“Didn’t anyone speak up for Reiv? Anyone at all?” Alicine asked.
“That is not the way of things in Tearia. It is the will of the Priestess, and no one questions her. But then a most unexpected thing happened, for when Reiv became disowned he became unnamed. As you know, he was once called Ruairi, but that name was stripped from him and he was forced to take the name of Reiv. Although the quiet ones at first feared they had lost the leader they believed in, they soon came to realize that hope itself was not lost. It seems there is an ancient prophecy that speaks of one who will come and change Tearia forever, one who will reveal new truths as well as old lies. And that person is called the Unnamed One.
“Most people had forgotten about the Prophecy. It was written in an ancient language, and no known record of it remains. Of those who did remember, few actually believed in it. The Prophecy did not come from any priestess, but from an outsider, a Jecta sorceress it is said. Because of that, it has not been taken seriously.
“But there are some who do believe, and though most of the words of the Prophecy have vanished from memory, bits of it remain alive in people’s minds. After the unnaming of their prince, talk of it sprouted and began to grow. Needless to say, there has been much uneasiness on the part of the Priestess and the royal family, but they have put on a great show of indifference. They believe that to acknowledge the Prophecy will only serve to give it power.”
“I remember when we were arrested,” Alicine said, “people in the streets laughed at Reiv. But there were some who seemed angry that Crymm was treating him like that.”
“Yes. When Reiv was marched through the streets with you and Dayn, the quiet ones became a little less quiet. They were most unhappy to see their prince mistreated like that, and began to talk more and more of the Prophecy and the part they believe he plays in it. Since then, many have taken it into their hearts that Reiv is indeed the Unnamed One. Of course, the Prophecy has not for a moment been forgotten by the royal family or the Priestess. During the hearing that was to decide what was to be done with the three of you, a great deal of consideration was made of it. Reiv’s life was on the line that day.”
“His life? You mean he could have been—?” Alicine shook her head as though saying the word would make it true. “But he didn’t do anything, Brina. He didn’t steal those things.”
Brina placed her hand over Alicine’s. “I know, but it would not have mattered. It was Crymm’s word against his.”
“What made the Priestess spare him?”
“From what I understand, the Priestess communed with the Goddess who told her that to execute the Unnamed One would give him power through martyrdom, and to imprison him would give his supporters cause to fight for him. Instead, it was felt his influence would be weakened by simply having him fade away. And so it was decided the best place for him to fade was Pobu. The Priestess undoubtedly expected a disgruntled Jecta to solve the problem for her. As you know, there are many Jecta who bear a grudge against the royal family and would be happy to see him dead. If that happened, talk of the Prophecy would be put to rest. But now a month has gone by, and by the grace of the gods Reiv is still with us. I fear the Priestess has grown tired of waiting for chance to do her dirty work. It is only a matter of time before she orders someone to do it.”
“So this Prophecy…do you believe in it, Brina? Do you think Reiv is the Unnamed One?”
“I do not believe anyone can predict the future, Alicine, but I do believe in the power of prophecy. I say this not as a contradiction. While I do not believe a prophecy is the truth in its initial telling, I do believe it contains the possibility of the truth. If enough people believe in a prophecy, then chances are it will become true. It is the belief in it that makes it so. Reiv may not be the one this prophecy speaks of, but it will not matter. If people believe him to be so, then he will be. The power of the Unnamed One will be his only because others give it to him, not because the gods will it, or because he chooses to have it. He will have no say in it at all, really. Once again, Reiv will be what everyone expects him to be, not what he wants to be.”
Tears pricked Alicine’s eyes. “It’s all my fault he’s out there now. I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to him.”
“Tell me, child. What happened between you and Reiv? Surely it is not so terrible as that.”
Alicine bit her lip. For a long moment she remained silent. Then she said, “One night, before Reiv went to Meirla, I was helping him treat his hands and…things got out of control.”
“Out of control?”
“We kissed and…” Alicine tensed as she awaited Brina’s condemnation, but Brina seemed neither surprised nor disappointed.
“Go on…”
“Well, I let him kiss me, and I kissed him back, I don’t deny it. But I wasn’t ready for it, Brina. I was scared, but I didn’t know how to stop it. Then Reiv said ‘sin’ and I realized what we were doing was a sin. So I pushed him away and—”
“He said what?”
“Sin…he said ‘sin.’ He said he was sorry, that he was thinking of someone else and knew it wasn’t right. I’m sure he was thinking of Jensa.”
“No, I do not think it was Jensa. Do you not know of Cinnia?”
“Who?”
“I feel fairly certain that when Reiv said ‘Cin’, he meant Cinnia. That was what he called her. This is something Reiv should have told you himself, but it is a very difficult subject for him. Considering what happened between you, it is probably best that I tell you.
“Reiv was once very much in love with a girl named Cinnia. He had known her his entire life and they were inseparable. When he was fifteen and she fourteen they were engaged to be married, but the marriage was not to take place for a year yet, after she came of age. This was to have been that year. In fact, the very day he met you was the day of the wedding.”
“Whose wedding? His and Cinnia’s?” Alicine asked.
“No, Cinnia’s and his brother’s.”
“His brother? But why—” Alicine’s confusion morphed to understanding. “You mean because he was disowned he could not marry Cinnia, and his own brother married her in his place? I can’t believe it.”
“It is difficult, but yes, it is true.”
“No wonder Reiv hates his brother so much.”
“Whyn had little say in any of it. He and Reiv were always close, and Whyn has tried to make amends. But Reiv rebukes him. It was Whyn who intervened on your and Dayn’s behalf. He told me so himself. He knew Reiv was friends with you, and he could not bear to see anything else taken from his brother. I think if it were not for Whyn, you and Dayn might not be here today. The Priestess has little patience for Jecta. To her you are nothing. But Whyn talked her out of harming you that day. She seems to have taken a liking to him. For that we should be grateful.”
“If only Reiv had told me.”
Brina placed her hand on Alicine’s arm. “Reiv is very proud and has lost a great deal in his short life. Please, be patient with him. I know he cares about you very much. If he made you feel uncomfortable with his attentions…well, I am sure the emotion of Cinnia is what moved him to it. I know that does not give you comfort, but please know he has the utmost respect for you. The days surrounding the wedding were particularly difficult for him. With that, and everything that happened with the arrest, the banishment, and you…well, surely you can see the state he was in. I do not mean to justify inappropriate behavior on his part, but please try to understand.”
Alicine nodded. “Thank you for telling me. He deserves an apology; more than that really.”
“Just do not make Reiv think you pity him. That would make things far worse,” Brina warned.
BACK TO ToC
Chapter 6: Game of Chance
Dayn and Jensa made their way along the narrow streets and alleyways of Pobu, but they saw no sign of Reiv. The sun had long since disappeared behind the hills, and the city was drifting into the shadowy hues of night. The only light left to guide
them was that which seeped through the shuttered windows they passed. Muffled voices mixed with occasional laughter would waft through the air, and Dayn and Jensa would pause to listen for Reiv’s voice. But they always moved on, disappointed.
As they turned yet another corner, they heard the droning talk of men punctuated by spurts of rowdy laughter. Jensa grabbed Dayn’s arm. “The tavern,” she said, eyeing a nearby structure. “Maybe he went to the tavern.” From the look on her face, this was not a good thing.
The tavern was yet another mud-brick building, distinguishable from the others only by the smoky glow that beamed through its open door and the noisy energy that radiated from within. From where they stood, Dayn could see that the drinking establishment was packed full with patrons. And from the sounds of the voices inside, the men were well on their way to drunkenness.
“I can’t go in there,” Jensa said. “Women aren’t allowed. You’ll have to go in alone.”
Dayn nodded, but considered the task with dread. He had never been in a tavern and couldn’t imagine what awaited him. He stepped hesitantly toward the entrance, then after a nerve-tingling pause at the threshold, took himself inside.
The place was hot and smoky, and the smell of sour wine and rank sweat permeated the air. Dayn moved his hand to cover his nose, then decided against it; no need looking like an inexperienced boy unaccustomed to the stench of a tavern. He scanned the room, seeking the red head that would surely stand out against the rest. There were battered tables surrounded by men playing games of dice and runes and cards. Mugs of ale and wine passed from server hands to patron mouths in a never-ending flow. Pipes of unknown weed also made the rounds, filling minds with more artificial revelry. But there was no sign of Reiv.
Dayn edged between a wall of customers, apologizing politely as he weaved his way through. His apologies only served to irritate some of the men, however, so he scowled back at them and did his best to blend in. A large group of patrons circled a table in the far corner, and Dayn turned his attention to it. He saw no sign of Reiv, but then he heard, “You can do better than that, prince! Have you no mettle at all?”
Dayn headed in that direction, terrified at the thought of what they might be doing to his cousin. But when he reached the table, he was relieved to see Reiv laughing and arm-wrestling with a man nearly twice his size. Reiv lost the arm battle, though he didn’t seem to care, and ordered himself and the victor a round of drinks.
Dayn planted his feet next to the table and folded his arms. “Reiv, we’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said crossly.
Reiv turned his eyes up to him and a great smile stretched across his face. “Why, it is my little cousin Dayn!” He stood and swayed a bit, then draped an arm around Dayn’s shoulders, leaning into him and grinning like a fool. “Look everyone! It is little Dayn. My little, little cousin.” Reiv laughed and all the men laughed with him.
“Here, little cousin,” one of the men said. He thrust a mug toward Dayn. “Have yourself a drink. You’ve some catching up to do!”
“No, thank you,” Dayn replied coolly. “Reiv, you need to be coming home with me now.”
“Home? Nooooo…I cannot go home. I have not yet finished the contest!” He leaned into Dayn and whispered, “You see, I have challenged everyone here and have promised a drink to each and every man who beats me. But if I win, they must buy me a drink. Thing is, it does not much matter to me if they win, for even when they do, I buy myself a drink anyway!” He laughed boisterously, losing his balance. Dayn caught him in his arms and lifted him upright.
“Oh dear,” Reiv said. “The room seems to be moving. Did you feel that, Dayn? You usually are so sensitive to those things.” He did not wait for a reply, however, and plopped back onto the bench, pulling Dayn down beside him. He then called the next man to the challenge.
Reiv lost again and ordered another round of drinks, paying for them with strands of shell beads from around his neck. He had long since run out of coin and had begun trading his shells for drink instead. His hair now hung loose around his shoulders, the cockle band that had once bound it long since gone. Most of the beads that had covered his chest were also missing.
Dayn watched as his cousin threw back his head in merriment. In that instant he caught sight of Reiv’s ear. His jaw dropped at the sight of it. “God, Reiv, what have you done?”
At first Reiv looked puzzled, but then seemed to realize where his cousin’s attention was focused. Reiv laughed and pulled his hair away from his ear. “Pierced. Do you like it? I won it in one of the matches when the loser had no coin to buy me a drink. But he did have this earring and offered it instead.”
Reiv’s earlobe was caked with dried blood, and the earring that dangled from it was made of crudely fashioned metal inlaid with oily stones. It looked old and none-too-clean.
“How did you pierce it?” Dayn asked, concerned by the look of it.
“Oh, uh…” Reiv paused for a moment, his expression blank. He turned his eyes toward the crowd of men gathered across the table from him. “My friends, how did we pierce my ear exactly? I do not seem to recall.”
The men glanced at each other as though struggling to remember the details of the piercing incident.
“I think it was a fork or something,” one said.
“No, no…it was a cork-knife…from behind the bar. Wasn’t it?” another added.
“Don’t be a fool,” a third chimed in. “We just shoved the earring in. Remember?”
Reiv then turned his attention back to his unhappy cousin and shrugged as if resolved to the fact that neither he, nor anyone else, was in any condition to recall at the moment.
“You know, if I win a few more rounds,” Reiv said, his speech beginning to slur, “I will leave looking like a true Shell Seeker... well, except for the tattoos.” His face lit up. “Friends, can anyone here do tattoos?”
“That’s it. We’re leaving,” Dayn said, rising from the bench.
The crowd of men groaned and jeered at Dayn, and many muttered that they had not yet had the opportunity to challenge the prince. It was obvious Reiv had little power in his hands and had, thus far, proved to be an easy match for the much older and stronger patrons. There were still a few beads left to be won, and the men obviously wanted their chance at them.
A hand from behind shoved Dayn back onto the bench. The next challenger took his place across from Reiv whose elbow was firmly planted.
But Dayn persisted. “Reiv, enough of this. Under no circumstance are you to test your body further. You’ll be lucky not to lose your lobe to infection as it is. Come on. You’re in no shape to contest anyone.”
Reiv did not respond, his concentration fully upon the battle of the arms. He lost quickly and pulled another strand from around his neck. “Beads or drink?” he asked the victor.
“Drink!” the man replied.
Reiv motioned the waiter over and held up two fingers. The waiter was standing by, and gladly traded two full mugs of wine for two strands of bead. Reiv chugged his down and slammed the mug onto the table, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Who’s mext…I mean next……yes, I nean next,” he hollered.
Suddenly a voice boomed from behind the crowd, “The prince has had enough. He leaves now.”
Dayn and Reiv swiveled their heads in the direction of the voice as a sea of glazed, blood-shot eyes turned toward it. Complexions momentarily paled, and a few went almost green. Mutterings fell to hushed whispers and low grumbles.
Reiv rose and swayed by the bench. “Well, if it is not Torin,” he practically shouted. “My friends…this is Torin.” He waved an arm toward the Shell Seeker now standing at his back.
Torin stared at him in silence, his muscular arms folded across his chest.
Reiv leaned across the table toward the group of onlookers and whispered loudly, “He does not like me very much, and I cannot stand the sight of his ugly face either!” The crowd muttered their sympathies and agreements.
Reiv st
epped past the bench and wheeled around to face Torin. “What is your business here?” he demanded.
“My business is with you. But I’m not here to argue our affection for one another. I’m here to fetch you from this place and take you home.”
“Home? Home?” Reiv guffawed. “Let me see, where might that be exactly? No, I think this will be my home from now on. I rather like it here.” He swayed, then braced himself against the table. “No, you go home and leave me be. I have no use for you or the charity of your sister.”
Dayn slid from the bench and took his place alongside Torin, facing the increasingly agitated Reiv with a frown. “You are full of drink, cousin, and you’re going to say something you’ll regret—if, indeed, you remember anything after this night.”
“Well, Dayn, since you have nothing nice to say to me either, how about you take yourself out of here with Torin. I have no need of either of you at the moment.”
Torin’s tolerance was clearly lacking. He stepped toward Reiv and grabbed him by the arm. Reiv glared at the hand upon his person and attempted to pull free, but Torin’s grip was much too strong. Reiv was spun round and pinned with both arms at his back. Some of the patrons moved to his defense, but Torin shot them a warning that backed them down immediately.
Torin turned Reiv toward the door, but his attention came to rest on a man standing nearby. “What do you have there?” Torin demanded.
The man followed Torin’s gaze to the shell bracelet that was stretched around his own thick wrist. “I won it from the prince,” he said defensively.
Torin let loose his grip on Reiv and took a step in the man’s direction. Reiv staggered as the room began to spin. Dayn grabbed his elbow to steady him.
Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One Page 4