by J D Abbas
“That is possible.”
“Elena,” Celdorn said, stroking her cheek. “Little one, you are safe here. Your brothers love you. They’re afraid they hurt you by asking too much of you. Please come back to us.”
The tiny girl continued sleeping, her breathing steady, untroubled.
“Will you go inside, Elbrion, and try to find her?” Celdorn feared she might get lost somewhere in her mind and never return.
Elbrion drew a deep breath, “Yes, I am willing to do so.”
“Is it still difficult for you?”
“It is, but for different reasons. I have grown to love her so deeply it is painful to see the torment she carries. Before it was a damaged girl we had found, now it is our daughter. Our daughter…” he repeated, shimmering tears welling in his pale eyes. Elbrion caressed Elena’s face, then held his hand steady as he closed his eyes and chanted softly.
~
When Elbrion opened his eyes, he was not in the entry way or the corridor; he was in the torture chamber. He shuddered.
Strapped down on a table was a nine or ten-year-old girl, surrounded by three men. One of them was little more than a skeleton held together by sinews of darkness. He appeared to be more shadow than substance, yet great power pulsated outward from him. He had to be one of Anakh’s five eidola. The room spun as the Zhekhum tugged at Elbrion’s mind; evil throbbed in this place.
“I own you,” the shadow said with a snarl in his voice. “You will not defy me.”
The man placed the tips of his bony fingers around the edges of her face. Energy moved from his hand into her head with such force she jolted. The girl screamed as what looked like fire coursed through her body, ravaging everything inside her. Her whole frame contorted for minutes after he stopped, leaving her gasping for breath.
“You are a worthless whore. How dare you try to resist me!” He shoved his face next to hers. “Say it. I want to hear you.”
“No.” The word came out in a whisper, but the defiance behind it was palpable.
The shadowy figure put his hand on her face again, holding it there longer this time. The girl tried with everything in her not to cry out, but the pain was too much. Her body convulsed, and she turned and vomited over the side of the table, dousing her attacker.
The eidolon was livid. He ripped the straps from her arms and legs, grabbed her by the hair, and threw her on the floor in the middle of the mess she had made. “Lick it up, dog!” His heavy boot smashed her face into the ground.
Elena was so weak, she lay face down in the puddle unable to pull herself onto her hands and knees.
The eidolon, his voice low and menacing, said again, “I want to hear it.” When she did not respond, he placed his hands on her shoulders driving the energy through her again. “Say it!” The force of the surges lifted her from the ground, twisted her mercilessly, and released her to fall, flailing.
“Speak!”
She clenched her fists, as she spasmed. “Y-you own m-me,” she finally whimpered.
He yanked her head up by the hair. “And what are you?”
“I am a slut, a whore, a worthless piece of refuse,” she said, her tone hollow and wooden, her eyes lifeless.
“Don’t think you can defy me,” he snarled at her. “No one cares if you live or die. You are mine to do with as I will.” He flung her head forward, driving her forehead into the floor.
“That is no longer the truth,” Elbrion said, the strength of his voice echoing in the chamber. He had been battling his way through the Zhekhum that threatened to consume him in this place until, driven by his love for Elena, his light returned, forcing the shadows to withdraw. “Your life is now your own, Elena.”
Her head wobbled as she raised it and struggled to focus her deadened eyes in Elbrion’s direction.
Her tormentor stood and stepped toward Elbrion. “She will never be her own, fool. She was born and bred for us, and we—”
“Silence!” Elbrion commanded, holding up his hand; the man froze in place, his tongue muted.
“You do not have to be tormented like this any longer, Sheyshon,” he said, using the term of affection he reserved only for her in hopes of reaching her heart. He knelt beside her in the mess. “This is your mind, your memory. You do not have to let them torture you further.” He lifted her into his arms. “Tell them to leave you alone.”
The girl trembled as he cradled her, searching his eyes, but she did not speak.
“Elena, you can tell them to go away,” he said, reining in his powerful voice. “You do not have to listen to their lies any longer.”
“But they aren’t lying,” she whispered. “I am a whore, and no one does care if I live or die.”
“No,” Elbrion said firmly. “You did what they forced you to do. You are a child who was misused. And I care if you live or die.”
She gazed up at him, as if she wanted desperately to take in his words.
“She doesn’t believe you,” one of the men said. “She knows what she is and can’t deny it.”
“Tell them to leave.” Elbrion’s voice grew intense, angered by this lying man.
Elena cringed.
Elbrion took a steadying breath and said more evenly, “You can do it, Sheya. This is your mind.” He held her close to his chest, willing his resolve into her.
“Go… go away,” she whispered.
“Stronger,” Elbrion said. “Make them obey you.”
She stared up at him. Her hand gripped his tunic as if to absorb his strength. Suddenly she screamed, “Leave!”
Her tormentors disappeared.
“This is your mind, Elena. They cannot be in here unless you allow them to be,” Elbrion said, his voice again tender and soft. “You can silence the lies.”
At once, the older Elena gazed up at him, and he set her on her feet. “Come to the outside with me, Sheya. You do not have to remain here.”
She hesitated, her face riddled with doubt.
“Come,” he said gently, holding out his hand.
~
When Elena opened her eyes, she was lying in Elbrion’s lap with Celdorn sitting next to them and Sasha’s nose pressed against her cheek. Her gaze shifted from one adai to the other in silence as she struggled to form her thoughts into words.
“I-I have lived so long as a whore, Ada. I don’t know how to see myself otherwise,” she whispered to Elbrion. “And my brothers… now they know the things I have done. It was like being stripped and humiliated all over again… having them watch as men passed me around… having them stand in the bedroom, seeing me lay with my father. They saw what I did. I feel so dirty, so ashamed.”
“And they are shameful things, Elena,” Elbrion replied. “But I want you to know that as your brothers and the other men in that room listened to you, they did not see you behaving as a whore. They saw men misusing a frightened, vulnerable child. They saw the men doing shameful things.”
Celdorn stroked her cheek. “I am certain I speak for every man in my chambers when I say, they were sickened by what they heard and would save you from having to carry this torment, if they could. I don’t know if you were able to hear your brothers clearly, little one, but Treymor was emphasizing that it was your father who was the evil one, and Braqor was appalled that these things were done to his baby sister—they were done to you; you did not do them.”
Elbrion cleared his throat then asked, “Elena, how do you see your brothers when you think about your father raping them?”
Startled, she turned her eyes to meet his. It was a question she’d never considered. “I-I see… innocent little boys… being victimized by… by a monster.” The words stuttered out as the images slowly formed in her mind. She tilted her head, as something in her thoughts seemed to turn, break loose.
A light knock on the door made her jump.
Silvandir peeked around the door; a look of relief crossed his face when he glanced at her. “Celdorn, Noramar is here. Something has happened at the doqajh in Rhamal.”
>
Celdorn jumped up and pulled the door wide. “What is it, Noramar?”
The man dropped to one knee by the threshold. “Lord Celdorn, Yadar Toreno is dead.”
Chapter 17
“Toreno is dead?” Celdorn stared at the disheveled messenger, uncertain he had heard correctly. Noramar looked as if he had flown from Rhamal, his long hair a wild tangle, his cloak askew.
The room fell silent, all attention on the kneeling Guardian.
“Yes, sir.” Noramar rose at Celdorn’s nod. “The watchers appeared again, this time asking questions of the staff at the doqajh compound. They apparently killed Toreno while trying to elicit information from him.”
“The same ones that followed us?” Lavan asked, his face stricken.
“The information is vague,” Noramar replied, glancing at Lavan. “We don’t know how they were able to get past our guards or exactly what happened with the priest.” He turned back to Celdorn. “Some of the barqhelon came to us, begging for our assistance when they took Toreno. He was already dead by the time we arrived. We killed two of his attackers, but four others escaped. We chased them for miles, then they disappeared, vanished before our eyes.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Were you able to get any information from the two men before they died?” Celdorn asked.
“You’re going to think I have lost my mind.” Noramar shifted his weight. “They were not men—at least not fully men.” He glanced at Celdorn sideways. “They were… half man, half beast.”
“What?” Celdorn stared at Noramar.
“Th-they looked like they were part wild dog or wolf. Their faces had a snout, not as large as a wolf’s, but definitely not the face of a man. The monks said they sniffed and howled like dogs as they searched the compound. They tore the flesh from Toreno’s body with their teeth. It was gruesome.”
Celdorn was quiet as he took in Noramar’s report.
“Are the children all right?” Elbrion asked as he and Elena came up behind him.
Celdorn glanced back, ashamed that he hadn’t thought to ask.
“They are fine, sir. The creatures didn’t seem interested in them this time. They are in the ancient tunnels under the compound now. One of the barqhelon said it was imperative I tell you that Toreno gave those beasts no information. He seemed to think you would find it important.”
“I do indeed.” He eyed Elena’s brothers.
Lavan rose and hurried the length of the table to face Celdorn. “We must return to our families immediately. If they killed Toreno, they must know they were deceived.”
“I can’t send you out directly, or they will know you were at the keep, and Giara will be compromised.”
“But our families may be in danger, my lord. We can’t take the time to go the secret way,” Lavan objected. “I’m sorry, Giara. I have to think of my family.”
Elena spoke around Celdorn. “Of course, Lavan. I understand. Don’t worry about me.”
“No.” Celdorn stood firm. “Lavan, we will dispatch men immediately to your homesteads to protect your families while we take you out through the caves. The guards can care for your families until you are able to safely join them.”
Lavan turned to his brothers.
Treymor ran his hands through his pale hair as if he wanted to rip it out. “We can’t fail our sister again.”
“Stop wasting time,” Elena said. “Go. Go to your families. Make sure they’re safe.” She grabbed Celdorn’s arm. “Don’t you remember the dream I had? I can’t be responsible for that. Please, let them go.”
Celdorn hadn’t realized her nightmare of the black void destroying her brothers and their families continued to torment Elena even after she knew they were safe.
“I can’t allow it, little one.” Celdorn kept his voice gentle. “You must trust me. We’ll send out men to their homes immediately and prepare for your brothers’ secret departure.
“Silvandir, choose a hundred men to go with you. Mikaelin, you have been to the brothers’ homes; you can show Silvandir the way. Shatur, you will accompany them in case of any deception. Dalgo and Braiden, you go to the doqajh and take your supplies in the event there is need. Noramar, go with them.
“That’s all. Move quickly,” Celdorn ordered.
The men broke out at once to fulfill their duties. The entire company was on the road ready to leave Kelach within half an hour.
“Haldor and Tobil, you will lead the brothers back to their homes. Have the Ilqazar meet you in the woods.”
Tobil spoke with a guard in the hallway, who hurried away, then he and Haldor waited there for the brothers.
“Elena, you must say your goodbyes now." Celdorn couldn’t look at her, lest he lose his resolve. It was the right decision whether or not she could see that.
“I’m so sorry—for everything,” Elena said to her brothers. “I seem to cause nothing but grief these days. Forgive me for putting your families in danger.”
“You’re not responsible for any of this, Gia.” Lavan pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “We willingly chose to see you, knowing full well the risk.”
Treymor held out his arms to her. “Our father created this mess. He’s the guilty one. Don’t take the blame for his sin, my sister.”
When Treymor didn’t release her, Braqor joined in their hug. “We’ll find a way to see you again soon.”
“We must go.” Lavan gently pried Elena loose from his brothers’ arms.
Each of them kissed her cheeks, then whispered goodbye as if they might never see each other again, all of them in tears. Celdorn choked back his own.
“May the light protect you,” Elena called as her brothers disappeared into the darkened corridor.
Once they were out of sight, she threw herself into Celdorn’s arms. “What have I done?” Her body shook with sobs. “I wanted to see them, so I could know they were safe, and now Toreno is dead and their families are in danger. Why do I bring nothing but darkness wherever I go?”
~
The road to the valley quaked under the thunderous hooves of the Ilqazar bearing the Rogaran company at a full gallop toward Rhamal. Arrayed in battle gear, spears raised, shields ablaze in the afternoon sun, they were a fearsome sight. The hair of man and beast trailed in the wind, for only in battle did the Guardians cover their heads.
As Silvandir led them through Proso, the villagers bowed at the sides of the road or ran into their houses, pulling their children along, intimidated by these dark warriors who stood out as giants among them, quiet guardians of all their lands. Perhaps they wondered what need pressed them so this day.
When they reached the outskirts of Rhamal, Silvandir called the company to a halt. He ordered the men to divide and encircle the village and its surrounding homesteads. They were to guard the perimeter, making certain that no one left or entered the town, watching particularly for the half-human dark riders.
Silvandir, Mikaelin, Dalgo, Braiden, Shatur and Noramar went to each of the brothers’ homesteads to assess the wellbeing of their families.
They rode to Lavan’s home first. His wife, Nahara, threw open the door, her face as pale as her hair.
“What’s happened to Lavan?” she cried.
“Your husband is fine,” Silvandir quickly assured her as he dismounted and approached with a slight bow. “Lord Celdorn sent us to check on your welfare.”
Nahara’s face went from white to grey, and she reached for the post at the edge of the porch, her breath coming in gasps. Silvandir hurried up the steps and grabbed her arms, steadying her and guiding her to a bench before she fell. It was only then he noticed she was with child. He squatted in front of her. “Are you well?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry. When I saw you, I thought you were coming to tell me that Lavan was dead. I’m just so relieved.” She wiped her eyes with the edge of her apron. “You have heard the news of Yadar Toreno then?”
“Yes, ma’am, that is why we were
sent. Our men have surrounded Rhamal and will stand guard until your husband has safely returned. Has anyone come near your home or bothered you?”
“No, it’s been quiet, except for the shamari howling endlessly.” She looked around at the other men. “Forgive me. I’m being rude. May I get you some water or food?” She clung to the post as she pulled herself to her feet.
“Thank you, but we are well supplied,” Silvandir said. “And we need to check on Treymor’s and Braqor’s families.”
“When will Lavan be home?” she asked, her eyes still fearful.
“He should be here by nightfall.”
She leaned forward and whispered, “Is Giara well?”
Silvandir smiled. “She is quite well, ma’am, though she is concerned for your welfare and the children’s.”
“Please send our love to her.” She kept her voice soft. “Thank you for helping her. I don’t know what would have happened to her had you not intervened.”
“It has been our pleasure.” Silvandir fought back a wide grin, afraid he might expose his true feelings. He hurried down the steps and mounted. As they turned to leave, he added, “We will check with you again after Lavan is home. Our men will be guarding the village throughout the night, so do not fear.”
~
The scene replayed itself at both Treymor’s and Braqor’s homes. Their wives were obviously distraught, fearing the worst. Treymor’s wife fell to her knees and wept. She clutched her three small children, while Silvandir assured her that her husband was unharmed.
Braqor’s wife, Kyana, was more stoic. Though she gave no outward display of emotion, she was flushed and her legs shook so badly her dress quaked. She excused herself and ran into the other room. Her children, both younger than four, studied the Guardians.
Silvandir watched with interest as Mikaelin approached the porch, knelt down, and held out his hand to the older boy who was staring at him from just inside the door. “What’s your name?” Mikaelin asked.