The Watchers in Exile

by Barbara V. Evers

  Decisiveness straightened Adana’s back. She must live up to this man’s expectations, for him and for all the other children of her kingdom. The weight of her responsibilities pressed down on her, but she welcomed it. She would live up to her mother’s legacy.

  “Brother Honest, I regret the pain Maligon’s Rebellion caused you.” She folded her hands in her lap and focused her attention on the man. “Unfortunately, he still threatens us. I would like to know more about the women who claimed to be Watchers who robbed your village of its stores.” She looked around at the gathered people in the room—Montee, Joannu, Elayne, Jerold, Sinti, Veana—her heart thankful for each person’s presence. “But first, we should introduce ourselves.” She turned toward Sir Jerold, unsure if his identity was known to the teacher or not. “Would you do the honors?”

  * * *

  Around midday, Adana wandered out to the giraffe paddock. The story of Jerold’s escape from Maligon amazed her. The teacher in her dream saved royalty as a habit, it would seem. The news that the Keeper of the Faith, Father Tonch, had alerted Honest to Jerold’s need provided a short moment of peace. And Honest had confirmed that Tonch was safe in Adana’s View.

  She entered the large, wooden barn-like structure, amazed that it looked brand new. Honest assured them it had been built over ten years earlier at a suggestion from Mother Sariah. The wood gleamed from polish. Fresh hay, scattered over the floor, provided soft bedding for the giraffes. Two feeding trays and water troughs hung from the walls at the height of the giraffes’ heads. Glume fussed over his charges, checking the water troughs and testing the quality of the vegetation provided for their meals.

  He smiled in satisfaction. The Roshar teachers had taken great care in preparing for this long-awaited day.

  The information gleaned from their meeting with Brother Honest still shocked her. She regretted the message she must try to send to Kiffen through Am’brosia and Bai’dish. How would Kassa respond? The Watchers who had ransacked the village of Roshar a few days ago referred to Samantha as the rightful First Vision.

  Kassa’s daughter, Samantha, guilty of treachery. She had never enjoyed the Watcher’s presence, but she never suspected any disloyalty from her either. The other name Honest had mentioned was Kalara. Adana recalled her from the Kingdoms Council held in Elwar soon after her mother’s death. Kalara’s startled reaction to some of the information shared, and her quick excuse to depart once the council ended, now held a different meaning.

  For a brief moment, Montee had dropped her Watcher’s stoic visage, looking shocked and sickened over the revelation of both names. Most knew Samantha and Montee began their training together and had formed a quick bond of friendship. That bond hadn’t survived Montee’s promotion to First Vision.

  It was ironic. Adana’s main disadvantage, her absence from Moniah and her troops, had become an advantage in learning of these traitors. The knowledge of Samantha’s treachery gave Adana a sense of relief, though. She had worried over why she disliked someone so high in the ranks and so closely related to the last two First Visions. The news would pain Kassa though, and she worried for the older woman.

  As for Kalara, the news made sense. Adana had only had a few short encounters with her, and she had no personal feelings for the Watcher, only anger over the woman’s stupidity in aligning with a monster like Maligon. What did trouble her was Kalara’s part in the capture and imprisonment of loyal Watchers in Belwyn. It was one thing to go against Adana’s crown, but another to strike out at the sisters she’d trained with from her first days as a Watcher.

  The news of Maligon’s mistreatment of Empress Gabriella, giving her care unfit for the lowliest animals, sickened Adana, and she tried to imagine how Jerold must feel. She had studied revenge and its effect on people, especially in the history of the four kingdoms. History kept the information sterile and impersonal. No longer distant information, the reality of revenge cut deep and painful.

  Maligon had been exiled to die in the desert. Even though Gabriella hadn’t passed the sentence, did his treatment of his cousin stem from his sentence or did it stem from something deeper, rooted in the jealousy of her noble birth contrasted with his illegitimate one?

  For the first time, she was thankful neither of her parents had lived to see the mess their world had become.

  Unaware Am’brosia had been eavesdropping on her thoughts, Adana jumped when an image of her mother interrupted her reverie. Am’brosia showed her Queen Chiora overlooking the scattered troops of Moniah, Elwar, Belwyn, and Teletia. Although hazy, she could tell the troops were shattered and confused with not enough soldiers in any position.

  A vision of her mother’s? Had this, coupled with Montee’s vision of Chiora’s death, caused her mother to make the questionable decision to send Adana away when the kingdom might be most vulnerable? Try as she might, Adana could not fathom why sending her to live under the tutelage of Queen Quilla would help her in this war.

  Some things could not be answered, but she could seek the answer to one question. “Glume?”

  The man turned from brushing Bai’dish, an expectant look on his face. He bobbed his head. “Yes, mistress?”

  She walked up and laid a hand on the short, soft fur of Am’brosia’s flank. The giraffe peered down at her with the intelligent, liquid-brown eyes that set them apart from so many animals. In times of trouble, those eyes provided precious, link-building tears, something that set giraffes even further apart from other plains animals. “Am’brosia told me you agreed to accompany Bai’dish to the Border Keep and Kiffen.”

  The man’s eyes widened. He glanced up at Am’brosia. “She told you?”

  “Yes. Is it true?”

  “Yes, mistress. I promised her.” He tilted his head up to look at the giraffe. “She’s the first giraffe to ever tell.”

  “Tell what? I need to understand how this happened.” She stared at this simple man who had always been more at home with Moniah’s giraffes rather than its people. Her shoulder, which ached earlier, quieted as she contemplated her next question. “Have you always talked with the giraffes?”

  Although a large, burly man, Glume appeared to squirm like a little boy caught eating a fine dinner with filthy hands. He shoved those hands into his deep pockets, causing the animals’ heads to turn to him in anticipation. His pockets carried treats. Realizing their expectations, he extended crispy pieces of flat bread to each of them before he answered Adana.

  “The first giraffe who spoke to me was your grandmother’s. I was just a small boy, and my father was the keeper at the time.”

  Unflinching, his gaze met Adana’s. “She told me her daughter’s daughter would need me. I never was sure if she meant you or Am’brosia. I think she meant both of you.”

  The revelation hit Adana in the gut. How many more secrets lurked around her? How many would she discover, and how many would never be known to her?

  Glume ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I’ve never told anyone.”

  He stroked his hand down Am’brosia’s nose when her head dropped closer to his. Adana recognized the gesture. Am’brosia did the same thing with her when offering comfort.

  “She must believe you need to know.” Glume sighed and turned to face Adana, wonder widening his eyes and softening his voice. “From that point on, I could hear their thoughts and talk to them. All of them.”

  “The whole herd?” Adana swallowed at the implication. She could only speak to Bai’dish through Am’brosia.

  “Yes, mistress. Every giraffe since then has spoken to me, but Am’brosia and Bai’dish do it more than any of the others. They are the strongest giraffes in the herd. They all are connected somehow.”

  “So, the way I communicate with her, you do the same?”

  “Maybe. I’m not positive. It’s images, not words. And feelings.” He ran his hand along Am’brosia’s flank. “She never let go of you while you were gone. It kept us both awake at night as she sought to hang on to your connection from so far away
. They all love you, you know.”

  Guilt flushed over Adana. She had spent so much energy during her first few months in Elwar searching for the plant that allowed her to shove the link into the background, avoiding the frantic need for connection Glume described. Did he know she had done that?

  “Yes. I knew. I gave Am’brosia the image of the plant to share with you.”

  Her head shot up. She hadn’t spoken out loud, yet he answered her. Did he know she had ignored his warning that it should be used sparingly?

  Glume nodded at Am’brosia, a deep sadness in his eyes, so similar to the depth of a giraffe’s eyes when it cries. Adana stepped back from the man, shame and concern plaguing her.

  “Don’t be alarmed, my lady. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “You’ve told no one about my use of drunkenberry?” Another secret. But Kassa and Veana knew.

  “I don’t tell anyone what I learn from the giraffes.” He giggled, a sound so incongruous with his large form and the seriousness of the conversation. “Who would believe me?”

  Ashamed, she said, “I realize how wrong I was to drink the elixir made from the berries, but the headaches caused by our separation made it impossible to cope.”

  Am’brosia swung her head in Adana’s direction, the link fading to quiet and peaceful.

  “She knows, mistress, and understands. We agreed you needed the drunkenberries to eliminate your suffering. She insisted.”

  Adana pondered this new piece of information. How much did Glume know? She shot a look at Am’brosia, a warning in her eye, the order to not share her current thoughts blazing across the link. The gentle beast lowered her ears, an indication of submission. A deeper calm floated through the connection. Am’brosia trusted Glume.

  “Please forgive me if I’ve alarmed you,” Glume said.

  Adana tilted her chin up toward the man. “We will discuss this further, but right now, I need to try to communicate with Kiffen.

  He bobbed his head. “You need to warn the young king.”

  Adana raised an eyebrow. “Is there anything you do not know concerning our link?”

  The flush that spread up his cheeks caused Adana to shiver in realization.

  “In your absence, the little king and queen have been more talkative than their ancestors. I assure you, though, they don’t tell me everything. Bai’dish just told me you needed to warn the king of something. I know not what.”

  Adana held back a grin at Glume’s reference to the giraffes as little. “It’s alright. I had planned to share the information with you, in case the king misunderstands the message. As you already know,” she glared at the two giraffes, and shook her head when both straightened enough to avoid eye contact, “you and Bai’dish will be leaving for the Border Keep quite soon.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  “And I will share the knowledge of your special skills with Montee and Kiffen. And Kassa.”

  The man paled but nodded.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 13

  Princess Leera’s tears had dried up days ago. After mourning her father’s death and the absence of everyone important to her, she didn’t have another tear to weep. She wandered the gardens around Elwar’s castle, numb and exhausted, pausing at her favorite haunts to recall pleasanter times with Adana. The servants watched her from a distance. No one interrupted her or spoke beyond a quick bob of the head and a formal greeting.

  Her mind still echoed with the cries in the night, soldiers running in the halls, and her mother sweeping into her room to deliver the news. Her father, the king, murdered.

  She had been awake at the time, wishing she hadn’t been so cruel to Adana after the betrothal, wishing she could have traveled with her to Moniah. Each time the memory of that night washed over her, she shivered from an internal chill. Five long days stretched behind her since the world had shriveled up and died.

  Today, she awoke to a dull world and realized this was her future. First, she roamed the halls of the castle. It no longer looked or felt like her home. Where were the friendly faces of the guards who normally stood outside her quarters? Everywhere she looked, she saw guards, more than usual, wearing the royal blue and gold of Elwar, but all of them were strangers to her. None of them exhibited the polished look of the castle guards she remembered. More than once, she caught one of them eying her in a most inappropriate manner. Their stares made her stomach churn with uneasiness so she fled to the gardens.

  What had happened? Was this truly Elwar?

  Somewhere in the midst of her grief, she had overheard chambermaids whispering about treason. As these thoughts plagued her, she disturbed a flock of birds in an arbor. They flew into the sky, squawking in protest. As she watched them flee, she wished she could join them and soar high above these gardens.

  Settling on a bench, she glanced around. No one had trimmed the bushes in the past few days. Leaves and debris from a storm two nights ago still littered the paths. She bent and picked up a dried, brown leaf; it crumbled into tiny flakes in her hand. Just like her life, brittle and falling apart.

  Leera stared at the pieces as they drifted to the ground. The gardens were her mother’s pride and joy. Had the duties of running the kingdom kept her mother from ensuring the gardeners remained devoted to their work?

  “I must speak to her of this,” she said out loud. “She will be furious.”

  Or will she?

  Her brief interludes with her mother had not been pleasant. Lord Sarx had been present each time, and the two of them had appeared satisfied at the arrival of more bad news, the death of Adana’s father and the disappearances of Kiffen and Adana.

  Taking a deep breath, Leera studied her surroundings. Maybe she would find peace in caring for her mother’s gardens. She stood among the withering flora, taking breath after breath, feeling it awaken her soul. The sun beat down, warming her in this unshaded spot, but she knew its warmth was fleeting. Cold weather approached, and the warm days would be few. She took deeper breaths. In. Out. In. Out. Each breath filled her with the scents of dying flowers, but the fresh air awakened something within her.

  I must remember that breathing exercise next time I feel fatigued, she thought, and then halted on the stone walkway. Adana did a similar breathing exercise whenever she sought calm. Was it a Watcher skill? Leera shook her head and pushed that question away. It demanded exploring, but her mother and righting whatever was wrong in Elwar’s castle were her first priorities.

  She started toward the castle and her mother.

  Just outside the door to the castle’s audience chamber, Leera paused. The guards weren’t standing attendance in the corridor, and the doors stood wide open. From habit, she slid between the door and the wall to peer through the crack into the large receiving room.

  Queen Quilla sat on the throne, holding court. Few people attended, but she preened and acted as if the chamber was full. She wore mourning black, but the crown on her head and the heavy golden chains around her neck negated the effect. A man, dressed in drab-colored pants and overshirt, knelt before her. When the queen bade him to stand, his bald head reflected the sun shining through the windows. He mopped his brow with a red kerchief and shuffled his feet.

  “What do you request of the queen?” Lord Sarx stood to Quilla’s right and addressed the supplicant

  The man quivered. “If it pleases the queen, my store’s stock is almost gone. I’ve been ordered to supply the queen’s troops as they arrive, but I’ve received no payment.”

  “Payment.” Quilla sat forward in her chair, a flush spreading across her cheeks. She laughed harshly. “You expect payment for serving your queen?”

  The man took a hesitant step backward. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but how am I to restock if I’m not paid for my goods?”

  “What of your other patrons? Raise your prices for them.”

  He mopped his brow again. “I have no other patrons. My shop is overrun with soldiers.”

  “I see.” Quilla leaned b
ack in her chair, a benevolent smile spreading over her face. The merchant’s shoulders relaxed.

  “I see we have relieved you of stock you could not sell anyway,” Quilla said in an imperious tone. “You have no patrons, so, as I see it, we did you a favor. Of course, you are no good to us without stock. I will need to seek another supplier, one more adept at business.”

  The merchant’s shoulders sagged as if a weight fell upon them and, even from her hiding place, Leera saw tiny tremors run down his back. She’d seen servants tremble like that before, after her mother’s scolding.

  She clenched her hands and fought the desire to step into the room to defend the man.

  The queen waved her hand in dismissal. “Escort this man out. He has no need I can address.”

  Horrified, Leera watched as two burly guards grabbed the merchant by his arms and dragged him out of the room. She pressed her body against the rough, stone wall as they passed. The merchant, pedaling his short legs to keep up with the guard’s pace, looked fragile in their hands.

  Why did this one man’s plight draw pity from her? Leera followed the guards.

  They dropped the man on the floor in a heap. She balled her fists tighter as the guards barked with harsh laughter at the defeated man huddled on the floor. They dusted their hands and turned back toward the audience chamber. The larger of the two, a swarthy man with gaps in his teeth and hard black eyes, stopped in front of her. “What have we here? Has the lamb finally emerged from her slumber?”

  Leera straightened her spine and stared at him with contempt. She waited for him to look away from her in discomfort.

  The soldier guffawed and jabbed his partner. “Look at her. She thinks she’s the queen now, I s’pose.” Laughing, the two men brushed past her, the larger one so close, he almost bumped her into the wall.

  Leera maintained her footing and opened her mouth to reprimand them, but she heard shuffling from where the guards had dropped the merchant. She turned back to him instead. “Wait,” she ordered his retreating back.