by Callie Kanno
“I think we should dismount,” suggested Captain Cowan. “It seems we will move faster if we are leading our horses.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, following his advice. Idris patted his mare’s neck as he moved the reins over her head. He checked to make sure his partisan was secured to his back, once again regretting the loss of the leather cover for the jeweled head.
Perhaps you could buy a replacement here, Iona offered.
Idris shook his head. Cowan says we will not be stopping anywhere. Also, I do not have any coin with me.
Well, if there is no solution, then there is no point in worrying, she said lightly.
Idris snorted. You know very well that is not true. Ignoring a problem does not make it go away.
I said there was no point to worrying, Iona expounded, not that the problem would not exist.
Idris shook his head, the corners of his mouth curving into a slight smile. If only letting go of worries was as simple as that.
It was much easier for Idris to move through the crowds while leading his horse, but it made it difficult for him to keep an eye on the rest of his companions. He instinctively moved closer to Lenora, taking her arm to keep them from being separated.
A delicate blush colored her ivory cheeks at his touch. “You know,” she said softly, “in Breen such contact between two people is reserved for those who are betrothed.”
Idris’s eyes widened and he immediately let go of her arm. “I am sorry,” he stammered, his face aflame. “I did not mean…that is…I was not attempting…”
Lenora laughed lightly. “I do not mind, Idris. Perhaps I should, but I do not.”
Idris could feel the heat from his face moving into his ears and down his neck. “I…what do you mean?”
She took a step closer to him so that their arms brushed against each other as they walked. She ducked her head, speaking in a murmur. “I mean that I do not mind being close to you.”
Idris’s heart thumped so loudly in his chest that he was certain it was audible to anyone standing near him. He was vaguely aware of the foolish grin that spread across his face, but in that moment he didn’t care.
He was searching his mind for what to say next, when the flow of the crowded street came to a stop. Idris raised himself to stand on his toes, looking over the heads of those nearest to him to see why people were no longer moving.
Not far ahead of them there appeared to be a small group of men whose argument had turned to blows. Idris and Lenora tried to edge closer, but it was difficult with so many spectators. Unlike Koyo, street fights were not forbidden in this city. Many people seemed entertained by the prospect of watching the outcome.
“What is happening?” Lenora asked Idris, who had a better view than her.
Idris frowned as he peered through the gaps available to him. “Four men are fighting,” he told her. “One of them has been pushed to the ground, and now two of the others are grappling.”
Lenora pressed her lips together. “What is the source of the conflict?”
Idris shrugged. “I do not know.”
The crowd suddenly surged backward as the fight moved toward where Idris was standing. With fewer people in his way, Idris was able to see the fight more clearly. The two grappling men were red in the face, shouting angry words at each other. The other two men involved hurried forward to try and break up the scuffle.
Lenora gasped, gripping Idris’s forearm. He instinctively turned to protect her, raising his arm to shield her from the bodies pressing around them. As he did so, his glance turned to her face, trying to assess what had caused her alarm. Lenora’s eyes were fixed on one of the men in the fight, so Idris turned to look as well.
The man she appeared to be staring at looked to be only a few years older than Idris. He was quite handsome, with straight features and a strong but slender build. His hair was dark red, tied back away from his face, and his eyes were startlingly familiar.
They were exactly like Lenora’s eyes.
“Neron,” Lenora whispered in a strangled voice.
Idris leaned closer to her. “What?”
The princess pushed past Idris as if he wasn’t there. She struggled to get closer to the group of fighting men. “Neron,” she called desperately. “Neron!”
The red-haired young man looked up, clearly startled. His eyes fixed on Lenora, and the color drained from his face. He grabbed the man he was with—the one in the middle of the fight—speaking a few forceful words into his ear.
Then, without warning, the fight between the two men ceased. All four members of the conflict disappeared into the crowd. A few of the spectators murmured in disappointment, but then the flow of traffic resumed as before.
“Neron,” Lenora screamed, pushing toward where the man had been last seen.
Idris hurried after her, bringing both horses with him. “Lenora,” he said in a worried voice, “what is wrong?”
After several moments of uselessly searching the masses of people, Lenora slowly turned back. Her face was streaked with unchecked tears. “Neron,” she sobbed, crumbling to her knees.
Idris rushed to her side. “What is wrong?” he asked again. “Who was that man?”
“My brother,” she cried into her hands. “He is my brother.”
“Your brother?” Idris repeated dumbly.
Lenora reached out to grasp the front of Idris’s tunic. “We have to find him,” she insisted. “I have to speak to him.”
“But, they are gone,” Idris stammered. “All of those men have left.”
Lenora buried her face against Idris’s chest. “We have to find him.”
He knelt with his arms around her, uncertain what to do next. Part of his mind told him that it wasn’t proper for him to be holding her, but he didn’t know what else he could do to comfort her. At the same time, he couldn’t help noticing how perfectly she fit in his embrace. Then he silently chided himself for such thoughts.
“Idris!”
Captain Cowan’s voice carried over the crowd. The tone of his call immediately caused Idris to scan the area for danger. The young soldier stood to let his captain know where he was.
Cowan spotted him, looking relieved. He gestured to a side street where the masses of people were less dense. Idris nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to help Lenora to her feet. “The others are waiting for us,” he told her gently.
“I have not seen Neron for five years,” she said, almost to herself. “I thought he was dead.”
“We will find him,” Idris assured her, even though he doubted his own words.
He gathered the reins of their horses, then softly led Lenora over to the side street where Cowan and the others were waiting for them. Hildar was pacing the alley, breathing hard and pulling at her chestnut hair. Aherin was searching through saddlebags, while Kurag spoke quietly to the distraught Hildar.
“I am glad to see that you have your partisan,” Cowan said to Idris. “You need to check your belongings to make sure nothing is missing.”
Idris furrowed his brow. “Of course I have my partisan,” he said. “I always keep it with me.”
“What happened?” Lenora asked, sounding weary.
Cowan’s expression was grim. “It appears that the fight on the street was meant to be a distraction.”
A feeling of dread weighed down Idris’s chest. “A distraction for what?”
“Savion is gone,” Hildar burst out. “Someone stole it.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Shadowed Pain
“What?” Idris gasped. “How is that possible?”
“What is there to explain?” Hildar raged. “I was distracted by that stupid street brawl, and someone slipped Savion out of his sheath.”
“I mean,” Idris went on, “how is it possible to separate a weapon of power from its master? Why did Savion not warn her? Can Hildar simply summon her dagger back?”
Cowan rubbed his scarred chin. “It appears that the bond between Hildar and her weapon is weaker than it sh
ould be. Savion should have warned her.”
“It is obvious why he did not,” Hildar’s voice cracked like a whip. “He wanted to be taken.”
Aherin looked up from his task of searching through the saddlebags. “What do you mean?”
Hildar gestured wildly, her tone of voice rising. “He knew we were planning on having him reforged. Every time he spoke to me he tried to convince me to change my mind. He would not warn me of someone trying to steal him, because to him it was the best way to escape what he considers to be death.”
Kurag shook his head. “The dagger cannot influence the actions of a passerby like that.”
“But he could just let it happen,” Hildar shot back. “And he did.”
“What do we do now?” Idris asked their captain.
“We will track the weapon down,” Cowan answered grimly. “We have two means of accomplishing that, although I would prefer one over the other.”
Hildar abruptly stopped pacing at the captain’s words. A flicker of hope passed over her tormented face. “What is the first one?”
Cowan crossed his arms against his chest. “The first is to find information about the thieves.”
Aherin’s eyes narrowed. “But we did not see who it was that took the dagger.”
“True,” agreed Cowan, “but I got a good look at the four men involved in the street fight. I am certain they were all working together.”
“What makes you say that?” Lenora asked, breaking her introspective silence.
“The fight began and ended far too quickly to be natural,” Cowan explained. “There were no city guards approaching to break up the brawl, so why did both parties suddenly run?”
Idris looked at Lenora. The princess didn’t offer any information, so he decided to refrain as well. “Perhaps one of them spotted trouble,” he said instead.
Cowan pressed his lips together. “That does not explain why all four men acted at the same time. There was no continuation of the argument, no further struggle to break up the fight. They simply stopped and fled the scene, as if responding to a prearranged signal.”
Idris could feel his stomach sinking with the implication. He studied Lenora’s face, but the princess’s expression was tightly controlled. The only indication of emotion was a slight tremor of her lips, but even that was quickly corrected.
“How does this knowledge help us?” Kurag asked quietly.
“I will find out if the thieves live in the city or if they are simply opportunists,” Cowan said. “If they have a base of operation close by, I will pay them a visit.”
“What will the rest of us be doing while you investigate?” asked Hildar with a challenging tone.
The captain of the Royal Guard turned his steady gaze on her. “You will wait for me on the other side of the city, just outside the gates.”
Idris could see Hildar’s fists tighten and her expression harden, but before she could speak, Cowan cut her off with a gesture. “Any time spent arguing is time wasted. A single person is more likely to be given information than a group, and I can move more quickly on my own.”
Hildar’s mouth snapped shut, but her eyes still flashed with indignation. Kurag placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What is the second method of finding the dagger you mentioned, Captain Cowan?”
The old soldier eyed Hildar before answering, “I would rather wait to see what we can find by asking around before employing the other option.”
“What is it?” demanded Hildar.
Cowan sighed quietly, but he answered her question. “You can open yourself to the mental connection between you and your weapon, making it easier to sense the dagger’s location. However, it will also make you vulnerable to Savion’s influence.”
Hildar shuddered, but made no objections. “We cannot turn back now,” she stated simply.
Cowan took his bo staff in hand—which was wrapped in cloth to hide its jewels and gold—and tied the group’s coin purse to his belt. “Move quickly,” he instructed them. “Do not stop for any reason. Keep a close watch for any other thieves that may target you.”
Without any other words of parting, Cowan turned to join the throng on the main street. Aherin and Idris exchanged uncertain glances. None of the remaining Royal Guards had seniority over one another, so there was no clear leader of their group.
Hildar, of course, had no such hesitation. “What are you waiting for?” she snapped. “I will clear a path, Aherin you follow behind the group. The rest of you take care of the horses.”
Idris took Aherin’s horse, while Kurag took the reins for Cowan and Hildar’s. The group left the shelter of the side street, joining the bustling crowds. Idris walked next to Lenora, watching her expression closely.
“I am certain your brother has nothing to do with the theft,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
Lenora gave him a wan smile. “It is kind of you to say, but not even I know what Neron is capable of doing anymore.”
“Surely he cannot have changed that much since you last saw him,” Idris comforted her.
The princess sighed, smoothing back her vibrant red hair from her face. “I was twelve years old when Neron left home. Perhaps my memories of him are idealized because of how much I looked up to him.”
“You would not have looked up to him if he had been a bad person,” Idris reasoned. “If he was a good man then, it is safe to assume he is a good man now.”
Lenora’s eyes drifted downward, looking troubled. “Maybe.”
Idris rubbed the palms of his hands against the leather of the reins he was holding. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?” he ventured.
For several moments it seemed that Lenora wasn’t going to answer, but she finally took a deep breath to speak. “Neron is three years older than me. We have no other siblings, so we were very close when we were young. I was a timid child, and Neron was my protector. He lent me courage.”
Idris smiled as he thought of his own siblings. He came from a large family, but he had special relationships with each of his brothers and sisters. He could easily relate to this portion of Lenora’s history.
“My mother and my brother did not get along,” Lenora continued slowly. “She had a strong hand in all her dealings with me, and Neron felt she should be gentler. My mother was never cruel,” she added hastily, “but she could be, at times, unsympathetic.”
“I see,” Idris murmured.
“It was rarely a problem when we were still in the care of our nursemaid,” Lenora explained, “but when I was ten years old my mother said it was time for her to take my training into her own hands.”
Idris pressed his lips together. “I assume Neron did not take that well.”
Lenora smiled humorlessly. “No, he did not.”
“How did your father feel about all of this?” asked Idris.
She shrugged. “He felt it was not his place to interfere. I was not being mistreated, so he told Neron that my mother’s methods were up to her.”
“What did your mother say?”
“She said that Neron spoiled me, and that I would never gain the strength I needed if I was not pushed,” Lenora said simply. “She was right, of course, but it was a point of discord in our family.”
Idris nodded thoughtfully. “That must have been difficult for you,” he said sympathetically.
“It would have been fine, if that had been the only problem,” Lenora went on. “But from that initial disagreement stemmed many other conflicts. What started out as brotherly concern for me gradually turned into anger over what Neron called negligence. He said my father and grandfather allowed terrible things to happen in Breen. He said that his training had revealed to him many injustices, but that the monarchy turned a blind eye to what needed to be done. Finally, just after Neron’s fifteenth birthday, he left home. We did not know where he went or what he was doing. We did not even know if he was alive.”
Idris could hear the pain in Lenora’s voice. He started to reach out
a comforting hand, but he was suddenly very concerned about Breenite propriety. Was it proper for him to touch her shoulder? He didn’t know. The last thing he needed was to embarrass himself again. Idris let his hand drop back to his side. “Well, at least you now know he is not dead,” he said lamely.
“Yes,” Lenora agreed, but she didn’t appear comforted by the fact.
After a moment of thought, Idris spoke again. “There was a boy that I grew up with who was shy and often left out. He lived next to a family with a son close to his own age, and he wanted so much to be friends with that other boy. The neighbor boy talked him into doing a series of harmful things, some of which were downright dangerous. He did them because he wanted to belong.”
A small smile played at the corners of Lenora’s mouth. “Is that so?”
Idris nodded eagerly, speaking even faster. “I know your brother is not some farmboy, but everyone wants to feel like they have a place. Maybe the thieves have taken advantage of him. Maybe he just does not know how to get free of their influence.”
“I hope you are right,” Lenora said, sounding wistful.
A thoughtful silence fell between them for the remainder of their walk across the city. Idris kept glancing at Lenora’s face, trying to gauge how she was feeling. She looked rather sad, but he couldn’t tell if that was because she missed her brother or if it was something more troubling.
I do not suppose you have any advice to give, Idris thought to Iona.
Oh, I have plenty of advice that you would benefit from hearing, Iona countered.
Idris almost rolled his eyes. I mean in helping Lenora.
Tell her that humans always act foolishly, and that with any luck his decisions will lead him to an early demise. Thus, her family’s discomfort at her brother’s poor choices will not last long.
I cannot say that to her, Idris thought in outrage.
He could hear Iona chuckling in his mind. I suppose it would not endear you to your lady-fair. How long do you intend to pursue this infatuation? Iona asked, sounding uneasy.
Idris’s eyebrows shot upward. What do you mean?