Lyal dug into the food on his plate, savoring every bite. He did not care if his manners were less than stellar. He did not care if grease trickled down his chin and into his lap. He shoveled in mouthful after mouthful, unaware that he had already polished off two plates and was now starting on a third. All he knew was that he could not stop; he was like a blood-crazed animal burying its face in the kill. He looked up and saw that Whyn was watching him. Lyal set down his utensils, mortified by his own ill manners. The servants would have done better to set a plate for him by the back door.
Whyn rose and slowly walked toward Lyal. “Come. Sit with me by the fire,” he said.
Lyal was relieved to see that the King’s eyes were filled with amusement rather than disgust. He rose and followed Whyn to two overstuffed chairs by the hearth.
Whyn settled into one and gestured for Lyal to sit in the other. “Did you enjoy the meal?” he asked.
“I did indeed, Sire,” Lyal replied. “It was excellent. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.” Whyn cocked his head. “You know, I could find a place for you here. If you wished it.”
“A place for me?” Lyal said with astonishment.
“More wine?” Whyn asked, changing the subject. He motioned the wine-bearer over.
“Yes,” Lyal replied. But in truth his head was already spinning from the decanter he had drained during the meal.
The servant handed them each a glass of wine, then stepped back.
“Well,” Whyn continued, “as you may have noticed when you arrived at the palace, there are many Shell Seekers working on the rebuilding of the city.”
“Yes,” Lyal said, but strangely he felt no animosity for it.
“You may have also noticed that there were no fish or crustacean included in the meal that you just ate.” He took a quiet sip from his glass.
Lyal turned his attention to the table, then back to Whyn. “I—I had not noticed,” he said.
Whyn set his wine glass aside and steepled his fingers under his chin. “I regret what happened to your village,” he said at last. “It was most unfortunate.”
Lyal nodded.
“I would like to see it rebuilt,” Whyn said. He lifted a brow. “Would you be interested in leading the effort?”
“Yes—yes Lord, of course! But what of the rebuilding of Tearia? Are the Shell Seekers not needed for the task?”
“Indeed they are, for now. We will not be able to rebuild Meirla until I have enough workers to replace those currently here, of course. Though many are engaged in the construction effort, others have different but equally valuable jobs. The food we just ate took a great deal of effort to secure.” Whyn shook his head. “If only she had not allowed so many people to leave with my brother. I would have had more than enough laborers then, and the rest of the Shell Seekers would be free to serve me by hunting the seas as they always have.”
Lyal struggled to recall the murky details surrounding the escape of the Jecta with his people. Since his capture, it had all become so confusing. He knew many had left, and that Reiv had played a part in their decision to do so. Anger welled in his breast. It must have shown on his face, for Whyn added, “My brother can be very charismatic. People are frequently misguided by him. It is unfortunate that so many Shell Seekers left with him. Do you know why they elected to do so?”
“Because Reiv is a liar and they are fools,” Lyal said.
Whyn laughed. “Well, you have part of it right.” He reached for his glass and swallowed down the rest of its contents. “Bring me the special,” he barked to the servant waiting nearby. “The one I serve to only my important guests.”
He grinned at Lyal. “As I was saying, I would be interested in having you lead the effort to rebuild Meirla. There will, no doubt, be much resentment toward me; your people cannot possibly understand me as you do. You therefore must explain to them the truth of the matter: I was possessed by a demonic witch, but she is gone now. From this day forward, I promise to be a kind and just king, but only to those who are loyal to me in return. Do not misunderstand me, the rebuilding of Tearia is my utmost priority, but I do not wish to do it at the expense of the Shell Seekers. Until recently, we had a very amicable relationship. I see no reason why it should not return to the way it was.”
“How may I help?” Lyal asked.
“If there was some way I could persuade the Jecta to return…”
“What of the fever they were carrying?”
“I am pleased to report there have been no new cases here in the city. Cruel as it may sound, I believe the burning of the Jecta encampment stopped the plague from progressing much further. By the time the refugees are found, the illness will likely have run its course. I fear some of your people may have perished during the trek, but I am sure those who survived will be eager to return and resume their normal lives, especially when they learn I will grant them their freedom.”
Lyal furrowed his brow in contemplation. There was more to the departure of his people than simply fleeing from the King’s servitude. They were going to something, not just away from it. “I—I do not know if they will wish to return,” he said. “They were going to…” Lyal hesitated. Dare he tell the King where they were heading?
Whyn laughed softly. “Do not worry as to whether or not to tell me about Oonayei, Lyal. I am well aware of their planned destination.”
Lyal was quiet for a long moment. Whyn leaned toward him. “Lyal,” he said gently. “It is for their own good that they return here. There is no hope for their survival in the wilderness, you know that. The place they think they are going to does not exist. I have studied the maps and am certain of the direction they were heading. They did not pass this way, and the gods would never allow them to enter the mountains. The only way they could have gone is toward The Black.” He leaned back in his chair. “And you know what that place holds.”
“Yes,” Lyal said, “but I do not know if I have the power to turn them back.”
“Do you not think it worth the effort, though? Surely there is someone amongst them that you care about. A family member perhaps?”
“No, no family.”
“Friends, then.”
Lyal frowned. Friends? He’d befriended plenty of women, but they could not be counted as friends. As for the men, they only pretended to be his friends so they could make a grab for the females he discarded.
“No. No friends,” Lyal said bitterly. He held out his glass for another fill. The wine bearer hustled to accommodate him.
“I can see why a man as handsome as you would have few friends,” Whyn said. “You were too busy making time with the women. Am I correct?”
The corner of Lyal’s mouth lifted. “I did well with the women; that is true. It brought me few friends, and far too many competitors.”
“Ah, women,” Whyn said with a sigh. “I do love them; I was actually in love with one once, but that was. . .another lifetime.” He waved off the thought. “But we are not here to talk about me.” He ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “Tell me, Lyal; have you ever been in love?”
Lyal felt a catch in his throat as the image of Jensa took shape in his mind. She was the only person he could honestly say he’d ever loved, if he even knew what that meant. By the gods, why had he not fought harder to keep her?
“Ah…” Whyn said. “I see you have felt love’s cruel sting.”
“That I have,” Lyal said. “She was stolen from me by another.”
Whyn smiled sadly. “I see.” He rose and set his wine glass aside. Facing the hearth, he clasped his hands behind his back and stared at the flames. “Have you ever hated anyone, Lyal?”
Lyal hesitated. “Yes,” he said.
Whyn kept his gaze on the flames. “How deep did your hatred go?”
“Deep, Sire.”
“And was this person the one that stole the woman from you?”
“He was.”
Whyn turned to face him. “Was it my brother perhaps?”
> Lyal’s tone turned hard. “Indeed it was.”
Whyn motioned for the servant to refill both of their glasses. “Then it seems we have a common enemy, my friend. The question is, what do we do about him?”
Lyal rose from the chair and stood to face him. “We find him and bring him back.”
“And with him your people.”
“And with him my people.”
Whyn turned again toward the fire. “How unfortunate you do not think they will return of their own free will. I was so certain you could persuade them.”
“I suppose I could try. But…”
Whyn pivoted to face him. “You would do that for me, Lyal?”
“Yes, Lord. But it will not be easy. After all, they believe they are going to Oonayei.”
“Tell me of this Oonayei.”
“It is a place spoken of in the Prophecy of Kalei. A promised land. Some believe Reiv was foreseen to lead them there.” Lyal scoffed. “But I think they are wrong.”
“Of course they are wrong,” Whyn said. He placed a hand on Lyal’s shoulder. “But do not blame your people for following my brother. As I said, he can be very charismatic. Surely by now they realize what a pretender he is. More than likely most of them will welcome the news that they are free to return, especially if it were to come from you.”
“I’ll speak to them, if you wish it,” Lyal said. “But how will I find them?”
“Fear not,” Whyn said cheerfully. “We have studied every map in the kingdom and know the route they are taking. Scouts are following their trail as we speak, and I have a host of Guard ready to escort you.” Whyn laughed. “I am sure your people will not be difficult to find.”
“When shall I leave? I am yours to command.”
“Right now I command you to take yourself to your room and get some rest. Tomorrow is a new day. We will discuss your departure then.”
Lyal set his glass aside. “As you wish, Lord,” he said, and in what seemed like an instant a servant was at his side to escort him back to his room.
* * * *
Whyn returned to his chair by the hearth and picked up his wine glass. After draining it of its contents, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, but he suddenly doubled over with pain, gasping for breath.
Oonayei! she hissed in his mind. We cannot allow them to reach it!
“Why?” Whyn managed. “What is so special about this…Oonayei?”
It is sacred ground.
“Then surely no Jecta will be allowed to step foot there.”
Whyn felt her anger sizzle through his veins. I cannot risk it. You should not have allowed your brother to live. Your foolishness has opened a chasm that may swallow us whole!
“But Reiv is nothing—no one,” Whyn said. “What does it matter if he has led them on some ridiculous folly? We will have them back here soon enough.”
It is written that when the two tribes meet, they will unite against Tearia—but this will only happen if your brother reaches Oonayei and the prophecy of Kalei is fulfilled. He must be stopped.
“Then I will dispatch more Guard.”
No. Lyal cannot arrive with a show of force or the Jecta will scatter like rabbits. If he cannot persuade them to return, then a host will be waiting to see it done.
“Should Lyal be told of this?”
No need to stir his imagination. Best to let him think you are confident in the job you are giving to him. She laughed cruelly. I have enjoyed teaching him how to please me.
Wynn nodded, but could not help but cringe. “I will summon the Commander to assemble a group of men in the morning,” he said stiffly. “Once Lyal has departed, the rest of the forces will be gathered.”
A crack of pain twisted through his bones. Now you listen to me, boy. This time your brother must be destroyed. No evidence can remain of him. Do you understand?
Whyn grimaced. “Yes. I—I will see it done.”
Indeed you will. For if you do not, your life will not be worth the living. And believe me when I tell you, Whyn, I will see to it that you live for a very long time.
Back to ToC
Chapter 31: Passage
The caravan traveled for two more days, heading north along the mountain range. Reiv was confident of the pass’s location, at least as confident as he could be. Since taking this journey, he had allowed few visions to trespass into his conscious mind, for when he did, unwelcome memories always slipped out with them. But the one directing him to the valley had filtered through long ago, and so he had no need to revisit it.
He gazed upward toward the towering peaks. With luck, they would soon provide passage to a life free of Tearian rule. It occurred to him that had one event in his life not happened, had his hands not been burned, he would be the oppressor of the people following him now, not Whyn. The thought made him more anxious than ever to leave the land of his birth behind, to press onward through the darkness if need be, but he knew to travel at night was foolish; the narrow pass was going to be hard enough to find as it was. He sighed, wishing the sun would linger over them a while longer, but it was already settling behind the mountains, and it would not be long before it disappeared altogether.
Reiv raised his hand, signaling for those behind him to stop, but then he realized a wave of shouts was making its way from the rear of the line to the front of it. He turned to see what all the commotion was about, and spotted a Jecta scout sprinting in his direction.
“Tearian Guards!” the scout shouted. “Approaching from the rear.” The man came to a halt, barely able to catch his breath.
“How many?” Reiv inquired.
“A hundred on horseback, maybe more.”
Reiv focused his eyes in the direction from which the man had run. “How far?” he asked.
“Four leagues,” the scout replied. “Maybe less. They had just cleared The Black when we spotted them. We have no way of knowing if they saw us, but. . .”
“They are headed in our direction.”
“Aye. And riding fast.”
Reiv felt his alarm build. There was no chance of hiding this many people; running was their only hope. Could he lead them to the pass in time? And would the Guard follow them into it if he did?
“Spread the word that unnecessary baggage is to be tossed,” he told the scout. “Tell everyone to take only the barest essentials. We must make a run for the pass, and quickly.”
Brina, who had been resting in the back of the cart, slid off and stepped toward him. “What is it?” she asked.
“The Guard have found us,” Reiv replied. “We must run.”
Brina’s face, already pale, went even paler. “Run?” she asked. She ran her eyes over the caravan, then turned them back to Reiv. “You cannot ask these people to run, not in the shape they are in.”
“What else can I do?” Reiv said. “We cannot simply stay and hope the Guard will pass us by!”
“I—I know, but—”
“But nothing! Now help alert the others.” He spun to face Jensa and Gair. “Take only what you can carry. Leave the rest.” Reiv rushed toward the horse and the transport being pulled behind it. “Cora!” he said. “Help Torin up. Get him onto the horse.” Torin struggled into the sitting position, shrugging Cora’s hands away. “Gair will help me, Cora,” he insisted. “You go find Kerrik and the girls.”
Cora took off full speed, shouting the children’s names louder with every step she took.
Reiv ran to the transport and unhitched it, then hurried to the cart and thrust his hands into its contents. He yanked out a bundle wrapped in cloth and handed it to Torin. “Nannaven gave me this,” he said. “No matter what happens, do not let it fall into Tearian hands.” Torin looked at the bundle with curiosity, but asked no questions.
The caravan soon became a hysterical mob as the message sped down the column. People dropped their bags where they stood, screaming and running in various directions. Reiv barked an order for them to stop, to wait and follow him to the pass, but once word spread t
hat the Guard was approaching, survival circumvented all common sense.
Reiv knew he had to get the crowd under control, and the only way he knew to do it was to start the line moving. Gair had already helped Torin onto the horse, and Cora was now hustling toward them with the children in tow. Brina gripped the horse’s bridle, clinging as if for dear life.
Jensa stepped in front of Reiv. “How can I help? What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“If the Guard reaches us, I want you to run as hard and as fast as you can. Do not stop, not for me, not for Kerrik, not for anyone.”
“What? No!” she sputtered. “I won’t!”
Reiv took her face in his hands. “Now you listen to me, and you listen well. It would be better that some of us survive than none. Kerrik and the girls are fast; they could easily slip away. And Gair is strong; he will fight for those of us who cannot. But you—you do not want to know what the Guard would do with a prize like you!”
Jensa reached up and gripped Reiv’s hands. “I won’t. Reiv, please….”
Reiv wrapped her in his arms and held her tight. “Promise you will run,” he whispered. “Please promise, for me.”
“I—I promise,” she said at last. “I will run. As you say.”
“Then do it. Now.”
Reiv released her and she sprinted to the horse, grabbing the bridle from Brina’s hand. Soon the horse was trotting next to Jensa, Torin and the children bouncing on its back. Gair loped behind it, Brina’s hand in his. She looked on the verge of fainting, but Reiv knew that were she to tumble, Gair would be there to pick her up.
Reiv serpentined toward the back, shouting orders for people to drop unnecessary belongings and follow the caravan’s lead. Many who had hastened in other directions soon rejoined the group. The line began to advance more and more quickly. Reiv stressed urgency, but as hard as they were running, their efforts were slow compared to those of the Guard drawing near.
Reiv regained his place up front. He glanced at the sky. It was nearly dark, and the incline before them was treacherous. He would have wished for more moonlight, but that would have further alerted the Guard to their whereabouts. Even a single torch would have signaled their position.
Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn Page 30