Behind the Third Door: The Innocence Cycle, Book 2

by J D Abbas

  When he reached out to place his hand on her chest, Elena recoiled and nearly fell off Celdorn’s lap. Braiden laid his hand on her arm, closed his eyes, and whispered softly. The white light of the Jhadhela surged through him. His glowing hand moved toward her shoulder then gradually to the middle of her chest. Elena didn’t resist this time. Braiden held steady, and her breathing slowed. When she inhaled deeply, he pulled back. The girl’s gaze now held gratitude mixed with the fear.

  “Y-you are w-welcome.” Braiden patted her shoulder.

  Sasha relaxed as well and laid her head in Elena’s lap, licking her arm.

  “What happened to her?” Silvandir asked Elbrion.

  “I do not know.”

  “May I speak with her?”

  “I do not think it is wise at this time,” Elbrion replied. “You should wait in Celdorn’s chamber.”

  “Elena, I’m sorry I left you and wasn’t there to protect you when you needed me,” Silvandir called to her. “Elbrion, will you let me know when it is all right to see her?”

  “I will.”

  After he left, Celdorn asked Elena, “Are you able to speak?”

  She nodded.

  “Please, little one, talk to me.”

  She hugged Sasha into her chest. “I don’t know what to do, Ada. I’m so ashamed.”

  “Ashamed of what?” When she didn’t answer, a sick fear hit his stomach. “Did you do something to harm yourself?”

  Elena shook her head and looked down.

  “What is the source of your shame?” He lifted her face.

  “I can’t tell you.” Her chin quivered, her eyes fixed on Sasha’s back.

  Elbrion moved closer and laid his hand on Elena’s head.

  She shoved at his arm. “No, I don’t want you to see.”

  Elbrion didn’t let go. After a few moments, he dropped his hand and gazed at her, tears filling his eyes.

  Elena closed hers. “You saw.” She buried her face in Celdorn’s chest, weeping.

  “Braiden, leave us,” Elbrion snapped.

  Braiden’s eyes went wide and his head bobbed before he hurried out of the room.

  Elbrion laid his hand on Elena’s head. “You cried out to me for help when I was inside Keymar’s mind.” His words puzzled Celdorn. “I did not understand at the time; I should have come immediately. I am so sorry.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She has been violated again.” Elbrion’s jaw twitched, and his lips folded into a thin, tense line.

  “The same man?”

  Elbrion shook his head.

  “By whom then?” When Elbrion hesitated, the skin on Celdorn’s neck started to prickle. “Who?” he demanded.

  “Silvandir.”

  “That’s not possible.” He pulled Elena’s face back from his chest. “Was it Silvandir?”

  She didn’t say anything, but her eyes gave him the answer. They were so big and so sad. Her heart was utterly broken. She had lived with so much betrayal and now to add another when she was just beginning to trust them. Celdorn pulled her in close and rocked her as she sobbed. He looked at Elbrion for direction, comfort… anything. But his friend seemed equally dumbfounded, reeling from what he’d seen, and unable to offer solace. Sasha snuggled in closer to Elena and licked Celdorn’s hand as if to give what comfort she could.

  “I’m so sorry, little one.” Celdorn rested his head on Elena’s, wishing he had something more to offer than apologies. “Will you please tell me what happened?”

  “I can’t, Ada.” Her voice was so tiny. “I don’t want you to send me away.”

  “I would never send you away no matter what you tell me.”

  Elbrion said, “Sheyshon, he told you that to insure your silence.”

  Celdorn gawked at Elbrion then held Elena’s face. “Silvandir told you I would send you away if you told me what happened?” When Elena bit her lip and nodded, Celdorn’s anger ignited. “Elbrion, tell me what you saw.”

  In a steady, hollow tone, as if feeling Silvandir’s betrayal in every word, Elbrion related what he had learned. “He took her into the end room, telling her you wanted them there because it had no balcony access.”

  Celdorn interrupted. “Elena, I didn’t ask him to move you. I thought you were in this room the entire time.”

  Elbrion continued, giving him a brief description of what he had seen, unable to speak the details. “It seems he did not believe he was assaulting her. To him, his love overcame his resolve and judgment.” He paused to take a shaky breath, barely hanging on to his composure. “Elena was terrified and resisted him, but he persisted in believing she wanted to… to be intimate with him.” Elbrion’s voice contained a mixture of anger, pain and disbelief.

  Celdorn leaned his cheek against Elena’s head, filled with sorrow. “I keep promising you that you are safe here, and again, I am wrong. Oh, little one…”

  A sudden rage burst in Celdorn. Sasha jumped up with a yelp as he stood and held Elena out to Elbrion. “We must confront this immediately.”

  As Elbrion gathered Elena into a tight hug, she said, “No, Ada, I don’t want to see him.”

  Celdorn, undeterred by her objection, walked through Elena’s room to his own chamber. “Silvandir, come with me,” he called. The young man jumped up and followed. Celdorn motioned for him to sit in a chair by the table near the door. Elena hid her face in Elbrion’s chest, trembling uncontrollably.

  “When Elbrion looked into Elena’s mind just now, he saw what happened to her.” Celdorn scrutinized Silvandir, watching for a blush or any hint of remorse. “Is there anything you wish to tell me?”

  Silvandir glanced from Celdorn to Elbrion. “Uh, no… sir.”

  Celdorn hesitated, took a deep breath and forged ahead. “Elbrion saw you forcing Elena to lie with you.”

  Silvandir gaped at Celdorn. “Me? How?” He glanced at Elena and paled. “I would never do that, Celdorn. Never!” When Celdorn looked at him piercingly, he added, “Not now. I’m a different man.” Silvandir ran his fingers through his hair, his expression frantic. “I wouldn’t hurt Elena.” He glanced at her again, and his shoulders slumped. “She told you I… assaulted her?” When Silvandir turned back to Celdorn, he looked crushed, devastated. “Where… when did she say this happened?”

  “She didn’t; Elbrion observed it in her mind,” Celdorn said. “Evidently, it was while we were busy with Keymar.”

  “During the break?” Silvandir’s forehead furrowed. “I was outside with Mikaelin. We were studying the lion tracks. I wasn’t in the keep again until after the meeting started. That’s why we entered late. Ask Mikaelin.”

  Just then, a knock sounded on the hallway door.

  “Pardon me, Lord Celdorn.” With an awkward glance at Elena, Garandel stepped into the room. “A message was sent up from the gatehouse. You are wanted immediately.” Seeing Celdorn’s hesitation, he added, “You’ll want to see this.” His voice thrummed with excitement.

  “Silvandir, go back to my chamber. Wait for me there. Elbrion, stay with Elena. I’ll return shortly.”

  At Garandel’s direction, Celdorn walked across the hall and looked through the window in Haldor’s room, which had a clear view of the front gates and the roads beyond. He blinked and looked again, not trusting his eyes.

  A large company of Guardians approached from the north, their deportment clearly recognizable—they were from Marach. Celdorn’s face warmed into a smile. The northern Guardians traveled under the silver banners of the Elrodanar, clad in the unmistakable shimmering cloaks of the people of light. Unhooded, their ebony hair looked like the night against which the stars were set. Their shields bore the emblem of the waterfalls of light that empty into the valley of Queyon.

  Celdorn looked more closely, and his eyes widened. In the midst of a hundred dark heads, one shone out—like a full moon in the black nightscape.

  Chapter 38

  Celdorn ran back across the hall, smiling at Garandel as he passed. He burst int
o Elbrion’s room. “There’s a company from Marach arriving with an Elrodanar among them.”

  “By the mercy of Qho’el. This is a day that will be recorded in history.” Elbrion glanced down at Elena, and Celdorn saw hope rise on his face. Perhaps their prayers had been answered.

  Even in the midst of her pain, Elena seemed to sense the awe of the moment. Her gaze passed between Celdorn and Elbrion, as if longing to enter into their excitement. Sasha’s tail thumped against Elbrion’s chair, ears lifted in expectation.

  “All will be well, little one. I am certain now.” Celdorn gave Elena an encouraging smile then turned and hurried to his room. He called for Haldor to follow him. “I don’t have time to explain, but I need you to stay with Elena while Elbrion accompanies me to the front gates,” he said as they passed through the antechamber. “One of the Elrodanar has arrived.” Haldor’s brows arched but Celdorn held up his hand to prevent the coming questions. “Later.”

  In Elbrion’s room, Celdorn stopped and lowered his voice. “Elena is fragile right now and must be well guarded.” He took a deep breath, not wanting to speak the coming words. “She was… assaulted again.”

  Haldor visibly reeled at Celdorn’s revelation. He glanced at Elena, grief-stricken, but again held back his questions. “I will take care of her,” he assured Celdorn. “Go.”

  Celdorn and Elbrion ran through the halls of Kelach and out the main entrance. They emerged just as the arriving company passed through the last of the outer gates and into the bailey.

  ~

  Mikaelin watched as Silvandir returned to Celdorn’s chamber and plopped in his place at the table, looking stunned. “Is Elena all right? What happened to her?”

  “I-I can’t believe it.” Silvandir bent forward and put his head in his hands. “I’m sickened.”

  Mikaelin’s stomach knotted. “What is it? Tell me.”

  Silvandir glanced at the others, who were absorbed in their own conversations. He stood and motioned for Mikaelin to follow him toward Celdorn’s hearth. On the far side of the fireplace, he stopped and faced Mikaelin, torment in his eyes.

  “You’re scaring me, Silvandir. What’s wrong?”

  Silvandir turned his back to the others. “Celdorn told me Elena was violated again.”

  “No…” Mikaelin groaned and rubbed his drooping eye. Unwanted images and sensations from her first attack flooded his body. He staggered and grabbed for the hearthstones to steady himself. “That’s why she was hiding? Because someone raped her?” Mikaelin’s hands curled into fists. “How could this have happened again, with all of the guards nearby and watching so carefully? Does Celdorn know who did it?”

  “He said when Elbrion looked into her mind, he saw…” Silvandir glanced nervously over his shoulder then back at Mikaelin.

  “What? What did he see?”

  “Me.”

  “You? What are you talking about?”

  Silvandir shook his head. “Elbrion saw me… saw me forcing Elena to… to lie with me,” he whispered.

  Mikaelin stared at Silvandir, trying to make sense of his words. “He thinks you raped her?” A sudden, intense protectiveness rose inside him. He took a step back. “When did this happen?”

  “He said she was attacked during the break, when we were out in the courtyard. I couldn’t have done it. I was with you,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And I wouldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t do that to Elena—especially not Elena, knowing everything she has suffered.” Tears welled in Silvandir’s eyes, and he pressed the heels of his hands into them, fighting their release. “I’m so heartsick that she believes I could do that to her, or anyone else. I”—his voice broke with a sob—“I love her.”

  Mikaelin jolted and grabbed Silvandir’s arm. “Remember when we were outside and I told you I saw a vision of Elena crying out for help? It must have been happening then.” He stopped, confused by his own words. If it were a premonition or vision, why had it come to him? Why not to Elbrion or Haldor? He wasn’t given to visions; he wasn’t sensitive like that. It was so odd.

  Mikaelin frowned. “But how could Elbrion have seen you in her memory if you weren’t there?”

  “I don’t know, but I wasn’t.” Silvandir’s voice rose with a desperate edge. A few at the table turned to look their direction, and he lowered his voice. “You have to believe me.”

  “I do, Silvandir,” he assured him. “You were with me. You couldn’t have been in two places. There must be another explanation.”

  Silvandir grabbed Mikaelin’s arms. “You have to tell Celdorn. He doesn’t believe me. I-I don’t understand how he could think I would do such a despicable thing.” He let go of Mikaelin and ran his hands through his hair as if tearing at the thoughts. “That wounds my heart almost as much as Elena believing I did. Celdorn has known me for fifteen years!”

  “What else could he think if Elbrion saw it? I’m sure he doesn’t want to believe it. He respects and loves you. There must be an explanation. We’ll find it; don’t worry.” He laid his hand on Silvandir’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

  Mikaelin wasn’t sure he believed his own words. Something strange was going on in the keep, but just what it was, he had no idea.

  ~

  “Yaelmargon.” Elbrion bowed as he approached the Elrodanar master, who was still mounted on a luminous Ilqazar.

  “Prince Elbrion.” The master inclined his head.

  In spite of the heaviness of his heart, Celdorn couldn’t help but smile. The pair made a dazzling sight.

  Yaelmargon’s gaze turned to him. “Lord Protector.”

  Celdorn dipped his chin but did not bow. Though the Elrodanar council chose the Lord Protector, once selected, they were to serve him.

  “I am amazed to see you here,” Elbrion said.

  “I heard your cry for help,” Yaelmargon replied in a voice rich and sonorous. “You did not hear my response?” He seemed to measure Elbrion with each word. “Your barah has grown dull among the Rogaran.”

  Yaelmargon dismounted and stood before Elbrion and Celdorn, allowing his Ilqazar to be taken by a stable hand. The master was hundreds of years old, yet he stood erect and regal, the light pulsing beneath his skin as brilliant as ever.

  “There has been much to consume my attention of late,” Elbrion said. “I have had to listen on many levels.” Celdorn was proud of him for holding Yaelmargon’s gaze unflinchingly. The master was intimidating. “I am grateful you were willing to venture outside Queyon to assist us. We are in great need.”

  “More than you realize.” Then the master turned to include Celdorn. “You have stumbled upon a treasure, whose worth you do not comprehend, and have found yourselves at a turning point in Qabara’s history.”

  “We did not stumble,” Celdorn replied evenly. “I believe we were led.”

  Yaelmargon inclined his head and smiled. “I stand corrected. Your assessment is accurate.” His face grew somber. “Something happened to the Rahima. I felt her energy shift a short time ago.”

  Elbrion stiffened. “Yes. She is safe now.”

  “I will explain when we are in a more appropriate setting,” Celdorn told the master. “For the time being, know that she is being cared for. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to greet the others.”

  Celdorn approached the leader of the detachment from Marach, whose men were dismounting and handing off their Ilqazar to be groomed and stabled. There were friendly welcomes and excited conversations all around. “Zarandiel. Welcome, my friend.”

  A head of wild black curls turned, and Zarandiel’s heavily bearded face broke into a wide grin, his ebony eyes dancing with mirth. The mountain of a man dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “At your service, Lord Protector.”

  It was difficult for Celdorn to receive homage from the man who had mentored and trained him when he was just a misguided, self-absorbed whelp. Zarandiel had been a rock during the upheaval following his father’s death, and to Celdorn’s surprise, his mentor had stood with the coun
cil in their selection of Celdorn as his father’s successor. Zarandiel knew about most of his grievous misdeeds, including the one that put a final wedge between Celdorn and his father—the one he would never have opportunity to apologize or atone for. And yet, Zarandiel loved him without judgment or censure.

  Tears burned in Celdorn’s eyes as his mentor rose and embraced him with his brawny arms. “It is good to see you, lad.” Zarandiel pulled back and gripped Celdorn’s head, planting a kiss on his forehead. “You’ve been gone longer than usual. I’ve missed you.”

  “This is an unexpected pleasure. When we sent out the missives, I didn’t expect delegations in response. I suspected you might send a small escort if a member of the Elrodanar council deigned to break with tradition and actually respond to our request—” Zarandiel shot him a disapproving glare. “Sorry. I’ll behave.” A mischievous smile tugged at Celdorn’s lips. “In any case, I hadn’t hoped to see you. I thought you would send another in your stead.”

  “After speaking with Yaelmargon and weighing what is at stake here, I thought it best I come in person.”

  “Hmm.” Celdorn nodded, wanting to ask more but not in the chaos of the bailey. “I am amazed that you came so soon, however. I didn’t think our messengers would have arrived in Marach as yet.”

  “They haven’t. In fact, we met them on our way here.”

  “Then how did you know to come?”

  “Yaelmargon.” Zarandiel’s curls bobbed as he tipped his head toward the master. “I’ll let him explain. We told your messengers to continue on to Marach and Queyon so those in the keep and on the council would be better informed as to the situation.”

  “Good. We want all our people aware and alert.” Celdorn caught himself. “Where are my manners? We can discuss this later. You have had a long journey.” He motioned for Zarandiel to lead the way toward the keep. “Your men may set up in the Great Hall. I will see that food is brought to them. You and Yaelmargon may use the guest rooms upstairs. When you are settled, we will eat and drink in my chambers, and then you can tell me what there is to know.”