by TJ Muir
Cham was looking at him, waiting. Jedda just looked back at him blankly.
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Jedda said, his brain unable to even consider any possibilities.
“What about your family? Do you know anything about where you might come from?”
“No. nothing. I already said that,” Jedda said, snapping. “Why are you asking me all this, anyway?” Cham’s questions kept yanking him out of his own racing thoughts.
“Because all along, this person uses you, that person uses you. You run from this thing or that thing. And again, you are running away.”
“What? Are you saying I should stay here? I’m as good as dead that way!”
“No. That was not what the words were saying. What are you running towards? Have you ever had any goal that is your own?” Cham asked.
Jedda just looked at Cham in angry disbelief. “My life is in danger and you want to be philosophical?”
“Yes.”
“By the nine hells,” Jedda swore. He felt the need to move, to go. But he didn’t know where. Then what Cham was trying to explain hit him. “The only thing I have, at all, is this pendant,” he said, sharing his final secret. “I don’t know very much about it. The archivist called it a tiqqua. I think I’ve always had it but I don’t know anything about it, or why someone gave it to me.”
“A mystery worth pursuing, much more than a madman’s greed,” He said it as a statement, but Jedda read it as the question that it posed.
“So maybe there is a way I can find out who I am, who my parents were…Is that what you are saying?” he asked, distracted from his immediate dire situation.
Cham shrugged. “A plan, a journey worth the undertaking. One I would happily follow,” Cham said, nodding. “Even though it is unlikely to lead to a family reunion, it will lead somewhere. Towards something.”
Jedda looked at him, surprised. “Really? You would help me to discover who my parents were? Or at least what this might mean?”
“That is far more interesting than anything going on in the city. It holds no further interest for me. I was ready to move on, anyway. This space will soon be resolved,” he said glancing around the empty room. “I was only waiting for the path to become clear. The Lya chiqui flows, moving forward again,” he explained.
Jedda didn’t entirely understand the mystical significance, but he understood the intention, clear enough. Cham was already intending to leave the city. Jedda felt betrayed that this had not come up before now. But Cham was offering to help Jedda leave the city. Hope flickered in Jedda, at having both an escape and a goal of his own.
Chapter Seventeen
Jedda knew he needed to go back, and take his leave from Trey, and from Kirrin. He felt close to both of them, and they had both been very good to him. Leaving without a goodbye would just be wrong. He also needed to warn Diya. He knew it was a calculated risk. At this point, he felt like the Nibbin, racing against something unseen, forces at work, moving, stirring. But he knew he needed to act, one way or the other, now, immediately. Fear alone was forcing him into action. Every sense he had screamed at him that he was in danger, or that danger was looming, imminent.
It was the middle of the night by the time Jedda got back to Trey's. The two moons were waxing and low on the horizon, casting gloomy light and shadows everywhere. The House was settling, but he knew Trey would still be awake, probably in his own rooms by now- a small blessing. At least he wouldn't have to contrive a reason to get his friend alone. By the time he had gotten to the house, he was already decided. He needed to leave immediately.
Cham came with him into Jedda’s suite but kept a very discreet and polite distance from the two while they spoke. Jedda was sure though that Cham would be paying attention on a deeper level, though. It was harder to part from Kirrin, who had been part brother, part father, and part trusted confidante. Cham had come with him and leaned casually in the doorway.
Jedda walked into the common area, looking around the place. The walls felt like they were closing in on him. He sat down and was about to shove the clutter on on the table into a pile when he saw the message from Hak'kar. He hung his head, staring at the message, watching the letters blur. It wasn't until he noticed that his hand was wet, that he realized he had been crying.
Kirrin was barely stirring, he had been staying awake, waiting for Jedda to return. But the man had nodded off on the couch. Jedda wiped his arm across his face and rubbed his eyes, trying to erase any sign of his tears. But he just couldn't do it. He slumped into one of the chairs, feeling very small and lost.
“Is something wrong?” Kirrin asked, trying to rouse himself, swerving into an upright seated position.
“I can’t keep doing this, Kirrin. It’s hurting my very soul, to live this lie. Maybe for the Chanmyr, it is okay, and this feeling is because of my Faenyr blood. But I am in pain, here. You’ve seen it. The headaches, the drink. I don’t know where I need to go, but I need to be away from the city, and away from a place where I have to betray the people I have come to love.”
Kirrin was sitting upright by now, and his brain was slowly taking in Jedda’s words. This was the make or break moment. Jedda looked over to Cham for input. Jedda couldn’t tell what he was reading, but he trusted that Cham could reliably tell what Kirrin was processing.
“You’re leaving?” Kirrin said, sounding pained.
Jedda nodded, putting his hand on Kirrin’s shoulder.
Kirrin blinked, “leaving?” he repeated, confused.
Jedda had begun to gather up a few of his things. He didn’t plan on taking very much. It seemed poor taste, like stealing things that had been paid for, after quitting the job. A perverse logic and ethics, he knew.
“Where are you going?” Kirrin asked, sounding truly distressed.
Jedda shrugged. He looked at Kirrin as his friend watched him. Sadness threatened to overwhelm him. “I’m not sure. I may have a chance to discover something about my parents. Family. I need to do that. To find out who I am. You understand?” Jedda also felt safer, telling Kirrin less about his plans. And in truth, he didn't even have a plan. What he was telling Kirrin was close to the truth- just not the whole truth.
Cham came up close to Jedda, as he was packing. Jedda knew immediately, that Cham wanted to share something. He glanced over at Kirrin.
“Is he Hak’kar’s man?”
Cham shook his head, no. “His loyalty is only to you.”
“And if I leave, he’s a dead man,” Jedda said, feeling the weight of that truth. He sighed, feeling responsible.
Lastly, Jedda went to his collection of carved animals, quickly wrapping them and stuffing them into a pouch. One of them fell, and he absently stuck it into his pocket. Then he opened a secret niche in the wall and drew out the small leather pouch from its safe hiding place.
Kirrin stood up, quickly sobering up, as the realization hit him. “I want to go where you go,” he insisted, following behind Jedda. Jedda could hear how strained Kirrin sounded, panicked. “I’ve been the So’Har’s man, his tool, my entire life. You have no idea. This is not a life I would have ever chosen, many years ago. It is too easy, it seems so easy. Then suddenly it isn't easy and then it's too late,” Kirrin said. He took a breath and blurted out the words Jedda feared. “I am as good as dead if you leave.”
Jedda shuddered as Kirrin said that. But he nodded, understanding. He had grown to trust and love Kirrin. He didn’t want another death on his conscience. He also didn’t want to be alone. Kirrin would look after him and make sure he stayed safe.
Jedda stopped dead in his tracks, turning quickly, about to rush out of the room. “By the Red God,” Jedda swore. “I’ve got to go warn Diya.”
Kirrin grabbed him by the shoulder, spun him around, stopping Jedda where he stood. Jedda was about to shake himself loose. He looked Kirrin in the eye, and they both dropped the pretense that Kirrin did not already know what was g
oing on.
“You cannot go there.”
“I have to. I have to warn her.”
“Hak’kar has just told you what he intends. If you go there, you will not leave there alive, if you even reach her.”
“Okay, then. I’ll write a letter. I can ask Trey to get it to her.”
Kirrin shook Jedda solidly. “You cannot trust this House. Where are your wits? Wake up!”
“Let go of me,” Jedda cried. “I have to do this. I have to warn her.”
“One of us is informed, and one of us clearly is not,” Kirrin said.
Jedda blinked. This was not patient kind Kirrin who had tutored him for several years. Kirrin had his wits about him and was thinking far more clearly than Jedda was. Jedda sighed, nodding.
“Okay. I’ll figure something out. But she needs to be warned. Let me write the letter, and I will hold it. I won’t even tell Trey about it.”
Kirrin looked like he was about to object, but nodded. Jedda hurried over to the desk and took out paper and pen.
Diya
I am sorry to tell you this in a letter, but my life is in danger and I need to leave. I have been in the service to So’har Hak’kar, and am just now realizing the extent of what he expects of me, and I refuse to harm my friends. Hak’kar has some sort of hold over your family, he intends to force your father into marrying you off to his son. You cannot marry this man, it will be the death of you. Hak’kar was behind the deaths of Trey’s father and brother, and also Yaran. Please, you must stall and prevent this from happening. I will try and get in touch with you again soon, I hope to find my family and find a place safe from Hak’kars wrath, and then I can send for you.
Yours always,
Jay.
“And now, I need to talk to Trey and tell him what he needs to know.”
Trey was still awake, which didn’t surprise Jedda. Trey had always kept late hours. Jedda was dreading this conversation, had no idea what to say.
“Jaybird,” Trey said, smiling when Jedda came into the room. “Looking for the late night brandy?”
Jedda took a deep breath. “You know you are my friend, right? My brother. Not that I could ever replace your brother,” he said, knowing he sounded foolish.
“Of course you are,” Trey said, pouring brandy. “Are you in trouble?” Trey asked. “Have you run into a gambling debt? I can help you if you have. I can pay your debt. I can take care of you.”
“Please. No. I need you to stop,” Jedda said. “I have some things to tell you. Hard things. Truth. And I know when I am done, you will not call me brother, or friend.”
“Don’t be foolish, Jaybird,” Trey said.
“My name isn’t Jay,” he blurted out. “I am not a good person, and there are things I know. Things you need to know.”
Jedda looked at Trey, who had heard the tone in Jedda’s voice. Trey looked wary, but he was listening.
“I am an orphan, from right here in the city. At least I think so. So’har Hak’kar has been a sort of patron to me. And he is not a good man. He is far from a good man. He now expects me to betray my friends. To betray you. I can’t do that. And now my life is in danger.”
Trey was listening, full attention, Dah’har Zo’Trey, something cold in his look.
Jedda continued. “I need to leave. But I want you to know that your father’s death, Taj’s death, was not an accident. I can’t prove it, but I know that So’har Hak’kar was behind it. And you may also be in danger. Do not trust your household. Yaran was Hak’kar’s man. I do not know who else might work for the So’har. You and Diya both are in danger.”
Trey looked shaken, hearing about his father’s death. And Jedda knew he was angry to learn his closest and most trusted friend was not the person Trey had believed. Jedda tiptoed around the truth. As much as he would like to tell Trey everything, he knew there wasn't time for that. Also, if Trey guessed half of what Jedda had been up to, he might do something foolish. And Jedda needed Trey to keep his head. Jedda hoped that Trey would be wise, and focus on the danger, rather than the betrayal.
“What am I to do with this information?”
“I don’t know. But you need to be warned. Perhaps then you can find allies you can trust.”
“What does he want? What does he plan?”
Jedda shrugged. “He wants your seat,” he said. “He intends to find a way to force a marriage to his daughter.”
Trey laughed. “Marriage? Everyone around me talks marriage, and offers suggestions.”
“You don’t know this man. He gets what he wants, and he kills people.”
“What would you suggest?”
“Do something. Act Now, before he can lay his plans. He already has a plan in motion to force Diya into an arranged marriage.”
“I’m sorry Jay. Really sorry for you.”
“Don’t you understand? She is as good as dead if she does this, and dead if she defies him.”
“What do you propose?” Trey asked.
“Marry her yourself,” Jedda said. “You could marry her.”
Trey stopped, brandy glass in hand, and looked Jedda right in the eyes. “I’d never do that, couldn’t,”
Jedda wanted to cry. He didn’t deserve Trey’s friendship. Trey was paying no attention to the bomb Jedda had just dropped.
“Then marry Findal. Tomorrow. Get her pregnant. Get an heir. Immediately.”
“What about you?” Trey asked.
“I can’t marry Diya. Have you not been listening?”
“I meant, what are you going to do?”
Jedda shrugged. “I need to leave. Now. Tonight. Before any word can get back to Hak’kar, else I am as good as dead.”
“I can protect you,” Trey said. “Stay here.
“Your House is compromised. Do you know who might carry poison, or a knife in the shadows?”
Trey looked uncomfortable, hearing that.
“I know you will be a strong Da'har- and you will be fair and honest. Find someone completely trustworthy, with nothing to gain, and keep them near you as much as possible.” Jedda realized he was asking Trey to find another person like he was, only Jedda had no idea who that might be. Jedda considered telling Trey of Hak’kar’s dislike of Uncle-- but that would put Trey back into the same position as before.
Trey looked at Jedda curiously. Jedda knew Trey was wondering what information he had acquired.
“Trust me. Please.” Jedda looked him square in the eye as he said it. “The man is very dangerous, and reaches his fingers into many places.” His words reached Trey, or the tone and urgency.
Trey sat quietly for a while, staring into his brandy. “You’re leaving here. Leaving me,” he said, heavily.
“There is no other way. You must understand that.”
“But you will come back,” Trey said, looking him in the eye. A Da’har’s command.
Jedda could feel the loss, the need, beseeching him. He nodded, even knowing there would never be a time when he could safely return. “I promise.”
“Then I will help you,” Trey said. “However I can.”
They headed downstairs to the back of the house. Jedda preferred to be on his way before too many people started asking questions- questions he didn’t want to answer, and gossip that he preferred to keep from flowing up and down the river before breakfast was on the table.
Jedda headed out into the small side courtyard, near where he had hidden the secret documents- not that long ago. Three horses waited for them. Trey insisted, having roused the stable boy himself, 'for the Da'har's private business.' No one would think to question it.
Trey had intended two horses for riding and the third for carrying gear. “I can fetch another horse,” he said when he saw Kirrin with them. It was clear he would do whatever was in his power and ability to help.
“It should be okay,” Cham said. “We will be traveling lightly, with little gear. The path unfolds, for three,” Cham took it as a good omen, regarding their decision to bring Kirrin with t
hem.
“There’s one small problem,” Jedda said, looking worried.
“What’s that?”
“I’ve never ridden a horse,”
The other two looked at him, a hair short of astonished, and trying not to show it.
“It’s okay,” Cham said, looking over the three horses, before singling out a slightly chunky, placid-looking black horse with four white stocking legs. “This one will take good care of you.”
“And he will follow the Sorrel,” Trey said, handing the third horse, a solid looking dark red horse, to Kirrin.
Trey stepped forward, patting each horse. “This fellow, he said when he came to Jedda's black horse, “is Jespen. He taught me to ride, many years ago, at least it seems that way now. He'll take care of you. Our friend knows horses, it seems,” Trey said, nodding towards Cham.
“Somewhat,” Cham said.
“This one is Bailey. Honest and reliable,” he said to Kirrin.
“This third one is actually a Tajynal halfling, his name is Trillian, Trilly,” he said, stroking the nose of a dusty dun colored horse. “He's forest bred and smart. Take good care of him. Of all of them. There is grain for several days in the saddle bags, plus some coin for supplies as you travel.”
Jedda wanted to leave, but he flung his arms around Trey, hugging him tightly.
“This isn't goodbye,” Jedda said, willing it to be true.
“Never goodbye, not forever. You are my brother. Whatever you need, send word and I will move mountains and rivers to keep you safe or get you what you need.” Jedda knew it was just words, but the sentiment was there, and it hit a place deep inside. He hugged Trey tighter, before letting go.
“One day, we'll meet again, my brother.” Jedda doubted it would ever come to pass, but felt a twitch, over promises made and keeping them.
They got themselves mounted up, and just as Cham said, he took the lead, and the other two horses followed behind.
“There's one place I need to go before we leave the city.” Jedda knew it was a risk, and he felt torn between his need to run, against something deeper. “It's not a big detour, and we should be able to leave from there almost as easily.”