Coinin frowned. ‘And who is this person?’
‘Not here, Curator. Alone, if I may.’
‘Very well.’ Coinin turned to the others. ‘Give me a moment everyone, I seem to have a visitor. After you, Aniol.’
Aniol led him from the room and closed the door.
Coinin stopped on the far side of the door. ‘My heart broke when I heard the news.’
Aniol nodded. ‘Mine would have also if it were you.’
Coinin could not resist another hug and whispered into her ear. ‘Don’t leave me again.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’
Coinin released her and coughed apologetically. ‘So, where is this person you’re eager for me to see?’
‘Before you meet him, I need you to trust me and to give him a fair hearing.’
‘This is highly unusual, Aniol.’
Aniol looked at him with a steely eye. ‘Promise me.’
The curator rolled his eyes and nodded. ‘Fine. I promise.’
‘Good, follow me.’ Aniol descended the stairwell quickly, followed by Coinin, who was muttering to himself. She could tell he was annoyed, but perhaps not as much as he was likely to be in just a moment.
At the base of the stairs she turned to face her charge. ‘Curator, I want you to understand that this man saved me from certain death. He has much to say, and I beg you listen to him without prejudice. I will leave you two be. I really must find Axl, he must be so worried.’
Coinin nearly cursed. He had neglected to inform Axl that Aniol was presumed dead. He knew as soon as she found out that he would regret that faux pas. Come to think of it, why hasn’t Axl enquired after her? he thought. He turned to face her. ‘You wish to leave me now? Who is this man?’
‘Your uncle.’ Aniol quickly exited the main entrance, leaving Coinin seemingly alone.
Draken, here? Coinin scowled at Aniol leaving so abruptly and the thought of his uncle in his presence. What could he possibly want? More lies, no doubt. ‘Draken, are you here?’
From a darkened corner of the hallway, his uncle stepped forward and stopped several feet away. ‘I am here, nephew.’
‘What lies do you wish to weave today?’
‘I come only to deliver the truth, however much it hurts.’
‘Hurts who?’
‘Both of us. What I have to say is no good thing, but I must say it if ever I am to be truly repentant.’
‘What are you saying, Draken?’
The old man wiped his lips with a finger and then dried sweaty hands upon his cloak.
‘Spit it out,’ Coinin insisted.
Draken inched forward another step to allow what little light there was to fall upon his face. He looked drained and tired. ‘Will you walk with me? I’d rather I speak with you first.’
‘And Marrok?’ Coinin asked civilly.
‘All in good time. I swear, I will tell him what I am about to say.’
Both parties, unwilling to show any affection or real desire to be near one another, walked slowly from the palace grounds and wandered aimlessly through the cavern.
Draken wrung his hands and coughed nervously. ‘What I have to say will hurt and even shock you. But I want you to know one thing. Despite all that I have done, it was done outside of the love of Rindor. The last few days I have become once again acquainted with Lord Rindor, and his grace is guiding me to confess to you my sins, so that I may be truly repentant.’
‘So, you are telling me, since I last saw you, that you are now at one with Rindor?’
‘Yes, that is exactly what I am saying.’
Coinin glanced at his uncle suspiciously, trying to quell his disbelief. ‘What is it you wish to say?’
‘Know that even though I may never have shown it, I love you deeply, and only recent events have revealed this to me.’
‘Get on with it, Draken. You know how I hate riddles.’
The aged man took a deep breath and blurted it out. ‘I am responsible for the deaths of your parents.’
Coinin half laughed, unconvinced. ‘What joke is this, Draken?’ Then he saw it there, in the old man’s eyes, the truth, as plain as day. He began to hyperventilate and pushed Draken away, who tried to calm him. ‘No, no, no! You stay away from me, this is impossible, it can’t be true. Not you, please, no.’ He backed away from his uncle as if before him was a snake.
Tears dripped from the end of his nose, and with the shortness of breath he fell to his knees upon the hard ground.
Draken dropped to Coinin’s side, and despite protestations, he held his nephew in a vice-like grip. He brought his mouth to Coinin’s ear. ‘It is all true. I am so sorry. Please let me explain. You need to know the truth.’
Coinin attempted to break free, but Draken held ever tighter.
‘Please, permit me to explain, to confess, I beg you.’
Looking his uncle in the eyes, Coinin saw tears, genuine tears streaming down the wrinkled face. For the first time there was real emotion being expressed by the old man, other than that of anger or disdain. That above all else permitted him to see reason and acquiesce to Draken’s request. ‘Then tell your tale,’ he wheezed, finding it difficult to control his voice.
Draken let go of his nephew and crawled a few feet away. There he sat and wiped his eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, Coinin, for what I’ve done.’
Coinin looked at him with disgust. ‘You keep saying sorry, but I’d prefer you say something with merit,’ he spat.
Draken nodded. ‘I owe you that much. My actions are unforgivable since it was I who ordered my brother’s death. Your mother was never meant to die.’
Coinin looked at him, shocked at the matter of fact way in which Draken had revealed the truth.
Inside, however, Draken was burning with guilt and hatred for himself. The only way he could continue was to control his emotions as much as possible.
‘There is more to the tale. My reasons, for example.’
For the next several minutes, Draken told his tale of jealousy, that had led to the tragic events within Arrom Village, and the night he had ridden for hours to find both Ædelmær and Godwen dead. He told of how he had been haunted by the memory every day since, but could not bring himself to confess, believing that he was beyond redemption.
‘I have one final thing to say, and then I lay my life at your mercy.’
Coinin had not once looked at Draken during the tale. Instead, he silently grieved for the man, oddly, any feeling of malevolence gone when he learned of his uncle’s intense loneliness and self-hatred. He pitied the man.
‘Say what you have to say.’
Draken reached around his back and drew his leather satchel to him. He tossed it to his nephew and sat silent.
Coinin studied the satchel curiously and with some suspicion. He looked at his uncle for the first time since the tale had begun. ‘What is this?’
‘Please accept this as the last of my confessions and a way to seek forgiveness.’
Coinin reached down and undid the leather thongs holding the satchel closed. He peered inside and amongst a spare shirt, a wrapped parcel of food, a water bladder, several pieces of a broken smoking pipe, and other sundries, he spotted two swords. His heart leapt as he saw the hilt of the first. He quickly withdrew it and held it aloft. ‘You possess a Cerathil sword?’ As soon as he had said the words he knew the truth. ‘You stole it from Trenobin, didn’t you?’
Draken nodded simply. ‘I did.’
‘Why would you do such a thing?’
Considering his response, Draken frowned. ‘Lordich has never really believed, nor will he ever believe in the return of Rindor and the unification of the swords. He just wanted them to stop The Brotherhood from obtaining them. I was ordered to steal as many as I could find. Now I see my folly and the error of my ways, the only sensible course was to hand them to you.’
Coinin cocked his head and looked once again inside the bag. ‘Them?’
‘I not only stole the sword of Cerathil. Inserted
into the hilt of the second sword, you will find the Rose of Cerathil.’
‘What? You took the rose from the archmage? She believed it destroyed when the temple was attacked.’ Coinin shook his head disbelievingly. ‘Is this all, Draken?’
Draken could not bring himself to confess to the murder of Trenobin, he had already done so to Meone, and besides, it wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things, so he remained quiet. ‘That is all. I am sorry that I have caused so much sorrow for you and Marrok. I seek forgiveness, and now that you know the truth, I suppose you must decide my fate.’
‘I don’t know what you expected the outcome of all this to be, but I need time.’
‘And Marrok?’
‘Must never know. That much is clear. I need him focussed. If he were to find out you would surely be dead and to watch another member of my family die, no matter who they are, would be too much to bear.’
Draken welled up again and sniffed. ‘That means more to me than life itself.’
‘Well, I suggest if you want to stay alive, keep away from Marrok and The Brotherhood. I will find you later. I wish to discuss all you know of Lordich. Answer me honestly, and maybe then we can discuss your future. Now, leave me.’
Draken painfully stood to leave.
‘Wait!’ Coinin called.
Draken stopped and turned around, hopeful.
Coinin had delved into the satchel once more and had withdrawn a curious object. He held a glass globe aloft. ‘What is this trinket?’
‘That is a device for communication across vast distances. Lordich will use it to commune with me.’
The curator’s heart leapt. ‘Then, perhaps we could use it to locate him.’
Draken hung his head and shook it. ‘Sadly, not. Before coming to you, I used my knowledge of the dark arts to tease out a way of tracking Lordich, all to no avail. Lordich’s knowledge is far greater. It is, I am afraid, a one-way communing device.’
Coinin roared in anger and threw the globe as hard as he could. It impacted with a nearby brick wall and shattered into pieces, releasing a gaseous blue cloud that drifted lazily upwards. Immediately, he regretted his action. Menin may well have had more success using the device.
Coinin watched Draken wander away like a lost lamb. Alone, he sobbed quietly. He could not take much more of this. So much wrong had happened in his short life, and now this. He needed time to figure things out, to understand what it was that Rindor wanted him to do.
He had grown up first loving his uncle, then despising him, admiring him briefly and then despising him again. This revelation was something new. Deeper than any of that. He had just confessed to what amounted to murder.
Admittedly, he harboured no malice towards the old man, but could he forgive him? That was an entirely new concept. He needed to clear his mind, to focus on something else, and the only thing available right now was organising the evacuation of the Underworlders.
He stood and brushed off the dirt from his clothes, wiped his tear-stained face and picked up the satchel, where he deposited the Sword of Cerathil.
The next question was how to explain how he had come by one of the missing swords.
RODINE BOUND
Crammed into the galleon, dozens of former dwellers of Underworld were violently ill over the sides of the ship, unused to the swell of the lake.
They had been forced to cover their pale skin for fear of sunburn and so most remained below. There were some stalwarts, however, who would not have missed the journey across the lake for anything.
‘It’s even more beautiful than I remember,’ one aged woman cooed to Coinin.
Coinin looked out at the City of Rodine, with its smokestacks belching thick black plumes across the sky and “beautiful” was the word furthest from his mind, but he smiled anyway and nodded politely.
‘Tell me, young man. Why did you do this for us?’
Coinin screwed his eyes against the harsh sun and chuckled. ‘My, word travels fast.’
‘The king could not help himself. He is overjoyed that you saved us. This morning while you all slept, he held a council. We all gathered, and he told us what a beautiful thing you did for us. So, again, young man. Why?’
Coinin considered his response carefully. He rolled his boot over a section of rope running parallel to the decking. ‘I’d like to give you a grand speech about The Brotherhood of The Wulf doing all it can to help people in need, but in this instance, it was for pure selfishness.’
The old woman batted her yellow-flecked eyes once and said nothing.
Coinin felt slightly uncomfortable. ‘The fact is, we believe the God, Rindor is due to return, and if we don’t fulfil a prophecy in that time, he will destroy all life on Er’ath. There is one who has set his heart on preventing our quest. He is our enemy, and we need to find him and put a stop to him before it’s too late. Prince Riley knows the whereabouts of this man, Lordich. We help him; he helps us. That was the deal.’
The woman patted his arm and smiled. ‘Whatever reasons you think you have for doing this, somebody or something brought you to us, and because of that fate, destiny, or whatever, you have saved a lot of grateful people today. They will be forever in your debt.’
Coinin blushed and gave the old lady a hug, which quite surprised her. He leant in close and whispered, ‘I don’t get to do that often. I lost my mother at an early age and I have no grandparents that I know of.’
The old woman welled up and hugged back with great gusto. ‘Then you are welcome to a hug at any time, my dear.’
The little scene was rudely interrupted with a holler from Major Quindil. ‘Curator Wulf, if you will.’
‘No rest for the wicked.’ the curator smiled and released his grip. ‘Till we meet again.’
The elder wiped her eyes and waved him away. ‘Silly boy, upsetting an old lady like that,’ she muttered, with a smile to herself.
‘What is it Major?’ Coinin enquired as he climbed the steps to the bridge alongside the officer.
‘Nothing urgent,’ the short, squat, one-armed Brotherhood officer announced. ‘It’s just that we are about to dock and I wondered how you wish to proceed.’
‘I’d probably start by promoting Captain Dalia to admiral. The Brotherhood is better with her sailing skills. Though, in all seriousness, we should remain aboard and offshore, while we send an envoy to greet the Regent, the Lord Chamberlain.’
‘Very well, Curator. I shall choose a compliment of men and make way to the palace.’
Quindil parted company and disappeared down the bridge steps, only to stop briefly to salute Prince Riley.
‘Curator, a word, if I may?’ The prince waved as he ascended the steps.
‘By all means, your Highness.’
‘Please, there will be plenty of opportunity for titles in the coming days.’ Riley wrapped an arm around the curator in a friendly embrace and slowly walked with him to the afterdeck. There he swung his arm wide out across the lake. ‘All you see before you, the city, the lake, the Hills of Rodine in the distance, have all been ruled by the House of Thymes for millennia. If my brother had continued on his path of self-destruction, all this would be either destroyed or invaded by a larger kingdom. My people deserve better, and thanks to you, they will finally see an end to their suffering.’
Coinin took a sideways glance at the soon to be crowned king, who was smiling happily. ‘That’s assuming the Lord Chamberlain willingly gives up his position.’
‘I’m sure everything will be fine. Did you not state that the Rodine guard fled?’
‘I did, however, who is to say he doesn’t have men loyal to him, ready and willing to fight,’ Coinin said bluntly.
Unwilling to have his mood dampened, he clapped Coinin on the back. ‘You worry too much. I have known the Lord Chamberlain all my life. He is an old friend, loyal to a fault.’
‘Can you be confident that he will be so towards you?’
‘You stated that my brother imprisoned him, so I guess we shall
see soon enough.’
‘Indeed, that is why I have decided it would be prudent to send an envoy ahead to assess the lay of the land. So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to attend to that matter.’
Riley nodded grimly. ‘So much for a triumphant return.’
‘All in good time,’ Coinin called over his shoulder as he trotted down to the main deck, leaving Riley to his thoughts.
‘Ah, Curator, how fortuitous. I was just on my way to see you. I have a compliment of men ready, in full uniform. How do you wish to proceed?’ Major Quindil asked.
‘One moment, Major,’
Coinin stuck his finger in his mouth and whistled piercingly. All heads swivelled to look at him, and he flushed red. Nevertheless, he waved to Marrok and Jericho.
Generals Wulf and Jericho, now clothed in full regalia, stomped across the wooden boards of the deck and stopped before their superior.
‘Thank you, both for your service so far. We have had a very hard slog and with little rest. I assure you, when we reach home, you both will be rewarded well. As it is, I have another task for you.’
‘I think I can guess this one,’ Marrok said.
‘No flies on us,’ Jericho added.
‘Word does indeed travel fast, as I was just saying to one of our passengers. Take Quindil’s men and assess how things fair in the city, and ascertain if it is safe for Riley to return. The ship will stay here, so you’ll need to take a boat.’
Quindil, who had been listening in, interrupted, pushing aside Marrok and Jericho. ‘What about me? I have hand picked the men for this task.’
‘Pardoning your impertinence. Indeed, you have, Quindil, and that is why you are going along.’
Quindil relaxed and smiled. ‘Thank Rindor for that; I have spent days on this tub. I’ve forgotten what solid ground feels like.’
‘Your role is to watch the men while these two oafs meet the Lord Chamberlain. I trust you to get them out of any trouble. You understand?’
Quindil visibly swelled with pride. He stood upright, saluted and backed away. ‘Understood clearly, Sir.’
The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection Page 100