Daughter of Light (Follower of the Word Book 1)

by Morgan L. Busse

  Too bad he would never find out. Lore sighed and pushed his head deeper into the pillow. He had an urgent message to carry back to Lord Gaynor, a message that took priority over helping the young woman any more than he already had.

  4

  Caleb Tala stood on the marble balcony just outside his room. He savored the feel of the desert air. It brushed across his body and through his hair like a warm caress. A crescent moon rose to the east. Below his balcony stood the great city of Azar. Countless lights from fires and windows twinkled across the city. It reminded him of a dark piece of velvet with a thousand diamonds upon it.

  It was said that Azar was the jewel of the Temanin Empire, and tonight Caleb could believe it. For a moment more he enjoyed the view afforded him by his quarters in the palace. Then he turned back inside.

  He had a job to do this evening. Soon he would see if the days he’d spent watching Delshad and planning his mission would pay off.

  Caleb entered his room. Along the beige marble floor lay a scarlet rug with intricate blue, white, and yellow patterns. Large potted palms stood on either side of the balcony’s archway. Ahead was his bed, a monstrous thing covered in scarlet silk. Pillows with gold tassels were thrown across the silk. White gauze hung from the ceiling and draped over the bed. Changing screens painted with pictures of horses and men dressed in Temanin ancient battle armor stood in the right corner. A dark wooden chest and gold-framed mirror sat next to the screens.

  Caleb stopped and studied his reflection in the mirror. Every part of his body was covered in black except for his hands and face. He moved toward the chest and carefully removed a small jagged dagger and a pair of dark gloves. The dagger, he placed in a sheath woven into the inside of his boot. The gloves, he pulled on.

  There was hardly any moonlight as Caleb walked back toward the balcony. But he neither needed nor wanted the pale skylight this evening. The darkness suited his purpose.

  Caleb placed his hands on the balcony’s rail and leaped over the side. He hit the ground with a soft thud. Silently he made way across the grounds of the palace. Carefully manicured grass and bushes filled the open area. Paths made of tiny stones crisscrossed the garden. A grove of cypress trees grew near the palace wall, a wall made of stones that stood almost three men tall.

  He veered toward the wall and followed it until he reached an area where the stones jutted out just barely, then scurried up and over.

  Caleb jogged down the low-lit street, using shadows to cover his movements. He passed by two- and three-story sand-colored buildings. Tiny squares of light shone from the windows. Shops were dark with doors barred for the evening. Canvas booths stood empty. Dogs sniffed around the booths, hoping to find something left behind. One looked up as Caleb passed. He ignored the animal and continued on.

  He turned a corner and caught sight of a man and woman taking an evening walk. He moved to the side of a nearby booth. Using a breathing exercise, he brought his breath down to a whisper. The couple walked past, never noticing him standing in the shadows. He watched them walk around the corner, then stepped out and continued on.

  A half-hour later Caleb reached Delshad’s estate. Delshad lived in the wealthier section of Azar. Large stone walls kept the unwanted out and the rich in. A similar wall surrounded Delshad’s home. Caleb stood in the shadows. He glanced right, then left. The street was empty. He looked across the street at the wall. A cypress tree hung over one end of the wall, just left of where he stood. Perfect.

  One, two, three—He dashed across the street and reached for the top of the wall. His fingers grasped the edge. With one lunge, he brought his legs up and swerved his body around until he was crouching on the narrow ledge. He steadied himself and let his breathing calm. Then quietly he made his way to the tree and hid in its shadows.

  The aroma of desert blossoms tickled his nostrils, their scent wafting up from the blooms that covered the bushes below. The bushes circled a small pond. Tiny silver fish darted through the dark water, their scales flashing from the light reflected from the windows along the main house. Lilly pads drifted lazily across the water’s surface. Cypress trees surrounded the pond and bushes like tall silent sentinels. Their shadows extended across the entire garden and up to the house.

  The house itself stood forty feet away from the wall. Its sand-colored walls were lined with arched windows, seven on the top floor, seven on the bottom. All were dark save for a single window on the top floor. At the end of the house stood a wood awning. Dark green vines wove through the boards. Beige tiles lay along the ground.

  Caleb studied the single lit window. A cypress tree grew nearby. One of its branches grew just beneath the window. A shadow passed by the opening. There he was, right on schedule. After a few minutes, Delshad retreated farther into the house.

  Caleb jumped from the ledge. He passed the bushes and pond, using the shadows spread across the garden to make his way toward the base of the tree near the house. He stopped at the base and took a second to study the branches, looking for a path up. Then silently he began to climb.

  He made his way up the trunk, careful not to shake the branches. When he reached the branch that grew under Delshad’s window, Caleb turned and followed the limb. It sank slightly beneath his weight, but still held. He reached the window and stopped.

  Inside the room he could see Delshad take a seat at a dark wood desk located at the far end of the room, his back to the window. Two sconces hung above the desk. Both were lit. A large potted palm sat in the corner. Across the sandstone floor was a red and black rug with an intricate swirl pattern. Caleb recognized the pattern. It was one made by the nomad tribes of the Great Desert.

  The sweet scent of incense drifted through the window. Outside, the wind rustled through the leaves. Caleb slowly crossed from the branch to the windowsill, careful to keep the branch from shaking. Once he had all his weight on the windowsill, he brought his foot away from the tree. The branch barely moved.

  He silently stepped onto the floor. Delshad never turned. Caleb could hear the soft scratch of quill on parchment. Whatever Delshad was writing, it held all his attention.

  Caleb knelt down and drew his dagger from its sheath. The knife glinted in the candlelight. He straightened up and watched Delshad for a moment. Delshad was a short bald man who had served on the Temanin council for years. Caleb had seen him a couple of times, coming and going from the palace, dressed in fine embroidered robes. But tonight Delshad was dressed in a simple white tunic and dark pants. Nothing about him looked threatening. Why Lord Corin wanted him disposed of, Caleb had no idea. It wasn’t his place to ask.

  Caleb began to make his way across the room, his feet barely whispering on the floor.

  Delshad stopped writing. “I knew you would be coming.”

  Caleb didn’t care. Most people could feel death enter their room. He continued toward the older man, tightening his grip on his blade should Delshad decide to run or fight.

  Delshad placed his quill down, but he didn’t turn. Instead, he continued to stare at the wall ahead. “Before you proceed with my murder, I have a few words for you, Caleb Tala.”

  This made Caleb stop. How did Delshad know his name? Uneasiness stole over him.

  Delshad turned around in his seat and glanced up. “Do you even know why Lord Corin has ordered my death?”

  “I do as I am told.” A chill ran down Caleb’s spine. This was not normal. At this point, his victims were usually begging for mercy or fighting for their lives, not sitting here questioning him. And that look of resignation in Delshad’s eyes. As if Delshad had known all along how these last minutes of his life would play out.

  “Is that a wise thing to do?” Delshad asked. “Do you really know your cousin?”

  Caleb’s eyes narrowed. “I know him well enough. And I know that dissenters need to be silenced.” He stepped toward Delshad, the blade tight in his hand. “But there is one thing I would like to know,” he said softly, dangerously. “How did you know my name?”
/>   Delshad’s eyes grew distant. Caleb knew he should do it now, but he needed to know. Had the old man been tipped off somehow? But then why had he stayed instead of going into hiding? None of this made sense.

  “The Word revealed it to me,” Delshad said finally, his focus coming back. “Lord Corin is not who you think he is. And you, Caleb, are not who you think you are.”

  “What does that mean?” Caleb said, even more alarmed now. Corin had said nothing about Delshad being a religious man. It was bad luck to kill those who believed in higher powers. Perhaps because if there was such a thing as a god, Caleb certainly didn’t want to be on its bad side for killing one of its followers.

  “I can tell you nothing more, because I do not know,” Delshad said. “You must find that out for yourself.”

  Caleb scoffed. “No one believes in the Word anymore.”

  “He doesn’t need to be believed in to exist. And He has not forgotten you.”

  The man’s cryptic words were getting on Caleb’s nerves. It was time for this to be over. Before Delshad could say anything else, Caleb plunged the dagger into the older man’s neck, just above the collarbone.

  Delshad gasped, his hands wavering in the air. Caleb pulled the dagger out and stepped back. The older man continued to flail, his life flowing from the wound and staining his white tunic.

  Caleb wiped his dagger on one of his gloves. His mission was done.

  He turned to go, but Delshad’s dark eyes pinned him in place. Caleb watched as the old man tried to speak. Red dribbled from the corner of his lip. “I… I forgive you.” Delshad’s head slumped to the side. His throat continued to spill scarlet fluid.

  Hesitantly, Caleb reached over to the man’s neck, careful not to touch any of the blood. Delshad was dead.

  Satisfied but disturbed, he backed away. Just what had Delshad meant? To be forgiven meant he had done something wrong. And as far as Caleb was concerned, he was merely following orders.

  Still, that didn’t quench the uneasy feeling that something significant had just happened. As Caleb turned and headed back out the window, he could feel Delshad’s words worming their way into the recesses of his mind.

  “You are not who you think you are.”

  • • •

  It did not take long to reach the palace, but the trip seemed like an eternity to Caleb. All he wanted to do was report the mission a success and then retire to his quarters.

  He entered the palace courtyard the same way he had left, making sure that no one knew of his errand that evening. The feeling of unease still lingered as he climbed up into his room. If he had known Delshad had been a Follower of the Word, would he still have assassinated the councilman? Probably, Caleb thought. He changed out of his dark clothing into something more fitting a prince of Temanin. His cousin Corin held the ties to his coin pouch and always compensated him well for his missions. This job alone would see him through many months.

  If only he could find a way to bury the old man’s words still echoing inside his mind.

  Caleb placed his dagger carefully back inside the wooden chest. He brushed his hair back and checked his appearance one more time. Satisfied, he left his room.

  Golden sconces were lit along the hall. Polished marble glimmered beneath their light. A servant dressed in a short white tunic was on all fours, washing the floor. Caleb didn’t so much as slow as he approached the man. The servant scrambled out of his way.

  Caleb turned a corner and followed another hall through the palace toward the back rooms. He knew Corin was busy this evening entertaining the court. No doubt to have an alibi in the morning when news of Delshad’s death came out. Caleb nodded to himself. It would work to his own advantage as well to be seen by the court.

  Caleb passed through the long opulent curtains into the inner court. He paused for a moment and let his eyes wander across the room, taking in its inhabitants. Court musicians played in one corner. Couches and large sitting cushions filled the other three corners. Upon the crimson furniture sat the elite of Azar, sampling wine and food.

  Servants dressed in short white tunics carried platters around to those reclining. More colorfully dressed dancers moved amongst the party guests, their graceful bodies flowing to the beat of the music. Red and violet and deep blue silk fluttered with each movement. Gold sparkled from the bangles they wore on their arms and ankles.

  Caleb spotted Corin near the back, talking to one of his advisors. He eased into the room. He had no desire for merry-making this evening. All he wanted to do was report and withdraw.

  As he took another step inside, a dancer moved toward him, swaying to the sound of the music. Blue silk twirled around her body. Thin gold bracelets jingled along her dark, bare arms.

  She stopped before him and gave him a brazen smile. Caleb groaned inside. Usually Ailis’s presence made his heart beat faster, but tonight it felt heavy and tired. She placed her long manicured fingers across his chest and looked up into his eyes. “Where were you tonight?” Her voice was low and smooth.

  Caleb grabbed her hand. “Not tonight, Ailis.”

  Her lips tightened, and she pulled her hand back. Caleb ignored her and continued toward his cousin. Ailis would come back to him—she always did. He just wasn’t interested right now.

  Lord Corin seemed to be in deep discussion. Knowing his cousin would not want to be interrupted, Caleb stopped a few feet away and waited.

  Next to Corin sat a woman Caleb did not recognize. Her dark hair fell to her waist like a cascade of black silk. She wore a scarlet gown with slits up the sides, revealing long, elegant legs. She glanced his direction, looked him up and down, then gave him an inviting smile.

  Caleb turned his eyes away. Whatever belonged to his cousin was off limits to him.

  A moment later, the advisor bowed his head and turned to leave. Caleb moved aside to let the man out, his colorful robes flowing behind him. The woman stood as well, whispering something into Lord Corin’s ear.

  His cousin smiled and watched her walk away, then turned toward Caleb. “Ah, there you are, Caleb.” Corin possessed the dark, handsome features of the Tala men with only a sprinkling of grey near his temples. He was Caleb’s senior by ten years.

  “Corin,” Caleb bowed from the waist.

  “Sit, cousin. The party has only just begun.” Corin grabbed a jeweled goblet from the low table beside him. Caleb sat down stiffly on the other couch and waited for his cousin to begin. Corin glanced around casually. “So how did it go?”

  “Delshad has been taken care of,” Caleb said.

  “No witnesses? Nothing to link his death back to me?”

  “Nothing, my lord.”

  “Good.” Corin took a sip from his goblet.

  “May I go now?”

  Corin placed his goblet back on the table. “Not quite yet. I have another issue to discuss with you.”

  Caleb bit down on his impatience. It would not do to anger his cousin. He had seen servants cut down for a mere slip of the tongue. He eyed the loose fitting black robe Corin wore and wondered what his cousin had hidden in there.

  Corin looked back at Caleb. “It has to do with the war up north. Things are not going…well.”

  Caleb knew this was an understatement. He thought back to when he had—upon Corin’s orders—executed the most recent commander of Temanin’s army.

  “I have selected Arpiar to become the new commander.”

  Caleb nodded. He knew of Arpiar. The man had fought for Temanin for over forty years and was known to be a brilliant strategist. “Sounds like a good choice, but what does this news have to do with me?”

  “I want to make sure nothing stops us from reaching the north this time. I need someone who will guarantee that Arpiar doesn’t get cold feet when the battle turns hot.”

  Caleb tensed. He didn’t like the direction this conversation was going.

  “Who I need…is you,” Corin said.

  “Why?” There was no way Corin was going to drag him into that war of
his.

  “You, my dear cousin, are a man who gets things done, no matter what. That’s why you work for me. Now I need that ambition turned toward getting my troops into the north. All you need to do is stay with Commander Arpiar and make sure he accomplishes that. And if he needs a little…persuasion…you can give him some.”

  “I don’t like it,” Caleb said. “My work is singular. I like to work alone. No one else.”

  Corin’s eyes glittered feverishly. “I don’t care what you like, Caleb. You go where I send you, and you do the work I give you. And if you don’t, I know the Keepers are looking for the suspect in a couple of unsolved murders around here. Wouldn’t want your name dropped, would you?”

  Caleb stared at Corin, his teeth clenched. He wouldn’t… Would he? Would Corin really give up his own cousin to the Azar Keepers?

  Corin laughed and sat back. “But it won’t come to that, will it?” He gave Caleb a dark look.

  “No,” Caleb said through gritted teeth. He was caught. There were only a few people who knew of his covert work, and none of them in the Keepers’ order. The Keepers would see him only as a criminal. And the fact that Corin was now using this against him grated Caleb all the more. It wasn’t like his cousin to force him into a job. Then again, this wasn’t a job he would willingly take.

  “Good. I will send papers with you that will let Arpiar know you are to accompany him and why. You should have no problems.” Corin took up his goblet again.

  “When do I leave?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Caleb’s mood darkened more, but he let none of it show on his face. He stood. “Very well. Do you need anything else?”

  Corin took a slow sip. Caleb knew his cousin was doing this just to test his patience. He clenched his hands and waited.

  “No,” Corin said finally. “That will be all.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

  Caleb bowed then exited out a nearby doorway.