by J D Abbas
Chapter 15
The first day of the week arrived, and Yadar Toreno prepared for the service of light in the usual ways. It was a beautiful morning and the sun coming through the etched glass windows made light dance around the sanctuary. He smiled as visions of the original Qajh, of which all the doqajhi were poor imitations, filled his mind. Like the Qajh, this sanctuary had thirteen sides, the walls of which were mostly glass, although not clear gemstones like the original. This building had a wood frame not found in the first because no one could devise a way to construct a building with no frame, nor did anyone know how the Qajh held together. After the Nasara, it just was. An amazing tribute to Qho’el and a clear display of the power of the Jhadhela. How he longed to see it again, to spend time among the Elrodanar in Queyon, but he knew that was not to be. He sighed and wiped away the tears that welled.
Toreno’s mind turned to his plan. Elena’s brothers were to come to worship this morning, accompanied by their families. He had warned them to watch for those who might follow.
Lavan arrived first and said that two riders in dark hooded cloaks had shadowed his family from the time they left their homestead. When Treymor and Braqor arrived, Toreno saw four more watchers appear. None of them approached the doqajh but dismounted and waited in various places around the village.
Toreno had one of the barqel officiate the service, so he could observe and orchestrate the other things. Once the services commenced, the watchers moved closer, encircling the compound. Toreno was afraid they might interfere with his plans.
When a group of eight cloaked monks left the compound on horseback a short time later, one of the watchers followed them for a distance then turned around, apparently unconcerned. An hour later, when the eight barqhelon returned, pheasants in hand, the watchers noted them but did not interfere.
After the services, Toreno positioned himself outside the sanctuary, greeting the worshipers and chatting, while keeping an eye on the hooded strangers. Lavan’s family was headed out of town toward their homestead when one of the watchers put his horse directly in their path. With dread, Toreno saw him bend low in the saddle and stare at them from beneath his black hood. Suddenly, the watcher let out an eerie, elongated howl and turned his horse, racing back to the doqajh.
Those following the other brothers immediately galloped back to the temple compound. The six riders gathered in front of the buildings, arguing loudly. They dismounted and moved out in different directions.
Toreno scurried inside. Two of the watchers approached the eight men who had ridden out earlier in the day, demanding that they remove the brown hoods of their order. The watchers were clearly angry when they didn’t find Elena’s brothers among the monks. Without asking permission, they searched every room on the property and examined the surrounding grounds.
“What were you doing when you left this compound?” the leader demanded.
“We were hunting pheasants, sir.” The brother showed the man several birds that hung in the kitchen area.
“Liars!” The watcher growled and stormed away. He and the other riders continued their search of the grounds, finding nothing. Afterward, they gathered in the front of the doqajh complex.
“They must have ridden out with the monks and not returned,” a low, gravelly voice spoke. “We will follow their trail and see where it leads.”
The six mounted and followed the path the barqhelon had taken earlier in the day. Toreno watched them leave with a sigh of relief.
The sun was high in the sky when he heard a series of angry howls coming from the woods. He smiled to himself, satisfied.
~
Elena jumped from her chair the moment she saw her brothers. She threw herself into Lavan’s arms, weeping with relief and joy.
“Giara, you are well.” Lavan wrapped her in a tight hug. “I’ve been so worried for you.”
“And I you,” Elena replied as she moved on to her next brother. “Treymor.” She fell into his firm embrace, her tears staining his shirt.
“I’m so relieved to see you, Gia,” he said through his own tears. Elena shivered at the use of her old nickname.
“Braqor.” She clung to the brother closest to her in age.
He pulled back and held Elena’s face tenderly. “I’m so sorry, my sister. I fear you’ve heard that I said terrible things about you. They were lies that didn’t come from my lips. Please”—he struggled to get the words out, the muscles in his neck straining—“know how much I love you and how my heart has ached to see you and know you are safe.”
Elena buried her face in his chest. “I knew you would never speak those words. I knew it.”
Celdorn studied Braqor with a creased brow. Her ada had only seen the imposter who had pretended to be her youngest brother. She was glad he was finally seeing the true Braqor, the brother she dearly loved.
“Forgive us for not protecting you,” Lavan said. “We’ve wronged you and have been tormented since we first spoke with Celdorn.”
“No more regrets. No more apologies,” Elena said. “None of you are responsible for what happened to me, and I don’t want to waste our precious time together dredging up what can’t be changed.” She focused on each of her brothers in turn, almost giddy with joy. “But please, come and meet the ones who have helped me. Some I believe you already know.”
Elena went around the room and introduced each of the nine Guardians who had become her family, overjoyed to have them in the same place as the brothers with whom she was raised.
“Lord Celdorn, it is a pleasure to see you again,” Lavan said with a deep bow. “Thank you for making it possible for us to see Giara.”
“You are most welcome, Lavan.” Celdorn stepped forward and embraced him. He likewise grabbed up Treymor in a hug. Elena smiled through her tears as she watched them. Celdorn stopped short of embracing Braqor when her younger brother stiffened. Her ada held out his hand instead.
“I am pleased to meet you, Lord Celdorn.” Braqor clasped his wrist but was unable to meet his gaze. Elena wanted to weep. She’d never realized before how broken her youngest brother was.
“Please join us at table,” Celdorn said, motioning for them to sit. “The food will arrive shortly, and we will eat and drink and give you time to rest.”
Elena and her brothers sat near the head of the table next to Celdorn and Elbrion.
When they were settled, Celdorn asked, “How was your journey? Did you encounter any complications?”
“No, sir,” Lavan replied, “We were followed to the doqajh, but Yadar Toreno dressed us as monks and sent us out the through the kitchen, having others prepared to stand in our stead with our families. They led us to some caves where your men awaited us. It was an interesting journey.” He smiled warmly, and Elena found herself smiling with him.
“Do you know who it is that has been watching you?” she asked.
“No, they appear like shadows, dressed all in black and hooded, hiding their faces. We haven’t seen ones such as these before,” Lavan said. “They have been following us for over a week.”
“But they haven’t approached or questioned you?” Celdorn asked.
“No. They stay a good distance away, never doing more than watching.”
“How are your families?” Elena asked. “How are the children? It seems such a long time since I have seen them.”
“They are well, Gia,” Lavan answered, then his smile faded. “How is it that we grew so distant? How did we not know what was happening to you and around our village? How could we have been so blind?” He tugged at his blond beard, trying to hide the pout that pulled at his lips.
Elena looked down. “I suppose I am a master at hiding. I was ashamed. I couldn’t bear to face any of you. I couldn’t be around your sweet wives and your innocent children. I felt… dirty.” She glanced up when one of them blew out a loud breath. “I was afraid I might contaminate your families.”
She was surprised when her brothers visibly winced at her words.
&
nbsp; “But we didn’t visit you either,” Braqor countered. “For me, I didn’t like coming to our father’s home. Maybe it was the need to protect my children.” He stopped himself and stared at his hands, picking at the dirt under his nails. “No, that’s not true. It was fear. I hated what I experienced when I entered that place. I would feel like that little boy again.” He paused then looked up at Elena. “I was a boy, Giara…”
Elena was startled when she saw a desperate little boy staring back at her, his eyes pleading for her understanding.
Braqor hurried to correct himself. “I don’t mean to say that it is acceptable that it happened to you because you are a girl—”
“It’s all right,” Elena said, interrupting him. “I understand what you’re trying to say. I don’t blame any of you for not wanting to return to that home.”
There was an awkward silence. Elena played with the loose hairs at the end of her braid.
“Giara, what did he make you do?” Treymor asked softly.
Elena’s eyes snapped up, and she saw the Guardians exchange troubled glances before focusing on her. They seemed as surprised as she was by the question.
“Celdorn said something about him selling you to the Farak,” Treymor added.
Elena closed her eyes, caught off guard by his bluntness. “Please don’t ask me that. You don’t want to know, and I don’t want to tell,” she whispered, unable to catch her breath.
“I do want to know what he did. I want to know what he made you do,” Treymor said, his volume increasing. “I want to know that the hate I feel in my heart is justified, that I have good reason to be celebrating his death. He did it, Giara, not you.” He paused to take a breath, a scowl darkening his face. “He was vile, not you. I want, I need to know the truth about what happened in our family.”
Lavan laid his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “That’s enough, Treymor.” His cheeks reddened as he glanced around at the Guardians.
“No, it’s not nearly enough!” Treymor jerked his shoulder free and stood, leaning over, his fists on the table. “I don’t care what they think. What did our father do? What is the truth? I want to know!” His whole body shook as he stared hard at her.
Elena looked away as tears slid down her cheeks. Celdorn reached for her hand and held it between his. She took a shaky breath. “Yes, Treymor, he gave me away, sold, I think—to the Farak and to others,” she said quietly, gripping Celdorn’s hand. Treymor sat down hard, as if she had struck him. “Countless times. He sent me to that vile encampment where I was trained in sexual things, tortured, and used by whoever was there. If groups of men requested a girl, I was given to them.” She was unable to look up, certain of the horror she would see on her brothers’ faces. “When at home, our mother gave me to our father”—someone gasped—“and… and I lay in their bed, serving in her stead. In the mornings, she would look for some reason to beat me, finding some minor error I had made, so she would have cause to vent her anger.”
Braqor jumped from his chair, startling her. She stared as he paced the length of the table, running his hands through his hair. “Giara, this is… this is too hard to hear. Is there more you need to say? Because I don’t know if I can bear to hear it. If… if it helps you to say it then I will listen, but it’s ripping my heart out.” He came around the table and knelt before her. “I feel like I am hearing the words of a stranger, but you’re my sister… these things happened to my little sister.” His face contorted with anguish, twisting her heart. “How can this be? Not you, not my precious Gia.” He let out a pained sob as he pulled her into his arms.
Elena whirled, caught off balance by his outburst. No one in their home had ever spoken of their feelings or was so candid with their thoughts, and suddenly her brothers were bluntly asking questions, exposing secrets, and displaying intense emotion. She couldn’t regain her equilibrium. Though she returned Braqor’s embrace, she felt herself shifting in his arms, unable to stop it.
Braqor pulled away from her. “What’s happening?” He stood up and stumbled backward, staring at her in horror.
Then she was gone.
Chapter 16
A girl, who looked no older than four, gazed up at a stunned Braqor from huge, mournful eyes.
Elbrion moved quickly to her side, whispering in Elnar, while her brothers watched, pale and confused. Elbrion’s words had no effect; Elena didn’t return to her normal state.
“She is overwhelmed. I am going to take her into the other room.” Elbrion picked up the child and hurried away.
The brothers stared at the bundle in Elbrion’s arms as he left. They exchanged glances, as if questioning their own sanity. Finally, they turned to Celdorn.
“Yes, we all see it,” Celdorn said. “We have found that your sister shifts form—or perhaps it is that we perceive her differently—when she is overcome with strong emotion or is in a situation she can’t manage. We have seen it many times now.”
“H-how is that possible?” Lavan asked.
“We don’t really understand it, nor does Ele—Giara,” Celdorn replied. “When Yadar Toreno was here, he told us that your grandmother had the same ability. She, however, was able to control it. If what he told us is true, your grandmother is a descendant of a race of people who have the ability to change their form, among other things.”
“I never saw my grandmother do that,” Treymor said, staring toward Elena’s door.
“Giara told us your father and grandmother would hide their true forms from others, but she was able to see them as they were. Perhaps the same is true for you. With your sister, she is not deliberately disguising herself. This seems to happen when she can’t manage the intensity of her emotions,” Celdorn said. “I wish I could explain it better than that.”
“Will she be all right?” Treymor asked. “I shouldn’t have pressed her so hard. I… I’m sorry for my outburst. I am… I feel so troubled by all of this.” He glanced at Celdorn then stared at the floor.
“She’ll recover,” Celdorn assured him. “These are tortuous things for anyone to manage. I can only imagine what it must be like to hear this from your own sister. It was difficult enough for us when she was a stranger.” He glanced around at the other Guardians. “I feel like we are treading on the sacred ground of your family here. Please know that we have neither expectations nor judgments about how you ought to manage this. If we can help in any way, please let us know.”
“Thank you,” Lavan said, his eyes brimming with tears. “Is there any way to know when she is likely to do this”—he gestured helplessly toward Elena’s door—“so that we don’t push her too far again?”
“It seems to happen without warning,” Celdorn replied. “I’m not sure we can give you much assistance with that. We’re still trying to learn as well.” He paused and rubbed his jaw. “May I ask you something else?”
Lavan nodded tentatively.
“Do any of you remember Giara being sent away for six months, or longer, four years ago or again two years ago?”
There was a strained silence. The brothers exchanged puzzled looks.
“Our aunt was sick three or four years ago and Giara went to care for her,” Braqor answered. “I remember because she was gone a long time, nearly a year. We were the only ones still at home, and I missed her. Why do you ask?”
“Do you remember another time, perhaps two years ago?”
Lavan put his hand on Braqor’s shoulder and eyed Celdorn. “What is it you’re getting at?”
Celdorn was quiet, not sure how to phrase it, not wanting to hurt this family further. He watched as understanding crossed the oldest brother’s face.
“You’re asking if she was gone long enough to have had a child.” Lavan’s voice was hushed, clearly shaken by this revelation. The other brothers turned and stared at him. “Is that what you are implying, Celdorn?”
“Yes.” He looked away, troubled by the pain in Lavan’s eyes.
“She has birthed two children?” Treymor asked, putting the
pieces together. “Whose children?” He glanced around the room as if Celdorn and his men held the answer. Suddenly, he hunched over in his chair, looking as if he might vomit.
No one answered. There was no answer to give.
After a strained silence, Lavan asked, “What became of her children?”
“She doesn’t know. Someone took them away,” Celdorn replied. “Only recently did the memory of those events return to her.”
“How could she have forgotten whole years of her life?” Treymor asked. “How could she not recall giving birth?”
“How could one possibly remember such horrific abuse and continue to live?” Celdorn countered. “She had to lock it away somewhere inside her mind in order to survive.”
Troubled, the brothers stared at the floor. Treymor flexed his fists, as if he might explode at any moment.
The tension broke when men came in bringing trays of food and drink. Celdorn invited the brothers and his men to eat while he went to check on Elena, but no one moved.
~
Celdorn eased open Elena’s door, not wanting to startle her. Elbrion glanced up from the bed where he held a still-tiny Elena in his arms. Sasha sat at the side, her snout pressed against the girl’s ear as if whispering to her.
Celdorn sat next to Elbrion. “How is she?”
“She does not want to come back,” Elbrion replied. “I can feel her resisting me.”
“Then she does have some control of this.”
“It is a way of protecting herself. I do not believe she plans it or resists intentionally, but she does not feel safe to return.” His light slowed as he gazed down at their daughter asleep in his arms.
“I can certainly understand that. Emotions were running high out there.” Celdorn was quiet for a moment. “Do you think it’s shame? She was compelled to say things that I’m not sure she was ready to admit to her brothers. We watched it happen the day we found her when I pressed her too hard.”