by J D Abbas
“Careful, Elena, you have a bump on your head,” Silvandir said.
She groaned. “I know exactly where it is.” Rolling to her side, she glanced at Mikaelin. “Are you hurt too?”
“No, I was fortunate. I was well armed.”
“And wisely, he travels with a spare sword to lend to defenseless friends,” Silvandir said. “Things were a little more equal once he appeared.”
Elena worked to sit up again. “Well, the good news is my thigh is the least of my pains now.” She gave a half smile. “How is my ankle?”
“It was a good thing you had sturdy boots. The teeth broke the skin but did little else.” Silvandir shook his head. “I’m not looking forward to explaining this to Celdorn.”
“I will take full responsibility,” Elena told him. “It was my foolhardiness that got us into trouble.”
“But as your escort, I’m the one accountable for your safety and must answer for this.”
“I will tell him the truth. You warned me. You tried to stop me.” Elena gave a heavy sigh. “He’s never going to let me out again.”
“Never is a long time,” Mikaelin said, laughing. “Even Celdorn will relent at some point.”
“Yes, when I’m thirty perhaps.” Elena shook her head. “Oh well, I suppose I fully deserve his wrath. Help me up, and we’ll go face this together.”
~
When they returned to Celdorn’s chamber, Elena was relieved to find him engrossed in a meeting with the leaders of the keep. Unfortunately, Sasha announced their arrival with a loud bark and paws thundering on the flagstone floor as she loped toward Elena. She hid behind the dog as she, Silvandir, and Mikaelin slunk into the room, afraid Celdorn would notice her limping. They sat at the far end of the table and waited while Celdorn listened to reports on the guard tower repairs and kitchen shortages.
Celdorn tried to catch her eye at one point, but she found a sudden, intense interest in the carved edges of the table, her finger tracing all the intricacies. Sasha nudged at her nervous hand, begging for some attention before wiggling her head onto her lap, which made Elena smile and quelled the rising dread.
This dog was good for her—frighteningly massive, but a true gift. Sasha’s love was faithful and unconditional. She had attached herself to Elena from the moment they met. Even after Bria was killed during Anakh’s attack on Elena, Sasha never wavered in her loyalty, never blamed her.
When Celdorn’s meeting concluded and all but his inner circle had left, he looked across the length of the table. “All right you three, what happened?”
Elena immediately hung her head and snuggled into Sasha, not wanting to do this. Before she could speak, Silvandir stood. “Elena was injured falling from Nakhona, and while we were working to get her on her feet again, we were attacked by a pack of wolves.”
“Wolves never come inside the enceinte; what possessed them to do so today?”
Silvandir’s shoulders sagged. “We weren’t inside the enceinte.”
Celdorn’s face went red. “Was I not clear that you were to keep Elena within the protection of our walls? I can’t believe you would risk this with her enemies just waiting for an unguarded moment.” His voice rose, and he glared equally at Silvandir and Mikaelin.
“It wasn’t their fault, Ada. It was I who disobeyed.” Elena straightened in her chair and met Celdorn’s scowl head on. “And I knew exactly what I was doing. Silvandir tried to stop me, but I wouldn’t listen. Mikaelin wasn’t even there until later. I was bent on exploring and having fun. I wasn’t thinking of the risks. I’m responsible for the injuries to Silvandir, Windham, and Nakhona. Don’t be angry with them.”
Celdorn studied Elena then focused on Silvandir. “Tell me what happened,” he said, his voice more even, though his jaw twitched.
Silvandir gave him the details, some of which Elena was unaware. “So, in the end, Elena ended up with a bump on the back of her head, some broken flesh on her ankle and a large bruise on her thigh. Mikaelin and I have a few minor flesh wounds, but our steeds got the worst of it.”
Celdorn turned his attention back to her. “So what am I to do with you, young lady?”
Elena shivered. She hadn’t yet received any form of punishment from her new ada, and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. She hoped he’d be lenient. “Lock me in my room and feed me only bread and water for a week.”
Celdorn opened his mouth then closed it. He put his face in his hand for a moment, and Elena’s fear rose. Perhaps she’d aimed too low, and he was offended.
“As tempting as that may be, I don’t think it’s an appropriate punishment,” he said, unable to meet her gaze.
Elena heard a chuckle from behind her and wondered who was mocking her. She took a deep breath and braced herself as Celdorn stood and walked the length of the table. Mikaelin yielded his chair, and Celdorn sat and took her hand in his. “We don’t practice corporal punishment here, little one. Nor do we lock people in rooms and deprive them of food.”
He squeezed her hand. “Let me see your eyes.” When she looked up, he smiled and continued. “It’s important that you obey my instructions. I don’t give them to hinder your pleasure or ruin your adventures. I’m concerned only for your safety and protection. That being said, if you’re going to pick and choose which of my commands to follow then I’ll need to be more cautious in my granting of privileges.”
Elena waited, and when he said no more, she asked, “Is that all?”
Celdorn looked at her expression and laughed. “Well, I would also like Dalgo or Braiden to examine your injuries, just to make certain there’s no serious damage.”
“But what is my punishment?”
“Is the loss of my trust not punishment enough?”
Elena hung her head. “Yes. It would almost be better to be beaten or whipped.” Tears burned her eyes as she struggled to form the foreign words. “I’m sorry, Ada. I hope I’m able to regain your trust in time.”
“I’m certain you will, little one,” he said, stroking her hair. “Now go see Dalgo.”
~
Celdorn smiled to himself as Elena left the room, limping on her injured ankle. Sasha walked by the girl’s side supporting her. It was so difficult to be angry with Elena. Somehow, she always managed to turn his heart. He hated that his anger roused fear in her. He longed for her to feel safe, at least within the confines of Kelach, or at the very least within his chambers.
“She will in time. She has much to overcome,” Elbrion said from the doorway to Elena’s room, breaking into Celdorn’s reverie and eliciting a scowl.
“You read me far too easily, my friend.” Celdorn gave a light laugh then grew serious. “Strange things just seem to follow Elena. When was the last time a pack of wolves was seen this low in the valley or acted so aggressively toward our men? They seemed focused and intent on dragging her away.” He shook his head. “This doesn’t bode well.”
“No, it does not. I fear we will continue to see more of these events.” Elbrion’s gaze grew distant as he murmured, “How I wish we could keep her safe.”
Chapter 4
Elena went to bed achy but still invigorated by the excitement of the day. She loved riding Nakhona, though she regretted that the filly was injured because of her own longing for freedom. She hoped the night would pass quickly and bring more adventures on the morrow.
In spite of all the new things upon which she longed to focus, the relentless demons of the dark slipped silently past her ever-watchful Guardians to torment her sleep and infiltrate her dreams. They dragged her to their dungeon and fashioned the shackles of the past tightly around her ankles, bludgeoning her with the truth until she screamed in vain for the mercy of the morning.
~
The next day Elena sat at breakfast absently moving her food around on the plate but not eating.
“You haven’t been sleeping well?” The lines around Celdorn’s eyes accentuated the concern in his voice.
She shook her head and continued to s
hift the eggs around with a hunk of bread, the room fading around her.
“Where are your thoughts this morning, little one?”
When Elena lifted her gaze, Celdorn was at the end of a dimly lit tunnel, barely visible. She struggled to form words, her mind muzzy, wondering if he would hear her. “I’ve had… I-I’m bothered by some recurring images in my dreams. They’re so powerful, so real—more like memories than dreams, but they’re… troubling.” Her hands shook as she gripped her head, fearing it might shatter with the pain that pushed outward.
“Of what have you been dreaming?”
At that moment, she wished he could read her thoughts so she wouldn’t have to put it into words. She glanced around at the other men, who were all present this morning, and knew she couldn’t do it.
Celdorn followed her gaze. “Do you want to move onto the balcony?”
She must have nodded, and she must have moved because they ended up on the terrace.
~
Celdorn tried to quell the fear roiling in his stomach. Elena hadn’t shifted but her mind had drifted, almost leaving her as an empty shell again. That was the hardest state for him to deal with. He’d rather interact with the frightened child or the angry, defiant one because… well, because he could interact. Emptiness was disturbing; all one could do was wait until she returned.
“What is it, Elena?” he prompted, hoping to draw her back.
She took a deep breath and gave her head a sharp shake. “I keep having these disturbing dreams.” She stopped.
“What kind of dreams?”
Elena’s eyes went wide, and she froze.
Celdorn’s stomach twisted. “Elena?” He grasped her arm. “Of what have you been dreaming?”
“Of giving birth,” she blurted as if to shove the words out before she froze again. When he arched his brow, she stopped.
Celdorn caught himself and shifted his grip to hold her hand. “It’s all right, little one. Tell me.”
Elena took another deep breath and turned her face away. “The pangs of birth are so real. I feel the whole process; then, as the child comes forth, someone snatches him away before I can hold him. In one dream, it’s a boy. In another, it’s a girl. There’s this overwhelming presence of evil surrounding me as I deliver the child.” A fierce shudder passed through her body.
Celdorn’s heart stood still as an intense wave of grief swept through him, but he worked to keep his expression neutral and his voice steady. “Have you given birth?”
Elena stared at him and torment wrapped around her like a mantle. “I don’t know.” Her distress made the words sound like a sob. “If I have, why don’t I remember? And where is the child? And if I haven’t, why does it feel so real?” She put her splayed hands on her belly, as if trying to imagine a child there.
Celdorn hoped, prayed, these were just thoughts that tormented her in the night. It was difficult to imagine that she’d already given birth at her young age. In Rogaran culture, woman didn’t commonly marry or give birth until after they turned thirty. With their long lifespan, there was no desire to rush young people into the adult world. In Elrodanar society, they waited until they were far older. Even in the Wallanard culture, this was young. Elena had already been deprived of so much of her childhood; she didn’t need this additional loss. Worse yet, he didn’t want to think about what would have become of the child, if it were true.
“Would you like Elbrion’s assistance with this? He may be able to help you find the answer.”
“I don’t know if I want the answer. It terrifies me.”
“But is the truth not better than the wondering and the fear?”
“Not necessarily. If I have given birth and the child taken, that leads to a place I haven’t even imagined—nor do I wish to.”
“And yet, if you can form that thought then the fear and the image are already there.” He studied her in silence. “You already know the answer. You’re afraid to trust your internal sense.”
She gazed up at him, her lower lip quivering. “I don’t want it to be true.”
Celdorn pulled her into his arms. Neither did he. “We must all learn to live with the truth, little one, not with what we hope or wish it to be. Whatever the truth is, you have been living with it already, deep in your heart.”
Elbrion stepped onto the balcony as if he’d been summoned. He must have sensed the intensity of the situation for he stopped by the door, waiting for direction.
Celdorn motioned for him to approach. “Let’s sit on the bench.” With his arm around Elena, Celdorn sat next to her. “Ask him, little one.”
Elbrion sat on the ground in front of her. “What is troubling you, Sheyshon?”
She told him about her dreams. “What I want to know is: are they nightmares or memory?” She was barely breathing as she forced the words from her lips.
Elbrion gazed at her with tenderness. Celdorn saw a slight shift in the rhythm of light pulsing through Elbrion; he was feeling the girl’s anguish. “They are memory.”
Elena’s mouth dropped open with a gasp. “How can you be so certain?”
“I have seen the images inside you.”
Her eyes flitted wildly as if searching for something. Then in a whisper, she asked, “Was it a boy or a girl? And… and do you know what happened to the baby?”
Elbrion glanced at Celdorn with dismay, then reached out and took hold of her hands. “There was a boy and a girl. You have given birth twice.”
Elena pulled one hand free and covered her mouth; a strangled sound died in her throat. Celdorn’s heart sank. How he wished he could save her from this.
“I saw that they took the babies away, but I do not know where. I am only able to see what you observed at the time.”
After Elbrion touched her, a mixture of horror and awe settled on Elena’s face. She stared at him as if he were a window through which she viewed some dreadful event.
“You are seeing it now?”
She yanked her other hand away from Elbrion and stood up. “I don’t want to see any more.” She grabbed her head as she paced along the balcony. “I don’t want to know!” Dropping to her knees, she threw her head back and screamed, “No more!” just before she slammed her forehead into the ground with a sickening thud. She managed to strike it several times before Celdorn could stop her.
He pulled Elena into his arms as she thrashed and fought to pull free. Holding her tightly, he used his sleeve to wipe the blood that oozed from the gash she’d opened on her forehead.
She stared up at him from wild eyes. “Do you know what they’re doing to my children?”
“I imagine they’re experiencing much the same as you did, little one.” I imagine? He didn’t want to imagine it at all. He wanted this nightmare to end, for her, for the other children. How could he have let this go on in the Shalamhar? This was the protected realm. These children were supposed to be protected. By him, the grand Lord Protector. He had utterly failed.
“I’m so sorry,” were the only words he could offer.
“No!” Elena wailed again, clawing at her head as if to tear the thoughts away.
Elbrion knelt, laid hands on Elena, and sang Li Luciana e Briella, the Whispers of Angels, a song that bore celestial peace in each tone. Elena’s body relaxed, and her sobbing subsided. After Elbrion removed his hands, he hurried to Celdorn’s room to retrieve a cloth for Elena’s head; the blood was flowing steadily now. Elbrion pressed it against the wound as Celdorn picked her up and carried her to the bench. They huddled together and remained quiet, focusing on the mountains.
“I was just shy of thirteen the first time,” Elena said, breaking the silence. “Thirteen… Do you know how small I was at thirteen?” She shuddered. “That means the boy is four years old now. The girl would be two. Were there any that young among those at the encampment?”
Celdorn was nauseous. “Yes, a few.”
“For all I know, any of them could be my children. I don’t even know what they look like. I may ha
ve seen them and never known they were mine.” She glanced toward Elbrion. “I wish you could see into other people’s minds from a distance, so you could tell me what they did with my babies.”
“It may be better not to know, Sheya.”
Celdorn asked, “Do you know who fathered your children?”
Elena shoved Elbrion’s hand from her head and stared at Celdorn with horror. He immediately regretted the question.
“I hadn’t considered that.” Elena’s eyes darted. “It could be any of a hundred men, none of whose seed I would want inside me.” She grabbed her mouth as she gagged. “No matter who he is, their father is evil—fathers—they are probably different men. Oh my god, their own fathers could be raping them right now.” Elena jumped up and ran to the balcony as she lost the battle with her stomach.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” Celdorn said. “Forgive me.”
Elena wiped her mouth and turned back toward them. “I don’t know what to do with this. I am helpless, utterly helpless, to do anything.” She sobbed and swiped at the blood that flowed past her eye.
“A mother’s heart can always speak to her children even over great distances, Elena. Speak the words you long to say; their hearts will hear,” Elbrion assured her.
Elena pondered this. Celdorn was relieved when she came back and sat down. Elbrion again pressed the cloth onto her forehead and held it firmly. She spent a long time quietly sitting between them, holding both their hands, as she whispered to the hearts of her children.
Celdorn only caught bits of it. Over and over, she begged for their forgiveness, assured them of her love. The agony in her murmurs broke Celdorn’s heart. He was glad she didn’t look up to see his tears. Somehow, he would make this up to her. Somehow, he would set things right.