

  it isn’t as bad now.” Her voice of anguish seemed to

  snap Harris from his strange mood. “Mord doesn’t

  know I’m here,” she looked down, she stepped back

  from the desk that her chin only just reached to reveal

  she was still wearing her cotton night gown.

  Harris raised his brows, he disapproved of Librye

  sneaking out, but knew she would never go far.

  “What’s this book you speak of?”

  Librye was annoyed at having to repeat herself.

  “From the shadows,” she said with a low tone, “is it

  true?”

  Harris gave a twisted smile; he had read the book.

  “Artistic licence,” he softly said, “some of it is true,”

  his eyes twisted to a quick open glare towards the

  desk, “most of it is true,” he looked back to Librye

  and softened his eyes, “I told you not to read it, why

  did you?”

  Librye thought for a moment, her innocent smile

  twisted to the side, she looked to him from the corner

  of her eyes. “You fascinate me.”

  Harris sat back; his brow furrowed. “Not another

  one!” he whined.

  Librye broke her look, her brow pulled in. “What

  do you mean?”

  Harris shook his head as he sat forward, he placed

  his hands on the desk. “Never mind,” he softly said,

  “let’s just say, some of the book carries certain

  exaggerations.”

  “What part?” she asked as she stepped forward.

  Her excited eyes glared towards him.

  Harris rolled his eyes and puffed out his cheeks. “I

  can’t say exactly, but a writer, would call it artistic

  licence.” His smile grew as he sat back.

  “Certainly, they would need your permission

  first?”

  Harris gave a slow sigh, he rested back in his chair,

  placing his hands at the back of his head. “She did

  have my permission, her name is Cally, she’s a tavern

  owner, she witnessed most of the things I did in that

  book, but like I say some of it is a gross exaggeration.”

  Librye stepped further forward, her eyes began to

  examine his, wondering what parts of the book were

  true. “You once hung a man from a bar?”

  Harris gave a low nod. “Sort of,” he replied, being

  as vague as he could, “that one is true.”

  “You hit a man so hard he was dead before he hit

  the floor?”

  Harris quickly stood from his chair; his face was a

  comical unchanged look of hidden pride. “I don’t

  want to play this game.” He made his way towards his

  room at the back of his chambers.

  “It isn’t a game, Harris!” called Librye as she

  pursued him, “is it true?” she stood by the door to his

  room.

  Harris turned; he spun his finger for Librye to turn

  as he began removing his lizard skin armour. He sat

  on the edge of his bed as he asked, “Why are you so

  interested, Tiny One?”

  Librye turned slightly. “You’re supposed to be

  teaching me, so far, I have very little to go on,” she

  complained.

  Harris gave a heavy sigh of defeat, he stood,

  placing his armour on the manakin in the room. “Very

  well, yes that is sort of true, however, no one can

  confirm if he was dead before he hit the floor or not,”

  he said in his defence.

  Librye thought for a moment before she asked, “Is

  it true you once took on thirty Atlanti and won?”

  Harris changed his tunic, from one black tunic into

  another. “That is true.”

  “How?” she asked as she spun, she was excited to

  find out more.

  He again turned his finger, mid-air, for Librye to

  turn. “I was returning from Rathen, they have a

  creature there, in the swamps, a frog, its poison is so

  potent it can kill a thousand men in seconds, I coated

  my blades and had some fun,” he said with a widening

  smile.

  Librye was astonished, his honesty was what she

  needed even if it did make her feel slightly ill. “What

  about the Atlanti camp, even in the book, it says you

  came across a camp in the dead of night, by the

  morning they were all dead?”

  Harris laughed, it confused Librye. “It was an easy

  one, turn back,” as Librye turned, Harris was buckling

  his trousers. “The Atlanti tents are much like ours, the

  side of them are easy to get under, but I didn’t go

  under, I learned a lot in Xencliff, we have salt mines,

  in the mines, a horrid smelling chemical is made,

  chlora, along with the crystals which come from the

  running of the mill wheels, mix the two and add to

  water, however, I added it to vinegar, the gas killed

  them all over night.” His knowledge of such things far

  outweighed hers, it was the first time Librye felt like ar />
  child, he knew so much more than she did.

  Slowly, she walked towards him, her mouth was

  gaping, her footsteps were slow. “You poisoned

  them?” her mouth curled down; trepidation filled her

  eyes.

  “They were a party searching for…” Harris paused,

  he looked to her innocent eyes. “Librye, all the people

  I killed, all those men, they were bad men,” he said

  with sadness as he nodded with his eyes wide. “The

  world is filled with the beauty you see, Tiny One, but

  it is also filled with the shit I see.”

  “What were they looking for, Harris?”

  Harris sat up, he did not know how to reply, but

  knew he had to. “I keep having to tell myself you’re a

  child, secretly I know, you’re so much more than

  that.” His face turned to a lost look of sorrow. “They

  were looking for women, Librye, young women, to

  take, they force them to have their children, the

  Atlanti are much larger than fey and feymen, but the

  children of these women are as nimble as we are, only

  they tend to be larger, better built and stronger.”

  Librye could not reply, she wanted to forget all

  what Harris said, but knew she could not, her mind

  would not allow her to. “You need to stop that,” she

  softly said, Harris furrowed his brow, “you use terrible

  language, all the time,” it was clear she disagreed with

  Harris’s swearing, “but you are the smartest person I

  know.”

  Her words shocked Harris, he sat back and

  laughed. “I’m not smart, Librye, in fact, I’m very

  fucking stupid,” he huffed as he had flash backs of his

  time in Sonnin.

  Librye had no idea what he was talking about, but

  what she saw was Harris’s modesty. “I think you’re

  more intelligent than you often let on.”

  “You have to be in this business, from a young age,

  I struggled to understand the world, it was as if I was

  born with it all,” he laughed as he took his boots and

  began putting them back on, “what else did you read?”

  he sat up straight.

  “The man whose throat you crushed,” she said

  wide eyed.

  Her excitement seemed to worry Harris, but he

  still wanted to be honest with Librye. “True.”

  Librye stood back, she lifted her arms. “Then what