by Jacob Cooper
“Oh, I think I’ve seen enough of your hunting. Somehow I’m the one who always has to make the kill before it gets away.”
Reign’s prize would provide them meat for spans and with something to trade at the various markets they passed through.
“There’s no way we’ll be able to carry all the meat. We’ll smoke and salt what we can’t cook and carry as much as we can with us. Even then, a good portion will still go to waste,” Hedron observed.
The boy sat there without response from Reign. He frowned as he observed her, busily tending to the preparation of the meal. Such pensive intensity for the early hour of a new day. “Again?” he asked.
“As always,” she said, not looking up from the smoking meat. Hedron knew of her dreams, how they were always of that night. His own nightmares of losing their mother had ceased years ago.
“Why do you suppose the Ancient Heavens keep the dream upon your mind in the night?” Hedron asked. “You have not slept peacefully for ages, and these last cycles have seen your nights more restless than before.”
She did not respond. Still not meeting his eyes, she apportioned a part of the game for her brother, and went to work on her own. Hedron sat nonplussed for a time, but then the pull of hunger bade him release himself from his question, and he ate.
“I think I shall head south and visit Kathryn this night,” Hedron declared, his mouth full of his breakfast. “It has been several span, and she must no doubt be in need of my presence.”
“Of your doting, you mean,” Reign said.
“Reign, peace. Will you come?”
“Who will look after you if not me? But Hedron, why not go to the north? We were just in the south and we haven’t visited Jayden and her packs for some seasons.”
“Bah,” Hedron scoffed. “Wolves. Why is it you find fascination with Jayden? That old pile of bones is nothing but a bore. I pray for the Ancient Heavens to allow me to die rather than listen to her. All her ramblings and mutterings. Really, Reign, the cold, the ice, the wind—”
“I like it,” Reign offered simply. “The wolves are…” She looked to be pondering the word. “Understanding,” she finally said. The many years in the northern Gonfrey Forest with Jayden had left Hedron grateful for her protection but also done with the North. He much preferred the more temperate climate of the West or even the warmth of the South. The Hoyt hold in Thera was not so far distant from Calyn, both cities somewhat cradling the Roniah on opposite sides.
“Reign, please. Come with me south first and by next Rising Season we’ll visit Jayden. I promise.”
“You know this is a fantasy.” Reign said this sternly, but in a calm tone. “Kathryn will be sent off to marry not many years hence. Perhaps to House Orion, or even Gonfrey, poor girl. Enslaved by a life of ladyship.”
“You do have a way with perspective, Reign. Still, I love Kathryn. Can I not follow this path?”
Reign did not answer. She looked away, devoid of facial reaction and word. Closing her eyes, she fought back as it pushed against her again. She let her dark hair fall over her face to conceal her grimace from Hedron as she struggled against the pressure.
Later that day the Kerr twins moved east and came to the edge of the forest, where rolling hills sprawled for dozens of leagues before the borders of the Realm’s Crossing. The Changrual Monastery was built upon the geographic intersection where all four provinces met, symbolizing a unity of faith throughout the Realm. According to the legends, the Realm’s division into provinces happened only after the Changrual had chosen the location for the Monastery and was settled. The plot of land they chose was not the center of the Realm from a geographic standpoint, but the High Vicars declared the land to be where the Ancient Heavens had desired the structure to be built. Oliver Wellyn did not argue, according to the legend. The Arlethian borders had already been established, however, they having occupied the land long before the Senthary arrived. These rolling hills were augmented to their borders after the location for the Monastery had been chosen so that it would lie partially on their land just as the other three provinces.
“Where to now?” Reign asked. They both stood looking over the hills and Hedron again realized they did not have a place to call home in all the world. He did not care.
Hedron risked a glance south, but Reign scowled and shoved him for even thinking about it. “I curse the day you met that child.”
“Child? She’s fourteen, a year younger than us is all. She’s no more a child than you or me.”
“Is that what you really think, Hedron? Has she lived as we have? When you were fourteen, were you living pampered in some grand hold with servants to answer your beck and call? Or was she on her own, living from meal to meal and running from her own name?”
“Kathryn has depth that you can’t see, Reign,” Hedron replied with rare firmness. “How many people don’t care about our name and accept us as we are? She has shown the ability to see well beyond the lies that spewed forth from the Granite Throne. That is worth a lot to me, and should be to you, too.”
Hedron called the propaganda about their father and family lies, but he was not as sure as he sounded. Stubborn seeds of doubt remained.
Reign sighed. “So, where to?”
Hedron didn’t look ready to let their argument drop, but answered, “The Silver Pools? It’s only a few days’ sprint.”
“Three days for you, maybe, but only two for me!” Reign darted off silently across the green landscape. Hedron would let her get a head start. She always needed it. Reign was faster, but Hedron could always catch her over a distance. His endurance levels seemed to draw upon fathomless reserves of energy.
He took a small nibble of leftover meat from breakfast, looked longingly south once more, and then took off after Reign.
TWENTY-ONE
Hedron
Day 28 of 4th High 412 A.U.
“REACH A LITTLE HIGHER,” Kathryn whispered. She was a bit giddy with excitement to see her secret love again. “You’ve almost got it.”
Hedron was scaling the wall of Hold Hoyt to Kathryn’s elevated chamber loft, a task made more difficult when night was overcast, concealing the light of moons and stars alike.
He reached the top of the window ledge, which resembled more a battlement, and hoisted himself up. “Kathryn,” he said as he tried to calm his breathing.
“Shhh…,” she hushed him. But, he ignored her, and pulled her to him, embracing her. After a brief moment, Kathryn pushed back and slapped him. Hedron looked stunned.
“What was that for?”
“Must I tell you? Is it not obvious?” Kathryn retorted.
“Ah, come on Kathryn, I’m here now, aren’t I? You know I always try to come as often as I can. Besides, it seems to have become much more of a risk to make my way to your side than ever before.”
“Well,” Kathryn spoke in low tones, “you are here now.” She softened, her hurt glare turning to a relieved but wary expression. “Father means to have me married within two years, but seeks to make firm arrangements as soon as possible. He prepares meeting after meeting for me to entertain ‘suitable choices’. It is quite maddening to play the part when my heart lies else where.”
“Suitable choices?” Hedron replied, amusement on his face. “So, who have you chosen? No, don’t tell me – I’m certain I’ll guess. Is it Brennan Gulway?”
“What?” Kathyrn sounded hurt. “Brennan? Certainly not. His eye brows are practically a forest of their own – ” Hedron did not let her finish.
“It must be…let me see…oh, yes I’m sure it would be Lawry Mendell! He’s got enough krenshell to buy any lady’s heart.” Hedron was clearly enjoying himself.
“Honestly, do you really believe I would consent to marry someone who threw tree sap in my hair as a child? It took mother ages to – ”
Hedron’s laughter interrupted her. Kathryn grabbed a pillow from her bed and smacked him with it several times before smothering his face with it to muffle his laughter.
“You’re going to get yourself captured or worse!” Kathryn hissed. “They don’t know who you are but my father and his men do know someone visits me after your last narrow escape.”
“Narrow escape?” Hedron asked. “Narrow? My dear Lady Kathryn, your father’s men nearly provided me a bit of needed exercise as they chased me from the hold. They couldn’t catch me if they – ”
“But their arrows could, Hedron. Just be quieter and you wouldn’t have to escape.”
“Ah, Kathryn, your concern so moves me,” he jested. “In fact, I think I’ll go to your father now and proclaim my love for you and insist I be given your hand in marriage.” He arose at once as if to go and do exactly as he said.
A look of terror took over Kathryn’s face. She grabbed his hand tightly and tugged his arm, shaking her head with pleading eyes. Hedron broke into laughter again and plopped down on to her bed. Kathryn rolled her eyes and relaxed. “Why do I put up with you?”
“Because of my natural wit and extremely charming looks,” Hedron responded with feigned confidence. He still wore his mischievous grin.
“No, actually, I’m sure it’s nothing more than a childish crush on danger, as my mother tells me,” said Kathryn playfully.
“Oh, that has to be it. I mean, no wonder they want you to marry someone respectable. Someone like, hmmmm – like Reginald Sperry!” This latest taunt earned Hedron another light slap, but this time Kathryn laughed as well.
“A life with Reginald is assured to be short due to death by boredom!” Kathryn countered.
“Why?” Hedron asked. “You don’t find his dried Hydraf collection the most fascinating thing in the Realm?”
“Shhh” Kathryn whispered. Voices were heard outside her room approaching from the outer hallway. “Hide!”
Hedron ducked under her bed, on the side that was concealed by a rather large clothing chest, chiding himself for not being more sensitive to the vibrations around him. Though not as easy to decipher through stone, he still should have sensed the approach earlier. Two guards with a torch peered into her chamber opening.
“Are you well, young Lady Kathryn?”
“I am, kind sirs,” she said in her most calm and proper tone. They stood for a moment longer and then continued on their routes.
Hedron came out of hiding once he felt their footsteps far enough away. His demeanor was more serious now, eyes full of thought.
“What is it?” Kathryn asked.
Hedron didn’t meet her gaze. He considered for a moment longer, then said, “What are we doing?”
The question lingered for a moment and then he did meet her eyes. The orange candlelight glimmered on half her face, concealing the other in shadow.
She’s so beautiful, Hedron thought. And so out of reach. He touched the scars on his chest through his shirt that remained as a cruel reminder of earlier childhood lessons. Juxtapose to Kathyrn’s beauty was his disfigured body. Some scars large, some small; some seen, others unseen. Even such a wound as the one on his chest would have left little evidence of ever existing had he been wrapped in Triarch leaves, but no Triarch tree survived in the northern tundra of the Gonfrey Forest where the trees were strangers and were not fluent. He carried the outward scars symbolizing what had become of his house and name.
“Hedron, what do you mean,” Kathryn entreated lightly. He could tell she was trying to counter his change in mood.
“This is a dream. A good dream, but still one that will eventually end by an unwelcome awakening. There’s no chance for me to find favor with your father. I have nothing to offer except my name, which is more a deterrent than aid. Ancients, Kathryn, it’s a dam that I fear can never be broken.” Reign is right.
He knelt down and took Kathryn’s hand. “I would give anything to marry you and have you be my honored wife, but this can not be. We both know it but have ignored it for so long. I come from no house or status worthy of a lady’s hand. Should I even try to convince your father, I would have to lie about who I am. I’ve done this almost my whole life, but I won’t for this. I won’t have a lie be what our marriage begins with.”
Kathryn did not say anything for a moment, but knelt down next to him and took his face in her hands.
“Hedron,” she started with a tone of confidence at odds with his of resignation. “Hedron, you are mistaken. You are of House Kerr, a name as old and honored as Hoyt, Wellyn or Chester. Older, even. You are heir to your father’s hold and have a rightful claim to lordship of the Western Province. Lord Therrium is honorable, but was only made provincial lord as a placeholder under the law, and only permanently after you were presumed dead. You know this is true.”
“But I am dead to the world, and heir to nothing. The Kerr succession is dead.” Anger rose in Hedron as he spoke, breaking away from Kathryn’s touch. “My family’s hold lay in ruins, overrun and reclaimed by the forest. All the Realm spurns the name Kerr for a false betrayal conjured up by deviant men for reasons I do not know, but are surely as shallow as their perpetrators’ own existence.”
“Hedron that’s not – ”
“Yes it is. If anyone knew a Kerr still lived, how quickly would a bounty be extended? How many would come for me? For Reign?”
“Where is Reign?” Kathryn asked.
“Headed north. Somewhere in the Western Province currently, I’m sure. She’ll be with Jayden in a span, give or take a day.” Hedron’s voice was flat.
Kathryn never enjoyed these times when Hedron was so full of self-deprecation. He had related much of their early childhood history, but always in a lighthearted tone, as if a fairytale. But Kathryn knew the experiences, which would make for great entertaining stories of a storyweaver, were anything but lighthearted and entertaining for Hedron and Reign. She recognized the strength that had been forged in him, even if he could not see it. He was as strong and flexible as Jarwyn steel, forged in a furnace of affliction.
“I don’t know,” Kathryn finally said in a somber tone. “But, I do know that you are the rightful heir of your house. The Ancient Heavens would grant to you that which is yours, that which was stripped from you by those with dark intent.”
“We tell ourselves that to be comforted. But what if they were right and my father was who they say he was? We don’t really know. Not truly.”
“They say the same thing about your mother. Do you honestly doubt your mother’s integrity as well?” Kathryn asked. “Even if what they say is half true about your father, you are the better half.”
“It is a dream. I am not but fifteen years of age. I’ve no training in matters of state, no skill with steel or bow, no reason for men to follow me or care – ”
“You are wrong,” Kathryn interrupted. “Hedron, you’ve forgotten the weight your name used to carry. If a Kerr were to rise up and claim his role and place, others would follow. I promise they would. Father still speaks of Lord Thannuel in respectful tones when others are not around. His renouncement was for show in the public eye as I’m certain is the case for many others.”
Kathryn stopped speaking, but her eyes continued silently pleading for Hedron to understand.
“Pretense or not, your father could not consent for our marriage for the same reasons he renounced my father,” Hedron answered without looking at her.
“But we must try, my love. Father is a good man, he will figure something out if nothing else for the simple fact he still silently honors your house and father.” Kathryn was insistent, her face showing that she truly believed her words.
The silence was as a rift between them. Kathryn knew continuing the verbal volley would be to no avail, but the sadness that came upon Hedron was palpable.
Night still had many hours before retreat, and Hedron’s eyes swam with weariness. He lay down on his side on the thick animal fur rug at the side of Kathryn’s bed. She reached her hand down from her bed and rested it upon his head, her hand gently caressing through his thick auburn hair.
In a few moments, his breathing became
long and even. Kathryn lay in silence, her eyes glistening with emotion. How could she make Hedron understand? How could she convince him of his worth? Of her father’s capacity for understanding and mercy?
“Stay with me,” she whispered. “Don’t give up on yourself, on us.” But Hedron was deep in slumber where Kathryn could not follow.
Hedron awoke briskly. He could smell fire and something else—death. Realizing he was still at Hold Hoyt in Kathryn’s chamber, he gathered his mind as well as his short blade. Then he focused on the scent again, and recognized it was not here, in his presence, that the sensations were emanating from. He let his mind flow to the place it lead him and fear grasped a hold of his heart.
“Reign,” he said in a violent whispered exhale while simultaneously arising from the ground and bolting out the arch window some scores of feet to the ground below, silent and swift as any wood-dweller.
Lord Calder Hoyt often wandered the silent halls of his hold in the early morning hours before light came to the world. As Provincial Lord of the Southern Province, much weighed on his mind. Matters of state were a heavy burden for any man, no matter how strong and square his shoulders might be or his mental prowess. Then there was the ever-present worry for his family’s safety. For more than half a decade, Lord Hoyt carried the shame of denouncing Lord Kerr, a man whom he knew to be nothing but honorable. He knew Wellyn was somehow involved. He was up to something, but his family would come to great harm if he vocalized or acted on his conscience. There were those that would come for him, demons from the Fathomless Abyss.
Following his normal routine, Lord Calder Hoyt peered into his daughter’s room. Across the stone floor, he could view her bed with its canopy hovering over her as if a protective shield. The thick cloud cover, shrouding even the light of the stars, extended the night’s dark veil. The faint shimmer of light from the torch on the wall at the room’s entrance only illuminated a few feet around the flame, leaving most of his daughter’s expansive chamber cradled in night.