by T. C. Edge
If it even happened.
"There's got to be more to it than that," I say. "What...what did you father do?"
Elian's expression grows dangerous at the query, his body once more lighting up in flame. "So you think he's to blame?" he growls. I see his hands begin to zap with licking tongues of fire. He looks set to explode should I say the wrong thing.
"I didn't say that," I counter. "I'm just saying, I don't believe that Perses would have just murdered your father, a Chosen, in cold blood. And how the hell does Kovas know what happened anyway? Was he there? Why hasn't he told the Prime about this? He relishes being in charge. Surely that would have been a better way of getting command of this army?"
"Precisely," Elian says, nodding smugly. "It would have. And doesn't that prove that your idea that he wanted Perses dead is ridiculous? Why would he possibly think that telling me what happened would lead to his death. My being there that night was nothing but a coincidence. I had nothing to do with it. Kovas is as shocked as anyone. He only told me about my father because he was a close friend to him, and thought I deserved to know the truth."
"And now just happened to be the right time?" I ask. "Right now, on Haven's doorstep. Oh, there's something more going on here that you're not telling me, Elian. Maybe you know, maybe you don't, but Kovas's stink is all over this."
"Think what you like. It doesn't matter now," grunts Elian. "Perses is gone, and good riddance. Now Herald Kovas will lead us to glory, and get the proper recognition he deserves..."
"Kovas is a fool. He's far too unstable to lead this entire army."
"He never expected to," Elian shouts. "What are you not getting here, Amber? Perses died because he went off and fought alone, and was eventually overcome. I saw how badly injured he was. He'd been weakened by the firestorm and then bit off more than he could chew. Kovas told me that he went off on his own. He was asking for trouble. He thought he was invulnerable, and died because of it..."
"He died protecting me!" I counter, shouting the words, filling the small space with a croaking roar. I feel my hands shaking as the memory surfaces, the shame, the guilt. My voice is overcome, turning small. I drop my eyes and let out a long sigh. "He died protecting me," I repeat. "It was me who went off alone. I was going to die, and he saved my life, and gave his in return. Whatever you think of the man, be thankful for that."
Elian goes quiet, the strain returning to his eyes, though softening to something resembling compassion.
"He, was killed protecting you?" he asks. "I thought, maybe, you'd found him like that. I...I didn't know."
"And does it change anything? Apparently he killed your father, and that's all you're willing to remember." I let out a breath, a short silence filling the room. "It was my fault he died, not yours," I admit. "I've been so...so angry with you. So confused by everything. But really, it's myself I hate right now. If I hadn't been so stupid, he'd still be alive. I...I haven't told anyone yet. I don't think I could take them knowing right now."
"Amber..." Elian slips towards me, his voice soft. The shroud of frigid air has gone now, and the flames within are doused. He glows faintly, a warm and inviting shade. A shade, perhaps, to reflect his mood, as though some of the guilt, the anger, have been drawn away.
I look up at him, and let him come. Somehow, I want him near me again, want to feel right. I hate that Perses is dead, and I'm to blame. But almost as much, I hate that I've lost Elian as a friend too.
"I'm sorry," he says, reaching out gently. "I'm sorry that you think that, Amber. It's not true, you know. You cannot blame yourself."
He draws me into a hug, and I let myself fall into his comforting, familiar embrace. I realise, right then, how I've missed him these last few days. How much he helps me carry the burden that weighs me down.
I...I can't be angry with him anymore. Not about what he did. I can understand it, with the news, true or not, being so fresh. Would it have made a difference if he'd helped? Would Perses have survived? I know, deep down, that nothing could have saved him that night. We were too far from camp, too far from help. There was nothing that Elian could have done.
But whatever he says, I do blame myself. Maybe Perses was weakened already. Maybe he was beginning to falter. But saving me, killing all those men, can only have been the final nail in the coffin. It was too much, even for him.
He saw my light and came. He sensed my fear, and came.
And died because of it.
The tears that fall are for him. For the man who gave his life so I could live mine. I weep against Elian's shoulder, finally able to unload the truth, finally able to set free my grief, my regret, my shame.
And to feel Elian grasp me back, it somehow makes it a little bit better.
"I'm sorry about your father," I whisper to him, knowing I must return the favour. Whatever the truth of all this, I'm certain Kovas is involved, whether stirring the pot or more directly. I don't, won't, can't blame Elian for him. "I know it must have been hard to hear about it. And...I'm sorry if I'm questioning you. It's only Kovas who I don't trust."
He draws away, holding my arms and staring me deep in the eye. His own begin to glow with their usual golden light. His skin does the same, slowly, surely casting away the shroud of darkness and cold.
"I know you don't, Amber," he says. "But we have a job to do now. We need to keep our minds on this war. We have a responsibility now to help save lives."
"And take them," I say.
"Yes, take them. That is our job here, the same as theirs. That is war, Amber."
"I...I know." I try to think of the Prime, think of Avon's advice, to feel their light inside me. "I know it's our duty. And whatever I think of Kovas, I will try..."
He manages to smile, seeming so much lighter. As though he needed to clear the air with me, as I did him. To move on and do so...together.
"Good," he whispers. "Then I guess we should go train?"
I nod, slowly, hardly feeling up to it, but knowing it's the best way. Right now, there seems little else for us to do, with the bombardment ongoing, weakening the city for our eventual arrival.
I wonder, given Elian's proximity to Kovas, whether he's privy to his plan. And with the landscape between us smoothing, I feel that now might be the time to ask.
"Do you know what Kovas's strategy is?" I ask him, as we begin moving back out towards the door. "We're hardly being kept in the loop, are we? Dianna and the Overseer think this might be terror warfare to weaken their resolve, or merely a way of destroying a certain part of the city for us to enter through. You know, without being forced into a bottleneck." I look at him. "Any ideas?"
I can't tell if he's simply unwilling to share, has been told directly not to, or simply doesn't know.
"I think it's something like that," he says, remaining fairly ambiguous. "I haven't heard the exact details, but I know that weakening the city is part of the plan. But, yeah, I don't know the exact plan."
"Well, those wild men didn't prove useful, apparently. Knew nothing that could really help us. Did you hear about them escaping?"
"I heard something about it earlier," he says. "A soldier came and updated Herald Kovas here. He, er, he didn't seem happy."
"No, even suggested me and the Overseer had something to do with it."
Elian frowns. "That doesn't seem likely," he says, remaining fairly neutral on the matter. "The Overseer will see it all cleared up."
"Well, he's busy right now. We just got word of another prisoner being brought into camp. Seems like this one might be a little more useful."
"Hope so. Not for us to worry about now, though, is it? We should stay focussed if we can. I...I'm glad you came here, Amber. I hated us not getting on. It doesn't seem right. What's happening around us isn't really about me and you. We shouldn't let it come between us."
I nod, though still feel a little sore about being so abandoned that night, alone in the woods. What if more soldiers had come? Elian probably knew they were in retreat and heading the othe
r way, but still, I might have found myself in danger, my energy depleted as it was.
I was vulnerable, and he just...left.
I decide, however, that holding a grudge over that isn't going to get us anywhere. If I'd have been there alone, of course he would have helped. It was only Perses's presence that forced him to leave so dramatically.
We continue back out into the morning sunshine, the sound of bombardment once again reaching my ears. It forces me eyes up towards the wall once more.
"I wouldn't mind taking another look later," I say. "See it all from up there."
"The city? Did you check it out yesterday?"
"Yeah. It's...massive."
"Like Olympus," he nods. "Different, but similar, if you know what I mean." His eyes turn towards the central command station ahead. "Anything else happen I should know about?"
I think again of the news of the raids last night, something Elian is likely already aware of. It brings Jude again to mind, the subtle threat from Kovas, now evidently aware of his presence in camp.
I grow cold, again, at the thought. I stop in my tracks as we walk.
"What is it?" Elian asks. "You want to go to the wall now?"
I shake my head. "Did you tell Kovas that Jude was here?" I ask him. The question is firmly stated, direct and accusatory in tone.
I can think of a reason, perhaps, why he would let that piece of information slip. Why he'd resent the fact that Jude is here. After all, we were getting along so well before. Does Jude's presence change all that, he'll wonder. Maybe it would be better if he wasn't around at all...
I turn my mind from the thought, thinking it overly unsavoury, and not in keeping with the Elian I know, and have come to care about. No, he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't...
He shakes his head, brows falling over his golden eyes. "No, I didn't say anything," he says. "Why do you think I did. Why...why would I?"
"I don't know. Maybe it just came out in conversation? I'm not saying you did it maliciously or anything. I'm just...I don't know. He's my best friend, Elian, and I'm worried about him. It’s hardly safe here for those workers outside the camp, building and repairing shelters."
"You're thinking of the raids last night," Elian says, declaring his knowledge. "I know, a few Fringers were killed. You're worried one is Jude?"
"No, he's safe," I say. "The Overseer told me. I'm more worried about what might happen in future. A lot of the workers are still beyond the safety of the camp, and being sent out daily."
"And...Kovas comes into this, how, exactly?"
I shake my head, feeling like now isn't the time, after the conversation we've had, to double down on my distrust of the man. It makes me doubt myself, though the way Kovas was acting seemed clear enough at the time. "I...I don't know, maybe I'm just being stupid."
"No, go on," says Elian, a little skeptically.
"He just...he seemed to threaten Jude's life," I say. "I didn't want him knowing about Jude, and now that he does, I'm worried that he'll have him killed if I don't comply."
"Comply? With what? He's not asking you to do anything."
"Not yet. Maybe he knows he doesn’t have my loyalty, and will probably never get it. Maybe this is his way of guaranteeing it."
"It sounds a bit...farfetched, Amber. Did he actually threaten Jude directly."
"Well, no. It was subtle. But pretty obvious to me."
"OK, well I'm not seeing a problem here," Elian announces. "If anything, his knowing about Jude could be a good thing for you."
"Um, how's that, exactly?" I ask, hardly convinced.
"Well, bargaining goes both ways, right? If you think he's threatening Jude to make sure you're more compliant and less, I don't know...well, yourself..."
"And what does that mean?" I cut in.
"You know what that means. You question everything, all the time. If you weren't so Prime-damned powerful then you'd have been out on your ass a long time ago."
I draw my lips to a line and flatten my eyes. "You were saying about this working for me," I say, deadpan.
"Right. So, yeah, if you think that's what Herald Kovas is doing, then you can 'subtly' make demands of your own."
"Such as?"
"Such as guaranteeing Jude's safety. He could be put to work inside the camp instead of out there. Ask for that, and then say you'll make no further trouble of your own in response. Everyone wins."
I consider it, idly flicking fire around my fingers. "I...guess that might work. Though, I don't like the idea of Jude being caught in the middle of this mess."
Elian shrugs. "He already is. Might as well get something out of it, right?"
"I...suppose," I say. "Um, thanks, Elian. And thinking about it, I guess Kovas might have found out about Jude another way." My mind turns to Lady Eloise, and the trouble outside the infirmary a couple of nights ago. It wouldn't take much for that to reach Kovas's ears. It's even possible, though unlikely, that Perses mentioned it in conversation himself.
"Glad to hear I'm in the clear," Elian says, finally managing a slight grin.
It breeds one on my own face too. It's nicer than I can reasonably admit to have him back, and though much has changed in the past few days, there seems little reason why we can't be close once again.
I embrace that, at least.
Because whatever he says about Kovas, I will never trust that man. And deep down, I know, whether directly or indirectly, he played his part in Perses's death.
And one day, I'll find out how.
96
The bombardment of Haven goes on for that entire day, and right through the night that follows. As Elian and I find a quiet place beyond the reaches of the camp to train once more, the continual sound of explosions thuds gently in the distance, ever a reminder out here that the war is picking up steam.
Our cohort of chaperones remains largely the same, though without Krun to lead and assist. Yet the truth is they're hardly needed, our training grounds remaining within the new boundaries we've set up, outside of the camp itself, but within the perimeter of the many sentry posts and dugouts peppering the hills and woodlands around us.
Training goes well, though we learn nothing new. It seems to be a simple matter of bedding in what we've already learned, sharpening the tool set now at our disposal, rather than going off to seek a new blade. Herald Kovas, it would appear, is fully aware of Elian and my recent falling out. This, I'm certain, is merely a means of forcing us to cooperate once again, getting past our issues here within camp, rather than having to face them when we're called into action.
It seems to me, when I step aside from my dislike of the man, to be a sensible course of action. Instead of having us both glowering in the corner, why not bring us back together, working on the things we know best. Rather than having me lingering around camp with nothing to do, questioning his rule and generally being a pest, why not keep me busy by placing me back under the tutelage and supervision of Elian, whose full support Kovas knows he has.
Yes, I don't consider Kovas to be the sharpest tool in the box, nor the most authoritative leader, but he's certainly gotten this move right.
So we train, and talk, and try to fall into the old routine. It's hard, of course, with things now having changed. Without Perses around. With Jude now on my mind. With the bombs ever thundering in the distance, reminding us that our own involvement is surely near.
We make the best of it, and though there remains a shadow of awkwardness following us around, we never let it distract from the more important issues at hand.
When we finish, and with the onset of night not too far off, Elian suggests that we venture towards the wall and hike to its summit, look out upon the city so far away. I hesitate at the prospect, despite earlier being intrigued by the same thing. Is there any point, I wonder, in looking upon a city under siege? Might it not only weaken my resolve, looking at the crumbling buildings, the battered wall, the vast plumes of smoke rising to the greying sky?
I choose to spare myself,
at least for now, deciding against it as we make our way back into camp. As we pass, I find my eyes looking towards the workers' encampment a little way off, my eyes taking on a mournful slant.
"Go and check on him," Elian says, noticing me looking. "It looks pretty busy over there. I'm sure he's around."
I hesitate for some reason, wondering what I might find. Fearing, perhaps, that the Overseer was wrong. Or that more raids have occurred during the day, Jude caught up in the fighting.
"Amber," says Elian, snatching my attention again. "Look, I'll speak to Herald Kovas if you want. I'll see that Jude is kept safe."
"I..."
"It's the least I can do after leaving you in those woods. I...I'm sorry for a lot of things that have happened recently, but I'd never, ever want to see you harmed. Let me do this for you, OK? Let me try to make it right."
I nod, slightly vacantly, my mind unable to come to any thought out decision right now. It seems a fair bargain, and his contrition, as always, appears entirely genuine. But still, there's something about it that makes me uncomfortable. I never wanted Jude to be part of any of this. And now, here he is, right in the centre of some ridiculous power struggle.
It all makes me very uneasy.
"Look, I'll get on it," Elian finishes. "And don't worry, I won't make it obvious or anything. Just, leave it with me."
He smiles and departs, slipping off through the main camp with a sudden spring to his step. Evidently, he's feeling a little lighter after training today, the shroud of darkness appearing to have disappeared.
I turn away with a quite opposite feeling brewing inside me, working towards the slave camp, eyes taking in the sight of the dirty and downtrodden, the weak and weary. I slip through, searching for the foremen and supervisors who see to the workers' day to day operations and upkeep, handing out their rations and setting them their tasks. I have to ask around before I come upon the man directing Jude's troop, a stern-faced and burly individual with little redeeming aesthetic qualities. Like most of the supervisors, he seems to have been selected for that very reason, a nasty sort who'll be only too happy to keep his men in line.