Silent Kingdom

by Rachel L. Schade

  Then the hill rose before us with the Leader’s home shining like a beacon on top. Each window glittered with the lights of dozens of candles set all about the house. But far more breathtaking was the landscape stretching below it. Its flowers gently nodded on the breeze as their sweet aroma drifted toward me, and every tree and shrub was alight with hundreds of sparkling orbs, like small stars that had descended to earth for an evening. As we drew closer, I realized they were fireflies, blinking as they rested on the plants or danced in the air.

  Although I’d been to the garden many times in daylight over the years, I had never seen it in its full glory at night before. Every year, Evren celebrated and remembered the town’s dedication to serve the Giver of Life with the Great Feast, but only once every five years did Evren hold the feast in the garden. This was the only time, other than one day a week, when it appeared in its full glory for all of the citizens to enjoy.

  Rev stopped outside the garden to let us out before he took the horse and carriage to the stables.

  As Lyanna and I entered the garden, the chill winter air dissipated and mellow warmth greeted us. Fireflies twinkled all around and a few even landed in Lyanna’s hair, making us both smile like giddy children. We pulled off our cloaks and draped them over a tree branch before joining a gathering around tables set beneath a cluster of trees. Torches flickered all around the garden to brighten the night, although the stars overhead flared with such intensity and the fireflies were so numerous that they hardly seemed necessary.

  I stared around at the beauty surrounding me and wondered if I should try speaking to the Giver again. I hoped he listened to my pleas to protect my aunt and cousin, though he didn’t seem to listen to me whenever I asked for answers about my past. Here in the garden dedicated to him, I always hoped that he would be more likely to hear me and that I would be more likely to hear from him. Or maybe answers don’t matter anymore, and I’ll never have another incident like I did when I was thirteen. Maybe it’s time to forget. It’s part of the past.

  “Elena!” Avrik’s voice rang out behind me, and my worries were forgotten.

  I turned to see him approaching with his father. Both of them were dressed in black pants and boots and pressed white shirts, and I was relieved to see that Avrik had substituted a hunting knife for his bow and quiver. Avrik’s short chestnut hair was almost neat, except for the few strands standing on end that the wind had probably tousled on the ride here. His eyes widened when he saw me. “Lyanna did good work, didn’t she?” he asked with a grin.

  My heart hammered against my chest as I nodded.

  Avrik offered me his arm. “Walk with me?”

  We strolled away from the cluster of people, following a dirt path that wound through clusters of tall bushes and flowers of vibrant red, blue, and gold. The garden’s perfume was heavy here, offering a peaceful atmosphere that eased the cares and worries of the world.

  Nearby, a group of men and women seated beneath a large tree with low overhanging boughs began to play their instruments. The notes of harps, jiadros, violins, and wymets arose and blended into a sweet, soft melody until one woman raised her voice in an old Alrenian song addressed to the Giver of Good Things.

  “Val re shem thyre…”

  Her song wound through the garden, a gentle rhythm on the breeze. I recognized the tune and knew she sang of beauty and life, of happiness and love. I was thankful for the dim, flickering glow about us, because I could feel my cheeks turning pink.

  What is wrong with me? It’s only Avrik.

  He spoke and pulled me from my thoughts. “This is my favorite celebration in Evren,” he said, staring up at the sky. The constellations seemed so close here in the garden, even closer than they had up on the palace tower with Gillen when I was a girl. “It’s when I’m in the garden that everything seems…clearer to me. If I could come here every day, I would, but I know it’d be frowned upon to set foot in this sacred place so often, unless I became Leader. I suppose the peacefulness of this place clears my thoughts.”

  The song ended. Avrik paused, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a loud, powerful voice echoing through the garden. I peered through the trees ahead and caught a glimpse of the Evren Leader standing near more tables laden with food.

  “Welcome, citizens of Evren!” Corin cried. “I am pleased to celebrate another Great Feast with you here in Evren’s garden and commemorate the day Evren was committed to our Giver of Blessings. Please, eat and take your fill, sing and rejoice, and enjoy this evening spent with friends and loved ones. Give thanks to the Life-Giver and rejoice with me!”

  Citizens all around us cheered and applauded, but Avrik was silent and thoughtful beside me. When the excitement faded and the singing resumed, he was still gazing out over the grounds, his fingers toying with the hunting knife strapped to his belt. Rousing himself, he smiled at me. “Should we eat?”

  Should you tell me what’s on your mind? I responded in my head, but I nodded.

  We returned to the tables and loaded plates with heaping piles of the different foods the citizens had contributed: roasted chicken, venison, turkey, and sugared ham; fresh bread and butter and cheeses; baked apples and berries gathered from the garden and teeming with flavor; pastries and cakes smothered in frosting; and countless other dishes stretching endlessly across the tables. Joining a group seated at one of the tables near a patch of delicate blue embyth, Avrik muttered something about drinks and dashed off to fetch us some.

  Impatient, my stomach growling in anticipation, I began picking at my food until Jayn approached the table with her friend Emalet. Their golden hair shimmered in the light as they leaned toward each other, murmuring and giggling together. Jewelry inlaid with gleaming sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds hung from their necks and arms, and their deep blue and green skirts swayed around their hips while they walked. Their fathers were frequently away on travels, but they were wealthy merchants who provided only the best for their families.

  “I cannot wait to finish school,” Jayn said, pausing within earshot of my seat. “Mother can concentrate on training me to run a home properly and be a good wife.” A dreamy smile played about her lips.

  “Do you think we will attract many suitors?” Emalet asked breathlessly, her violet eyes wide with eagerness and apprehension.

  “I have my eye on someone.” Jayn’s voice took on a sly tone. “I wouldn’t need many suitors, as long as I captured the affections of one good man.” She toyed with the braid tumbling down her back.

  Emalet beamed. “Oh! I know who.” She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. “But what about…” Her voice drifted away.

  My jaw clenched, because I already knew who they were talking about. I glanced back down at my food, staring hard at a slice of Lyanna’s bread and a piece of cheese and trying hard to pretend I wasn’t listening, that I hadn’t heard a thing. Ignore them, I told myself.

  “She can’t even speak,” Jayn said, not even trying to lower her voice. “Who would want a mute woman?” She laughed cruelly.

  I swallowed hard. Suitors? Men? Is that all they think about? If I could speak, I would have so much more to say.

  Quickly, I tried to shake away my anger. It does not matter. What they say doesn’t matter, and I don’t care about suitors. I’m only seventeen.

  But then why did my stomach tighten? When had Jayn’s idle speech ever cut me like this?

  Avrik returned to the table bearing two cups of golden agma juice, and Jayn spun quickly to meet his gaze. “Hi, Avrik. It’s nice to see you here tonight,” she said sweetly.

  Emalet blushed and looked down at her feet, giggling idiotically. I wondered how she would fare with my practice sword pointed at her perfect nose.

  “Hi, Jayn, Emalet.” Avrik returned Jayn’s smile and set our cups down at the table.

  “You look handsome.” Jayn batted her long eyelashes at Avrik, who returned the gesture by blinking and averting his gaze. “Perhaps after dinner, when the dancing starts
, you will be my partner?”

  He smiled. “Thank you. I look forward to it.”

  My fist tightened around my fork so tightly I half expected to break it in two. Clearing his throat, Avrik sat beside me and tossed back a long draught of his agma. I didn’t release my grip on my fork until the girls walked away, whispering eagerly to one another.

  Trying to ignore the trembling in my hands, I forced myself to eat a few bites of food. I didn’t even notice what I was eating or how it tasted; everything melded into dry clumps in my mouth and lodged in my throat.

  Avrik turned to me. “I’m sorry.” He spoke in a low voice that rose just above the music.

  I glanced at him, trying to keep my expression light.

  “Can you imagine Jayn’s great shame when she dances with me?” He winked and chuckled. “Clearly she thinks I have improved since the last town celebration.”

  The tension in my chest released and I smiled back.

  His face turned solemn. “But earlier…I was thinking about the future, and how everything will change once we finish school. Remember how we always talked about traveling together to see Toryn, and Alrenor…even the lands and kingdoms across the Great Sea, like Teramyl and Brevinn?” He reached out and rested his hand on mine, but I yanked my hand away in surprise and embarrassment.

  Frowning, he pulled back in his chair until the distance between us felt like miles. “What is wrong?” he asked.

  I shook my head, pressing my lips together and cursing my stupidity. He’s your friend. Don’t be a fool.

  “Are you all right?” he pressed.

  I nodded, hoping he would let the matter go. Dissatisfied but realizing I wasn’t going to share my troubles, he gave in. Our silence extended as men and women walked past us or joined us at our table, nodding in our direction or exchanging greetings and pleasantries with Avrik.

  Finally, Avrik shifted in his chair uncomfortably and fidgeted with his cup. “What I wanted to say, was that…” He hesitated. “Do you want the life that Lyanna wants for you?” His gaze was intent, searching my face. “Do you want to spend time, three years perhaps, continuing to learn about cooking and knitting and…” He waved his hand vaguely into the distance. “Whatever else women are supposed to know.”

  I smirked at that, and he took my amusement as encouragement. “Or…do you want the life we dreamed about? I’ll be a hunter and trader like my father—he’s been training me all my life—and you can travel with me to all those distant lands we want to see. You’re my closest friend, Elena, and you don’t want to…I mean,” he stammered, “I don’t want you to…”

  A woman’s cry erupted from somewhere nearby, causing all talk and music in the garden to cease. Eerie and uncomfortable, the quiet enveloped us. Everyone looked around, trying to find the source of the sound. Avrik leapt to his feet, reaching for his dagger.

  “Help!” A form came into view, staggering and panting beneath the shade of a thicket of trees at the far side of the garden. The moonlight fell upon her face and I recognized Selna. She looked pale and her black hair tumbled down in ragged tangles, as if she had run the entire length of the town to us. Blood stained the front and sleeves of her dress. Gasps and murmurs broke out.

  “A man has been attacked. I need the Healer!”

  Velnik, Evren’s healer, rushed forward. “What happened?” he asked.

  “One of the sedwa attacked,” Selna choked out. “My husband found a man in the woods. He’s at the inn.”

  Velnik dashed out of the garden with Selna behind him. Everyone else began talking at once. The peace of the evening was shattered, with anxious mothers grasping for their children and people everywhere asking questions that couldn’t be answered by anyone.

  Fear made the warm, sweet air of the garden feel icy against my skin. Closing my eyes, I could see a flash of gold staring at me from the darkness. I was thirteen years old, trapped in Evren Forest as I faced down one of the sedwa… My eyes snapped open to reality, but I didn’t feel much better.

  “Will we be safe in our own homes?” a woman cried fearfully. “The sedwa were supposed to be a myth!”

  “It’s Kyrin’s fault,” a man standing close to our table said, his gruff voice rising over the tumult around us. He pointed toward Kyrin, where he stood with a cup still in his hand. “We would still be safe, if it weren’t for him. He travels deeper into Evren Forest and further into the mountains than any of our other hunters. His activities are provoking the sedwa!”

  Avrik grabbed my hand tightly. I lifted my gaze to his and met his silent appeal: Don’t let them blame my father for this. His face was taut; his lips a thin line. He pulled me with him as he dashed toward his father, who was meeting the accusatory looks of the citizens surrounding him with stony silence.

  I found Lyanna and Rev sitting at the table behind Kyrin. Relieved to see Avrik and me, they scrambled to their feet.

  “Let’s leave,” Avrik said. He cast the people around us a dark look. “I have no desire to celebrate with people who wish to turn on their own.”

  ~ ~ ~

  As we trudged behind Lyanna, Rev, and Kyrin toward Rev’s carriage, Avrik maintained an angry silence. We donned our cloaks and exited the garden to enter the cold night once more. I watched Avrik’s dark eyes study the sky and imagined what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Part of me thought I could sympathize. Almost. After all, any cruel rumors or talk about my father would be well-founded. But I could imagine how I’d feel if anyone spoke badly about Rev.

  Biting my lip, I tugged my cloak closer to block the chill wind. I wanted to say something, but after years of silence I finally felt resigned to the fact that, for whatever reason, I might never be able to speak again.

  I contented myself with reaching out and touching Avrik’s shoulder. His step faltered, and he paused and turned toward me. The wind whipped around us, brushing long strands of hair into my eyes and billowing my skirts and cloak around me. His brow was furrowed and his expression pleading when he searched my gaze. It was then that I noticed the stubble shadowing his cheeks and chin. In that instant, with the weight of his worries hovering over him, he looked older, more mature yet more conflicted: gone was the lighthearted friend of my childhood and in his place was a troubled young man.

  “You don’t believe all of those rumors about my father, do you?” His voice was low.

  My face involuntarily matched his frown. I blinked and shook my head, trying to cheer him with a smile.

  “Good,” he whispered, and pulled me into a hug. His embrace brought welcome warmth to my shivering frame. Since I couldn’t say anything to reassure him, I clung to him tightly instead, hoping this gesture would mean more than words. As he pulled away, a strange emptiness settled in my stomach.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Avrik said when we reached the stables.

  Rev paused before our carriage and turned back to Kyrin. “Would you like a ride home?”

  Kyrin shook his head. “We’ll be fine walking.”

  Opening the door for Lyanna and me, Rev gave Kyrin a friendly nod. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight to you all,” Kyrin responded. Without another word, he and Avrik set off into the night. I sighed and watched Avrik’s form shrink away into the distance, until he was swallowed up by the blackness.

  CHAPTER 8

  The next day, I woke with a heavy heart. I rolled over with a sigh, and then I remembered: Gillen. His eighteenth birthday was next month. My heart ached.

  Someday soon, Misroth City would be filled with celebrating citizens as Gillen, finally of age, accepted the throne. The streets would be decorated with banners, singers would lift their voices in celebration, and children would wave ribbons at the royal procession.

  Tears stabbed my eyes. What I would give to be there to see Gillen crowned, to congratulate him and let him know how proud I was of him.

  Please let him be safe, I begged the Life-Giver. Let him be the strong king I know he can be.

  I stared ou
t at the Vorvinian Mountains through my window, knowing it couldn’t be that simple. Anxiety tugged at my heart. My father won’t give up power easily. Would he poison my cousin like he had his father? Or would he try to manipulate Gillen once he began his rule?

  With a sigh, I pulled myself out of bed. Entering Misroth City would mean death for me if I was recognized. What could I do against my father? Who would believe me if I tried to spread the truth, even if I could speak? Returning to the capital would be suicide.

  I wiped my tears from my cheeks and prepared for school. As I walked toward the front door, passing Lyanna where she was seated by the fireplace, she glanced up from her sewing. “You look upset, dear. Is everything all right?”

  I pulled my journal and pencil from my pack and wrote, Nightmares. It wasn’t a lie, so I could share it; it just wasn’t all of the truth either.

  Lyanna’s brow crinkled with sadness. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I hope you have a good day at school.”

  With a smile, I walked outside to meet Avrik.

  At school, the rumors about last night’s sedwa attack continued to circulate, much to Avrik’s frustration.

  “The man is an outsider,” Bren shared with us eagerly at lunch. “I heard he comes from Misroth City itself.”

  My stomach jolted at the mention of my old home.

  “Does it matter?” Avrik mumbled.

  Bren’s face was firm. “Just because we are interested in the stranger, or even the attack itself, does not mean we are accusing your father.”

  Avrik stared down at his sandwich and did not respond.

  “Will he live?” Shilam asked.

  Bren shrugged. “Who can say? We can only hope.”

  Jaren bit into a slice of cheese. “He will have an interesting story to share, if he does.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Lyanna greeted me cheerfully at the door when I returned from school, darting inside quickly to escape the blustery weather. “How was your day?” she asked.