by Rae Brooks
A hard fist came across his jaw, though the blow felt so familiar that Taeru hardly flinched. Lavus’s voice, though, silenced him. “Five years—causing social unrest, no doubt to try and make it easier for Cathalar to come here and invade!”
Taeru shook his head, and his eyes welled with tears. Don’t cry, you imbecile. You’re supposed to be strong! Rather than crying, he gritted his teeth and spit blood from his still torn and aching mouth. “No! Cathalar doesn’t want to invade here—you are the one that pushes constantly for the war! I need not weaken this country—if war happens, it will fall. I sought to empower your poorer citizens,” he cried, and after another blow, he continued, “I only stopped nobles who already frightened and injured people in Dark District!”
“Have you not realized that your word means nothing here, Cathalari?” The words stung, but Taeru realized that they were probably true—thus, his problem. “Tie him to the whipping post, now,” the words were flat, disinterested.
Taeru’s teeth clicked together, and he felt his body wrested from the relaxed position on his knees. With a quick movement, his wrists were fastened about the post, and he was pushed onto his knees so that his back was exposed to Lavus. “Stop this war, Lavus! Don’t you see how many innocent people you will kill? Everyone knows you can’t stand against Cathalar. This is madness!”
A whip bit into his already ravaged back, and he let out a weakened cry. One.
Taeru felt a faraway memory tugging at his mind. It gnawed at him, until he could see the scene before him. A small man huddled against the ground as Veyron hit him with a whip. The way he shouted out words was so confusing—Taeru stared at him, eyes wide and frightened. Then, the question that had haunted him as he’d watched the man squirm.
What were you counting?
Count the blows. It gives me something else to think about.
And so Taeru did, and he worked his mind in a direction away from the physical pain. In reality, it didn’t matter—not now.
Why did Lavus refuse to listen? Taeru could feel in the man’s anger that Lavus knew Taeru’s words were true, and yet he refused to believe them. The Magister—certainly she had something to do with Lavus’s inability to see reason against the war. But then, Lavus himself surely allowed that. “Please! Can’t you see you’re being manipulated?” he cried out again as the whip struck him. Two. “Lavus!”
“You have no right to say my name!” This time, the whip hit harder, and the thing snaked into his skin and tore it away. Three. This was more than a leather whip—perhaps it was barbed. Taeru had no idea, all he knew was that the pain made him sick. The venom from the Prisoner’s Bane had only begun to die down, and this new pain seemed to reignite it.
Taeru shook his head. He was having a hard time combating the tears that continued to form. He wasn’t sure if they were from the physical pain, or the possibility that he was about to fail every, single person in Telandus and Cathalar—his father, his brother, Aela, Calis… Calis. That amulet had worked, and Taeru knew that. Calis had not deceived Taeru—not in any manner. That was a thought to which he could cling, Taeru reminded himself. And he did.
Four. The whip struck him again, and Taeru bunkered down against it. His teeth slid against one another painfully. His wrists being bound upwards kept him from preparing well, though. “Please,” Taeru choked. “I know you’re angry with me… but please—think about this. Kill me if you have to, please… but stop the war. Stop it.” His eyes widened when the whip struck him again.
Five.
“Don’t pretend as though you aren’t only doing this for your own sake,” Lavus hissed. “Granted, I’m sure you’d love for me to surrender to Cathalar so that you could take Telandus. After all, weren’t you the crown prince?” Lavus snarled. Six.
“No!” Taeru cried. “I renounced my name. I’m not even a Lassau anymore!” Again, the whip, and it kept him from continuing his statement. Seven.
A chuckle came from behind him, no doubt Lavus, as everyone else seemed to be sitting in stunned silence. Taeru’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Aren’t you? So why is it that you kept your ring?” Eight.
Taeru had known that would ruin him. He should never have kept those mementos. If he wanted to be done with the Lassau name, then he ought to have been done with it. But he’d been too sentimental, too attached to Ryo, to Aela, and even to his father—to let it go. “No,” Taeru choked. “I kept the ring because they were my family. Because I loved them. If I ever planned on going back, I wouldn’t have brought it here—I would have left it there, in Cathalar—rather than risk exposure.” His voice was a whimper, and it was softened further by a new blow from the whip. Nine.
“Liar!” Lavus’s tongue was unforgiving, and Taeru flinched against it. Ten. “You pretend to be a hero—when you have deceived every, single person in Telandus. You are nothing but flea-bitten scum,” Lavus snapped. Eleven.
Taeru shook his head. “Cathalar doesn’t want this war! It can’t maintain a land so far from it, especially if the citizens didn’t want its rule. A war would be foolish—and keeping control would be nearly impossible. Revolts would spring up constantly… we’d have no way to control any of you, and within years, Telandus would be free, and Cathalar severely weakened.” Twelve. Taking a breath, and flinching, he persisted. “But, before that, your people would be the ones to pay the price!”
Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen… The whip came again and again. Taeru tried to focus his mind, and yet, the only thing he could see was Calis. He had never longed for anything the way he longed to be wrapped in the blond’s arms the way he had been the morning he’d seen the seedling. He had felt so safe—and that moon in the meadow—no, don’t think about that. It’ll make it worse. But he did, and Calis played through his mind like a haunted melody.
Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty… Finally, the blows were so entirely consistent that he couldn’t force himself to count any longer. On and on—the rhythm was strange, almost a beat but not quite. “Please!” he shouted again and again. “Listen! Why won’t you listen? You know you’re being manipulated! You know, and because you are a fool, you condemn your people to death.” Speaking through the blows got easier as he did it. There will be so much more death if you don’t listen, Lavus—please.
But the blows kept coming, and they didn’t stop until Taeru was reduced to soft whimpers and choked sobs. He fought with his tears, somehow keeping them from his eyes, but his sobs came without them. Ache for Calis—longing that would never be answered, and ache from the pain that felt as though it would never stop echoed through him. And lastly, guilt became him because he was going to fail—what more could he do? His words meant nothing to Telandans, and he ought to have known that before he left Cathalar like an arrogant fool.
His world faded from light to darkness, and he could hear the murmur of the crowd increasing. He wasn’t sure why, but as he began to wane from his own consciousness—they grew soft again. The seedling flashed before him, larger, and its tendrils reached for him. He tried to pull away, but when he did, the whip cut into his skin—back and forth—wake and sleep—sun and moon—light and dark.
Endless.
Then, at last, as one of the tendrils wrapped around his wrist, yanking him towards the tree, Taeru was forced up by his hair. His legs buckled instantly, but Lavus kept him where he was. Lavus, because Lavus was the one holding him, not the obelisk. The hand moved from his hair to his throat. He whimpered, choking blood up onto the raised stage.
He realized for the first time that they were on a large stage, standing before the wooden plank beneath the noose. A lever, that would be released while he was standing on the plank, sat to the side, and a rope hung ominously overhead. Finally, Taeru could see the people through blurred vision. Certainly there were a hundred of them standing there, staring up at him. He was in the Shining District, clearly, as half of them were guards and the other half were incredibly overdressed. “I think we’re finished here,” Lavus said.
Taeru realized that he’d already been untied from the post, and his hands were behind his back again.
Shoving him forward, Lavus said another sentence that Taeru couldn’t understand in his grogginess. Why couldn’t he help himself? Why couldn’t he help this land? Why was he the hero, when all he ever seemed to do was fall short? Pick someone else, Taeru begged. Don’t let them all die.
His head was lifted, and he felt the rope tighten around his neck. He winced, staring blankly out into a crowd of people he didn’t know. The rope about his neck reminded him that Tareth had cut him there earlier. “Lavus! Stop this!” a voice cried from somewhere. It was female, Taeru realized.
His eyes tried to find the voice, but his vision was so blurry and unreliable that he could scarcely see anyone at all. The voice, though, was distinguishable and it continued. “He doesn’t deserve this,” the voice whimpered. “You know he doesn’t! We all do! He has done more for this kingdom than any of our family has, and we are charged with controlling it.” Her voice was pained, Taeru realized. She is trying to stop Lavus. So someone listened!
Lavus’s response was cutting, and being so close to the man, it startled Taeru—even after being yelled at so frequently over the past few cycles. “You fool woman, silence yourself before I kill you here.”
“N-no!” Another female voice made itself known. “She is right! You—you are hurting an innocent man! He’s just a boy. He has saved lives in Dark District, even after knowing who he is—they protest. He is a hero, and you know it as well as I. Just as you know as well as I that a war will destroy us! You torture an innocent boy, and to what end? To punish your son—for falling in love with him? You don’t even care for your own son! How should we expect you to care for a kingdom?”
Taeru’s eyes widened, and finally, somehow, he found the woman that was speaking. She had black hair, and she was wholly beautiful. Her eyes were alight with determination, despite the fear that she held in her body. So maybe… the book talks of faith? Maybe… if I… I can’t die not knowing!
Taeru struggled, but a few guards were still holding him in place. “Guards, handle them!” There was a commotion, and Taeru could see people moving, and finally—the black-haired woman and another one were brought towards the front and forced onto their knees in bindings. The other woman was the blond from the torture room—Calis’s mother! Guilt wracked his body again. “Now, I am going to hang him, and the two of you are going to watch and understand that there is no other way. And then, I will hang the two of you for treason.” His words were pragmatic. Taeru’s eyes widened.
“Wh-what? That’s your wife! You can’t!” Panic shot through. Now he was going to be directly responsible for Calis’s losing his mother? No, no, no, no…
Without bothering to respond, Lavus shoved Taeru forward, and he stumbled onto the wooden plank. His body twisted in fear, and he glanced weakly up to the post that held the rope above him. Looking across, he saw a guard positioned by the lever that would split the plank and effectively hang him. With his hands bound, Taeru had no defense against it. Guilt and agony swarmed in his body, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Once more, he glanced out into the unknown crowd that he was forced to face.
But then, he saw a face he knew. Why was she here? She looked disheveled, as if she had just run a long ways. Her hair was in a ponytail, and her face was covered in dirt. She couldn’t be here, not now. Her body was frozen, and her eyes were wide—paralyzed with fear and disbelief. Oh, not this. Not here.
Their eyes locked, and his widened just as hers had. Panting, he tried to think of any way to stop this from happening. Why wouldn’t she look away? Where was Leif? To his side, Taeru heard the lever, and he felt the ground shift. He shut his eyes, trying to block it all out.
Aela…
“A Hero takes precedence in a moment, a singular moment, to do what he was meant to do.”
-A Hero’s Peace v.ii
Chapter liii
Calis Tsrali
Talon had never felt so entirely slow to Calis. His horse had always been the fastest animal on which Calis had ever laid eyes. But now, moving through the Shining District—which was entirely deserted—Talon was pathetic. The horse was the slowest creature in Elyst, aside from Lee’s prancing beast, which was just a few moments behind him. Still, Calis could think of nothing but that empty execution cell. Lavus had to have a reason for bringing Taeru out here, though, and it couldn’t have been just to hang him.
Finally, Calis could see it in the distance, his destination. No journey had ever seemed longer than this one, and he thought that his heart and soul would burst. No, Taeru had to be alright. He had to be. Talon’s hooves were all Calis could hear and feel physically, though mentally his mind raced with painful thoughts.
“How are you going so fast?” Lee asked, incredulous. How could Lee even say that at Calis’s current pace? He was sure that he was moving more slowly than he ever had before. And yet, Lee was struggling to keep up, which he rarely did. Perhaps Calis’s interpretation was still disoriented.
Blood on his clothes had seeped into his saddle and onto his horse, and he was uncomfortable, as he hadn’t bothered to ready Talon aside from the small saddle she’d already had. Someone had probably been stretching her legs as she hadn’t gotten much use in the past few cycles. Calis was uncomfortable riding, but just as he hadn’t had time to properly saddle her, he hadn’t had time to remove the saddle. His body hunched down further, closer to the horse, and he could see the blood that had gotten into her fur. He could feel and see nothing more, though. All he knew was that he had to reach the noose—and he was out of time. He had been out of time.
“Taeru,” he snarled.
He would destroy all of them. He would kill anyone he had to kill, anyone that stood in his way. In the distance, he could see the people. This was where they were—they were all gathered like cattle to watch a show that they knew was wrong. Monsters. With that thought, Calis pushed his horse to move more quickly.
They were nearly within range, and he knew it because he could hear the way Lee gasped. Clearly, his advisor was paying more attention to their surroundings than Calis was. Calis could scarcely think or see—he just rode. He rode because that was all he could do, because that was all that gave his life meaning. If he didn’t reach his destination in time, then he would have no reason to live. But he would—he had to. He had to.
Finally, Calis forced his eyes upwards, to try and see his target. His eyes widened at what he saw. The noose, the rope. There was something going on, but the only thing that really mattered was the slightly hunched figure—the one who had his neck in the noose. “Taeru!” Calis choked. Why was the horse so slow?
Suddenly, there were two horses in front of them. Knights, Calis realized. The men stared at them with angry eyes. “Stop, at once,” one of the men ordered. They had no idea how little time they had left to live, really, and Calis felt no remorse for that. In fact, he could feel his grip on reality slipping as he observed the men before him. He would destroy them. Because they wanted Taeru’s death just like everyone in that square.
Grinding his teeth, Calis stared into the knight’s eyes, and the world faded away. All that existed was the men and the horses before him. One man had a bow, and the other had a sword and shield. The man that had his sword out—though not his shield—was obviously prepared for a fight. Nevertheless, he didn’t expect to be attacked directly. He expected a conversation, and Calis wasn’t feeling particularly talkative. While the man still held his sword to the side, Calis took advantage and rushed Talon towards the side of the other horse. Without pause or thought, Calis’s blade caught the man’s throat, and he was removed from the horse at once.
Turning, Calis saw Lee release the dagger, and it twisted and spun until it lodged into the other knight’s eye socket. Dead in a beat, the man fell from his horse. The two horses, unable to do anything without their riders, neighed and moved restlessly. “Calis!” Lee’s voice was so pained and desperate th
at Calis knew precisely what had happened. He leapt from Talon, stumbling to his knees before the man with the bow. He wrested the bow from the man’s shoulder, and he grabbed an arrow, notching it.
He hadn’t been much for archery as he had always preferred melee, but in this moment, this bow was his only chance for life. Pulling the string, he whirled his body, looking towards that noose. He could see the rope above everything else, as though it was glowing, thick, and pleading to be struck. He narrowed his eyes, staring down the arrow—he was on higher ground, and the distance wasn’t long enough for the arrow to stop before it cut the rope. Calis aimed above his mark, grinding his teeth. He released the arrow, and he could see Taeru’s body begin to fall as the arrow sailed through the air.
“TAERU!”
“Aleia had the beginnings of villainy, and the Magisters had always known that. Aleia was their dark side, and the hero showed them their folly.”
-A Hero’s Peace v.i
Chapter liv
Aela Lassau
“Leif,” Aela choked. The guards were chasing them, and if they didn’t part ways, then they would doubtlessly be caught. Her panic was rising, and thoughts of Katt and Alyx pulsed through her mind ruthlessly. “Leif—no, I can’t leave you now.” She had looked back just once, though she had seen those bodies hanging from the noose. It had been several shifts ago since she’d been running, but the image was still vivid.
Leif shook his head, and his jaw clenched as he brought her into a quick embrace. His arms felt safe, and she could have melted into him in that moment. Her eyes blurred with tears, and she tried desperately to focus solely on him—the only source of happiness in this world of impending darkness.
The book burned in her mind, though she had left it at Katt’s house. Surely, it would be safe, but she would have to find a way to get back to it. Now, her girl disguise would be next to useless. She had been spotted with Leif, after all. “We have to,” Leif finally said. “I’ll be fine. And they will pursue me. Get as far away from me as you can, and then I will find you. You have my word.” He sounded so confident, and it shook Aela’s fear.