Silent Kingdom

by Rachel L. Schade

  It wasn’t a large room, and, if anything, it was dusty, but it was a good surprise. Rows upon rows of shelves full of leather-bound books covered the walls. A small writing desk rested before the window, while in a corner, a small armchair created the perfect retreat for reading. My heart quickened in my chest as I approached the shelves and traced several books’ spines, reading their titles and soaking in the possibilities of knowledge and wonder this room held.

  Avrik was studying my face in triumph. “I knew you would like it!” he said. Then his expression grew serious, and he lowered his voice. “This was my mother’s library.”

  I shot him a quick glance. You want me to read these books?

  “When you’re reading…that’s the only time…well, one of the only times you really look happy…” His voice trailed off. “I come here a lot to sit and read or think. I wanted you to know that you can come here any time you want, and you can borrow any book you’d like. I know Lyanna and Rev don’t have as many books. He’s more interested in numbers, and she in gardening and cooking.”

  I crossed the room and ran my fingers along several book spines, relishing the smooth leather beneath my fingertips, the scent of crisp old pages hanging thickly in the air like a familiar perfume. There were fiction books, history books, and informative books...the largest collection I had ever seen outside of the castle libraries. The possibility of reading every one of those books brought a sense of excitement to my being like nothing else could. More than anything, I craved answers to the questions plaguing my days, solutions to the problems haunting my nightmares.

  Could one of these books hold answers to my questions? Could they tell me what is wrong with me…why I can’t lie, why I couldn’t stop myself from speaking the truth? How I knew the truth in the first place? The questions pounded through my head. Are there others like me, people who see visions and know truth? If I stay silent, are the words gone forever?

  But the answers did not come in the way I hoped they would.

  FOUR YEARS LATER

  CHAPTER 7

  “Are you prepared to lose?” Bren teased, nudging Avrik’s shoulder and sinking into a fighting stance.

  “Are you?” Avrik fired back, lifting his practice sword to meet his friend’s.

  The firelight from the living room hearth flashed across their faces as they smirked at one another for a half second before plunging into their third skirmish of the evening. I closed the book lying on my lap and settled back into my armchair to fully appreciate their performance. Lifting my hand to my mouth, I tried to conceal my amusement, but the boys were too intent on their mock battle to mind my reactions.

  “Two out of three!” Bren cried, the point of his sword pressed to Avrik’s throat.

  Avrik dove back, the floorboards creaking beneath him as he landed, and aimed a kick at Bren’s knee. With a grunt, Bren lost his footing as Avrik leapt to his feet and pressed his own sword to Bren’s chest.

  “You were too cocky,” he said with a shrug. Grinning, he stepped back and swept his arm wide in a flourish.

  Bren scoffed, muttering something unintelligible. Tossing aside his practice sword, he tramped toward the settee and plopped down. Leaning forward, he carefully lifted his jiadro from its case and ran his fingers along its polished wood surface and taut strings. Settling into an upbeat tune, he glanced toward me and then back at Avrik.

  “Are we going to let Elena practice her dancing now, or continue to train her in weapons until she awes every man she meets?”

  If you only knew the balls I’ve already attended, the hours of practice I’ve endured, I thought, but I had already agreed to this earlier. I could imagine the questions I would be asked if I didn’t pretend to still be perfecting my graceful steps and twirls like the rest of the Evren youth. Every night for weeks, Rev and I had been dancing partners, twisting and twirling through the living room, the garden, or beside Lyanna in the kitchen, much to her frustration.

  Avrik raised his brows and a playful light danced in his eyes. “I haven’t finished training you in weapons yet.”

  Bren rolled his eyes.

  “All right,” Avrik sighed. “If she wants, you may practice for the Great Feast.”

  Bren handed his instrument to Avrik, who began plucking at the strings absentmindedly.

  I stood and smoothed my skirt as Bren extended a hand to me. He was tall and sturdy, already losing the lanky build of a youth and looking more like his father, a farmer near the outskirts of Evren, each day. “I’ve practiced with my three sisters for months,” he said, leading me toward the center of the room. “There are so few times in Evren that we dance, so naturally most of the girls are beside themselves.”

  He grasped my hand and waist while I reached for his shoulder, and Avrik began to play, his rhythm occasionally sounding off before he sank into a steady pace. I was surprised with how graceful Bren was as he swept me across the floor, his feet never once faltering, his steps all landing exactly where they were supposed to.

  “You’re doing well,” he said after several minutes. He glanced over his shoulder at his friend. “I think she should teach you now. How else do you expect to keep the interest of a pretty girl?” he teased. “Do you want them to gaze longingly at you the way they did today ever again?”

  Gritting my teeth, I unconsciously tightened my grasp on Bren, digging my fingers into his shoulder. He cringed. “Ow!”

  Sheepishly, I smiled an apology and glanced down at the floor.

  “Do you mean the way they look at me every day?” Avrik asked slyly.

  Bren and I both rolled our eyes.

  “All right,” Bren said. “Let me play and you may dance now. It’s time for you to participate in something you do not have a talent for.”

  I stepped back, letting Bren walk back to the settee and pry the jiadro from Avrik’s hands. Standing, Avrik crossed his arms. He was not as broad-shouldered as Bren, but taller than both him and me by several inches. His eyes sparked with mischief and his smile still lit up his face in the familiar, boyish way the schoolgirls had admired for years.

  “I only tease you because you are so envious, as if you think the girls never look at you,” Avrik told Bren. “Perhaps if you only talked to Dienn already…”

  Cheeks flushed, Bren stared down at his jiadro, intent on strumming the strings to warm up for his song.

  Avrik turned to me and held out his hand. “May I torment you with this dance?” he asked, smiling sweetly.

  I bit my lip to repress a smile.

  “Take her hand already!” Bren ordered as he lifted the jiadro.

  Avrik reached out and grasped my hand, gently pulling me closer, and my heart quickened. As I set my hand on his shoulder, I refused to meet his gaze and stared down at my feet instead, pretending that I needed to concentrate on my steps.

  “Injuries are inevitable, so I hope you don’t plan on being able to use your feet again for the next week,” Avrik continued.

  Bren started to mutter something, but seemed to think better of it and began to play instead.

  At that instant, the door opened and Kyrin stepped in, his tall form filling the entryway.

  Immediately, Avrik released my hand and pulled away. He strode over to greet his father, who dropped a travel-stained pack by the door and rubbed his temples wearily. Before Avrik could say anything, Kyrin muttered, “I stopped at Wanderer’s Rest on my way home, and Corin has returned from the palace. He is calling for an assembly at the inn tonight to share what he has learned, and he seemed troubled. We need to go.”

  Bren, Avrik, and I exchanged glances. “I should find my family,” Bren said, placing his jiadro in its case and reaching for his cloak, where he had strewn it across the settee.

  Kyrin turned to me. “Rev is already there, if you wish to accompany us.”

  I nodded, grasping my cloak as Avrik donned his, gathered his bow and quiver, and put out the fire. We set off into the evening, a bitter wind rustling through our hair and cloaks as
we turned our faces toward the dying light in the west to walk into town. Bren waved and dashed ahead of us, moving north toward his family’s farm. As Avrik, Kyrin, and I passed my home, a tendril of smoke curled from the chimney and I imagined Lyanna standing beside the hearth, stirring a pot and waiting for Rev and me to return.

  As we entered town, we joined growing crowds in the streets composed of men, women, and children gathering to hear Corin’s news. The assembly grew thicker the nearer we drew to Wanderer’s Rest, until the street was so full of people that we could barely move forward. No matter which way I turned my head, there were far too many townspeople for me to find Rev in their midst. It took some jostling through the group clustered outside the inn before we could see the Evren Leader standing at its doorstep and waving a hand to quiet the townspeople’s murmuring. A member of the King’s Guard, dressed in full uniform, stood beside him.

  I drew a deep breath. Why is a guard in Evren? Will he recognize me too?

  Hearing my gasp, Avrik gave me a sympathetic glance and reached out to squeeze my hand. He leaned in close to whisper, “I would hope not all of the king’s men are scoundrels.”

  When he pulled away, I tried to make my smile look convincing, and he seemed satisfied. He released my hand and turned back toward Corin, who had finally quieted most of the people.

  “I trust most are here now,” he said, scanning the people as if to count them all and raising his voice so that it rang out clearly in the street, even above the occasional whisper or whimper from the children. “As you know, I recently joined the other Leaders of Misroth at the king’s palace in Misroth City. I want to share some grave news with you: the kingdom of Alrenor is attempting to expand its borders once more and reestablish its old empire. Our kingdoms are now at war, and King Zarev is already gathering troops in Argelon to train. The Royal Council has been temporarily disbanded, in order to expedite the king’s ability to make vital decisions while we are at war, and it is likely that soon Misroth will need even Evren’s resources and young men.”

  Kyrin shifted on his feet. “Will they demand every young man’s service?” he called out over the crowd.

  Corin nodded gravely. “Yes.” He gestured to the guard beside him. “One of the king’s Royal Guard, Paol, is here to share more information of His Highness’s plans to protect our kingdom. You may speak to him if you wish to learn more.”

  “I will,” Kyrin muttered, clenching his fists and turning away from the crowd.

  Avrik grasped his father’s arm. “Father, you needn’t worry…”

  “No, you need not worry,” Kyrin said. “Believe me, you will not be going to war. I will see to it.”

  ~ ~ ~

  One week later, on the morning of the Great Feast, everyone was still fretting about the news Corin had brought from Misroth City. As we waited for our teacher to arrive at the schoolhouse, the other students settled into their chairs or gathered into groups near the fire to engage in conversation, but I kept to my seat, poring over maps of the Great Kingdoms.

  “The guard left for Kelwed this morning,” Shilam told Jaren as he and Bren shuffled toward their seats. “Did your father ever have the chance to speak with him?”

  Jaren shook his head. “He’s been busy with his shop, and everyone else in town was eager to speak with the guard as well. He never had the chance.” He shrugged as he settled into his seat. “I don’t see what difference it makes. If the king needs our services, he will call on us and we will go. That is how it has always worked.”

  “Except that we have been at peace for two hundred years, since we broke free of the Alrenian Empire,” Dienn cut in. The boys looked up, surprised to see her turn away from the group of girls she had been hovering near the fire with and approach them. Her dark eyes were wide and her voice trembled. “We haven’t seen war in generations, haven’t had anything but peace and prosperity. And now, as we finish school…” Her eyes drifted to Bren before she glanced down quickly.

  As Bren turned red and started to stammer, I shot a glance at Avrik, who was watching the exchange with a smile playing about his lips and didn’t notice my look. I stared back down at the map before me, tracing my finger from the point I knew Evren, too small to be included on this map, should be, past the capital and Emrell and toward Argelon. I studied the curve of the Layvok River that separated Misroth from Alrenor, that kingdom we had severed ties with long ago, and a familiar longing to explore lands I had never seen overcame me.

  I felt Avrik’s eyes on me and looked up. “Are you worrying like everyone else?” he asked, but the smile hadn’t left his face. He leaned out of his chair to peer over my shoulder at the map I was studying before turning back to me. “Or are you daydreaming again about all the places we will one day explore?” Leaning closer, he lifted his hand and swept a strand of hair back from my cheek. My breath caught in my throat.

  Stop, I ordered myself, and turned my head away. I felt more than saw Avrik sink back into his chair, but I knew he was still watching me. With a sigh, I shut the book and flipped open my journal. Both, I wrote to him. Then, collecting myself with a grin, I added, Who will I put to shame in shooting matches if you are called to Argelon?

  Avrik laughed, but I could see other emotions stirring in the depths of his eyes and robbing him of his carefree expression.

  The schoolhouse door swung inward and Ara stepped inside, offering us all a friendly greeting and putting an end to our conversations.

  “Open your history books first,” she began, but as I flipped my copy open and stared at the text, I could not stop thinking about all that my father was doing in Misroth City and the war he had started, a war affecting the people I loved.

  First Gillen, now Avrik. Could I ever truly escape the king’s influence?

  ~ ~ ~

  The sun was casting its setting glow all the way across the sky, stretching so far it was making even the bare branches of Evren Forest look like they were alight with orange fire. I brushed the flour from my hands onto my apron and peered eagerly out the window.

  “It’s still too early for Rev to arrive home from the bank,” Lyanna laughed when she caught me looking. “It’s time we cleaned ourselves up!”

  I nearly skipped toward my bedroom and my washbasin. Relieved to clean the flour and dough from my hands and face, I sighed and tossed my apron into a corner.

  “Elena!” Lyanna scolded as she walked through the doorway.

  I grinned back at her, and she simply shook her head.

  “I have your dress and cloak ready,” she continued, taking the clothes she had draped over her arm and laying them on my bedspread. She’d kept the new outfit a secret for weeks, insisting that now, as I was a young woman, it was time I had finer attire to wear to special events.

  Standing beside her, I reached down to feel the fabric. The dress was made from purple satin the same shade as the lavender Lyanna grew in her garden, but the bodice and sleeves were covered in a layer of lace. Lying beside it was a deep blue cloak lined in wool. I stared in awe: bright dye was rare in Evren, since not many citizens grew the necessary plants or found them useful to our simple lifestyle, and merchants rarely traded for such a luxury. Lyanna must have paid a small fortune for the fabric to make these clothes. Throwing my arms around her, I gave her a hug to express my gratitude.

  “You’re welcome.” She stroked my hair and beamed down at me. “You deserve something special, and with the Great Feast happening and your education nearly at an end…well, you’re nearly a woman now and you needed something for the occasion.”

  I slipped into the dress and accompanying black slippers, and paused to admire Lyanna’s handiwork in the mirror. The dress felt light and comfortable, with its skirt cascading in longer folds in the back but reaching only to my ankles in the front so I could walk easily. This was nothing like the stifling attire I’d been compelled to wear at the palace. I sighed in relief.

  Lyanna returned to comb my hair and tie some of its waves back with a purple rib
bon. She let the rest fall about my shoulders. “You look beautiful. But wait!” She dashed from the room and returned with a silver necklace adorned with a single diamond. “Rev gave this to me when we were married.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “I think you should wear it tonight.” She clasped the necklace around my neck and turned me to face the mirror once more.

  The diamond rested right beneath the hollow of my neck and sparkled in the evening light like a tiny star. It was strange to see myself in fine clothes and jewelry again. I twirled like a little girl and laughed, making Lyanna laugh too.

  Just then the front door opened and Rev stepped into the living room. “For tonight, I have a coach to escort you to the feast!” he announced proudly.

  Lyanna and I entered the room and Rev paused to give me an appraising look. “Elena, you look …you look like a young woman.” He smiled, but I noticed the slight tremor in his voice. With surprise, I realized how many wrinkles the last few years had added; I noticed how starkly the grey streaks through his hair contrasted with its natural brown.

  It wasn’t long before Lyanna and Rev were dressed in their fine clothes too. We slipped on our cloaks, Lyanna gathered the bread we had made for the feast, and we departed. Rev eagerly opened the door to a small carriage, painted blue, and helped Lyanna and I climb into the cushioned seat in the back. It felt strange, since we usually walked everywhere. Very rarely did Rev need the mare he kept boarded at a stable in town, and I only rode on horseback for pleasure when I wanted to traverse the fields and hills alone. The last time I had ridden in a carriage was four years ago, on a drive through the capital streets with my mother and father. The reminder stung a little, but I shook the feeling away. That was another life. Another me. Halia, not Elena.

  Rev drove over the familiar dirt road, winding through fields and over hills, through the town, and back into the countryside. I peered out the carriage window at the sunset and the fields, now bare and brown in the wintertime. The orange sky faded slowly as the sun slipped past the horizon and the first stars began to twinkle overhead. The closer we drew to the garden, the more carriages I saw joining us along the road, pulling in ahead or behind us from connecting paths.