Divided

by Rae Brooks

  Taeru was sure that Calis had muttered something in response, but being unable to pull his consciousness back to him—Taeru wasn’t sure what. He was able to think how stunned Alyx and Juliet were going to be when they saw Calis.

  Calis was contented to take him into the building, regardless, and he didn’t seem at all worried about the women’s reactions to him. Taeru heard the moment Alyx saw him. There was a mix between a gasp and a squeal. Taeru forced himself to wake up enough to glance at her, and he found that one of his eyes closed without reason. “Kilik,” she squeaked. Still, her eyes were drawn to the prince holding him.

  “Sorry for the intrusion, but your friend needed help getting home, and I didn’t trust him to get to the house by himself,” the words were matter-of-fact, but Taeru felt mildly insulted by them.

  In another moment, there was another gasp, and Taeru managed to make his eyes find Juliet. She looked stricken. “Kilik?” she said warily, and her eyes were loyally glued to his form. Taeru finally forced his words to come back to him.

  “I’m okay,” Taeru answered weakly.

  “Y-you are… what did you do to him?” Juliet yelped. Taeru winced at the accusation in her voice. If Calis needed a reason to have them all executed, he had it now.

  Nevertheless, the patience that Calis showed was admirable. “I didn’t hurt him,” Calis spoke with that strange irritation that he’d shown when Taeru had explained what had happened to his leg. Still, he didn’t seem as though he were going to kill anyone yet. “I would not hurt him,” and when Calis said the words, they sounded horrified—insulted.

  “He saved me,” Taeru affirmed dutifully.

  Alyx jumped forward, and her eyes were alight with admiration and wonder. Taeru wouldn’t have been surprised if the blond had torn Taeru out of the prince’s arms, thrown him to the floor, and tried to bear Calis’s children right then. “But you! You are Calis Tsrali—the prince!”

  “I am,” Calis said warily. His patience was being tried, but he seemed composed enough so that Taeru didn’t feel any need to protect Alyx and Juliet. He did wish they weren’t insulting the prince, though. Even if Calis was trying to get information from him, they were doing nothing to stop it. “I apologize for not being up front with you before, but the time didn’t permit that I explain my identity. Now is probably not the best time, either—Kilik needs attention,” he said firmly.

  “So he does,” Juliet acknowledged. “Come, bring him here.” Her eyes lingered for a moment on Taeru, and he wondered if she noticed how Calis seemed to be clutching him to his chest. Taeru felt a little odd, but he’d been trying to ignore the tightness—the protectiveness—of the hold. Perhaps Taeru just wanted to believe it was real, after all—he wasn’t sure anyone had cared for him to this degree before. Juliet had certainly healed him, but he’d always been responsible for appearing at the right times and holding out until she was available.

  Calis had dropped everything, and he had even stopped the noblemen who were hurting Taeru. That was not something Taeru was sure he’d ever experienced, and he doubted he ever would again. Then, there was the way Calis was holding him—as though Taeru were some priceless relic that had to be handled with the utmost care and protection.

  Pain washed over him when he tried to adjust his body, and instead of doing what he wanted, his head fell feebly against Calis’s shoulder. In a moment, they had entered Juliet’s healing room, and he felt Calis lowering him onto the table. Taeru had the instinctive reaction to cling to Calis, but he ignored it. Though, the manner in which Calis released him was reluctant, and the blue-green eyes hung on his form for longer than necessary. “Can you help him?” Calis asked apprehensively.

  Juliet seemed amused, and even as consciousness began to leave him entirely, Taeru saw the healer’s soft smile. “I can,” she answered. “I apologize for the accusation, your highness—I just… perhaps I should rethink my opinion of all men of noble birth.”

  “I would not be so quick to revise your cautions, my lady,” Calis said thoughtfully, “nobles are the reason he is injured.” Calis sounded so completely angry. Taeru felt himself shiver at the tone. He was sure that he never wanted to be on the wrong end of that wrath.

  This only seemed to make Juliet even more pleased with the overly dressed man that had entered her home. “You are right,” she said, “but I should not have accused you, seeing the way you held him with such fervor.” Calis had been holding him with what appeared to be incredible desperation. Taeru felt his cheeks heat up again, though they likely assumed he was already unconscious.

  “Do not worry yourself with it. Just heal him, and you will have my eternal gratitude.” The words made little sense. Why would Taeru’s healing make Calis eternally grateful? Taeru was nothing to Calis—after all, Calis was a Tsrali and therefore a prince of Telandus. Not only that, but he’d spent far too much time saving Taeru’s life already.

  Juliet laughed. “My, my, your highness! And I thought Tsrali was a name that could not be associated with chivalry.” the healer said with growing ease and amusement. Taeru was sure that he should be unconscious for this. Surely he was delusional.

  “Do not mistake my affections for chivalry, madam,” the other voice answered without pause.

  “How direct you are,” Juliet said whimsically.

  At last, he could feel the tunnel of unconsciousness easing its way into his mind and the voices in the room seemed to get further and further away. “There isn’t any reason to hide what you’ve clearly already seen, my lady,” someone said.

  “Please, call me Juliet. I am afraid I cannot uphold the formalities you know, as I’ve never had a prince in my home before…”

  “And upon the insult, Aleia, the Magister of Manipulation and No Longer Direction, vowed revenge upon the Hero, at any cost.”

  -A Hero’s Peace, v.i

  Chapter xv

  Ryo Lassau

  The wrath of a king was never easy to endure, but this particular occasion made it far worse. Veyron was mad with rage as he stormed about the halls, calling out to a daughter that would surely never answer him. Ryo searched for Aela in every place he knew to search, but even her Lower Town hangouts had not seen her. Ryo should have known his fool sister would find a way to go with the spy party—she had always had feelings for Leif Firenz. Even when they had been children, Taeru and Ryo had joked that the two of them would be married.

  Leif and Aela would never have accepted that. Well, Leif may have in his later years, but Aela was always very firm in her denial. But the idea of Leif running away to Telandus had clearly been too hard on Ryo’s sister, and she had found some way to go with them. Despite the parties that had been sent out to retrieve the spies, nothing had come back yet. Ryo didn’t even know if they’d find them. Their course was not set, and they would be working to stay out of sight. “How could she do this?” Veyron bellowed, anger resonating through his voice.

  Ryo was now the one who had to bear the brunt of the assault, as he was the only child of Veyron’s that had not been inclined to whisk himself away to some remote land. Taeru was partially to blame for this, Ryo knew. His little brother had always wanted to get out of Cathalar, or rather, away from the war that approached. Taeru had spent his entire life trying to convince every noble he met that the war was a bad idea.

  Still, even Taeru had come to see that there was nothing he could do. Even the most saintly of men had to accept that everything Lavus was doing to Cathalar was a declaration of war. At last, Taeru had accepted that point, though he’d cautioned Ryo constantly to be careful—and Taeru had left.

  The two of them had discussed briefly where Taeru might go, but the crown prince hadn’t the foggiest idea. He only knew that he wanted to leave, and that at some point, he wanted to find a way to stop this war before it occurred. Ryo had actually had a little faith in his brother when he’d left. It made little sense, though, as Taeru was only thirteen at the time, and the odds of him making it through the wilderness with very
few supplies were not good.

  Still, Ryo didn’t like to think that anything had happened to Taeru. After all, Veyron had wanted Taeru to rule for many reasons. He was more competent in nearly every regard, and even if he hadn’t been the greatest politician in the world—he had been a good person. If a trader had run into Taeru, he would be hard-pressed to want to kill him. Taeru just exuded happiness, and the kindness that he’d shown even the commonest of people was extraordinary.

  The loss of Aela had brought the loss of Taeru back into Ryo’s mind, and back into Veyron’s. The king had been prattling endlessly for several shifts now about where Aela could have gone. They had searched everywhere, and no one had seen or heard from her since the spy caravan had left. If Aela hadn’t pretended to be sick, then they would have noticed her absence soon enough to draw the spies back.

  She had, though, because she was as clever as Taeru—and now they had no means of pursuing the spy troupe without alerting Telandan guards, or other traders, that the caravan was associated with Cathalar. Veyron knew that, fortunately, and he hadn’t foolishly sent men to find her. Nevertheless, the king was distraught—the idea of his only daughter in the same land as Lavus? That would horrify even the coldest of fathers.

  “She would not have left if he had been here,” Veyron hissed at no one in particular. Everyone was staring at the king, half expecting him to morph into some dragon creature and destroy all of them. “I should never have let him go!”

  “It has been five years since Taeru left,” Ryo answered dutifully. This was certainly not all Taeru’s fault, though it was impossible to deny that he had played some part in Aela’s decision to leave.

  Veyron glared at his last remaining son. “I’m aware of that, Ryo,” he answered snappily. “But do not think me so stupid as to believe that she had forgotten him. She fantasized about him. She longed to be with him. When I had my men follow her into Lower Town, she was constantly trying to discuss him with the commoners.”

  The voice was shaking, trembling in fact. Veyron was furious, and afraid of losing Aela. She was his little girl, and even if they had come to blows on many occasions, Veyron had loved Aela—and she him. But now she had left with a spy caravan and would soon be within the walls of Telandus. “Aela did what she felt she needed to,” Ryo said weakly.

  That was going to be of little consolation if anything happened to the poor girl. Taeru had been competent, but while Aela was a clever girl—she was not fit for life on the road. Ryo knew that she’d been trained to wield a sword and bow, but she was no expert with the sword—as all of her lessons had been in secret.

  Aela knew how to use a bow like most archers, but a bow could not save a life if the enemy got close. She would be in trouble if she were cornered, or even if the enemy got close enough to her. Ryo would have to depend on Leif’s affections for the princess to ensure her survival. “I grow tired of you children and what you feel you need to do. At least your brother had the decency to tell me that he wanted to abandon everything to go on some fool’s errand.”

  Taeru had been less cowardly than Aela in that regard. Still, that didn’t mean that Veyron wasn’t just as mad as he was now. Maybe not as afraid, but just as angry. “Leif Firenz cares very much for Aela,” Ryo said, “and I do not think he would let harm come to her.”

  “Magisters help me if anything does,” Veyron said weakly.

  “Journeys each separate, but destined to intertwine.”

  -A Hero’s Peace v.ii

  Chapter xvi

  Aela Lassau

  The wagon finally came to a slow stop. They had left the road some time ago to try and find a suitable place for camp. They would not be at the next town for a few suns yet, and that meant camping on the ground. This wasn’t the first time they had to stop to camp, though Aela was none more prepared for it this time.

  The last time had consisted of the men sitting about the fire telling war stories to which she couldn’t hope to relate. She had simply feigned tiredness and gotten out of it that time, but she was certain it would look suspicious if she did so again. Then, there was the matter of Leif, who had been avoiding her unswervingly.

  She sighed. He was the reason she was here, but his shock at her appearance had not dimmed in the past two cycles. She wished fervently that she could find a time to talk to him, but he always seemed preoccupied with other things. Leif was never one to let himself get too involved in trivial matters, either, so she was confident that he was avoiding her. What harm did he think talking to her would cause? She was here, now. He was only making her feel estranged by ignoring her.

  The driver of the wagon came around with a light smile and informed them all what they already knew—that they would be camping here for the moon shifts. A few of the men got out before Aela, and she didn’t bother trying to wait for Leif as she had in the past—he always found a way to circumnavigate her, even in the small extent of the wagon.

  When she hopped out, she surveyed the surroundings. They had been moving for quite some time, in fact, within the next cycle they would be in Telandus. They hadn’t had any problems, and all the traders they’d run into had been quite amiable. Now they were within a savannah that would inevitably end at the gates of Telandus. Cathalar’s rival city had far more fields and trees surrounding it than their current location did, however.

  The wagon driver had done well to find the few trees that dotted the area so that they wouldn’t be sleeping in plain sight. There was a nearby cliff side where they could easily set up the fire. That way, at least one of their sides would be protected. “Teral,” Leif said pointedly, “why don’t you take a few men and see if you can’t get some decent wood for a fire?”

  Wild animals on the savannah were not at all attracted to fires, and in fact, up until this point—Aela wasn’t sure she’d seen a single predator. She wished she hadn’t thought that, surely they would run into one now. When Teral nodded his head, Leif grabbed several supplies out of the wagon. “I’ll set up the tent.”

  Aela, seeing this as an opportunity that could easily have been ruined by any of the other men offering to help, leapt at it. “I’ll help,” she said earnestly. Leif’s dark eyes held hers for a moment, but then he nodded and they headed towards the cliff. The camp consisted of three tents, which they had to erect, and though Leif didn’t seem to want to talk to Aela, he had insisted on being in the same tent as her every moon they camped.

  Leif began to remove the first set of support sticks from the bag and set them in their proper locations. Aela joined him momentarily, helping to keep the sticks steady as he worked. Learning how to set up a tent was something that Taeru had taught her long ago, and Aela would never forget one of her favorite brother’s lessons. Many of them had come in handy on this trip, and she was sure that she hadn’t expended all of them yet.

  As they worked in silence, Aela tried to think of a way to speak to Leif. The entire concept felt awkward—and she realized that Leif’s avoidance of her may have been because he didn’t want her to drop her cover. She wasn’t supposed to be Aela, so why should she crave Leif’s attentions any more than the other men? She should be completely in character, but there was something entirely impossible about that. She couldn’t forget who she was—after all, Aela Lassau was just as competent as any Aelic Eirgold was. Out of the corner of her eye, Aela could see that Patea and a few of the other men had set out to survey their surroundings for any traders in the area.

  This was a chance to talk to Leif as Aela, and one that she would probably not have again soon. Still, though, the way Leif worked as though his life depended on it made her feel strange about saying anything at all. She was simply glad to be helping him, really, and a few times, he muttered a quick ‘thank you’ when she managed to drill a stick into place. Tents weren’t really that difficult to construct—all they consisted of were a few sticks pushed together in such a way that they could support the leather skin that was laid over them.

  Aela glanced up at the sky, n
oting that the tents might actually be necessary on this particular moon. The clouds had gathered and were dark against the sky that was increasingly dim as the sun faded from it. When they finished the second tent, Leif’s eyes met Aela’s for a long moment. She was certain that he was going to speak to her, but then he moved to grab the next set of sticks and they followed the same process.

  This time, she let him handle most of the sticks, and instead ran her fingers over the soft leather hide. She thought absently about the animal that had been killed to make it. From the feel of it, she’d assume some kind of deer. The cover was certainly not as silky as the pelt of a lion or other predator would suggest. Unfortunately, if they had a pelt like that with them, then bandits would be drawn to them, and Telandan guardsmen may view them as suspicious. Therefore, they used only minimal supplies.

  At last, Leif finished the setup, and Aela draped the hide over the final tent. She adjusted it so that the door was easily accessible, and when she finished, she looked up to see Leif staring at her with those same hard, blue eyes. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said simply and harshly.

  Aela frowned at him. She preferred being ignored to being told that she couldn’t be here. After all, what were they going to do now? Her father must already know she was gone. “Well, I’m here and there isn’t anything you can do about it now!” she hissed.

  “Why would you do this to me?” Leif said weakly. “If anything happens to you, this is going to be my fault for not just telling you no!”

  Aela let out a sharp breath. She was not going to be sent on a guilt trip by Leif Firenz, of all people. “Well, if that should happen, comfort yourself with the knowledge that I would have come whether or not you said no! And I would have never spoken to you again if you had said a word to my father.”