Torin puffed up immediately and stormed in Reiv’s direction. Jensa leapt between them, easily stopping the older and much stronger Torin in his tracks.
“Enough of this!” she said. “You both have work to do. Now get on with it.”
Torin clenched his jaw while Reiv grinned a grin of supreme satisfaction. His comment had clearly touched a nerve in the man’s tough hide.
After some time, an eternity in Reiv’s eyes, the tent was unloaded and raised, sundries pulled out and stored, and the remaining supplies secured to the cart for the trip to the selling grounds a short distance away. Though the Jecta were allowed to sell their wares there, camping near the walls was strictly forbidden. Tearian Guards were assigned to patrol the grounds at night, and for that reason valuable merchandise was never displayed until morning.
“Are we finished or not?” Reiv asked, tapping his foot with impatience.
“Yes…yes,” Jensa said. Then she ducked into the tent.
Reiv followed. “You said you would take me to Pobu as soon as we were unpacked. We are unpacked.”
Jensa shuffled through a crate, pulling out bits of deadwood and two flints. “Pile these outside the tent,” she said, handing him the wood. “And get a fire going. I need to start us a meal.”
“A meal?” Reiv cried. “But you said—“
“I said I would get you to Pobu as soon as things were settled here. We have not eaten in hours. Shall I send Torin to unload without my help and with an empty belly?”
“I would not care,” Reiv said.
“Well, I would,” Jensa replied. “Besides, I’m hungry and you are, too, whether you admit it or not.”
Kerrik bounded into the tent. “I’m starving. It was high sun hours ago.” He rummaged through a sack and pulled out a chunk of palm nut.
“Just one, Kerrik,” Jensa said. “And it wasn’t hours ago.”
Kerrik thrust the bag toward Reiv. “Want one?” he asked.
“No. I am sick of those things.”
“You used to like them,” Kerrik said. He tossed the bag back where he found it, munching on the nut.
Reiv trudged out of the tent and threw the wood to the ground, then started the fire with a bit of dry grass and the flints. Jensa joined him shortly thereafter, holding four skewers with limp, silvery fish impaled on them. She handed one to Reiv and the other to Kerrik, while she held the remaining two over the flames. The fish were not big; the largest were to be sold at Market, though only for a pittance. Tearian law limited how much profit they could make. The vast waters belonged to the royal family, and it was only by their grace that the Shell Seekers were allowed to sell the spoils of the sea at all.
Torin walked up and grabbed one of the skewers from Jensa. He held it over the flames for a moment more, then plopped onto the ground and pulled out a small knife. Slicing the fish down the middle, he picked out its entrails and began to eat.
“That is practically raw,” Jensa scolded. “Do you want to get worms?”
“I have things to do in case you haven’t noticed,” Torin said. “We arrived later than we should have. Most of the others have already set up, and we won’t likely get a good spot if we dawdle here. Besides, I’m not going to have the help I usually do, thanks to him.” He shot Reiv a look, then continued tearing into the fish.
But Reiv refused the bait; arguing with Torin would only prolong his departure for Pobu, and it was already taking long enough. He pulled his fish off the flames and sat cross-legged in the sand as he used his thumb to split the fish.
“You, too?” Jensa shook her head. “I see I will have two bellies to medicate.”
“Tearians eat raw fish all the time,” Reiv said. “It is considered a delicacy.”
“Hmmph,” she said. “The only thing delicate about it is the feeling in the gut that follows.”
Reiv rolled his eyes and dug his teeth into the fish, chewing quickly and swallowing it down in gulps. He tossed the remains onto the fire and started to wipe his greasy hands down his tunic. But then he thought better of it. He had worked too hard to make himself look presentable that morning. He raked his hands through the sand, then rose and folded his arms across his chest. “So, are we ready to go then?”
“Do you mind if I finish mine first?” Jensa asked with annoyance.
Reiv sighed.
“You might as well grab some palm nut while you’re waiting,” she said. “That fish won’t hold you for long.”
“She’s right, you know,” Torin said. “You’re going to need all the strength you can muster when you face Alicine today.” He laughed.
“You find that amusing, do you?” Reiv said. “Well I think I can handle one girl, and a rather small one at that.”
“You didn’t do such a good job of handling her before,” Kerrik piped in.
“What do you know about it?” Reiv asked.
“I know you ran away because of her.”
“I did no such thing!”
“Oh yes you did,” Torin interjected. “Hopefully when you run away from her this time, you’ll run in the opposite direction of Meirla.”
“Gods…enough!” Jensa said, rising. “Come Reiv. I can stand no more of this. Let us get you to Pobu before I am forced to kill the both of you.”
Reiv nodded and turned to leave, but Kerrik called for him to stop. Reiv complied grudgingly. “What is it?” he said.
“Do you have the bracelet for Alicine?” Kerrik asked.
“Yes, in my money pouch.”
“And some coin in case you want to buy her something?”
“Yes, yes.”
“You’d better let me check your kohl,” Kerrik said.
Reiv heaved a sigh and leaned down to give Kerrik a closer look at the black design painted around his eyes.
“Looks good,” Kerrik said. “Your hair, too. Those cockles look really nice wound in your red hair like that. I don’t know about the tunic, though. It doesn’t look like something a Shell Seeker would wear. But the necklaces make up for it I guess.”
“Thank you. May I go now?”
“I’m only trying to help,” Kerrik said. “You do want to get her back, don’t you?”
“Since when is a seven-year-old an expert on women?”
“Since I started paying attention.”
BACK TO ToC
Chapter 3: Painted Faces
The Jecta city of Pobu was a dismal-looking place from a distance, its brown buildings huddled against an even browner countryside. The population that lived there didn’t have the luxury of spending their hard-earned coin on adornment. They were barely able to put food in their mouths much less color into their lives.
Pobu was only a short distance east of the Shell Seeker encampment, not a far walk, but Jensa insisted she escort Reiv there nonetheless. There were too many disgruntled Jecta who resented his past life as a prince. Strangely enough, Torin had agreed, and he rarely showed any interest in Reiv’s well being.
Reiv and Jensa reached the courtyard past the main entrance to the city and headed though an alley that led them to a side street. They saw few residents; most had already gone to the Market grounds to make preparations for the following day. Although the Shell Seekers were always the most popular vendors, the Tearian patrons were still willing to pick through Jecta wares looking for a bargain. Tearians were far too lazy to create their own crafts. They despised the Jecta, but didn’t mind paying a bit of coin for a particularly nice piece of pottery or a trinket or two.
At last Jensa and Reiv arrived at the hut of the Spirit Keeper, a dwelling much like any other except that it was surrounded by a flowering garden of medicinal herbs. Nannaven, the Spirit Keeper’s given name, was a wise old healer who had taken in Reiv, Dayn, and Alicine when they were banished from Tearia for alleged thievery. But Reiv had experienced difficulties adjusting to Pobu, rejected not only by the residents who resented him, but also by Alicine who had spurned his advances. The shame and humiliation he felt after the incident with
Alicine had been the catalyst he needed to leave Pobu. But neither she nor Dayn had taken his abandonment of them lightly. Reiv could not really blame them. Dayn and Alicine were, after all, from a place far away, a place that until recently Reiv had not even known existed. As fate would have it, Dayn had turned out to be Reiv’s cousin as well as his friend. Reiv could only hope that Dayn still considered him as such, and that Alicine had forgiven him for the eagerness of his hands upon her.
When they reached Nannaven’s door, Jensa departed, claiming the need to help her brothers finish setting up the booth. The strange expression on her face left Reiv curious as to whether there was another reason as well. He felt sure Dayn would want to see Jensa; her beauty could be mesmerizing and she had openly befriended him. But her departure with Reiv three weeks earlier had clearly stung him. Since that day, Reiv had begun to notice that Jensa always asked about Dayn whenever Torin returned from Pobu with news. This day, however, she made no mention of Dayn, and disappeared into the streets without another word.
Standing before Nannaven’s door, Reiv felt a rush of nausea. He knew it wasn’t from the nearly-raw fish he had eaten. He hadn’t seen Dayn and Alicine in almost a month, and the last time they had spoken there was much anger between them. More than anything, Reiv wanted to make things right, to make things the way they had been before.
He pulled in a steadying breath and rapped on the door. It swung open immediately and there stood Dayn, his blue eyes alight with excitement. A grin stretched across Dayn’s face as he looked Reiv up and down. He burst into laughter and threw his arms around Reiv, grabbing him in a fierce hug. At first Reiv felt uncomfortable at the closeness of his cousin, but he soon found himself laughing and hugging Dayn back with equal enthusiasm.
Dayn ushered him inside and poured them each a mug of cool tea, then motioned for Reiv to join him at the table. They sat across from each other and leaned across the tabletop, anxious to spill all the news.
“I can’t get over the sight of you,” Dayn said. “You’ve changed so much.”
Reiv looked down at himself and smiled. “I think being a Shell Seeker suits me. You are looking well also. Much more Jecta-like, I might add.”
It was true. Dayn had given up his Kiradyn tunic and trousers for a kilt-like wrap around his hips. His chest was bare and tan, and his arms much more muscular. His pale hair was shoulder-length now, and was pulled back and bound at his neck. Somehow it made him look older than his sixteen years.
“I realized my desire for conformity is stronger than my need for modesty,” Dayn said. “But I’m not so sure about piercing holes in my body like the others here do.” He glanced at Reiv’s hands. “You’re not wearing your gloves.”
Reiv looked at the mottled hands wrapped around his own mug and realized he was not. He had not worn the gloves in weeks now and had grown so accustomed to it, he had quite forgotten Dayn had never seen the scars before. It seemed years since he had refused to show them to anyone.
“I cannot hunt for shells with gloves on, and no one there seems to care what my hands look like anyway. Even I do not care so much anymore. But you know, they seem to have gotten better since I have been with the Shell Seekers. It must be the seawater. They say it has healing properties.”
Dayn grinned and tilted his head. “What’s that on your eyes? I mean…is it permanent?”
Reiv chuckled, realizing the black pattern that outlined them must appear strange to his cousin. “No, it is kohl, not tattoo. It protects them from the glare.” A gleam came to his eyes, further accentuating their violet color against the black outline of the kohl. “The girls there really seem to like it.” He winked, and they both laughed.
“Speaking of girls,” Reiv said, craning his neck, “where is Alicine?”
“She’s out tending to some patients, but hopefully she’ll be home soon. Nannaven had some mysterious errand to run and left Alicine to finish up the rounds. She looks forward to seeing you, cousin.”
Reiv noticed that Dayn’s eyes had shifted at that last remark, but his heart could not help but leap. “It will be nice to see her, too. I hope she is well.”
“Yes, she’s well.”
“And does she still wish to go back home to Kirador?”
“Yes, but she doesn’t talk of it as much lately. I keep hoping she’ll grow happy here, but sometimes she just seems so sad.” Dayn shook his head slowly. “I don’t know how to make her happy, Reiv.”
Reiv nodded, but said not a word. As he considered what Dayn had just said, the thought occurred to him that maybe there was something else that Alicine needed in order to be happy. Perhaps he was the source of her sadness…because they had parted with harsh words…because she missed him and didn’t really think him so bad. His fingers slid to the money pouch at his side, reminding him of the shell bracelet tucked inside. He had worked hard to craft it, hoping Alicine would accept it as a token of his affection, praying she would consider a future with him now that he had made something of himself as a Shell Seeker. But his thoughts were interrupted as the door pushed open and Alicine swept into the room.
She stopped suddenly and stared at him, her face awash with unreadable emotion. Her lips struggled to form a smile, but seemed to waver as though conflicted.
Reiv smiled. “Hello, Alicine,” he said.
“Hello,” she responded, but her tone was somewhat cooler than he had hoped. No doubt she was not as forgiving as Dayn had implied.
“You look different,” she said.
Reiv grinned sheepishly. “Yes, I suppose I do. You look well.”
“Thank you,” she said. She walked over and sat across from him at the table, staring at the tabletop as though afraid to meet his gaze. She no longer wore the form-fitting sarong he had last seen her in, but was attired in a modest tunic dress the color of dark umber, tied at the waist with a belt of patterned cloth. Her black hair was pulled back and braided in one long plait, much as she had worn it the day they first met. Her eyes moved to his hands.
“They look better,” she said, nodding in their direction.
Reiv held them up and rotated them back and forth. “Yes, I was telling Dayn that I think the sea does them good.”
“Does it do you good as well?” she asked.
“Yes,” Reiv replied, “it does.”
“So you like it there?”
“Very much.”
“You’ll not be coming back then?”
“No, Alicine, I will not be coming back, at least not to live, but I was wondering—”
“What’s that on your eyes?”
“Oh, it is kohl. All Shell Seekers wear it. Jensa came up with the design. The first day I refused it and—”
Alicine cut him short. “So I suppose that is what you are now—a Shell Seeker?”
“Well, yes,” he said.
“So what will you be doing next, tattooing your body and piercing your ears?”
“Jecta paint their faces, too,” Dayn interjected. “Besides, Reiv says the girls like him with the kohl and—” His face went lax as Alicine’s hostile glare shot his way.
“Well,” Alicine said to Reiv, “as long as the girls there like it.”
“Am I to take it, then, that you do not?” Reiv asked.
Alicine turned her head aside with indifference. “No, not really, but what does it matter what I think?”
Reiv’s face flushed with anger mixed with humiliation. He pushed up from the table. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, you clearly have no need of a life here with us. Obviously Jensa has much more to offer.”
Reiv leaned across the table, resting his hands upon it as he eyed Alicine darkly. “You know why I left. Why are you throwing this up in my face? You know there is no future for me here. Do you want me to return to a place where I am neither wanted nor appreciated?”
Angry blotches rushed to Alicine’s cheeks. “I don’t care what you do! Stay in Meirla for all I care. Stay there and take a Shell Seeker wife and
have Shell Seeker children and live happily ever after surrounded by their scanty clothes and painted faces.”
“Well as long as I have your permission! You know, maybe I will do that very thing right now. Would that make you happy?” He stormed toward the door.
Then it was Alicine’s turn to leap from the table. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she shouted.
“You know full well what it means!” he shouted back.
“I only know that you walked out the door and left me and Dayn behind and now you’re doing it again.”
Dayn rose. “Alicine, enough…”
But she persisted. “Well, Reiv, as long as you have Jensa and the other girls, then that’s all that matters.”
“I do not have to listen to this,” Reiv said. He swung the door open violently, then turned his head toward Dayn. “I will see you later, Dayn.” Then he bolted into the street.
BACK TO ToC
Chapter 4: Loyalties Lie
Mahon walked toward the palace, fully prepared to offer his condolences to Whyn, who had summoned him. As Commander of the Guard, Mahon had been busy organizing security for Market and had only just learned of the King’s death. The announcement of Sedric’s passing had not yet been made public. The family would grieve in private this evening, withholding formal announcements until morning. Though Mahon was the husband of Brina, sister of the Queen, he had no doubt that he was the last family member to be informed of the King’s demise. Mahon and Brina had not shared a bedchamber for sixteen years now, and while he had the royal family’s sympathies, he knew he did not have their respect.
As Mahon approached the palace, he could not help but wonder why he had been ordered to keep his meeting with Whyn a secret from Brina. He did not normally share information with her about his duties; they barely spoke to one another as it was. No doubt the Prince’s summons had something to do with Reiv, Whyn’s twin who had been banished from Tearia. Reiv was a Jecta now, impure and discarded because of the damage to his hands; but that was not why Mahon despised him. It was Reiv who had driven the latest nail into the coffin of Mahon’s marriage. During Reiv’s recent banishment to Pobu, Mahon had dutifully supported it, but Brina had fought it with all her heart and soul. She had always loved Reiv as though he were her own son. But he was not.
Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One Page 2