“That sounds like Ellyesce,” Dervit replied quietly.
Jahrra gritted her teeth. Yes. Yes, it did. He was skilled with his magic, and when Jahrra took the time to consider it, she realized he was probably far more powerful than he was letting on. He was an accomplished warrior, and he was very intelligent.
But one would never guess by looking at him, she mused. Of course not. He did not wear the clothes one would expect a Magehn to wear. He wasn’t showy with any of his talents, in fact. His dress, his appearance, his demeanor. All a disguise. Jahrra narrowed her eyes at Ellyesce’s back, several paces ahead of them, and then let her gaze slide to her guardian. How many more secrets were they keeping from her, and when would she be allowed to know them? Before they arrived in Dhonoara? After? Never?
Jahrra huffed out a breath, and Dervit blinked at her. “Sorry,” she muttered.
She would drive herself crazy trying to piece together this grand puzzle, and she had more important things to worry about. Like figuring out how on Ethoes she was to cause the downfall of a god-possessed king. Jahrra once again cast Dervit a sidelong glance. Although his eyes surveyed the tall trees surrounding them, the downward crook to his mouth made her wonder if he was just as worried as she was. He had been jerked into this saga of theirs almost against his will. Did he regret his decision to come along with them? Would he turn around and return home if he knew just how bad the Crimson King was? Jahrra shuddered, then cringed as a wave of guilt washed over her. She didn’t want Dervit to leave, even if he wanted to. Enough with your dismal thoughts, Jahrra. Focus on something else.
They reached the inner space guarded by the tall stones where Ellyesce was in the process of dismounting Gliriant. She swiftly copied him, letting Phrym’s reins go so her semequin could forage for sweet grass and clover.
“Are you really the last Magehn of the Tanaan king?” she demanded.
Ellyesce had his back to her, and she didn’t miss the slight stiffening of his shoulders at her inquiry. Slowly, he turned around and met her gaze, his own eyes hard, unyielding.
“Jahrra,” Jaax began, turning so that his body blocked the gap they’d just walked through.
Jahrra shot up a hand. “Don’t. I want to hear an answer to my question. Not from you, but from Ellyesce. The person I addressed.”
She didn’t even bother looking at her guardian, but she knew his expression had grown darker.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ellyesce finally said between clenched teeth.
He made to turn around, presumably to fetch his saddlebags and tend to Gliriant, but Jahrra’s hand on his shoulder brought him up short.
“Yes, it does!” she exclaimed. “We are mere weeks away from open war, against a god-cursed tyrant I must somehow destroy. The least you can do is let me in on some of these secrets you two insist on keeping to yourselves! Maybe there is something I need to know, some fragment of knowledge that will help me figure out how I am supposed to bring about the downfall of Ciarrohn and his mortal puppet!”
Jaax drew in a breath to speak, but Jahrra snapped her attention to him and snarled, “Don’t try to deny it, Jaax! You knew about Ellyesce all along, I can sense it. Even back in Oescienne, when I told you and Hroombra what I had found in that cave.” She narrowed her eyes accusingly at him, then hissed, “You seem to know everything.”
Silvery green eyes sharpened like the edge of a blade, but the Tanaan dragon only glared at her, his teeth pressed tightly together.
Jahrra whirled around to face the elf again. “At least let me know what I must before it’s too late! You were alive when the Tyrant first rose to power, weren’t you? Did you fight with the king of Oescienne in that first battle? Does Cierryon have any weaknesses that might help us defeat him?”
Ellyesce remained quiet, a deep frown marring his grim face. His gaze flicked to Jaax, then back to her. For several heartbeats, they simply stood there in a silent standoff, neither one of them moving an inch. Eventually, Ellyesce’s shoulders sagged, and he rubbed his hands over his face.
“Ellyesce!” she cried again, throwing her arms down by her sides. “Say something!”
One second, he was a dark blot against the pale gray stone looming behind him, an immovable shadow simply absorbing her chastisement. Then, with the flick of an eye, he threw back the hood of his cloak, pale green eyes blazing to life where only wary defeat had lingered just seconds ago. The force of his sudden burst of emotion had Jahrra taking a few shocked steps backward.
“Because some parts of my life are still sacred, Jahrraneh Drisihn!” Ellyesce hissed with more vitriol than she’d ever heard from him before. “We are all allowed to keep some parts of our soul secret, and chosen savior of Ethoes or not, you have no right to demand a viewing of mine.”
Jahrra’s mouth dropped open, and some of her anger faded. In fact, shame tainted her cheeks more now than irritation. As much as all this furtiveness grated at her nerves, Ellyesce was right. Everyone had the right to share or guard what parts of their life story they chose. Jahrra’s eyes swiftly found Jaax, before turning back to Ellyesce. It had only been a minute glance, but she had caught sight of her dragon guardian long enough to take in his stillness, his own stern, silent demeanor. This was a discussion between her and Ellyesce, and Jaax would not be stepping in. Not after she had made it clear she didn’t want to hear his excuses. And now she had gone too far, demanding that her friend do as she asked. Jahrra let her own shoulders sag, then drew a breath to offer an apology, only, Ellyesce beat her to it. He sighed harshly, running his fingers through his dark hair, before lifting haunted eyes to hers.
“Forgive me.”
His voice was rough, as if his show of sudden and unusual temper had burned his throat. With obvious weariness, he turned and headed for a large, fallen tree branch beside one of the giant stones. He sat down heavily, elbows resting on his knees, and stared across the flat space where the semequins and Rumble nibbled at a patch of greenery.
“No, it is I who should be asking for your forgiveness,” Jahrra admitted, moving to stand beside him.
They remained quiet for several moments, none of them, not even Jaax or Dervit, saying a word. Perhaps they all needed a few minutes to gather their thoughts and cool their tempers.
Eventually, Jahrra asked, “What are you willing to tell me, Ellyesce? What am I allowed to know?”
Ellyesce ducked his head as if admitting defeat, then said wearily, “Sit down, Jahrra, Dervit. I need to tell you a story.”
Dervit, who had been standing atop one of the lower rocks, leapt to the ground and sat upon a smaller branch across from Ellyesce. Jahrra, on the other hand, came to rest next to the elf.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Jaax murmured, settling himself in the space that remained.
Ellyesce lifted his head just enough to give the dragon a weak nod.
“Jahrra is right. Some of this she needs to know. But just remember,” he said, regarding her with a furtive glance, “there are still things I can’t tell you. Some of them because of the oaths I swore and promises I made to others, and other secrets because they are private and belong to me only.”
Jahrra swallowed and breathed, “I understand, Ellyesce. I’m happy to listen to what you’re willing to share.”
The elf grunted softly, then reached down and picked up a stick. He sketched a few marks in the dirt, one which resembled a bloodrose, the others archaic letters or symbols of some sort. After heaving a great breath, he began his tale.
“My story begins in Dhonoara, long ago, when I was held in high esteem by the king and his subjects. One day, I made a grave mistake, and I could no longer remain in the valley of my ancestors.”
“Did they send you away?” Jahrra couldn’t help but ask.
Ellyesce shook his head, a wry smile gracing his lips. “No. I wasn’t banished. I put my trust in the wrong person, and I couldn’t live in Dhonoara with the shame, so I ventured west to seek employ with the Tanaan king of Oescienne. I had h
oped to offer my skills as a mage or secretary, but the king was gracious enough to make me his Magehn. I didn’t feel I deserved the position, but I swore I would live up to the great honor the title granted me.”
Dervit had been listening so intently he nearly fell from his perch. Jahrra lifted a brow at him and patted the space beside her on the branch. He complied and scrambled over to take a seat beside her. Once he was settled, Ellyesce dove back into his story.
“I would have happily served the royal family for generations,” he admitted, with a shrug.
“What happened?” Dervit pressed.
“War.”
Ellyesce lifted his eyes to Dervit’s, and Jahrra shivered at the coldness emanating from them.
“The Tanaan king marched on Ghorium, and then years later, his youngest son went to his doom as well. There was no longer a royal house of Oescienne to serve. I became a wandering vagabond for a time, until I heard of Hroombramantu and his Tanaan ward, Raejaaxorix. For many years, I worked with them and the Coalition. Time passed, and the demons from my past crept back into my heart. I left the Coalition to seek peace, but unfortunately, I didn’t find it.”
“And then, Hroombra and I received word Ellyesce had disappeared,” Jaax added quietly, his deep voice startling Jahrra a little. She’d been so caught up in the story, she had forgotten about her guardian. “Like Farian, we received word Ellyesce had perished in the wilderness, hunted down by the Tyrant’s soldiers.”
Jahrra drew in a shuddering breath.
“So, that is why you and Hroombra reacted the way you did when I showed you the compass.”
Dervit blinked between the three of them. “Compass?”
Jahrra nodded, then told him the story of the skeleton in the cave and the compass she’d found.
“All those years,” Jaax murmured, “Hroombra and I thought you were lost in the wilds of Hrunah or the ranges east of Oescienne, only to discover you had almost made it back to us.”
Ellyesce huffed a small laugh, but it held no humor, “And then to have me knock on your door in the dead of night in Lidien.”
It was Jaax’s turn to snort. “I don’t think I have ever been so surprised in my life as I was the moment I recognized you in the dark.”
“So, if that wasn’t you in the cave,” Jahrra asked slowly, “why did I find your compass and journal with the remains?”
The grin Ellyesce cast her way was a shrewd one, the haunted, distant expression on his face gone.
“I had been shot in the shoulder by one of the Tyrant’s men, and the poison had brought me to the brink of death. I passed out expecting I would die, but I woke up again and tore the arrow from my shoulder. I suspect my magic saved me. After a few days, the mercenaries found me. Well, at least one of them did. Before he could shout the alarm to his comrades, I stabbed him with my knife, then shoved the arrow into his shoulder. The lingering poison worked faster on him. I could have taken the journal, the compass, and all my other personal belongings with me, but I thought it better to let that part of my life die. If anyone ever managed to stumble upon the remains in the cave, they would think me dead for sure. How ironic that the human child promised to save our world would be the one to discover the message I had left behind two centuries before her birth.”
Jahrra gaped at him, her mind reeling. Well, that answered one of her questions …
“If you were the Magehn of the Tanaan king,” she said very carefully, “then you know where, and who, the lost prince is, don’t you?”
An unnatural quiet settled over them, the nearby shifting and chatter of the forest elves making camp the only thing to disturb them.
Jahrra looked Ellyesce in the eye, daring him to glance away or deny what she claimed. But he stared right back at her, his own gaze unwavering.
Finally, the elf said, “Yes. I do.”
Jahrra stood abruptly from her seat on the tree branch, nearly knocking Dervit over in the process. She had not expected Ellyesce to admit it. She was too used to grumbled non-answers from her guardian and Hroombra before him. With that thought, she shot Jaax a look, only to find the dragon’s hard eyes piercing Ellyesce like a blade.
“Where is he, Ellyesce?” she pressed, her tone quiet. “It was his people who were cursed by the Tyrant five centuries ago. If you know his whereabouts, why are we not, at this very moment, looking for him?”
The elf laughed, though there was little humor in it. “Perhaps we are, Jahrra. Have you ever considered that?”
She scowled at him, not liking his tone.
“Just answer my question without another query, would you? Who is the prince of the Tanaan and where is he?”
Ellyesce shook his head, and the look in his eyes was one of mild apology.
“I have always admired your spirit, Jahrra, but I’m afraid I cannot provide the answers to those questions.”
Jahrra’s teeth clenched together.
“Why not?” she gritted.
“Because,” the elf said, drawing himself up to his full height, “I swore an oath of honor, before the very prince I’d pledged my service to upon his father’s death, and before the Baherhb, the great seal of the Korli dragons, that I would keep his location and identity secret until my death, or until the prince himself released me from my vow.”
Jahrra could only gape at him. “Are you serious?! We are marching to Dhonoara with the purpose of waging war against the Tyrant, with the hope that our allies will rally behind us, and you are keeping secrets like some, like some,” Jahrra fished around for the right comparison.
“Like a social climber trying to cur favor with the mayor’s wife,” Dervit offered.
Jahrra blinked and looked toward her friend. She’d been so caught up in her discussion with Ellyesce, she’d forgotten the limbit had been listening the entire time.
Jaax gave a short laugh, and Jahrra glared at him. He only smiled at her, those shrewd eyes of his glinting with humor. Jahrra crossed her arms and faced the Tanaan dragon head on.
“And do you know where the prince is, Jaax? Surely Hroombra passed on that information to you.”
Jaax raised a scaly brow, his smirk shrinking. “I imagine the prince of the Tanaan is wherever he needs to be. But the point is, the Tyrant must be overthrown, with or without his royal highness in attendance.”
His way of suggestion she drop the subject. Ha! Like that was about to happen.
“As Dervit was saying,” Jahrra drawled, turning back to face Ellyesce, “it seems silly now to cling so tightly to an oath pledged centuries ago, and to someone who seems devoid of honor. We go to war in Ethoes’ name, to restore the Tanaan race of humans, to break the curse of the Tyrant King, and the prince can’t even be bothered to join us? To fight for his throne? And you still refuse to tell us where he is?”
Ellyesce flashed Jahrra a dangerous look, and she actually balked. She had been suspicious of this elf before, had only recently begun to fully trust him, but she had never truly feared him. The sharpness of his eyes, the cold, unwavering defiance unfurling from him made her take a step back.
“An oath sworn before a monarch above the Baherhb is no flimsy promise made behind the closed doors of a drawing room, Jahrra of Oescienne. I may have been attempting to erase my past the day I left it behind in that cave, but the vows I took still hold precedence in my heart. In my soul. I will not divulge the information with you, no matter how hard you press me.”
He turned then and stalked from the campsite, leaving a somewhat abashed Jahrra to stare after him. When she regained her composure, she turned to consider her guardian once again. He was watching her, which was no surprise, but that same unwavering aura enshrouded him as well.
“And have you sworn such an oath, Raejaaxorix?” she asked coolly.
Jaax only offered her a smile that either meant trouble or that she was fighting a losing battle.
“Oh, I’ve sworn plenty of oaths, Jahrra, but if you want answers from me, I should think you’d have learned by now I d
on’t bend so easily to the wills of others. Even yours.”
With his usual reptilian grace, he stood. Before following his friend into the surrounding forest, he gave Jahrra one more assessing look. “Considering I have not yet told you the answer to your questions means I either do not know, or I feel those answers need not be shared. I’ll leave you to decide which and hope that you trust me enough to know whatever I do decide to divulge or keep quiet is done with your best interests at heart.”
Jahrra could only stare after him as his multitude of green, bronze, and turquoise scales melted into their forest surroundings. For several long minutes, she stood there, arms crossed over her chest, trying to drive away the irritation scraping against her nerves. A little bit of anger, and guilt at trying to bully Ellyesce into breaking his oaths, brewed in her heart as she scowled at the now empty trail snaking away from their chosen campsite. What had she expected, asking them such questions? And why on Ethoes was the prince’s identity such a big secret, anyway?
Huffing out a breath of frustration, Jahrra sat down hard upon the log she’d vacated earlier. She picked up a few small stones and hurled them at one of the larger boulders some fifty feet away. The shards of granite cracked against the hard surface and fell unceremoniously to the ground. A mockery of her failed attempts at getting information.
“Why can’t anyone ever give me a straight answer?” she grumbled, glancing over at Dervit.
The limbit, in his usual manner, had remained relatively silent during the latter part of the encounter.
“If I were to wager a guess,” Dervit offered, climbing up onto the fallen tree to sit next to her, “I would say they were trying to protect you.”
Jahrra snorted and tucked her hands more securely under her armpits. The day was tilting towards early twilight, and the warmth provided by the spring day was quickly creeping out of the woods. Soon, it would be dark, and the frigid air pouring down from the tall peaks not too far away would settle around them.
The Legend of Oescienne--The Reckoning (Book Five) Page 6