by Ginn Hale
“Do you recognize me this time, young Master Kir-Zaki?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Kiram bowed awkwardly in the bed. Had he failed to recognize the prince previously? He prayed that he hadn’t been too rude. Something in the prince’s amused smile made Kiram think that he’d been more flattered than insulted. Kiram wondered if he’d called out to Javier.
“Very good.” The prince nodded.
“Do you know where Lord Tornesal is?” Kiram asked. He searched the faces of the men loitering in the room but none were Javier.
“I do, but before I answer your question I would have you answer one of mine.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
“What did you see?” Prince Sevanyo leaned closer to Kiram and spoke in a hushed voice. “When you died, what was there?”
“It was light,” Kiram responded. He could see that Prince Sevanyo wanted more then just that. “There was no pain and I wasn’t afraid.”
“Did you see angels or devils?” The prince gazed at Kiram intently and the afternoon light etched the deep lines of his gaunt face. “A garden of jewels and gold?”
“No, Your Highness.” Kiram couldn’t bring himself to lie. “There was only light and comfort…and then I think I saw Javier and he brought me back.” Kiram met the prince’s gaze. “Will you please tell me where he is?”
Prince Sevanyo sighed and leaned back in the simple wooden chair.
“He is presently in the room below this one, being held prisoner until the royal bishop arrives.”
“But he didn’t possess Fedeles—”
Prince Sevanyo rolled his eyes and raised a gloved hand against Kiram’s protests. His rings gleamed in the afternoon light.
“We know that he did nothing to his cousin. The Grunito brothers, War Master Ignacio and Scholar Blasio have all testified as much. And of course Fedeles Quemanor has corroborated their stories.” The prince shook his head. “It seems that my young brother, the royal bishop, was far too rash in his judgment. His imprudence nearly allowed a madman to seize control of the dukedom of Rauma as well as the white hell. And it has cost him the lives of his own men.”
“But if you know that, then why is Jav—Lord Tornesal being held prisoner?” Kiram flushed at his gaffe but the prince didn’t seem to care. He sighed and stretched out his long legs.
“Javier,” Prince Sevanyo said, “has proclaimed himself a convert to the Bahiim religion.”
Kiram winced at the idea of Javier cavalierly making such an announcement.
“Indeed.” Prince Sevanyo sighed. “The royal bishop has demanded that Javier be held prisoner until he arrives here to try him for heresy.”
“No.” Kiram couldn’t help his response.
Prince Sevanyo raised a white brow, and the gesture reminded Kiram painfully of Javier.
“The royal bishop is well within his rights, Master Kir-Zaki. At the very least he will have the pleasure of excommunicating Javier.”
“But doesn’t Javier deserve some lenience? He did keep Scholar Donamillo from—”
Again the prince stopped Kiram’s protest with a wave of his hand.
“Javier has made the royal bishop look like a fool. Worse yet, a fraud who can’t recognize a possessed man when he stands before him and who knows less of heaven’s designs than a pack of schoolboys and a Haldiim mechanist.” Prince Sevanyo shook his head. “Word of the bishop’s folly has already spread too far for him to suppress it. Now the royal bishop can only hope that in punishing Javier he can make an example of what happens to those who would embarrass him.”
“You can stop him, can’t you?” Kiram couldn’t help the begging tone in his voice. Prince Sevanyo shook his head.
“Javier is dear to me,” the prince admitted. “But when he chose to convert he placed himself firmly in my brother’s grasp and well beyond the realm of my protection. Only the king could forgive Javier and he chooses not involve himself in this matter.”
Kiram bowed his head into his hands, silently cursing Javier for not having the sense to lie or at least flee. Certainly a single locked door couldn’t keep Javier prisoner here. So, why stay?
“Are you strong enough to stand?” the prince asked Kiram.
Kiram looked up and met Prince Sevanyo’s cool gaze, unsure as to what could have sparked this new direction of inquiry. The prince glanced to one of his pages and the boy came close.
“I think so…” Kiram replied. “I feel better.”
Sevanyo nodded. The page offered him a chalice of wine, which the prince took a single drink from before waving the boy aside. He returned his attention to Kiram.
“The royal bishop will be arriving here tomorrow. More than likely he will expect to interview you as well as Javier.”
Sick dread clenched Kiram’s chest.
“Time is short,” Prince Sevanyo said quietly then he raised his voice. “It is good that you are feeling recovered, but I can see that I and all of these fine men of my father’s court have kept you awake too long.” The prince indicated the surrounding courtiers with a theatrical wave of his gloved hands. “You have been good enough to answer my question and I appreciate it greatly. We should leave you to your rest.”
The prince’s guards straightened and several of the courtiers turned their cups and dishes over to servants, making ready to depart with the prince. Kiram wondered briefly at how strange it would be to live constantly surrounded by so many other people.
Then Prince Sevanyo surprised him by grasping his hand suddenly.
“Before I go, let us both pray that Javier sees the error of his ways,” the prince told him. Something hard slipped from the prince’s glove and pressed into Kiram’s palm. “Let us hope that down in the room directly below this one, he feels our ardent prayer and comes to his senses.”
Kiram nodded. He remained still and silent while the prince bowed his head. Then Prince Sevanyo stood and Kiram closed his hand around the key the prince had slipped to him.
“Take care,” Prince Sevanyo told Kiram.
Then he left and the crowd of guards, servants and nobles trailed out after him. For a few minutes Kiram lay still in the bed, mustering his strength and resolve. The royal bishop was on his way, and Kiram had little doubt about which door this key unlocked.
His first steps were awkward but as he moved his strength and balance returned. He packed only what he could easily carry and knew would be needed. Of Javier’s things he chose the strongest of his fencing swords as well as the simplest of his clothes and all the money he could lay his hands on.
The golden glow of dusk filtered through the academy as Kiram left his room and crept down the stairs. Smokey, sweet scents of roasting meats and fresh bread wafted up to him and he guessed that most people would be gathered in the dining hall for the evening meal.
Still, Kiram had to crouch in the shadows of the staircase and wait for the night warden to pass on his patrol of the academy halls. As soon as the big man was out of sight Kiram raced to the room where Javier was being held. Cadeleonian holy symbols had been painted on the door and Kiram thought he recognized Holy Father Habalan’s writing. He quickly unlocked the door and slipped inside.
Only a sliver of fading sunlight illuminated the barren room. Javier looked up immediately.
Kiram almost cried out at the sight of him. His arms and legs were bound with heavy shackles and he still wore the filthy, blood-stained clothes that he’d been dressed in the night they fought Donamillo. At least a week had passed since he’d last shaved or probably bathed. And yet he still stood straight and proud. He met Kiram’s gaze with a quick smile.
“Tell me you brought soap and I’m yours forever,” Javier said.
“I brought your sword, a change of clothes, and a key to the door.” Kiram forced himself to return Javier’s smile, though it made his heart ache seeing Javier like this.
“Better still,” Javier replied.
Kiram brought the pack but Javier simply caught him in an awkward embrace of
lean muscle and chains. Kiram grasped him in return. They held each other for no more than a moment, but relief and longing made it feel almost endless and unbreakable.
“I missed you so much,” Kiram whispered.
“I’m just glad you’re all right,” Javier murmured in nearly the same breath. “They wouldn’t tell me what had happened to you. Only that you were fevered. I feared—” His voice caught, almost breaking on the emotion beneath the simple words. “You can’t know how good it is to see you.”
“It will be better when we’re away from here.” Kiram drew back. Up close he could see how very lean Javier had grown, but the force of his embrace assured Kiram that he still possessed the strength to run and ride.
“The royal bishop is on his way,” Kiram informed Javier.
Javier nodded. “Sevanyo told me as much.”
“We need to get you out of these chains.” Kiram hoped the tools he’d packed would be enough. He hadn’t reckoned on having to dismantle such massive shackles. They looked like things meant to restrain bulls, not men.
“I think I can crack through the links—”
“It’s all right, Kiram.”
Then Javier opened his hands and white sparks skipped up from his fingers and darted over the locks of the dark shackles. The chains clattered against the floor as they fell aside. Kiram stared at Javier. He’d made it look so easy—almost as effortless as in the days when he’d worn Calixto’s medallion.
“If you could have done that for yourself, you should have already have been out of here,” Kiram told him.
“I couldn’t just leave you.” Javier looked almost embarrassed. “So I decided to wait.”
“In chains?” Kiram demanded in a hash whisper.
“If my guards thought that chains were enough to hold me, then it kept them from using anything stronger and it allowed me to stay here at the academy.” Javier spoke as if this were what any sensible prisoner would do.
“The bastards could have at least given you a bath,” Kiram muttered. He handed Javier fresh clothes and tried not to feel a pang of guilt. While he had been tended and gently treated, Javier had been living like an animal.
Javier tossed his blood-caked clothes aside and dressed quickly. He took his sword with a look of relief, as if he’d felt the absence of a weapon as sorely as a bath.
“I think most everyone is eating right now. Hopefully we’ll be able to get to the stables unnoticed,” Kiram informed Javier.
“Are you sure you want to come with me?” Javier gave him a hard, appraising gaze. “There’ll be no coming back if you do, you know.”
Kiram knew.
If he rode away with Javier now he would leave everything behind: steam engines and the Crown Challenge, his appointment to the royal court and the accolades of his fellow scholars. Beyond even that he risked losing both friends and family. The uncertainty of it all frightened him, but not enough to make him believe that he could simply let Javier go and live with the regret. He’d seen what became of men who sacrificed their hearts’ desires for security. He’d seen what it had done to Musni.
With Javier, the reality of all those adventures he longed to live stood before him. Certainly, they would come at a cost and without assurances. But he had never wanted anything more.
“Of course I’m coming,” Kiram responded. “I’m the one with the maps.”
With that they slipped out of the room. A quick glance down the stairs sent Kiram’s heart racing. Far too many of Prince Sevanyo’s retainers lingered around the statues and portraits that filled the entryway of the dormitory for he and Javier to simply walk past without notice.
“We’ll have to take the gear lift down,” Kiram said.
Javier nodded and they fled upstairs and picked their way through the wreckage of Donamillo’s machines. As Kiram ducked under rusted, arching ribs he felt a fleeting pang of betrayal but then pride in his own triumph. He stepped between panes of milky, cracked glass and realized that they were like fragments of naive childhood that he’d torn apart and scavenged to build his adult life. He’d seen both beauty and horror here and now he was moving on.
If Javier felt anything looking at the wreckage, he didn’t show it.
Once they reached the lift Kiram worked the gears while Javier hauled them down to the ground. Outside the shadows of dusk disguised their flight across the grounds. They crept into the stables, unnoticed.
Lunaluz gave a soft snort of welcome when Javier reached him. Kiram gazed at Firaj and then realized that the old horse was not alone.
Fedeles stepped out from the stall as quietly as a shadow. Kiram’s pulse pounded and a cold sweat pricked his brow. Javier glanced to Kiram and then catching sight of Fedeles, he froze in place.
Hurt flickered through Fedeles’ expression, but then he turned and stroked Firaj’s nose. The old horse leaned into his hands.
“Where will you go?” Fedeles asked.
“North.” Javier relaxed and led Lunaluz from the stall. “We’ll make for the Mirogoth border.”
“You don’t have to go.” Fedeles gazed at Javier. “Rauma could stand against the royal bishop. We could fight him.”
“Too many people have already died.” Javier shook his head. “Besides, this isn’t just because of the royal bishop. I’m a Bahiim now. I can’t retain my title.”
“But I don’t want you to go,” Fedeles said. “I don’t want to be the Duke of Rauma.”
“I’m sorry, Fedeles. But this is what must happen.” To Kiram’s surprise Javier closed the distance between them and pulled Fedeles into an embrace. Kiram realized that this was how they had been before Donamillo had assaulted Fedeles.
“I’m depending on you,” Javier told Fedeles. “You’re the only one who will be able to provide sanctuary for Kiram and I when we need a place to rest and recover.” Javier stepped back slightly and Kiram could see that Fedeles took Javier’s words to heart. He straightened, obviously emulating his older brother, and nodded.
“You will always be welcome in Rauma.” Fedeles glanced to Kiram. “Both of you. Always.”
“Thank you, Fedeles,” Kiram replied. He forced himself to move closer to Fedeles, despite the memory of so much pain. Fedeles had not been to blame for any of it.
He stood beside Fedeles and stroked Firaj’s jaw. Even in the dim light of the stable he could see that the horse looked more glossy than usual.
“You’ve really taken good care of my horse,” Kiram commented.
Fedeles gave him an easy smile and Firaj leaned forward to allow Fedeles to pet him.
“We like each other,” Fedeles said. “We both know what it’s like not to be able to say what you feel. He’s always telling me things with the angle of his ears and the set of his head. And I think sometimes he understands me.”
“His spirit has survived hard battle,” Javier said quietly. “And so has yours.”
Fedeles shrugged Javier’s sentiment aside, but Kiram thought that Javier was probably right. Firaj had been a warhorse. Doubtless he had seen horrors and yet he still retained his gentle nature. Kiram wanted the same to be true for Fedeles.
“Promise me you’ll take care of him,” Kiram said.
Fedeles looked at Kiram in surprise.
“Firaj deserves to live an easy life in his old age, and I know I won’t be able to give that to him. But you could.”
“He’ll live like a prince,” Fedeles assured him.
“Good. Then I’ll take Verano. He certainly doesn’t spook easily,” Kiram decided.
“Neither do you,” Fedeles commented. “He’s a good choice for you.”
Kiram gave Javier and Fedeles a few moments of privacy to say their farewells while he saddled Verano and slipped his bow over his shoulder.
“You should go while there’s still light,” Fedeles said at last. Though the sadness remained in his expression, the hurt no longer lingered there. “Go with God.”
Javier smirked and even Fedeles smiled a little.
&
nbsp; Then Kiram and Javier rode from the academy. They passed through fields and woods, racing between long blue shadows and gold shafts of setting sunlight.
By the morning, they had crossed through ancient paths of mist and darkness to reach the Mirogoth border. That night they shared a small room in a port town, where they lay in each other’s arms and, at last, slept in peace.
List of Characters
Alizadeh Lif-Moussu: Bahiim holy man, husband of Kiram’s uncle Rafie.
Atreau Vediya: Third-year student, Hellion, Nestor’s upperclassman.
Blasio Urracon: Scholar of mathematics.
Calixto Tornesal: Tornesal ancestor who opened the white hell.
Chebli: Dauhd’s friend and member of Haldiim Civil Guard.
Cocuyo Helio: Fourth-year Sagrada student.
Dauhd Kir-Zaki: Kiram’s sister, second daughter of Mother Kir-Zaki.
Donamillo Urracon: Scholar of natural law.
Elezar Grunito: Third-year student and Hellion.
Enevir Helio: Fourth-year student.
Fedeles Quemanor: Javier’s cousin, heir to the dukedom.
Fiez Lif-Worijd: Kiram’s mother’s secretary.
Genimo Plunado: Future Count of Verida and third-year student.
Hashiem Kir-Naham: Haldiim son of a respected pharmacist.
Hierro Fueres: Fourth-year Yillar student, future Duke of Gavado.
Hikmat Kir-Zaki: Kiram’s mother, a wealthy Haldiim business woman.
Holy Father Habalan: Sagrada clergy and history teacher.
Ignacio Nubaran: Sagrada master of war arts.
Javier Tornesal : Third-year student, Duke of Rauma.
Kiram Kir-Zaki: First full-blooded Haldiim admitted to the Sagrada Academy.
Ladislo Bayezar: Second-year student.
Majdi Kir-Zaki: Kiram’s brother, Captain of the Red Witch.
Morisio Cavada: Third-year student from a scholarly family, Hellion.
Musni Rid-Asira: Haldiim friend of Kiram Kir-Zaki’s.
Nakiesh: Irabiim Bahiim.
Liahn: Irabiim Bahiim.
Nazario Sagrada: Historic king, committed atrocities against the Haldiim.
Nestor Grunito: Second-year student, Kiram’s friend, Elezar’s brother.