Divided

by Rae Brooks

Aela didn’t think that she had wounded him at all, but not wanting to irritate her father, she moved to the table to take her place. Leif and she played a game of cat and mouse with their eyes, as she did everything in her power not to look at him, and he did everything in his to make her.

  A few more nobles arrived, and fortunately, Ryo managed to get there just a little before the last few. That meant that father would have no one to yell at later in the moon, and therefore the castle could be peaceful and she might get to read a little more of her book.

  The meal started with a simple soup, with the servants bustling in and out and filling drinks to the likings of the nobles. Then, the conversation started. “We appreciate the invitation, my lord. To what do we owe the honor?” One of the nobles spoke first.

  Veyron smiled lightly. Aela could guess that this had something to do with Veyron’s recent messengers telling him that Lavus spoke more of war than ever, and that it was nearly coming to its fruition. “To have a few friends over for dinner!” he said. “Is that a crime?”

  “A crime, no,” the man answered, “but I know you well enough that you do not do things without thinking about them far too much.”

  There was no denying that, though sometimes Aela wished Veyron would give a little more thought to the things that mattered, and a little less thought to the things that didn’t. “Fair enough, Volpris, then I shall enlighten you.”

  The noble nodded, seemingly pleased with his ability to get to the heart of the matter. Aela didn’t think there was much reason for him to be pleased. After all, Veyron himself would have no doubt told them all within the next course of the meal. When Aela moved to survey the table, she had the unfortunate luck of running into Leif’s eyes. She diverted them instantly and stared intently at her father.

  “As you know, Dokak recently started an alliance with Telandus,” Veyron said gravely. Aela hadn’t the slightest idea why anyone would want to do that, as Telandus had a reputation for destroying its alliances the moment they weren’t needed anymore.

  One of the nobles obviously shared her sentiment. “Magistrates know why! The rulers of Dokak must have gone mad. Telandus is a plight on this land. If I had my way, we would have attacked them long ago,” he said shortly.

  Ryo snorted and shook his head. Aela couldn’t help but think this must have been the reason that Taeru wanted to go. If he had been here, in this conversation now, Aela could picture him shifting, trying desperately to think of words to say that would convince the others that Lavus was a man—like any other. “Lavus wants us to attack him, though,” Ryo said.

  “My son does have a point,” Veyron agreed. “I believe Lavus feels that if I run my armies into him that he will get sympathy from some of the nations that say they would never give it to him. Believe me, Taran, I would love to wipe that sniveling man from the land as well.”

  This seemed to satiate the man well enough. Nobles always were that way—all they needed was to be patted on the head and told that their opinions were good. If that was done, then no noble would ever be displeased. “But Lavus continues to try our patience,” another man spoke then. “First, he taxed his goods so high that we forbade them through all of Cathalar, then he had the audacity to take some of Elar’s farmlands! In what world would any man show him sympathy?”

  “I believe you are right,” Veyron said. “I think Lavus is incorrect in his assumption, but I want to ensure that I know all of his traps before I leap into battle. He obviously wants it.”

  “He must think he is ready,” one of the more subdued nobles put in. “We need a means of finding out more of why he is so prepared to go to war. Surely, he cannot honestly believe so certainly that he will be protected by his neighbors.”

  Aela pursed her lips as she regarded the conversation. They had considered sending spies into Telandus before, though nothing had ever come of it. She wondered why not, as she couldn’t think of any way for the Telandan men to know whether or not someone was a Cathalari spy. Though, the spy would have to make due on their own, of course—as any goods would be confiscated. That was just the way of travelers, though, they carried little—and were always ready to part with what they had.

  Her panic upon seeing Taeru preparing to leave without the slightest luxury was fast. He’d taken a few loaves of bread, and a canteen of water, but nothing more than that. There was no way the supplies could have lasted him for more than a cycle or two.

  Aela tuned back into the conversation in time to hear mention of the spies about which she had been fantasizing. No one ever wanted to volunteer for the jobs, as nobles were too spoiled for it—and no one trusted commoners with the task. Soldiers didn’t have much experience surviving without their armor and supplies, either.

  The silence was awkward, as everyone seemed to realize that a spy was needed, but that none of them had the decency to volunteer. Aela couldn’t help thinking that Taeru would have volunteered, Veyron would have said no—but he would have volunteered. Ryo, on the other hand, probably didn’t want to go. He wasn’t the type for that kind of work. Ryo was a much better diplomat than Taeru or Aela would ever be, but his practical skills were lackluster at best.

  “I’ll go,” the voice shocked her and, for once, she let her eyes willingly move to Leif.

  When everyone, including his own father stared at him in stunned silence, Leif offered a wary smile. “I’m known for being relatively subtle, and I don’t doubt that I could make it to Telandus. I’d have to find a way to pay off the messengers to send reports, but I’m sure I could manage that.”

  For some reason, Aela was horrified at the concept of Leif, Leif Firenz, running off to the middle of Telandus where anyone who knew who he was would hang him in an instant. She frowned deeply. “You would make a horrible spy,” she said, without checking her words.

  Leif looked mildly offended at her statement, and he regarded her abysmally for a few long moments. “I would most certainly not,” he finally said. “I take most of your insults graciously, my lady, but this one is off base.”

  Aela knew it was, so there was no sense in arguing the point. But Leif couldn’t go off to Telandus—he could be killed! She gritted her teeth and forced herself into silence, as any further protest would bring too much attention to herself. “Leif is right,” Veyron said warily, “if you would have it, Orale, he might be what we need.”

  Leif’s father looked beside himself. Surely, he wanted to tell his son that he couldn’t go—but if his son was volunteering and it seemed that no one else was willing to do it, then why should he say no? After a long few moments, he stared at Leif. “Well, if… if you think you can handle it, son, then I am not one to stand in your way.”

  Leif grinned wolfishly at his father and let a slow nod overtake his countenance. Aela found that she was even more unhappy now than she was when Leif had showed up to the bloody dinner. Oh—didn’t it just figure!? Leif always managed to make her life a nightmare any time he was within seeing distance.

  The rest of the dinner consisted solely of political babble that Aela was happy to ignore. She also re-adopted her policy of not looking at the insolent little brat of a nobleman who had ruined her dinner. Once dinner was ended, she excused herself from the company with a curtsy. She quickly removed herself to her room to grab her book. She would have ordinarily stayed in her room, but as she didn’t feel particularly like doing so—she headed to the courtyard.

  Their courtyard was one of the few places in the castle that Aela liked. There were hanging flowers and fountains that spilled up water in abundance. The soft sounds of it soothed her worries, and she collapsed on one of the swinging benches that their mother had installed before her passing.

  There, she pulled out her book and opened to her place. She didn’t worry about who might see her, as no one paid attention to the princess in the courtyard reading a book—everyone saw her doing it—and no one cared about it anymore. The words flowed before her and she found herself lost in them. Despite having read them befor
e, she felt as though she were going through them for the first time all over again. Her chest knotted for the hero every time.

  Yes, the individual spoken of in the book could almost have been Taeru Lassau. The only major difference was the fact that this hero, this man, had promised that the Magisters could have his life and destroy the lands—if he were to fail. Taeru would have been too worried to make any promise like that. Taeru believed in people, but Aela couldn’t imagine him taking a risk with other people’s lives. Taeru would have promised his own death thirteen times before he promised another’s.

  That guilt, though. Her reading of the book had opened up an entirely new worry for her brother. She only hoped his guilt about leaving hadn’t been his undoing, and that wherever he was, he was happy. “There you are. Reading. I should have guessed.”

  Leif’s voice frightened her, and she lowered the book at once. Leave it to this boy to come and ruin her reading time. As if he hadn’t already soured her evening. “What do you want?” she hissed. She didn’t intend to be polite.

  “To grace you with my lovely presence,” Leif said flatly. “You should be thanking me.”

  “I’m trying to read,” she informed him.

  He quirked an eyebrow as he sat down beside her, completely uninterested in her attempts to get him to leave her alone. “What are you reading?” he asked.

  “A book,” she answered curtly.

  He frowned. “You have got to be the most unpleasant woman to be around. What book?” he asked.

  Aela didn’t need Leif getting any dirt on her—as far as her tastes in reading not exactly being legal anymore. “Likewise for you and men,” she said. Truth be told, she could think of a few people that she would less like to be around than Leif Firenz.

  Just as he always tended to do, Leif seemed to know that she was lying. A very small, thin smile eased its way onto his lips. “The book is from Telandus, yes?” Leif asked.

  Aela jerked her head up to him and her eyes widened. How could he have seen what she was reading so quickly? She had done her best to hide it immediately, and she certainly hadn’t been reading it in plain sight. He had to have been staring at her for some time! “You were spying on me,” she accused.

  Leif looked insulted, and then he laughed. “You are vain, princess. I was doing nothing of the sort. You simply weren’t very worried about hiding your book,” he informed her with a crisp voice. She wished she was as good at detecting lies as Leif seemed to be.

  “I think you’re lying,” she said without reason. He just offered her another quiet grin and looked out into the courtyard without saying one way or the other. She assumed that his lack of denial meant that she was right. All at once, now felt like the perfect time to speak her mind. “Why did you volunteer to go to Telandus? You know that you will probably die?” she asked him, as though speaking to a child.

  For a moment, Leif didn’t answer. He just kept staring at the ground as though he was certain something would spring up from it. Silence hung in the air as she waited for his response. “I wanted to go,” he finally answered.

  “You wanted to throw your life away? And here I thought you were far too fond of yourself. Did someone knock you down a few pegs while you were in Enask?”

  Leif frowned. “No, I just decided that I wanted to be doing more than I am.” His response was quick, and it reminded Aela just a little too much of another she’d received a while ago. Leif was going to disappear—and likely never come back—just like Taeru.

  “Do what you like,” she said flatly, uninterested in continuing the line of thought. She didn’t want to feel that loss again, as she was still feeling it from the first time. After all, she didn’t care about Leif Firenz.

  There was another strained silence, and she realized that she may have affected him with her words. Perhaps she’d been too harsh—then again, he certainly wasn’t taking her feelings into consideration with his sudden decision to leave. “I could bring you back all sorts of books, you know,” he said lightly.

  She wasn’t in the mood to humor him. In fact, she was restraining herself from knocking him across the head. “Lovely,” she said.

  “Aela,” he finally said, and all of his fancy tones had been forgotten, “what is the matter with you?”

  “I don’t understand why everyone feels like they have to leave.” She stared into space. Everyone. Taeru had left because he felt as though he should be doing something, and now Leif was going to do the same thing.

  Aela didn’t know how she felt about Leif, and she had been trying to figure it out for some time. Or perhaps she had not been trying to figure it out in his absence, and now the fact that she had let it go unchecked was beginning to beat down on her. Leif was leaving just like her brother, and she could feel a familiar pain stirring in her chest.

  The book felt as though it were burning her hands, even as she continued pretending to hide it from Leif. There was no need—since he knew the book was outlawed. Yet, it felt heavy—as though it were weighting her to the area. She wanted to throw it. She wanted to see her brother again, and she didn’t want to lose Leif.

  Her chest tightened, and suddenly, she stared into his dark blue eyes with desperation. “Take me with you,” she said. “I want to go with you.”

  The thought hadn’t fully formed when she’d spoken it to Leif. The idea of leaving Cathalar had always terrified and tempted her. Now, though, when she was no longer deterred by the idea of doing so alone—and with Leif leaving—it compelled her.

  “No,” he said shortly.

  She wasn’t taking that this time. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. “No, I will not take that as your answer. I know how to wield a blade and a bow. The latter probably better than you. I can dress myself as a boy. I want to go with you, Leif. Perhaps I can…”

  Leif gritted his teeth and looked away from her. He knew enough about her life to know that saying no to her would hurt her severely, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to say no to her. She would have to wield her feelings and words carefully. “No,” Leif answered, “this is not turning into a wild goose chase to find your brother! If he is there, I will find him. I don’t need you.”

  “I want to go! I need to be away from my father and Ryo. I am going mad here, and I know that where I should be is with you—fighting.” Her words implored him with increased desperation. He was impressing her with how vehemently he refused her. Perhaps he cared more about her than he’d let on.

  His dark blue eyes stared into nothingness, and his vulpine features seemed sharper in contrast with the moonlight. Leif really was attractive, but noblemen didn’t care about the women they married—and so she could never marry Leif. For living with a man you loved, that did not share your feelings, was worse than living with a man you hated.

  “I do not care what you want. I will not have you risking your life, Aela. You are a fool.”

  “And what if I don’t come with you, Leif?” she asked. “What if Telandus has planned a strike against Cathalar and I die here? How bad would you feel then?”

  One of his eyebrows raised at this question, as if this was the strangest thing he’d ever heard. Aela didn’t break from her earnest expression, though. “And what if we are discovered in Telandus and you die there? I would feel just as bad.”

  “Doubtful,” Aela interjected. “You would most likely be dead along with me, and thus there would be no guilt to contend with.” She phrased her words sensibly, though they frightened her quite wholly. Dying prematurely was not anything she wanted to do, but if she had to do it, she’d rather do so fighting.

  “What a morbid way of looking at it,” Leif said thoughtfully.

  She smiled at him, and her eyes glittered with affection that she’d never let him see before. She had cards she hadn’t played yet, and now was the best time to play them. “I trust you, Leif. I have waited for a chance to leave this place, and now I have been given it.”

  Leif didn’t seem completely convinced, though her
look had obviously affected him to some degree. “I… thank you for that, princess. But you understand that your father would never agree, and would surely notice your absence. He would have me hanged.”

  “I would be dressed as a boy—we would be gone before he realized, and even then, he will have no way of knowing that I went with you and have not simply disappeared. When we return, I will ensure he knows you had nothing to do with it. My father is a reasonable man!”

  Her words were true, though Veyron may be so angry after the ordeal that he blamed people not involved. No, she shouldn’t think like that. Aela was almost certain that too much would have changed by the time they came back to Cathalar for it to matter, anyway.

  Yes, certainly when they returned her father would have bigger things about which to worry. Spies did not stay in foreign lands for suns, or even phases. No, they could be there for years yet. She was sure that she did not endanger Leif with her choice. “Please,” she begged.

  Leif’s dark eyes were conflicted, and she couldn’t help feeling a rush of emotion when she looked at him. Leaving, being with Leif for such a long period of time—Aela hadn’t the foggiest idea how she might handle it. Yet, she knew that she wanted to find out.

  “I… very well, Princess. If you can disguise yourself sufficiently. I will take care of you.” He bowed to her as he stood, and his eyes watched her with admiration and curiosity.

  “‘His love of this land is plentiful to restore the faith of the people, and the faith is all that we require. So said Farthal, the Magister of Light, the head of Magisters and Men.”

  -A Hero’s Peace v.i

  Chapter ix

  Calis Tsrali

  Calis had been pretty satisfied with his first, real visit to Dark District at sun up. Not only had he managed to find the Kilik boy from the dance, but he’d actually interacted with the Phantom Blade. He had not thought, at the time, that his worry over the state of the former’s well-being would be such a prominent staple in his mind.