by Hal Emerson
A dark shaped shot past Raven, knocking him over on its way to wrap the girl in a huge bear hug. After catching his balance, Raven saw that the shape was Davydd.
“Isn’t it great?” He asked, swinging her around while she laughed.
“I know! He should have been chosen ages ago!”
“Warryn was never anyone’s first choice anyway,” mumbled the quiet, yet strong voice of Lorna behind Raven, making him jump. She’d come up with Davydd apparently, and when Raven turned to her she nodded, looking quite pleased, though thankfully not enough to resort to hysterical displays of emotion.
“We have to go to the manor,” Davydd said quickly, turning to Leah and Lorna, “we have to congratulate him. I’m sure he’ll be in the mood for it.”
“If we can convince him to take any night off, it’ll be this one,” Leah said with a grin. She seemed to be calming down, though her eyes still shone brightly.
All the while, Raven just stood there awkwardly, not sure if he was supposed to join the conversation or not. For the moment anyway it seemed he had been forgotten as Davydd rattled off options for what they could do that night, everything from a grand, extravagant party, to an average, still extravagant party.
“Raven – I owe you an apology.”
Raven turned to see Autmaran standing just behind him. The man’s bald head and dark skin shone in what light was left from the setting sun. The sky above them was various shades of color, fading into twilight.
“Indeed,” Raven said, feeling a surge of anger at the man rush up inside him. He did not like being humiliated, and he didn’t like surprises.
“I truly am sorry,” Autmaran said, holding up his hands in defenseless supplication and looking concerned by the ugly look Raven was giving him. “I knew that if I asked, you’d say no … and I thought … well, I thought we’d stand an even chance of swaying the Kindred if your surprise was genuine.”
“I understand the need for showmanship, but do not do that to me again,” Raven said quietly. His voice was low and harsh, but he didn’t really care. The man needed to understand he was serious. “I think you’re a good leader, and I think you’re a good man. But if you do anything like that again, you and I are no longer on sociable terms with one another. I will cut all ties with you, and you shall be no more to me than a man I once respected. Do I make myself clear?”
Autmaran’s eyes grew wider and wider as Raven continued, and when he was finished, the Major looked half offended and half ashamed. Was it possible he hadn’t understood just what position such an act would put them all in?
He doesn’t know about the prophecy. He was trying to do right with what information he had … let it go.
The tension left him, and Raven sighed. He opened his mouth to soften the statement, but Autmaran stepped back, bowed his head in a formal farewell, and left without saying another word.
Great. Just perfect.
“There he is – the man of the hour!”
Raven turned at the sound of Davydd’s voice, and saw Elder Goldwyn approaching, Tomaz close by his side to ward off the bulk of the Kindred enthusiasm. Goldwyn didn’t seem to mind though – he had a smile and a cheerful wave for each Exile who called to him or caught his eye.
Leah and Davydd went to him and embraced the man. They made an odd trio – Goldwyn was taller than either of his children, and while they all moved with the same strange, liquid grace, there was little if any physical resemblance.
That makes sense though, Raven thought to him. I don’t know about Davydd, but Leah is his adopted daughter, that I know for certain. Her blood parents are among the Most High who reside in Tyne.
Goldwyn was smiling broadly around at them all, looking both proud and surprised.
Did he know the nomination was coming? Raven asked, but then dismissed the thought. It was true that he and Crane seemed to be friends, but not everything could be planned out.
Oddly coincidental though that the Forum got called by Autmaran barely a day and a half after I was inducted into the Kindred. Crane and Autmaran couldn’t have worked more in concert if they had tried. Wait …
A series of pieces fell into place and Raven saw the whole picture. Crane not telling Warryn Raven and the others were waiting outside the tent, Crane convincing Raven to join the Kindred, Crane promoting Autmaran to Major so that he had the power to call a Forum. This whole time the man had been working toward one goal – replacing Warryn. It made sense – assuming he’d been honest when they’d spoken about the man, Crane was no fan of the former Elder.
He knew someone, most likely Autmaran, would call a Forum to elect a Prince, Raven thought, marveling at the long-term thinking that went into orchestrating something like this. And he knew that if a Forum were to be called, he’d have a chance to replace Warryn while the man’s disgrace was still fresh in the minds of the people. Even before that – was it he who had Ishmael insist I come report to the Elders, knowing I’d been wounded? Did he plan on me losing my temper? Could he have played all of this just to make Goldwyn Elder of State?
But then why Goldwyn? Was it because the former General was a good leader, or was it because he would be in Crane’s pocket?
“The solemn, brooding one over there is Raven,” Tomaz rumbled.
Raven looked up and saw them all looking at him and realized he’d been so caught up in his own thoughts he hadn’t been following the conversation.
“I know the name, though not the face,” Goldwyn said, watching him with a studious look. His eyes were almost entirely gray, with only the barest hint of green that seemed to shift and change with each angle of the light. But the force behind those eyes was what made them remarkable, and as they rested on Raven’s own, he could feel a tangible pressure on him, a weight of consciousness. This man had power to him, just as Crane did.
We should never have under-estimated the Kindred, Raven thought ruefully. Having met more than one man like this among them, it was hard to believe the thought throughout the Empire was still that the Exiled Kindred were no more than a ragtag band of rebels too cowardly to come out and fight.
“It is good to meet you,” Raven said stiffly, awkwardly. He was still trying to understand how to be formal without coming off as arrogant. He didn’t think he was quite doing as well as he could, but he supposed stiff and awkward was better than offensive and boorish.
“It is good to meet you as well,” the man replied, watching Raven with a strange, unreadable expression, almost as if he were examining something in a shop, trying to make up his mind if he wanted to buy it.
“Congratulations as well,” Raven said, not knowing what else to say. “You seem to be a popular person among the people.”
“Popular now that none of them are my students,” Goldwyn said, his eyes never leaving Raven’s. “When most of them had me as a teacher they didn’t seem so glad to see me most days.”
“Elder Goldwyn!”
They turned to see Elder Crane beckoning, a serious look on his face.
“I must go,” Goldwyn said, looking over his shoulder. “It seems my official duties have already begun.”
“We’ll meet you at the manor?” Leah asked.
“Yes indeed,” Goldwyn said, nodding emphatically. He turned to Raven again. “You are of course welcome as well. I know my daughter is quite fond of you – any friend of hers is welcome in my home.”
“I don’t know if fond is the right word,” Leah muttered, shrugging wearily. “But he could be worse.”
“I accept the offer,” Raven said, still feeling completely at sea in this strangely informal, yet formal setting. It was awkward beyond belief – this was why people had rules and customs about social interactions. It made things so much easier to navigate!
“I look forward to speaking with the farther of Leah and Davydd,” he continued, trying to slip a compliment into the conversation so that it wasn’t a total disaster. “They seem very knowledgeable on a wide variety of topics. I’m sure their upbringing is muc
h of a credit to you.”
“Hah!”
The sound shocked him, and he looked at Leah who was smirking at him.
“Where’s the proud Prince of the Realm who wouldn’t give out a compliment if his life depended on it?” She asked, her green eyes laughing at him “Surely you can’t be him.”
“Let him be,” Goldwyn said softly, smiling indulgently at her.
“Though, I do have to ask … you have explained to him that I’m not really your father, correct?”
“Wait,” Davydd said slowly, his lower lips quivering dramatically. “You’re … you’re not my real father?”
He turned and ran into the crowd, waving his hands over his head, wailing loudly. Lorna followed with a husky chuckle, her straw-colored bowl-cut hair swirling around her wide head as she broke into an easy trot.
“Yeah we covered that,” Leah confirmed.
“Good,” Goldwyn said, before he turned to go, bidding them farewell once more.
Raven followed Leah and Tomaz as they grabbed their horses and made their way into the city proper once more, away from the Odeon. The two of them were talking amiably, about small things of little consequence, while Raven stewed in his own thoughts. But when the conversation lulled, he broke in.
“How did you come to be his daughter?” He asked abruptly.
“Wow,” she said, “you got right to the point there didn’t you?”
“Sorry,” he said by reflex, “I’m not sure when I’m expected to speak candidly and when I’m not. I’m working on it.”
“You’re getting pretty good,” Tomaz rumbled encouragingly.
“Thanks,” Raven said. “In any case – how did it happen? He seems very important. I wouldn’t think him the kind of man to adopt children just for the … well, just for the fun of it.”
For a long moment Leah didn’t say anything, and Raven worried she would refuse to answer. He knew some of Leah’s story: she had run away from Tyne, the home province of Rikard, Prince of Lions, to escape a family that had beaten her almost to death for disgracing them. She’d been left bloody and broken, her deep-seated hatred the only thing keeping her alive. But other than those details, spoken in a moment of anger, he had been able to learn nothing. She was extremely close-mouthed by nature, and even more so about her past.
Though to be fair, you’ve been just as reticent about yours.
“When I left Tyne,” Leah said abruptly, “Davydd was there on a mission for the Rangers. He’d run three years before … he’s my blood brother. We’re from the same parents.”
Raven nodded slowly, watching her intently, knowing this was a delicate moment. If he said or did anything to offend her, she’d clam up and he’d never know anything else about her.
Why do you care so much anyway?
He ignored that inner voice, hoping it would go away and stop bothering him.
“When he ran, my family was disgraced,” she said, not looking at him. “They lost a lot of power. Much prestige. They became something of a bad joke. And then word came that he’d joined the Kindred, that he’d been seen in a raid only a few miles outside the city. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was there with Lorna and Tomaz, helping destroy the granaries the Lion tries to build each year in secret. Rikard came to visit the city the next week, and the Empress was with her, for the first time in years. She never leaves Lucien anymore – why she came to Tyne I don’t know. But then … well you know what happened then. I forgot to bow, my parents, already disgraced, were cast out of the Most High and relegated to the status of Elevated.”
She frowned and cleared her throat heavily, and Raven saw Tomaz looking at her with concern. She continued, voice steady, though she seemed to be rather intently not looking at Raven.
“After that, I ran. And knowing Davydd was rumored to be nearby, I went in the direction of the grain fields. I don’t know what happened next. The memory … I don’t think I was really in my right mind.”
“You were whipped almost to death when we found you,” Tomaz rumbled quietly, “I’m surprised you remember anything at all.”
Leah smiled at him – well, grimaced really– and then stopped walking. They were outside a large manor on a street near the center of the city, close to the Capitol building. She turned to face Raven.
“And that’s all you’re getting out of me,” she said, arching an eyebrow and pointing a threatening finger at him. Her heart wasn’t in it though, he could tell.
On a sudden impulse he stepped toward her and held out his hand to pat her shoulder, the way Tomaz was fond of doing. Immediately her hands fell to the two long daggers she kept sheathed at her waist and her face turned ugly. He pulled back as if burned, and froze, dropping the reins of his horse and holding up his hands defensively. They stood like that for a long moment, looking at each other.
She’s lived her whole life since then with nothing but Tomaz and those two daggers to keep her safe. A Rogue, a rebel, fighting against her family.
He tried to imagine doing what she did – going back to the places he’d lived as a child, maybe even seeing people he knew, knowing he’d been cut out of that life completely. Fighting against his family … how had she managed to separate the two pieces of herself? How had she done it?
“I don’t know if you heard,” he said slowly, “but something similar happened to me. Mother tried to kill me. Big giant rescued me in the woods. Apparently it’s more common than we’ve been led to believe. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a whole rash of giant-rescuing operations being run all throughout the Empire. Really now, I think it could be a thing.”
For a long moment she just stared at him, her hands still on her daggers, and then slowly, very slowly, a smile curved up the corners of her mouth.
“Besides,” he continued, “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I turned out just great as a result. I mean, I killed my brother and a bunch of other people before orchestrating the downfall of the greatest city in southern Lucia, but on a personal level I’ve been told I’m really improving. I think soon people will move me up from ‘evil’ to ‘morally confused’. Maybe someday I’ll even just be ‘annoying’. It’s a stretch, but I’m optimistic.”
Her eyes were smiling at him, twinkling around the edges, and without warning he felt himself smile too. He noticed suddenly that she had a splash of freckles across her nose that he’d never seen before. They blended in perfectly with her olive skin, making them almost invisible.
And then it was awkward.
They sprang apart at the same time, taking a step back from each other and speaking random strings of nonsense words.
“Yes, right,” he said turning to the house.
“Yeah,” she responded, motioning toward it.
“So that’s where you grew up?”
“Correct.”
“Davydd too?”
“That would also be correct.”
“It certainly looks –”
“You two are ridiculous,” rumbled Tomaz, pushing past them and walking up toward the door of the manor after tying off Mary. Raven and Leah, carefully not looking at each other, tied off their horses as well, and followed him.
The manor was tall and wide, located on a small rise in the center of the valley, just a natural fold in the ground that placed it at a slightly higher level than some of the buildings around it. Raven looked up as he entered and saw a kind of balcony constructed on the top level with a well-cared-for wooden railing. From up there you could most likely see half the city.
The first impression Raven had of the building was its openness. It had a high ceiling, with little to no furniture in the main rooms, giving it an airy, unrestricted feeling. The walls were painted with strange multi-hued lines, both horizontal and vertical. All of the walls he could see were covered with them, even up the large winding staircase on the right that led off to a second level. It didn’t really look like paint though, now that he came to think of it, it looked like –
Books.
/> Raven audibly gasped, breath coming in through his mouth in a rush, his head spinning, all thoughts of anything else forgotten.
Every spare surface of wall had been shelved and covered with books. Leather-bound, wood-bound, paper-bound, blue, red, black, green, so many types and sizes and shapes that he could barely hold it all in his head.
“We’re in the court!” Called a voice ahead of them – it sounded like Davydd.
Tomaz and Leah continued on underneath the stairs and second level walkway, and Raven followed, still dumbstruck by the hundreds, no thousands of books that this house contained. Hallways branched off to the left and right and he saw these were lined as well; his mind reeled at the thought of one man owning this many books, wondering how many in total there might be. He found himself in a lofted room full of chairs and soft couches with a huge open doorway leading out onto a beautiful courtyard. Tomaz and Leah had already left by the door, and he hurried to catch up with them.