‘It’s not there, his name is not in this book. Why?’ Coinin asked.
‘From what I hear of Lordich, his actions were objectionable to The Brotherhood, so much so that they sentenced him to death. It was a period of great upheaval, and many of The Brotherhood around the world were implicated in a coup attempt. I guess it was such a terrible moment in the history of The Order that they omitted it from their official records.’
Coinin shook his head. ‘No, they wouldn’t omit it. It’s a valuable reminder of the evil that we can all succumb to if we let it. It’s recorded somewhere, and my guess is Laliala will know where. I shall ask her in the morning. I think we need to know how our enemy thinks, and those records are the best bet for knowledge.’
‘What do we do in the meantime?’ Aniol asked.
‘You should visit your mother before it’s too late. I am going to bed. My poor head is still pounding.’
Aniol made to leave and then swung back to face Coinin. ‘Thank you for your understanding,’ she said, bowing before him.
Coinin dipped in return. ‘You’re quite welcome,’ he smiled.
He watched her leave, stretched his back with a crack, and walked to an inconspicuous door behind his desk that opened onto an adjoining room. Inside was plush; velvet drapes hung over the window and surrounded a large four-poster bed made from dark hardwood. A fire warmed the space from a stone fireplace set into the wall. It gave a cheery glow, and dancing shadows flickered around the room. The crack of a log reminded him of home within the small and cramped farmhouse in the Village of Arrom. Winter nights spent curled up under sheepskins in front of the fire while listening to faery tales told by his father and mother. His favourite stories usually involved goblins preying on unsuspecting villagers, and he smiled to himself as he stripped off his clothing, remembering how he used to hide beneath his covering when a scary part of the story came along, and his brother clucking at his father with his usual comment that his stories were pathetically un-scary.
He slipped beneath the fine cotton linen on the bed and lay on his side. Was it his imagination, or was the headache easing? He hoped so. A peaceful sleep was called for. He had a feeling tomorrow would be a busy day.
❖
A noise woke him from his night of blissful sleep. He sat up, bleary-eyed, and a knock sounded at his door. He slipped out of bed and yawned as he went to answer it. He poked his head out, stifling yet another yawn.
‘Yes?’ he asked and wiped the sleep from his eyes.
‘There is a disturbance in the courtyard, Sir. I thought you would want to know,’ a young temple guard replied with a bow.
‘What kind of disturbance?’
‘Your personal guard Aniol and Matron Truelove are causing a ruckus,’ the brightly dressed guard responded.
‘You can’t deal with this yourself, I suppose?’
‘Believe me, I tried, Sir.’
Coinin sighed. ‘Give me a moment.’ He stepped back inside his chambers and slipped on his cloak. It was a chilly night.
In his bare feet, he followed the guard through the long corridors until they reached a balustrade that ran the length of a large open courtyard in the centre of the temple. A tall oak tree was in flower and blossomed yellow against the bright green of its leaves.
Its roots were firmly implanted in the centre of the courtyard around which ran a circular seat. Two guards sat on the wooden seating and looked decidedly fed up with their head in their hands. Coinin could hear Aniol and Eliana Truelove arguing, and yet was unable to see them.
It was only after he leant far enough over the balustrade that he saw them, toe-to-toe and red-faced, in a small alcove beneath him.
He turned to his escort. ‘Which way down?’
‘This way, Sir,’ the guard gestured.
Coinin followed and was soon jogging down a marble staircase that opened out onto the courtyard opposite the alcove. He marched around the tree and stopped three feet in front of the arguing couple. He coughed and placed his hands on his hips. ‘Are we going to continue to entertain the whole temple, or are we willing to behave like adults?’ he fired at the pair.
Aniol and Matron Truelove were too engrossed in their argument and didn’t hear his soft voice, so he resorted to shouting. ‘Ladies, please stop this now!’
As one the pair stopped and turned to face Coinin, who by now was sporting a scowl.
‘Now, that is better. Would one of you mind telling me please what this is all about?’
That was a bad mistake, and he knew it the moment he said it. Immediately they both tried to explain and then fell into blaming each other, and the argument resumed until Coinin was forced to step in between them and separate them. He dragged Aniol aside and placed her in the custody of her fellow guards. ‘Make sure she stays put,’ he ordered and received a curt nod from his men.
He returned to the alcove and took Eliana out of earshot for an explanation. ‘Walk with me, Eliana, we have much to discuss.’
‘Please forgive me, Curator, it was never my intention to—’
‘I am not here to apportion blame. I am here to ensure that this temple remains a harmonious and peaceful Sanctuary. My first week as Curator and I’m already sorting out squabbles that my men should have no trouble attending to.’
‘Again, Curator, I am sorry for the trouble,’ Eliana responded, her tone of voice chastened.
‘I don’t need apologies. If you wish to leave then leave, but do so quickly. Dark forces are moving to destroy this Sanctuary, and in comparison, the rift with your daughter is insignificant.’ Coinin heard the words and did not quite believe it was he who had spoken them. Yet he must have. Perhaps the combined knowledge of Curators before him was maturing him in more ways than he had imagined.
He had noticed it more and more over the past few days, subtle changes in his personality, as if he was becoming a whole new person with a new set of ideals, goals and ambitions. He pondered on questions about the life he had never considered before the Ritual of The Wulf and attributed it to multiple personalities combining to become a new improved version of himself. At least he hoped that was what was happening, he did not like the idea of hundreds of individuals vying to become dominant in his brain.
He felt the same; the same Coinin, the same frightened boy inside, though a new wisdom and understanding of things impressed themselves upon him as each day passed. Alongside all of the other changes, he felt more confident in his new role and, despite his fears, was determined as ever to seek justice for the innocent lives destroyed by the menace Lordich.
‘Please step into my study, we can talk privately there,’ Coinin said on arrival at his suite of rooms.
Eliana gave Coinin a sour look but complied and entered his sparse room. He crossed to his desk and sat on the edge facing Eliana, whom he invited to sit in one of the guest chairs. He steepled his forefingers together, which he then brought up to his lips, and looked at the matron curiously, attempting to understand her desire to leave her daughter. From what Aniol had told him about her mother she seemed decent and hard-working, only her mother had caused a temple accident and floated away in the remains of the infirmary to questionably come to the aid of sky pirates. The question was, what hold did these pirates have over her that she should not want to return?
Coinin lowered his hands. ‘I understand your desire to leave, I too initially didn’t want to become Curator. It’s a scary thing. I can’t fathom why you would want to leave Aniol to return to those pirates.’
Eliana looked at him, her gaze shifting uneasily. ‘I love my daughter with all of my heart, and I do not take kindly to your assumption that I make the decision to leave her behind lightly.’
‘You love her so much yet you fail to use her name,’ Coinin observed.
Eliana stood and angrily pointed a finger at Coinin. ‘How dare you?’
‘I dare because I have no wish to see Aniol hurt. If you are leaving then leave. I do, however, have just one request. Should the time
arise that this temple needs the assistance of the sky pirates, I ask that you do all in your power to persuade them to come to our aid.’
‘Why would I do this for a man who insults me so?’ Eliana asked.
Coinin considered her response. ‘In return, I will take care of Aniol and ensure she wants for nothing.’
Eliana seemed to consider his offer, albeit briefly. ‘Very well, I leave her in your charge, and will do as you ask.’
‘That is sad news indeed. Before you go, may I know what it is that keeps you under the Pirates’ spell?’ Coinin asked.
Eliana pursed her lips and blinked in silence for a moment, studying the unwavering stare from the Curator. ‘This may never be repeated to anyone, understood?’
Coinin nodded, surprised she had agreed to tell him; they had not exactly hit it off. He knew of course that he could never withhold anything of importance from Menin and felt a little guilty for indicating he would keep it to himself, but he had a burning desire for knowledge, good or bad.
‘Aniol is not my daughter. I merely cared for her in place of her real mother who couldn’t cope with the thought of the child,’ said Eliana quietly.
‘Then who is her mother?’
‘She is the daughter of Eraywen,’ Eliana confessed.
Coinin thought carefully for a moment. ‘Oh, you mean General Jericho’s wife?’
‘Yes, although she is not his daughter.’ Eliana breathed out hard as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders.
‘Who is the father?’ Coinin probed.
‘He is a pirate and a most feared one at that. He and his men plundered Eraywen’s village. She among others had her innocence taken by force. The pirate forced himself on her. Jericho was newly married and had not consummated the marriage. He was called to fight the Giants immediately after the wedding. It would have broken his heart to learn of this. So we hid her pregnancy, and I took care of the child, bringing her up as my own.’ Eliana was almost in tears.
‘Why do you then help the pirates?’ Coinin asked.
‘When the infirmary accident occurred, I saw this as an opportunity to find the pirate and kill him. I have laboured for many years under the guise of assisting the pirates in order to find that one man and exact justice,’ Eliana replied solemnly.
‘You are a peace-loving woman, why would you do this?’
‘If I do not, and Jericho were to hear of it, he would tear this world apart looking for this pirate, and that I cannot live with. It is better that I complete my task and ensure that word of this never reaches his ears,’ Eliana replied.
‘You believe this man would brag of this? I cannot believe this man’s actions would reach the ears of the general. How many villages must this pirate have plundered over the years, that he would remember that particular village, that individual woman, and indeed know her by name, or want to declare his actions to her husband many years down the line? No, I believe this is pure revenge, nothing more,’ Coinin announced.
‘It is my choice to do this, and I will ensure that the remotest chance that my brother will learn of this is extinguished. Now, Sir, I have had quite enough of your questions. I wish to leave,’ Eliana replied firmly.
Coinin stood and indicated with an outstretched arm the balcony in which she could leave. ‘You do realise of course, that your actions might hurt your brother as much as finding out that his niece is not his niece after all? Besides, he did not tear the world apart when they killed Eraywen. You use him to—’
Eliana rounded on Coinin, a fire in her eyes. ‘Enough! I have made my mind up. I will speak no more of this.’
Coinin shook his head and spoke with regret and a heavy heart. ‘Your decision saddens me greatly. You pursue this man out of revenge and hatred, which goes against everything that The Brotherhood stands for. It, therefore, falls to me to hereby banish you from the temple. You may never return here. Do you understand?’
Eliana stopped and turned to Coinin. He saw a momentary flash of sadness in her eyes that replaced the coldness. ‘Then so be it,’ she choked, and turned with a flourish of her cloak and vanished into the night.
Coinin sat at his desk mulling over the new information he had learnt and felt terribly sad for Aniol. A wrenching sound and then a loud crack disturbed his peace. This was followed by the unmistakable sound of a tree falling. He jumped up from his chair and flinched at the pain coming from his back as he rushed to the balcony that led off his study. Arriving quickly, he saw to his dismay that the tree had given way and had fallen into Master Ignatius’s vineyard destroying a fair-sized portion of it.
The floating infirmary was quickly making its escape, trailing tattered rope from its windows. Coinin cringed as it missed crashing into a temple tower by a hair’s breadth. He breathed a sigh of relief as it disappeared and turned to head back into his chambers. Aniol was standing in the doorway leading to his study, her face tearful at the realisation that her mother had left her again.
Coinin approached and patted her arm. ‘I’m sorry, her heart leads elsewhere.’
He stepped into his study leaving Aniol alone. The guilt at his earlier confrontation nagged at him.
❖
The next morning Aniol was there as usual, yet bleary-eyed. Coinin assumed she had not slept and pitied her. He had to think what would have been worse; finding out her mother was not her mother at all, or her leaving in the dead of night.
Coinin felt pained as he saw her. He would have to tell her that her mother was banished from the temple and realised he would find it difficult to explain why. He cursed that he had not delved deeper and come up with a reasonable excuse for her surrogate mother’s sudden departure.
‘I have need to see the Archmage this morning. I will understand if you wish to excuse yourself today,’ said Coinin, hoping to delay the inevitable.
‘It is fine, I need to keep busy,’ said Aniol with a brave face.
Coinin nodded and felt sick, the nerves growing with every passing moment.
‘Are you all right? You don’t look yourself,’ Aniol said.
Coinin managed a smile, yet his eyes didn’t twinkle with him. ‘My scars are hurting, that’s all,’ he lied, and then immediately regretted it; it was not appropriate for a man in his position to be untruthful.
He trotted down the main staircase and from memory made his way through the temple till he found the Great Hall. The hall was already looking much improved in appearance even from the last time he had seen it. A carpenter was busily repairing furniture to one side of the hall, and there was a clear path to the Archmage’s Office.
He strode across the wooden floor, his boots tapping away on its surface, and saluted at the guard stationed outside Menin’s room. The guard, whom he remembered was called Zaruun, greeted in return and opened the door for him.
He stepped inside, and the door closed quickly behind him. He turned back to it, confused. Where was Aniol? Was she not supposed to be here with him at all times?
‘It is customary for the guard to remain outside of my chambers unless asked inside,’ said Menin behind him. ‘I assume that’s why you look puzzled?’
Coinin turned his head to greet Menin. ‘Yes, I was expecting her to accompany me. I think we may see her in your study before too long anyway.’
‘How so?’ Menin asked, curious.
‘I am afraid there is bad news,’ Coinin replied. ‘Perhaps if we retire to your study for fear of eavesdropping.’
‘So serious, Coinin? Very well, follow me,’ she said and led him into an antechamber that she had decorated to her liking. Every wall was crammed with portraits in varying sizes of former Archmages. Incense burnt in the corner of the room and made Coinin’s eyes sting. A finely woven rug filled two-thirds of the chamber, and over this sat a large eagle wood desk, decorated along its edges with intricate carvings.
A writing desk against one wall overflowed with parchment and quills, and several chairs dotted the room.
‘You know, Coinin, I do
miss my balcony, but such is the price one pays for security.’ Menin sighed. ‘We are in the heart of the temple and the most defensible section. No balcony for me.’
‘I’m sorry, milady, that the chambers are not to your liking.’
‘If only for a window that I may look upon the sky,’ Menin mused. ‘However, you are not here to discuss my problems, but yours.’
Coinin had sat upon an upholstered chair opposite the Archmage’s desk, his bottom lip creased between finger and thumb in contemplation.
‘You mentioned bad news?’
Coinin looked up distractedly. ‘Yes, indeed, I just don’t know how to begin.’
‘At the beginning is a good place,’ said Menin with a gleam in her eye.
‘I have banished Eliana Truelove from the temple. She is a disruptive influence and brings danger to this Sanctuary.’
Menin appeared unmoved, though he saw it there in her eyes, the same pain he had witnessed in Eliana’s, and this wrenched his stomach.
‘I take it you have good cause, Curator?’
Coinin told of the events that had unfolded in the courtyard and his study, and all the while Menin sat stone-faced and refrained from interrupting him.
‘So you see, how can I explain to Aniol the reason for Eliana’s disappearance without causing her more pain?’
‘It is a dilemma for certain. As much as it pains me to hear of Eliana’s banishment, you did what was necessary to protect the temple. It is clear that you are becoming familiar with your duties as Curator. However, I do think we should discuss any future banishments before they happen.’
Coinin considered himself to be chastised. ‘I agree. The burden is not one a single person should bear alone. Tell me, what should I say to Aniol?’
The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection Page 29