by Laura Abudo
“I don’t want…” he started but she turned away, not wanting to hear what he had to say. “Please, listen to me.”
She turned back to him. “Yes?”
“I don’t want to be rid of you. The girls. It’s just complicated,” he told her. He watched her eyes as she looked at him. And there is was again. That expression. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Did she realize it was not possible? Hadn’t the gods told her he was never going to be hers?
“I am returning home to marry. I will take over my father’s lands and his position in the King’s court. The girls are in your hands when we reach your home. I will have to go.”
Karl watched him for a moment then turned on her heel and took two steps before his hand caught her shoulder. There was the shudder again.
His hand grasped her shoulder, a firm pressure holding her in place. Her breath caught as he moved close, pressing himself against her back. His mouth, his rough unshaved cheek and jaw were just a hair away from her neck. A tingle swept from her neck through her chest and into the deepest parts of her in anticipation of feeling his mouth on her skin. When it didn’t happen, when all he did was stand there breathing her in, she turned her ear toward him, as to question.
“I’m afraid my destiny is not the same as yours,” he whispered in a strained, gruff voice. “I have obligations elsewhere.” And he was gone.
Karl staggered. Her heart broke in that instant. She remembered to breathe when Horse nudged her hand on the fence she was using to hold herself steady. She hated herself for falling for this man. He was handsome, gentle with the girls, thoughtful…she fell onto her knees beside the fence. What had she done?
The messenger returned the next morning. He’d delivered their notes to the post further to the east and forwarded hers to her parents’ estate. One was waiting for Doran from the King’s office. Amias held the sealed letter looking at it for long minutes before he dared open it, fearing the worst news of his father. As he read, Karl noted that his shoulders relaxed, he re-read a few of the passages and then was able to breathe freely.
To everyone’s cheers he announced that his father lived. He was still ill and weak but expected to recover. Amias was needed home to fulfill his obligations in case of a downturn in his father’s condition. King’s orders. The letter was passed to Kel, who read it out loud until the words, “I regrettably need to inform you of the passing of your betrothed…” at which point he read in silence. Karl moved to his side and read it with him. Amias waved his hand as if that part of the letter were unimportant.
…the passing of your betrothed, Ruby Cyntai Latha Marden. It is with mixed emotions, both sorrow and relief to inform you that her younger sister you will wed in her stead. She will be prepared for your forthcoming nuptials within the fortnight, which will take place at the home of your father when he has recovered. An invitation for the King to the ceremony between yourself and Coral Estel Teres Marden is required. Please pass my best…”
The look of horror on Karl’s face was unmistakable. Amias felt shame and regret at hurting her so. He wanted to tell her how he felt about her but it would do well for no one. It would make everything worse. He would go marry this unknown girl, have his own children, grow old and die as he was destined to do. He hoped his wife was homely and stupid, so he could perform his duties, be done with her, not have to worry about attraction and the messy business of love. The last thing he wanted now was love.
Karl rushed from the room. She didn’t know what to feel. Well, she knew what to feel but she was so full of every emotion imaginable she couldn’t select just one at the moment. When she got outside, away from everyone else, hidden in the latrine, away from the eyes of even the guards, tears welled up in her eyes. Great gulping breaths escaped her as she remembered reading the words on the paper Coral Estel Teres Marden. She hadn’t heard her real name in many, many years.
Many years before…
The five Brothers sat together at the end of a long rectangular table. One had papers in front of him and the others watched the woman standing in front of them intently as they leaned their heads together in heated discussion. She wasn’t offered a seat.
“This girl solidifies and guarantees a Sanctuary in that entire county,” one reminded them.
“Do you know how many we can reach on her father’s lands? We can’t pass this up,” another said.
“She’s already here, been here for six weeks, we can’t just stop the process,” a third commented.
“She cannot be a Sister,” the woman told them with a clear tone. She stood tall, taller than any of them, very slim in her yellow robes, and out of cloister she wore a yellow veil over her face. They had agreed to meet with her out of cloister only because she’d had word from the gods and it was urgent. “I’ve had a vision. She is not to be a Sister.”
The Brothers weren’t in the habit of questioning divine inspiration but one had to ask her, “Are you sure it wasn’t a dream? What exactly were you told?”
She gazed at him with eyes that stopped his heart for several seconds. He shouldn’t have asked, he thought to himself as it started beating again. That woman could chill the whiskers off a pig snout.
“My vision was from the gods. She is not to wear the yellow robes. I saw her in the grey robes of a brother.”
“A Brother?!” one demanded, spitting in protest. “She’s a girl!”
“She is not to live cloistered with us,” the woman insisted. “It’s been forbidden.”
Without a clear explanation the Brothers had a hard time coming to a decision about the girl. They needed her in the Faold. They needed her father’s support and the followers from his lands. The King would allow a new Sanctuary in Danyc if they had both western and eastern interests covered.
“We need her in the Faold,” one told her leaning forward to make his point. “It is without question. But she is a girl. She cannot be a Brother.”
“I understand it is unusual. I don’t doubt we should keep her close at hand. But she cannot be a Sister. The gods did not tell me why. But they were insistent. If you don’t agree I am to dispatch her to the underworld.”
All five of the Brothers gasped in horror at the thought a Sister would take the life of a child, even at the urging of the gods. Colour drained from the face of the Brother who then asked, “It is that dire?”
She nodded without delay.
The man signed a parchment in front of him then passed the quill to the brother to his side. They took turns signing the document, sealed it with wax and stamp. He let the woman look over the document. She turned and walked out without a further word.
“Send for the girl,” Brother Chelm said to no one in particular.
She was brought from the underground Sister quarters. The girl of ten years wore the drab yellow robes of the Sisterhood. Her long brown hair was tied back in a single plate down her back. Her blue eyes peered at them curiously.
“Coral Estel Teres Marden,” one said and she smiled. “The Faold brought you in to be a Sister. To learn and live as a Sister.”
“Yes, Brother.”
“We feel you are better suited to a life out of cloister, to join us in the Brotherhood.”
The little girl’s eyes opened wide in surprise. She had never seen a girl become a Brother before. She didn’t know it was possible. Oh, to get out of that dungeon. Anything was better than that dungeon.
Another Brother told her, “We will send word to your family. Go pack your things, return the robe to the Sisters and meet me in the boys’ quarters. You will now be known as Karl. We won’t be using your other name.”
“Yes, Brother!” she called, spinning to run out the door.
As Coral ran down the steps of the Sister quarters into the darkness below she wondered if the Sisters were angry with her. Just the day before she’d stumbled into a room where two of the tall ones, ‘the trees’ one of the other girls maliciously called them, huddled talking. She froze in place for only seconds, thinking
she’d been so scared of the look she’d received that she couldn’t move. When she was able to move again she apologized four times before leaving. Yes, that must be why they didn’t want her here. But it didn’t matter. She was getting out of the dungeons and up into sunlight and real air. No more itchy yellow robes. It was a good day.
Chapter 10
Separation
Kel watched her run out the door. He frowned, knowing the news was painful. She tried hard to hide feelings for his Captain, first as a Brother of the Faold, then as a woman with an important task set before her. Kel had always attempted to be friendly with her, maybe dampen the sting of what was to come, for he knew the fate of Doran. She knew. She knew he had to return home and take care of his part of the world. Did she think that would change?
“Poor thing,” he whispered to himself.
“Why?” Krisa asked. He hadn’t noticed her beside him.
“Oh, just grown up stuff. She’s upset.”
“No, she isn’t,” Krisa told him, looking toward the door. “She’s happy.”
“Happy?” Captain Doran interrupted.
She nodded, walking away, “Very happy.”
Amias looked to Kel for an explanation. He could only shrug in confusion. He grabbed the letter from Kel’s hand and stomped out the door to find her. All the anger he’d been feeling, all the rage at the gods for the trick they had played on him, all of it welled up in him at the thought she was happy he was off to marry another girl when she’d made it so clear she wanted him. Was she playing a game? Was she in love with Kel? Was this her relief at being rid of him now so she could go to Kel? Was she playing both of them?
He roared into the sky in fierce rage when he left the building. He stomped around the yard, checking the barn, the guard tower, around by the tree line. He finally spotted her exiting the latrine with a huge smile and red eyes like she’d been crying. Tears of joy, no doubt. Her expression dropped when she saw his face.
“What…”
He shook the letter at her. “Overjoyed, I see. Well, at least you can go home now.”
“You don’t…” she started, smiling.
“Stop!” he shouted, scaring her back a step. “I haven’t said anything because I was trying to be kind. I know. I know what you’ve been doing. I trusted you. I went up onto that hill and got involved in some scheme. I held myself back from you because of my future, because I didn’t want to hurt you and knew I’d get hurt. The girls were more important than anything we could feel for each other. And now I see your happiness at me having a wife, of leaving you and I am so mad at myself. I’m sending Kel with you and the girls. Send my men to the King for further orders when you are done with them.” He turned to leave.
“Wait, what are you talking about?” she demanded sounding annoyed. “What scheme? And you don’t know…”
“Take Kel, he’s a good man. Just don’t torture him like you did me,” he bellowed, passing Kel as he came out into the yard at the sound of shouting.
She pushed Kel out of the way as she stomped off into the forest, so bewildered at the attack and anger in Amias’ voice and face. She ran, just ran. The limbs and brush, spider webs and mud pulled at her. Voices called to her but she didn’t want to see anyone, listen to anyone or be near anyone. Again, tears pushed out of her eyes, but this time not from joy. She finally stopped, completely surrounded by trees and staggered to sit on a log. She yelled in frustration and sat crying silently.
The girls were worried. Amias had ridden off in anger, leaving them behind, without good-byes. Brother Karl hadn’t come back and was missing in the forest for hours. Kel assured them they were safe at the outpost and they still had him and the others. Karl would return and they would carry on like normal. He began to worry about her himself as the sun set and she hadn’t come back. He sent Pat and one of the outpost guards to search for her but they told him it would be almost impossible to find her in the dark. Especially if she didn’t want to be found.
The girls slept fretfully. Glory had a nightmare about Sisters staring at her with red eyes. Pearl asked someone to escort her to the latrine four times during the night so she could stare into the blackness of the forest. Krisa laid awake listening and wishing she was out there looking for Karl.
The storms came again but further north still. The sky lit up brilliant white for so long they thought for sure that whatever place was the target must have had casualties. Silently, the men prayed, like they had never prayed before. Now that they knew the gods heard them, they prayed harder.
Amias lay on his bedroll pressed up against a rocky slope, watching the white flashes in the sky to the north, listening to the booms that roared through the night sky. He worried about the distance of the storm. It seemed to be as far north as the King’s palace, as far north as his home though that was much more East. He hoped it didn’t stretch all the way across to the coast.
The sky remained white for ages, it seemed. Constant flickering and blinding flashes forced him to keep his eyes closed. That storm was much worse than what they had experienced several nights before, he reasoned as it was a day away and still so fierce.
When it finally ended he closed his eyes in exhaustion. He’d ridden the horse hard all day, stopping only when they had to. The sooner he got to the King, made his report, and then headed home, the better. He could meet his new wife, forget about Karl, make babies and raise his own daughters. He had always thought he’d wanted sons but now…he wanted daughters. He wanted a spunky one like Pearl, a little lady like Glory, a wise….
And he was asleep.
“Listen,” a male voice said to him. He opened his eyes to find the world a muted grey with nine figures standing around him. He couldn’t move but didn’t need to. “Your delay has put everyone in peril. Trust that she will keep them safe.”
Panic rose in his chest for Karl at the god’s words. “She suffers. You are a fool. You have driven her away from them at their time of need. And now you aren’t there either. We cannot send you back, for you must go to the King. Are you ready?”
Confused, Amias nodded inwardly. His world jolted sideways then forward, his breath knocked out of him. A lingering voice called to him, “Remember the child, she has much to teach you,” and they were gone.
He opened his eyes to a world of full colour, of the bright orange of flames and the red of blood in the blackness of the night. Screams filled his ears as people ran about him panicking. He was in the castle courtyard. His bedroll still under him, his blanket clutched to his shoulders, his horse danced around in fear at being suddenly in the middle of chaos rather than asleep off the road. He led the horse to a guard with a blank shocked expression and told him to stable him. Without checking to see if he did, Amias rushed up the steps of the Keep and pushed his way inside, where he knew the King would be protected by his men.
His uniform gave him passage through the Keep. Salutes flew around him as he made his way toward the inner rooms. A door was opened for him by a guard and he entered the war room. The King and three advisors sat at a large table, facing two Sisters in yellow robes, covered head to foot, and a Brother.
“Your Majesty,” he shouted, “they are the …”
And they all froze except for the Sisters. One approached him and walked in a circle examining him. She let out a quick breath of air under her veil like she was amused at his appearance. The other still stood near the war table.
Amias saw the confusion in his King’s eyes. He could see the exertion in them all as they tried to free themselves of the power that held them in place. Amias pulled and pushed, struggling to breathe. Remember the child he had been told. Relax and you will be able to breathe. In a great effort, completely against his instinct to fight, Amias forced himself to relax every muscle in his body and go limp. He fell to the floor. When he stood to face the Sister circling him he noted her eyes smiling at him. He was a toy she was playing with. He could see evil in those eyes.
The Sister near the table lifted
a hand toward him. Pearl. Pearl was brilliant. She had knocked them back, threw them against the wall. But he had no idea how. He thought of her, the sweet little face and her bobbed hair that bounced as she ran down the road toward him, so happy to see him. She was angry, protective, worried about them and she had tossed the Sisters about like puppets.
Amias stared at the Sister by the table and imagined the yellow robes as a shroud. A shroud that tightened and tightened, squeezing the Sister into a cocoon. Her eyes popped open in surprise as her robes indeed began to encapsulate her. She reached up with her hands to her face but couldn’t remove the scarves that were smothering her. He swung around to find the Sister with evil eyes trying to escape out the door. His hands rose in an arc and slammed toward her. From the back of her yellow robes burst wet red blood from two punctures on either side of her spine. She collapsed against the door then fell, dead.
The room erupted in noise. Amias fell to one knee only to be lifted by the King’s advisors only moments later. The Brother was taken into custody and locked up securely. The King came forward, surrounded now by guards, tears and admiration in his eyes for the son of an old friend of his.
“What is happening?” he asked, out of breath. “They just came to me saying they saved most of the city from the storms. We thought for sure the gods had ended the world tonight. Yet they came and they promised…”
Amias shook his head. “They brought the storms.”
“What are the gods playing at?” the King demanded, not really expecting an answer. He looked much older than Amias remembered. He was graying fast with deep creases in his face, aging noticeably over the last year. The worry of fever across the land must have taken what was left of his youth. His age was between that of Amias and his father and he had younger sons of his own, but he had aged so fast.
“It isn’t the gods. The Faold is acting on their own, putting their members in positions of power. Did they try to get you to bring one in as advisor?”