“Let me heal you,” Numa said sweetly. “Just give me your permission and I will make you whole once again. I will remake your hand so that you can feel with it just as you always have. I will restore your eye so you may see perfectly once again.”
“Heal me, my love,” Gemynd replied, eager to see her beauty with two good eyes and feel her body with two good hands.
And, just like that, he was healed. He stretched and wiggled his fingers, marveling at them. They were exactly as they’d been before. Every line, crease and bump was there.
“As long as I have you, there is no need to fear anything,” he said and stood, pulling Numa into his arms.
Numa pulled back, looking perplexed. “For some reason, the healing was not complete,” she said and tenderly touched his right eyebrow. “A scar remains here.”
Gemynd reached up and traced a new crevice from above his eyebrow, over his eyelid and down to the middle of his cheek. “I like it,” he said with a grin. “A new scar is always a welcome thing.”
“You look less like your father now,” Numa said.
“I am still the handsomer of the two,” Golath said, lifting an oil lamp as he leaned in close to inspect Gemynd’s face.
When he did, Gemynd saw something in his father’s eyes that he had never seen before. It was fear. Raw, unmasked fear.
“Father?” Gemynd asked with alarm.
Golath reached out and touched Gemynd’s new scar. Gemynd saw his bottom lip tremble even though he had quickly turned away to set the oil lamp on the ground.
“What is it, Father?” Gemynd asked again, growing more concerned by the second.
“I thought I had lost you,” Golath said and pressed his lips hard into a straight line. “I insisted that Numa save the library before she saved the people. As unpleasant as it is to admit, Todor could survive without me, without you, without any of us. But Todor needs our knowledge. The library had to survive.”
“The library!” Gemynd said with a gasp. “I had not considered it. You were wise to save it, Father.”
“Then I saw that rock fall on you,” Golath continued. “And, for a moment, everything else lost its importance. The library ceased to matter. War ceased to matter. Taking the throne ceased to matter. All that mattered in that moment was you. I was ready to give up everything so long as I did not lose my son.”
“You did not lose me, Father,” Gemynd said, feeling awkward at Golath’s unusual display of emotion.
Golath sighed, then reached out and pulled Gemynd into an embrace. “Ambition can so tightly focus the eye that it can see nothing beyond a single point,” Golath said. “I have learned more in the last few moments than I had in the lifetime before that.”
Gemynd was not entirely sure what Golath meant by that, but he was glad for the reassurance of his father’s love. “I am well,” he said, wanting to put Golath’s mind at ease.
“Yes,” Golath said, pulling back. Then he reached out and took Numa’s hand. “I am indebted to you again. You have my heart, my daughter. Thank you.”
Numa glanced at Golath’s chest and smiled. “You cannot see it,” she said. “But there is real love between us now.”
“I can feel it,” Golath answered. “And you shall have your peace council, you clever enchantress.”
“Really?” Numa asked, looking at Gemynd with pure Joy.
Golath nodded. “I will need you to stay close, though,” he said. “I do not trust that this isn’t some plan to entrap Gemynd or myself. I am certain the people still want retribution for Aerie. We will go to Tolnick, but at the slightest hint of danger I will need you to take us from there.”
“Of course,” Numa answered. “You have my word.”
“Good. Then let us all retire for the night. I will speak to my people of our new plans in the morning.”
As Golath walked from the sleeping house, Gemynd collapsed again onto the bedsack. He was exhausted. The only thing he wanted was to have his wife in his arms as he fell asleep in the replica of his childhood home.
“Come, rest with me,” he said.
Numa happily obliged and snuggled up next to him, sleep overtaking her in a matter of moments.
As Gemynd lay with Numa in his arms, listening to the peaceful, rhythmic breaths of her sleeping, he thought about how all was right and good in his life in that moment. For longer than he could remember, there was no fear or hurt looming over his head. He was free to be at peace. He would finally be able to rest.
So why was he still awake?
It was the council idea. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was his father truly in favor of it now? It was unlike Golath to change his mind, and he was not one to settle for less than he had intended. Gemynd found it difficult to believe that he would truly be willing to give up his lifelong plans of taking the throne so easily.
Gemynd directed his mind to his father and silently said, “Are you truly in favor of the peace council?”
“We have no other choice at this time,” Golath replied. “Our battle plans lay in ruins beneath six hundred hands of sand, and there is no point in going to war without the support of our people. They want the council and so the council it is.”
“But we could convince them otherwise. And with our powers, we could rebuild Iturtia and the tunnels in a matter of days.” Gemynd persisted.
“Use your wisdom, son,” Golath said. “Tomorrow we march to Tolnick, only rather than fight our way in, we’ve been invited. We will come nearer to the throne than we have ever been before. What better position is there?”
“I find it difficult to believe that you would give up all that you’ve worked for. That you would give up the crown.”
“In that moment when I thought I had lost you, my perception was changed,” Golath said. “I have a different view of what is important, and I have a new plan.”
“Does your new plan involve sitting on a council of equals?” Gemynd asked.
Golath was silent for several moments. “Equality is a myth, my son,” he replied at last. “It is as artificial as the Truths themselves. And, like the Truths, equality will divide the council into those who believe and those who have taken control.”
Soman
Soman watched the back of his father’s helmet bob up and down as he marched behind him. Every bit of pomp and fanfare that could be found in Zoban had been brought out for the grand parade to Tolnick. Archigadh said that the possibility of bringing lasting peace to Todor was an occasion that ought to be celebrated as nothing ever had before.
And celebrate he did.
Nearly half of the Zobanite soldiers, and all of the Terrenes from Zoban, joined the parade. Each Zobanite soldier was in full-dress armor, polished to a blinding gleam. They marched in a formation of a square turned on its point, the four corners symbolizing the four races of Todor brought together in equality. Bands of drum and pipe players wove around and through the formation, bringing festive music to the ears of everyone around. Flag performers waved ribbons of blue, green, red and white. Red for Zobanites, green for Empyreans, blue for Iturtians and white for Terrenes. Flower dancers threw petals of the same four colors as they danced along, creating an ever-falling shower of beauty.
Terrenes—both workers and refugees alike—followed behind the Zobanite formation. Most rode on horseback in order to keep pace with fast-moving Zobanites, but some were on foot, running trays of food and drink to keep the soldiers fortified for the long march.
“Bird legs and fresh bread!” a worker called as he passed in front of Soman carrying a large tray.
“Do not walk in front of me!” Soman snapped, breaking stride in order to stop himself from smashing into the man.
“My apologies, sir,” the man said as he scrambled out of the way.
“In the future, pay attention to where you walk,” Soman grumbled.
Soman had been short-tempered and easily annoyed since the parade began. He was against the peace council and could not bring himself to feel celebratory ab
out it. It was bad enough that he had to attend the council in the first place, but now he was forced to march all the way to Tolnick in over three hundred pounds of armor.
All Soman seemed able to think about was how heavy and stifling his armor felt, and how much he would love to just return to his soft bed. Twice he’d begun to wonder if his fatigue was due to the illness in his body, but he rejected the idea as soon as it had come. He refused to consider that his father was right and he was not up to the task of leading the forces.
“Tea time,” Keeper Sam said, running breathlessly up to Soman with a wooden cup in his hands.
“You should be on a horse,” Soman said as he took the cup and drained it, glad to keep his fever at bay. “This journey is too much to ask of your tiny legs.”
Sam pressed his lips together in a look of displeasure. “My legs have made the trip before,” he replied. “I walked all the way from Aerie to Zoban, if you’ll recall. And I even managed to climb to the top of Zoban mountain on these very same legs.”
“Quite right,” Soman agreed. “Still, if our pace becomes too brisk for you, you must promise to find someone to ride with.”
“I will promise no such thing,” Sam said hastily. “While I embrace most of life’s adventures, I do draw the line at sitting astride an enormous beast. It is unnatural and unsettling.”
“You are afraid of horses?” Soman asked, astonished. He had come to rely upon Keeper Sam as the solver of problems. He had not imagined the man would be afraid of something as mundane as a horse.
Sam shrugged and Soman looked down at his small legs, moving so quickly they were nearly a blur. He was surely taking ten steps for every one of Soman’s. “It is not a matter of fear, really,” Sam protested. “I simply prefer to move about under my own power.”
“Well, should you find that your own power has grown weary and you still prefer to not ride a horse, I will carry you,” Soman offered.
“Thank you, friend, but I assure you, I will be just fine,” Sam replied, then his tone turned suddenly serious. “Soman, there is something I must tell you before we reach Tolnick.”
“What is it?” Soman asked.
“I have never been untruthful with you and I beg you to never question my loyalty,” Sam began, but was interrupted by a woman on horseback who rode right up to them.
“There you are, Keeper Sam,” the woman said as she slowed her horse to fall in step with Soman. The horse was bedecked in a pure white, silken trapper with blue, red and green ribbons braided around the reins. Soman recognized the woman as Molly, Gemynd’s mother, though she appeared to be much younger than when he’d last seen her.
“Joyous day, Molly,” Keeper Sam greeted her. “You were looking for me?”
“I have something important to ask of you,” she said, sounding breathless.
“Ask away,” Sam replied.
“As I understand it, you will be the representative of the Terrenes at the peace council, is that correct?”
Sam nodded. “Yes. I have asked if there are any others who would prefer to serve in my stead, but no one has come forward.”
Molly nodded distractedly. “I agree you are the best one for the task,” she said. “It should be a Keeper. A Keeper from Aerie. But I have also heard people say that you will need someone to stand as your second.”
“That is correct,” Sam agreed. “All four representatives will be required to have seconds. There must be a representative from each race on the council at all times. In the event that something were to happen to me, another Terrene would need to be at the ready to step into my place immediately.”
“I want to be your second,” Molly blurted.
Soman watched as Sam looked up at her, his eyebrows drawn together in a look of concern. “I have not yet decided on my second,” he answered simply.
“Choose me,” she pressed. “I learn quickly. I can watch you for one day and know what would be expected of me in your absence.”
“Why do you want to do this?” Sam asked.
Molly looked over her shoulder as though someone might be there, listening. “I could tell you lies about my desire to help Todor become the best it can be, but I know you would see right through that,” she said. “The truth is: for all intents and purposes, Golath is still my husband, even though I have not seen him in over two decades. And my son will surely be standing as his second. I simply wish for the opportunity to be near to both of them as I have not been in so very long. Even though my reasons for desiring the position are personal, I give you my word that I will take my position as your second most seriously.”
“I will consider it,” Sam replied, staring straight ahead.
“Thank you, Keeper,” Molly said with a slight bow then turned her horse back to join the other Terrenes.
Soman waited until Molly was too far back to hear, then he turned to Sam. “You cannot truly consider her for your second,” he said.
“I am considering it,” Sam replied simply.
“Then if something happens to you, Golath’s family will make up two-thirds of the council. It’s absurd!” Soman snapped then clenched his jaw tightly. “I am beginning to wonder if you and my father are Golath’s agents in disguise. You both seem so eager to hand control of Todor over to him.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth,” Sam said, a look of wounding in his eyes. “Soman, you can rely on my love and devotion to you. It’s important to me that you know that. I am considering Molly as my second because she may well be the trustworthiest Terrene I know. She was honest about her reason for wanting to be my second. I am aware of her history with Golath and I know that she has had many opportunities to be with him, but time and again she chose Aerie. She has always put the Terrene way of life first. I believe she would even choose it over her own son if necessary. Molly is a strong woman and I feel she is up to the task of being my second. I see no harm in allowing her proximity to her family.”
“I see plenty of harm in it,” Soman retorted. “I don’t believe you’ve thought this through. What if something happens to you and Golath? Surely you see the dangers in having a council made up of Gemynd, Molly, Numa and Archigadh. That is practically a family reunion, not a council of equals. Numa may be Empyrean and this may all be about creating her vision of Todor, but she has made no secret of the fact that her loyalties lie with Iturtia. Now I am again faced with the fact that this entire peace council reeks of suspicion.”
“Settle yourself, Soman,” Sam advised. “As you’ve said yourself time and again, it’s not your decision to make. Have faith in your father. Have faith in me. Your father is not blind to Iturtian ways and he has said he is prepared to go to war if the peace council does not work. Trust in him to be the leader of your people.”
“Does he know that you are considering Molly as your second?” Soman asked, aware that his father had surely overheard the entire conversation.
Sam glanced at Archigadh who marched only a few hands in front of them. “I suspect he does,” he replied then sighed. “The truth is: no one else has stepped forward. She is the only one willing to be my second. It seems that the Terrenes are all for the peace council, as long as they don’t have to be part of it.”
Soman wrinkled his brows. “But if the council is to be the new way of Todor, there will come a day when both you and Molly will need to be replaced. Do you think another Terrene will step up then?”
Sam shrugged but never got the chance to answer.
“Move to the back, wee Keeper,” Archigadh growled from in front of them. “You are ruining my formation.”
“As I’m sure you heard, Sam may choose Golath’s wife as his second on the council,” Soman said as Keeper Sam turned towards the back of the formation.
“Aye,” Archigadh replied.
“Please tell me that you understand the danger of Molly being Keeper Sam’s second,” Soman pressed.
“I have no fear of that woman,” Archigadh replied simply. “Terrenes pose no threat to Zoba
nites, lad. Have you forgotten your powers?”
“If there is any Terrene we should be wary of, it’s her,” Soman said. “Not because of her powers, but because of her associations.”
“She has as much reason as anyone to want peace,” Archigadh said with a sigh. “In fact, you seem to be the only one who does not want the council to succeed.”
Soman let his eyes slip closed, and he marched blindly for several steps. His father was right. He didn’t want the council to succeed. “I want more for Zoban than a quarter of the ruling power of the land,” he said. “If our taking the throne would be too dangerous for Terrenes, then let us separate entirely from Todor. You suggested it yourself once. We could leave the Terrenes and Iturtians to sort things out themselves. We could create our own Kingdom of Zoban.”
“Aye,” Archigadh replied. “That we could. But that is not what you truly want.”
“I want it more than the peace council,” Soman snapped.
“I’m beginning to think that I ought to smack your big, bare, backside right in front of this whole parade,” Archigadh rumbled. “Your thoughts are not truly for peace or war. You are pouting because you didn’t get your way, you didn’t get what you wanted. I’m not blind to what’s really upset you: you can’t have Numa. You’re like a mere child in a tizzy because he has to share his toys. But that red-headed goddess was never your toy to begin with, was she? And now you’re intent on making the rest of us suffer through your whining because she didn’t choose you.”
Soman felt his cheeks heat and his eyes widen. “There was a time when she was my friend; a time when I could have relied on her help,” he said, not bothering to deny his father’s accusations. “Although I know she’s always loved him more, there was a time when she would not have chosen one of us over the other.”
“Well, lad, if that is true, then why did she?” Archigadh asked, his pace quickening. “What made her choose now?”
Soman refused to answer. Partly because he didn’t know the answer, and partly because he did not want to consider that it might have been his fault. Had he pushed her too far? Had he been too rigid on his insistence that there be a divide between Iturtia and Zoban? If there had never been a rivalry between Iturtia and Zoban, there would not be a threat of war now and Numa would not have had to choose sides. “What made Iturtians and Zobanites enemies in the first place?” he asked aloud.
Disintegration: The Todor Trilogy, Book Two Page 19