Farmers & Mercenaries

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Farmers & Mercenaries Page 37

by Maxwell Alexander Drake


  Quietly descending the stairs that led to the kitchen, Arderi hoped to scrounge up some food for his travel and be off before the house awoke.

  To his surprise, when he arrived in the kitchen, his mother and Mag’Oella both stood in the kitchen, waiting on him.

  “You retired to your room so fast last eve, I did not have the chance to speak with you.” Mag’Oella, her long, curly red hair bouncing on her shoulders, came walking up to him. Standing awkwardly in front of him, the girl twirled a lock of hair and fidgeted her feet.

  “Hello, Mag. I was hoping to see you here.”

  The girl let out a giggle. “You never were much good at lying, Arderi, yet that is all for the better. Your Ma says you are leaving again this morn.”

  “Aye. I have something I must do in Mocley.”

  With eyes sparkling, Mag’Oella reached out and placed a hand over Arderi’s. “I have always wanted to go to a real city.”

  Extracting his hand from hers, Arderi reached out and took the girl by her shoulders. He felt uncomfortable talking to her in front of his mother, yet he knew he could not leave her this time without an explanation. “Look, Mag, I am truly sorry that I disappeared. I know we have all except been promised to each other.” He shot a glance to his mother before returning to look at Mag. “Things have changed. I do not know where I will end up, yet I do not think it will be here.”

  Upon entering the kitchen and seeing her there, he had not known what he would say, nor what her reaction would be. The sharp sting her slap left upon his cheek had not even been on his list of possibilities.

  “You leave without so much as a goodbye, letting everyone believe you dead or worse, and now you think you can simply brush me aside!” She flung up her hands. “Men!” Twirling around, she stormed from the room.

  His mother greeted him with a wry smile, though thankfully said nothing about Mag. “Your Papa went back to our room to get something for you.” She held out a sack. “There should be a good tenday’s worth of food here, if you can manage not to eat all of it in one sitting.”

  “My thanks, Ma.” Taking the sack, he set it next to his own on the floor. “Ma, I—”

  “Shh!” She cut him off. “Do not make this harder for us than it needs be.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I want you to remember one thing for me, Arderi.”

  “Aye, Ma?”

  “You have never fit in, we have always known this. You have always dreamed of being more than just a fielder. When your brother, Alant—” She paused and covered her mouth. It embarrassed Arderi to watch her fight off tears. “When he was… accepted into the Shaper’s Order, we saw how it affected you. How much you wanted to have that as well. Well, mayhaps that was not the life the Gods had planned for you. Mayhaps you will find something in Mocley. Yet, always remember.” She reached out and pulled him into a hug as she began to weep. “Never forget, if you do not… find what you are looking for… we will always be here for you. You are a man full grown now. Still, I do not want you to feel like you have to stay on your own.” She held him out at arms length, tears flowing unchecked down her face. “You will always have a home here.”

  “I know, Ma.” During the meeting on the past eve, Arderi told them most of what happened to him during his time in the Nektine. He had not, however, mentioned anything about the Tat’Sujen or any of the related subjects around the mysterious Commander Clytus Rillion, other than the man’s death. He wanted to say something more, something to make her understand, yet he did not know where to start.

  I do not even understand how it relates to me! What can I tell her?

  The door opened behind them and Tanin walked in. “It is almost sunrise, son.”

  Turning, he looked at his father and noted that the man first glanced to Arderi’s hip before crossing the room. Tanin held out his hand, a stoic look upon his face.

  Arderi reached out to take the offered hand, yet rushed in and embraced his father instead. “I love you and Ma so much, Papa. I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused.”

  Tanin embraced Arderi warmly, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “I know son. I know. I am not happy at the manner in which you started all this, yet I must say, I am proud of how you are handling it now.”

  Releasing his embrace, Arderi took a step back and looked into his father’s eyes. “My thanks, Papa.”

  Biting his lower lip, Tanin reached out and placed his hands on Arderi’s shoulders. “I only ask that you do me and your Ma one thing.” Arderi nodded. “While you are in Mocley, you find out about Alant. There is only one thing that gnaws at the heart more than losing a son, and that is not knowing how or why.”

  Breaking eye contact, Arderi dropped his gaze to the floor. “Aye, Papa. If it is within my power, I will do as you ask.”

  “Good.” Tanin reached down, picked up Arderi’s pack, and held it for him to take. “Now, you have a caravan to catch.”

  Taking the pack, Arderi turned to his mother. He knew she was fighting back tears once more, and he wished he were not the instrument of that pain.

  “Ma, I—” Arderi was once again cut off by his mother’s crushing embrace. She cried fully now, and her quiet sobs shook her body. He returned her hug and let her continue crying until she broke from him on her own.

  “I know you are doing what you feel you must, and I will not stop you. Just keep in mind that I have already lost one son. Do not make me bear the loss of a second.”

  The thought of reminding her that, until last eve, she had borne the loss of two sons crossed his mind, yet wisely, he held his tongue.

  “Farewell, Ma. I will remember your words, and if it is in my power, do as you say.”

  They walked him to the front door and followed him out onto the porch. Arderi assumed they would walk with him all the way to the fair grounds where the caravan had stayed. When they did not follow him down the stairs onto the street, he paused and glanced back. “Are you not coming?”

  “Nix, son. This is as far as we go.” Taking a small pouch from his pocket, Tanin held it out toward Arderi. “It is not much, yet it is all that we have. It will serve you better than us.”

  Guilt swept over Arderi at the thought of the coins resting in his pack.

  In that one pouch alone, I have a lifetime’s wage for a simple fielder like my father.

  Kneeling down, he opened his pack and withdrew two gold ta’narians. Standing, he walked back up the stairs, put one hand over his father’s coin purse, and forced it down. “Nix, Papa. Let me lighten your burden for once.”

  Opening his father’s hand, he set the two coins in Tanin’s palm. Tanin stared at the money in disbelief. “Son, how could you have so much money?”

  “Fear not, Papa, it is not ill gained. It was a final gift from Master Rillion. He instructed me to use it for any needs I may have. I have no greater need than caring for my family.”

  Speechless, Tanin nodded.

  Not wanting to be drawn into more emotional embraces, Arderi quickly descended the stairs, re-slung his packs over his shoulder, and walked down the cobblestone street toward the fair grounds. He was about to round the corner of the last building on the row when he glanced over his shoulder. His parents still stood on the porch, clinging tightly to each other. He paused for a fraction of a moment to etch their image into his mind. Without looking away, Arderi took a few more steps, and his parents disappeared from his view. A slow, burning ache crept into his heart and he stopped in the street.

  Do not make this harder than it needs be.

  Forcing himself forward, Arderi took a step, then another. Before he could stop himself, he raced along at a full run, thankful that the streets sat deserted at this early aurn.

  Rounding a bend, the fair grounds burst into view. Many of the wagons were already hitched and waiting in a line upon the street that led out of the Hild’alan stead. Slowing to a walk, Arderi s
trode up to the front wagon.

  Jintrill sat perched upon the bench looking as uncomfortable as usual. “I wondered how I would go about locating you should you decide not to show this morn.”

  Taking the hand the Shaper offered, Arderi stepped up and plopped down beside him. “I could no more miss this caravan than I could stop taking breath.”

  Before long, the rest of the wagons joined those on the road and the caravan headed for Mocley. Heavy-hearted, Arderi sat and watched his home slip by. When they passed under the main gates, Arderi caught the eye of Guarder Captain Nime. The grizzly man stood with a hand resting upon the hilt of his sword and nodded once to Arderi as the wagon rolled past. Nodding back, Arderi again realized how much he had changed since he stowed away inside Master Rillion’s caravan. Thinking back to the day, his mind recalled the strange Priestess of Saphanthia he met during his time at the Palintium. It was unfortunate he had not thought of her sooner. He would have liked to speak with her once more.

  Well, Priestess, I am unsure of what road I now travel. Still, I think it has become a bit more narrow than it was before. My only hope is that it does not lead me to ruin.

  The crushed stone path crunched under the soft soles of Alant Cor’s golden slippers. Though the weather had warmed and summer had fallen fully upon the Isle of Elmorr’eth, the foliage he walked among still bloomed in their vibrant greens, reds, yellows, and different hues of blue. Shaith Ku’rin, her dark, silky skin radiating in the warm sunlight, strolled along beside him. Alant found he had grown to enjoy her company even more than the thrill of learning from the Elmorr’Antiens.

  Almost two tendays had passed since Quiln had been sent home. Alant had nearly stamped out the fear that at any moment they would come for him, rip him from his room, and do whatever it was they had done to the orphan boy.

  Those red-slashed eyes, so vacant looking, still haunt my dreams.

  He shuddered, and Shaith cut her jade eyes at him. “You be cold? It be near as warm here as in my own land.”

  “Nix. I was just thinking.”

  “You do that a lot of late. There be a saying back home, ‘Friendship be one mind in two bodies.’”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?” He was never good at sayings.

  She punched him in the arm. “It do mean that if you see us as friends, you should no keep secrets from me.”

  Rubbing at the spot where she struck him, Alant took a deep breath. “It is not that I am keeping secrets. It is just that when I try to talk with you or Jerith about what I have heard the Elmorr’Antiens discussing, you do not believe me.”

  Letting out a sniff, Shaith reached out and plucked a small, light blue flower from a bush that rested along the side of the path. “You say this like it be hard to understand. You yourself said you no speak the Elmorr’Antien tongue, yet you say you know what they say.” She brought the flower to her nose and smelled it while looking at him over the top of its thin petals.

  I could drown in those green eyes.

  Not for the first time, he thought of telling her about the Tarsith.

  It has to be the Tarsith that lets me understand them. It is the only thing that makes sense!

  Yet, he did not dare break his word to Sier Sarlimac. And not just his vow to not tell anyone, also the old Sier’s warning that people would die if an Elmorr’Antien found out about it. He could not bear the thought of anything bad happening to Shaith. Still, he wanted to tell her. “I wish I could explain, it is just—” The Tarsith radiated cold, jolting what he was about to say from his lips.

  “…full again? So soon!” Vanria Delmith’s voice came from just ahead of them, beyond the tall bushes that made up the outer wall of the hedge-maze. “I had thought six moons was fast, yet this… It has not even been two tendays!”

  “What—” At Shaith’s first word, Alant covered her mouth with his hand and pushed her off the path into a small thicket of plants.

  “I am just as surprised as you.” The snide voice of Prince Aritian floated from the same location. “Still, I am sure. I went to the Chi’utlan as soon as I arrived. It is filled to the brim.”

  “I agree, my Prince, it must mean something.” Delmith’s voice sounded both filled with excitement and dread all at once. “Never before has the Chi’utlan filled faster than a full turn of the season, then, when the last filled in half that time, I thought mayhaps. Yet now…”

  “Yes! That is why I want the strongest this time.”

  A tingling cascaded down Alant’s back.

  “Alant? It is too soon. The Shapers in Mocley may question—”

  The Prince cut off whatever Delmith was going to say. “I question why you would argue with me over this. I question whether you have forgotten who you owe so much to.” Vanria Delmith made a strangling sound that Prince Aritian continued speaking over. “You seem to have an interest in this Alant creature that goes beyond a simple curiosity of their race. Tell me why.” Silence stretched between the two Elmorians and Alant was afraid they had walked deeper into the hedge-maze. “Tell me why. Now!”

  “As you say, my Prince, it shall be done.” Alant heard the strain in Delmith’s tone. “I am simply concerned that a second Ro’Arithian may lead to suspicion. Using the Silawaian, the boy from the warrior class, would raise less suspicion.”

  “Do not presume too much with me, Delmith. Besides, if it is the Humans you are worried about, a message has already been sent to the Chandril’elian in Mocley informing them about Alant.” The Elmorr’Antien Prince laughed. A sound like glass tinkling down rocks. This was something Alant did not know an Elmorr’Antien could do. “That is not your reason. At least, not your only one.”

  Long moments once again stretched out. Finally, in a lower voice than before, Delmith continued. “I have some… concerns when it comes to the Alant boy.”

  “Concerns? How so?”

  “Have you attempted to perform a Chi’tar upon him?”

  “I have, and was unsuccessful. Yet, there are a rare few Humans whom it has been recorded that the Chi’tar cannot be performed upon—all of them Shapers. It is an odd thing. I do not, however, see how it relates.”

  “As you say, my Prince. Yet, I also suspect that the boy speaks our tongue—or at least understands it.”

  “That is preposterous!” Prince Aritian’s voice made it clear that he truly had no doubt of this, yet Alant was more frightened now than ever. “Never in the recorded history of our race has any outsider been able to speak our tongue. It is forbidden to even speak it outside of one of our cities!”

  “As you say, my Prince. Alas, I do believe it may be so.”

  “Why? What cause have you?”

  “Little things, my Prince. He seemed shocked the first time we spoke in front of him.”

  “Being shocked at hearing an unfamiliar tongue means nothing.”

  “No, not in and of itself. Yet, he knew that we were coming for the Quiln boy. I found him watching from his room when we collected him.”

  “That is worse, yet still not incriminating.” The Prince laughed once more. “I think you are—”

  “He asked about the Mah’Sukai.” It was the first time Alant heard Delmith speak over Prince Aritian, and he held his breath as a long silence stretched between the two.

  “That is… a concern.” Long moments continued to pile up. “It seems that I was not in haste in sending a message to the Humans. The Essence owns its will, and all is decided.”

  A rustling told Alant that the two Elmorr’Antiens were on the move. He strained his ears to catch anything else that might be said between them. He noticed that the Tarsith hanging around his neck had grown warm once more, and knew he would learn nothing else. Removing his hand from Shaith’s plump lips, he stood, helping the girl up as he did.

  Fire burned inside the green eyes of the dark skinned girl. “I do hope you have an expla
nation for this?”

  Motioning her to be quiet—earning him another angry look—Alant took Shaith by the arm and headed back to the Chandril’elian at a brisk clip. He refused to say anything else to her until they were back in his room with the door shut.

  With an exasperated sigh, she flopped onto his bed. “Either you be going crazy, or mayhaps I be for even asking, yet I will know what be going through that thick head of yours.”

  Sitting down hard next to her, he lowered his chin into his hands. “I am uncertain.” Turning, he took her hands in his. “Look, I know you have trouble believing this. I understand what the Elmorr’Antiens are saying when they speak in their own tongue.” He held up a hand to forestall her protests. “I know. We have gone over this many times. You do not have to believe me. Alas, I think this evening they are coming for me.”

  Her eyes grew large, then her mischievous grin popped to her lips. “You fool too much, I think.” When Alant’s facial features did not lose their worried state, Shaith’s grin slipped. “Or you be unsettled!”

  She adjusted herself on the bed so that she had one leg bent before her, the other draped over the edge, resting her foot on the floor. “Tell me what you did hear.”

  Blinking, Alant sat up straight. “So you believe me?”

  “I never said I did no believe you.” He gave her a wry look. “I just did say it be difficult to accept. I do have to admit, you do act strange every time the Elmorr’Antiens go to talking. So tell me.”

  “The first time—”

  A loud click sounded through his tiny room and his door swung open, making both of them jump. Jerith stood in the doorway casting looks between the two with an odd expression on his face. “I thought I did hear your door, yet I no expected to find the Princess in here with you.”

  Alant felt his face go flush. “It is not what you think.” Standing, he grabbed Jerith by the arm, pulled him into the room, and shut the door. With three now in the room there was no space for anything else. “Look, Jerith, you have been here longer than anyone.” He glanced at Shaith and motioned for her not to be offended. “How many Human Initiates have you seen since you arrived?”

 

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