Exile

Home > Other > Exile > Page 17
Exile Page 17

by Colleen Vanderlinden

“She thought it was the King’s plan, though. I believe that my father’s plan was no more and no less than what he claimed, that we need this marriage to foster peace and an alliance between us and the humans. I believe he was holding to our values when he made this deal with the humans. And I don’t doubt that Jarvik fought him on it. I know he did. But once it became clear that this was happening, Jarvik likely realized that he could use it to his advantage. As much as Jarvik seemed to hate the idea, he also seemed pretty anxious to see me married to one of the humans. And he seemed especially gleeful when I chose Shannen.”

  “And we’re back to where we began. Remove Jarvik, and get back to the business of restoring this planet and forming a true alliance with the humans. It can be done eventually, but not if we’re fighting one another,” Baerne argued. “Listen to your wife on this, if you won’t listen to me, brother.”

  “My wife who I should toss aside to gain favor among our people, you mean?” Daarik asked.

  “You’d be a fool to do that, and you know my opinion on the matter,” Baerne said. “He’s not wrong,” he said, gesturing to Vrynn. “You would get more support, more quickly, by renouncing your marriage. But I believe that eventually, those who stay away because they disapprove of your wife will see that no matter who you’re married to, you still believe in our values. You are the one that wants what’s best for our people. Your father’s time is done, and anyone who’s at all been paying attention knows it.”

  “Eventually might be too late!” Vrynn argued, pounding his boulder-like fist on the table. “I know you care for the human. I don’t understand it, but it’s fine. There are bigger things at stake here than your own little fetish, Daarik.”

  Daarik stared at his old friend. “Is that what you think this is?”

  Vrynn sighed. “That was uncalled for. Forgive me. But I am not the only one having these thoughts. She is not helping your campaign.”

  “Enough. The wife stays, and we deal with it,” Faerlah said calmly, with a note of authority in her voice that everyone at the table knew well. Each of them had heard it through childhood and well into adulthood. Daarik exchanged a look with his grandmother, and she gave him a small nod.

  “All right. Then what we need to do is move quickly. Make Elrek cede control to you by force now, before he and Jarvik can muster a defense,” Dorne said. “Many of the most seasoned warriors are on your side, so that’s to your advantage. But the younger ones, the ones who have known nothing but Earth and war against the humans… they tend to lean more toward what Jarvik wants.”

  “And they outnumber us,” Daarik said, glancing at the lists they’d drawn up at the beginning of the meeting, lists of who they could count on and who they could not. The force they could expect to muster was about half of what Jarvik and his father would have, and that was being generous.

  “They do. But we have most of your elite force, and we all know that one of us is worth ten of any other warrior,” Vrynn said, and it was met with a round of approving grunts and grins, breaking the tension around the table. “But we should still move as soon as possible,” he added.

  Daarik nodded. “We will move quickly. It’s the best way to do this. But I want to try to speak to my father first.”

  “Daarik, you’ve tried that already,” Baerne argued.

  “I tried it with Jarvik sitting there, hissing at him like the snake he is. I need to get father alone. I can make him see reason.”

  “You hope,” Dorne said.

  “I hope,” Daarik agreed. “But there is more of a chance of that if I speak to him alone.”

  “Good luck with that. Jarvik is on him like fleas on a dog,” Baerne said.

  Daarik glanced at Faerlah. “That’s where Grandmother comes in, if she’ll agree to it,” he said, and she gave him a broad smile.

  “Of course, grandson of mine,” she said. “What do you need?”

  Less than an hour later, Faerlah was resting in her hut and several runners had been sent to Jarvik to beg the healer for help. No one, no matter which side of the argument they were on, would look kindly on Jarvik or Elrek for letting one of their most respected elders fall ill and refuse to help them. And Faerlah was one of the most beloved, a grandmother in spirit to all. Daarik watched from an out of the way hut as Jarvik and a couple of Daarik’s own men, lower-rank soldiers, rushed past toward Faerlah’s hut. It was then that he, Baerne, Dorne, and Vrynn quickly exited the hut and made their way to the castle. A few words with the guards at Elrek’s door, men who, just the day before, had served Daarik himself, and he was in, leaving all of his men behind.

  His father sat behind his desk, surrounded, as always, with books and scrolls. He looked up at Daarik, forehead creased.

  “Where are my men?” he asked, setting down his pen and leaning back in his chair. His tone was formal, but not unkind or angry. Daarik took hope in that.

  “Outside with my men. I needed a moment of your time.” He thought to say something like “without Jarvik,” but thought better of it.

  “I’m glad you came, son,” Elrek said. “We need to straighten this mess out. Our people don’t need another war.”

  “Agreed,” Daarik said with a grateful sigh.

  “Just let this go,” Elrek said with a nod. “We’ll chalk it up to stress of a new marriage, and everything will go back to the way it was.”

  “A generous offer, father,” Daarik said. “But I think, still, that I am ready to serve as leader. I think you’ve earned a retirement. And I think that your advisors stand in the way of us gaining peace with the humans,” he said as blandly as possible, not wanting to incite another argument, but needing to state his case. “I believe in true peace with the humans. As you once did, before Jarvik had your ear.”

  “Your wife is twisting your mind,” Elrek said with an irritated wave of his hand.

  “She is not,” Daarik sighed. “Father, you know this. Once upon a time, you despised Jarvik for his anti-human views. You were determined to hold to our values, to stick to the old ways.”

  “And meanwhile, we die here,” Elrek said tiredly. “Sometimes, change is essential.”

  “Then let it be the change of partnering with our former enemies to survive. Not in playing games. Not in framing my wife for something she didn’t do. Jarvik wants war. Ironic, isn’t it, that those who most often clamor for war are those who will not be the ones out on the battlefield?”

  Elrek stayed quiet for several long moments. Daarik heard raised voices in the corridor, a sign that his peaceful time with his father would probably be coming to an end.

  “You groomed me, trained me to lead. You know the welfare of our people is the only thing that has ever mattered to me. I’m begging you now, let us stay in peace. Let me lead, and be my advisor in all things, as you always have been. This is all I ask of you, father,” he finished as the voices in the corridor got louder.

  Elrek sat in silence for a while longer. Daarik could hear Jarvik now, shouting at Daarik’s men to let him through. Daarik knew that, soon, he would order Elrek’s men to attack Daarik’s. Blood would be shed, for no reason at all.

  “You are right,” Elrek said quietly. “I have been a fool. This ends, now.”

  “Father?” Daarik asked, barely able to even let himself hope that this had worked.

  Elrek looked at him. “Everything you say is true. Everything. And I have been a fool. I am old. I’m tired, and I’m weak. No more. You speak truth, my son. My king.”

  Daarik heaved a deep, grateful sigh and bent knee to his father. “Not yet, I am not.”

  “But you will be. And may you forgive me for being an ass. I feel like I can’t think sometimes through the exhaustion. I grow confused… I am sorry, son.”

  Daarik sat in the chair across from his father and leaned toward him, over the large desk. “I don’t blame you. Let me remove Jarvik. He is not healthy to be around.”

  “Jarvik saved my life, son,” Elrek said with a smile. “I know you dislike him. And I h
ear you. I know he is anti-human and in my confusion I have been too easily swayed by him. He has been at my side through all of the worst moments of my life. I know he’s ambitious, impatient. I know. But he’s also been a steadfast friend in his way. Let me handle him. We put this behind us, immediately. And we will hold your kingship ceremony as soon as possible, so that I may rest.”

  “Except when you’re advising me,” Daarik said with a grin.

  Elrek gave a wheezy laugh. “Except then. And I look forward to that part. Even if you’re stubborn to a fault,” he said with a laugh, and Daarik found himself laughing along as well. He felt about a thousand years younger, so much lighter. He and Elrek were starting to speak again when the doors slammed open and Jarvik ran through.

  “What did you do?” he shouted at Daarik.

  “You will not speak so to my son,” Elrek said, standing up. “He’s done nothing.”

  “They tricked me. The old woman is not ill at all,” Jarvik seethed.

  Elrek seemed to be hiding a smile. He glanced at Daarik. “Your plan?”

  Daarik just nodded, and Elrek laughed.

  “My king,” Jarvik began, and Elrek shook his head. He pointed at Daarik.

  “Starting tomorrow, he is your king,” he told Jarvik. After a stunned moment, Jarvik seemed to compose himself. He turned to Elrek as if Daarik wasn’t even there.

  “Elrek, I think you should reconsider,” he said, drawing himself closer to the elderly Maarlai. Daarik watched. “Didn’t we just discuss this? He is not ready. He is compromised. You agreed, not even hours ago.”

  “I am tired, and he is ready to lead. That’s it. Enough,” he said, raising his voice a bit when Jarvik opened his mouth to argue. Jarvik clamped his mouth shut with an audible click of his teeth, then gave Daarik an icy glare.

  “Very well, my king,” he said. “As you wish it.”

  “Meet with me bright and early, son,” Elrek said. “And we will have you anointed as ruler before midday.”

  Daarik bowed to his father. “Thank you, father.”

  “Go. Go on,” Elrek said, waving Daarik away with a smile. “Enough of this. Back to life and things that actually matter.”

  Daarik nodded, bid his father good evening, and then turned and walked out. His men followed him.

  “I can’t believe it was that easy,” Baerne said, glancing back at the now-closed doors of Elrek’s study.

  “I knew if I was able to speak with him alone, it would work itself out. Damnable Jarvik.” He looked back at the doors. “Baerne?”

  “Hm?”

  “Would you stand guard? Watch over father? I don’t trust that snake with him.”

  “He definitely wasn’t happy,” Vrynn agreed.

  Baerne nodded. “I’ll handle it.”

  Daarik clasped his brother’s hand. “Thank you. For everything. I am glad this will end without bloodshed, but it meant a great deal that you were at my side through it all.”

  Baerne nodded. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for our people. This is important, and it was my pleasure to be there.”

  Daarik nodded, patted his brother’s shoulder, then walked away with Dorne and Vrynn.

  “Time to get the men back to what they should be doing,” he said, suppressing a sigh. All he really wanted to do was tell his wife about how well it had gone, to get her reaction to it all. He wished Janara had been around, but she still hadn’t returned from wherever she’d hustled off to. So, for the time being, he walked among his soldiers, inspected the village defenses, and worked at fixing the small fractures among his people that just a day of rivalry had already caused.

  They would rebuild, stronger, and with the humans. It was the only way they would survive.

  Shannen and Janara sat on the floor in Shannen and Daarik’s suite, leaning back against the bed. They’d been sitting that way for quite a while, talking back and forth about what Janara had found and what it meant, if anything.

  “I mean, it is not as if I can just stroll up to my uncle’s palace and say ‘oh, hello uncle, yes I’d like that crown you stole from me, please,’” Shannen said.

  “Obviously not. He did steal it from you, which means you can be assured that he won’t give it up without a fight.”

  “And here I am, without an army.” Shannen closed her eyes. “If I even wanted it at all.”

  “Right.”

  “What would I do with leadership even if I gained it? I have no idea how to rule.”

  “If you say so.”

  They sat in silence for a while longer.

  “You did hear about the skirmish at Delas-Mar, right?” Janara asked her, and Shannen sighed. Another day, another group of humans attacking a Maarlai settlement. This time, the Maarlai had pushed them back, thankfully.

  “I did.”

  “More human lives lost. More Maarlai lives lost. Delas-Mar is one of those border regions your uncle doesn’t care about, I suppose?”

  Shannen didn’t answer.

  “Daarik needs me.”

  She glanced at Janara to see her friend staring at the wall, clearly deep in thought.

  “I need an army.”

  “I have the feeling more than a few of us would fight for you to claim your birthright,” she said. “Yes, princess, I fight. I can catalogue and care for books and run a man through equally well.”

  “I don’t doubt it. I have never seen you fight, is all.”

  “Well, I do. Very well, which is why I’m on Daarik’s war council.”

  Shannen nodded.

  “And you have some ability in that as well, from what I saw that day with Iriel,” Janara said.

  “Self-defense. Battle is something else, as you well know.”

  “It doesn’t matter. With Daarik, me, Baerne, and maybe a few others at your back, you’ll have your throne in no time.”

  “I never said I wanted it,” Shannen muttered.

  “And yet here we are, talking about it for the last four hours,” Janara answered, leaning her head back against the side of the mattress again.

  “I am keeping you from Daarik and his council,” Shannen realized.

  Janara shrugged. “This is just as important. Possibly more so.”

  Shannen blew out a breath. “What do you want from me? Do you want to hear me say that I want it? That the second I read that law, I wanted that damned crown more than I’ve wanted almost anything else in my life?”

  “Something like that,” Janara said calmly. “But the question is, what are you going to do about it? All it takes is a word.”

  “I can’t claim it with a Maarlai army at my back,” Shannen said.

  “Why not? You’re one of us by marriage.”

  “It will be difficult enough for some of the humans to accept me, even if I do win the crown from him. If I fight him with a Maarlai army, it just becomes another loss to the Maarlai. I need a human army.”

  Janara stared at her in disbelief. “And where are you going to get a human army?”

  “Exactly.”

  They fell into silence again, each of them lost in thought. A plan was beginning to develop, but she realized almost as soon as she considered it that the real battle would not be in raising an army or even fighting her uncle’s soldiers. It would be making Daarik see that she needed to leave.

  “Besides, you can’t spare anyone. Not now, not if the Maarlai are on the verge of war,” Shannen said, and Janara sighed.

  “What a mess.” A few moments later, Janara stood up and held out a hand, pulling Shannen up from the floor as well.

  “I should not have said anything about it to you,” Janara said, and Shannen glared at her.

  “You would keep something like that from me?”

  “You’re going to go off and do something that’s going to get you killed, and then my cousin will hate me for the rest of his life.”

  “I’m not going to get killed,” Shannen said. “I don’t even know if I plan to do anything about it at all. I need to learn more. I n
eed to figure out what kind of support I can expect.”

  Janara just gave her a look. “Promise me you won’t leave without telling someone. Me, if you must, but preferably Daarik.”

  “I would not leave without telling him,” Shannen answered.

  Janara nodded, then walked out. As the door clicked shut behind her, Shannen began to pace and think.

  How does one raise an army, anyway?

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Daarik was finally able to go back to Shannen again, after a day spent soothing nerves and reassuring his people that everything was fine, he found his wife sitting at the small desk she’d claimed, staring out the window. She rested her chin in her hands and, as was typical, was so deep in thought that she hadn’t heard him enter. He stood near the door and watched her for a while, not wanting to break the spell, wanting to remember this moment and the way she looked with the late-day sun shining on her, the light hitting her hair in such a way that it looked like molten onyx.

  “Shannen,” he said quietly, and, for once, she did not jump, but turned to him, blinking, as if he’d woken her from a deep sleep. She smiled at him.

  “Congratulations,” she said.

  “You heard, then?”

  She nodded. “I went down to grab a bite to eat and Miyan told me. You’re to be crowned in the morning, then?”

  He nodded and went to her. He knelt down and took her hands in his. “And you will rule with me.”

  She blinked, then squeezed his hands. “So… all you had to do was speak with him?” she asked.

  He studied her for a moment. “Yes. Away from Jarvik. My father is old, and in his own words, ‘confused.’ He is more than ready to rest. He’ll continue on in an advisory role.”

  She nodded, then brought his hand to her lips. She gently kissed each of his knuckles, and he felt himself stirring. Shannen’s lips, anywhere on his body, was apparently enough to drive him insane. He pulled her up and lowered his lips to hers, and her contented sigh against his mouth made him need her just a little more. He claimed her lips and, in the next moment, was working on the buttons that held her gown closed.

 

‹ Prev