Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One

by Akers, Tracy A.

  “Well you did not win it fairly, then,” Torin said to the man. “Hand it over.”

  The man bristled. He glanced at the other patrons who were wearing their own shell winnings, all necklaces or shell strands draped around their necks. But none had anything as fine as the bracelet, and the man was clearly not keen on parting with it.

  Torin leaned in threateningly. “I said hand it over. It belongs to the prince.”

  “He seemed eager enough to wager it,” the man said with a scoff. “Obviously there wasn’t much value in it for him.”

  “The boy’s in no condition to determine what’s of value and what’s not.”

  “Well, he was in good enough condition when he offered it. It was the first thing won from him tonight.”

  Torin turned to Reiv. “Is that true, Reiv?”

  “I do not see that it is any of your business,” Reiv snarled.

  “Well it is my business. I watched Kerrik work for hours to help you craft it, hours he could have spent looking for shells to help put food on our table.”

  “Sorry, I did not know I needed to pay you for his services.”

  “Regardless, would you rather it adorn the arm of a comfort woman than that of the girl it was intended for?”

  “Why should I care!”

  Torin’s lips compressed into a thin line. He pulled a coin from his money pouch and tossed it to the man. “This should keep you in drink and women for a while,” he said. “Now hand it over.”

  The man caught the coin in his large fist, all the while glowering at Torin. Risking a look at the coin in his now-opened palm, the man’s expression brightened. He yanked the bracelet off and pitched it to Torin.

  Torin stuffed the trinket into his money pouch and turned his attention back to Reiv. He steered him toward the door. “You are going to sorely regret this in the morning,” he said.

  “I will regret nothing!” Reiv barked. But the moment they exited the place and the fresh air hit him full in the face, he buckled at the queasiness in his stomach and the pounding in his head. His legs went out from under him, and he soon found himself suspended by Torin on one side and Dayn on the other.

  Jensa approached from the shadows and gasped at the bloody ear barely visible in the light from the tavern. “What happened to your ear?” she exclaimed.

  “I pierced it,” Reiv replied, grinning. “Do you like it?”

  “No,” she snapped.

  “What is it about me that always makes girls so cross?” Reiv lamented. He gazed at her like a boy seeking his mother’s forgiveness. “Please say you are not angry with me. I could not bear for you to be angry, too. You do like me, do you not?”

  “Yes, Reiv, I like you, but not when you’re drunk and stupid! As for my being angry, I think I have good reason to be. I’ve been looking all over Pobu for you and have been standing there in the shadows waiting for Dayn to fetch you. Thank the gods Torin showed up or I’d be waiting there still.”

  “He wouldn’t listen,” Dayn protested. “What was I supposed to do? Throw him over my shoulder?”

  Jensa rolled her eyes at Dayn, then flashed them back to Reiv. “Who do you think is going to treat that ear of yours when the infection sets in? Me, of course. So yes, I’m angry and will probably stay that way for quite some time.”

  Reiv groaned as he struggled to put one foot in front of the other. Torin and Dayn were walking far too rapidly for him to keep up, and his feet were soon mostly dragging along. The jerking movement as they half-dragged half-walked him back to Nannaven’s did nothing to settle his stomach. Before long he was leaned against a wall, spilling the contents of his belly into the dirt.

  When they reached Nannaven’s house, he was in a poor state, and Torin had to practically carry him inside. By then the Spirit Keeper had returned. As soon as she caught sight of them she turned to her shelf of herbs and mixed up a brew. They dragged Reiv over to the table, propped him on the bench, and thrust a mug of Nannaven’s concoction under his nose.

  “Drink up,” Torin ordered. “It will make you feel better.”

  “I will feel better when you are out of my sight!” Reiv said, shoving the mug away.

  Brina crossed over to her nephew and leaned down to him, her hands on her hips. “Reiv, enough of your foolishness. Now, drink.”

  Reiv looked up and squinted in an effort to make her out. A pitiful smile replaced his sour expression. “Brina…my Brina…where have you been? I thought you did not want me anymore, but you came back…”

  “Yes…yes…now drink this up and let us see if we can get some sense into you,” she said.

  He drank it down, then doubled over and threw it right back up. But Nannaven had placed a bucket in front of him, fully prepared for what was to come. Jensa knelt beside him with a wet cloth and wiped his face, while Brina refilled the mug and told him to drink it down again. He complied, for he hadn’t the strength to argue about it.

  After a few more mugs, Reiv began to feel better, though his eyes were still glazed and his words somewhat slow in coming. He pushed up from the bench and swayed for a moment. “I need to lie down,” he said, and attempted to walk to the corner near the hearth.

  Brina hooked her arm through his and led him to a mat that Nannaven had hastily spread out for him. “Reiv, we need to talk and I cannot stay much longer. There are new dangers in Pobu. That is one of the things I came to discuss with you.”

  Reiv lowered himself down and curled onto his side. “Not now, Brina,” he said, closing his eyes. But the spinning in his head forced them back open immediately.

  Brina knelt beside him and stroked his hair. “Reiv, I must tell you something, even though you may be too muddled to comprehend it. Please try to listen. You are in danger here.”

  “What else is new?” he muttered.

  “Reiv, hear me. Much has happened in Tearia this past month. Do you remember the old prophecy about the Unnamed One?”

  “A children’s story.”

  “Perhaps. But ever since you were unnamed a year ago, quiet talk has been making the rounds about it.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” he said.

  “Some believe you are the Unnamed One the Prophecy speaks of. Even the Priestess has her suspicions.”

  Reiv grimaced. “Ridiculous.”

  “Perhaps, but you are at risk here. You cannot go wandering about like you did tonight.”

  “If she thinks I am this…this person…then why did she not do something about it before?”

  “Whyn came to your defense.”

  “I doubt it,” Reiv mumbled. His eyes drifted closed.

  “Why do you say such things? You know Whyn loves you. He has tried to make amends, to do what he can for you. Why do you continue to rebuke him?”

  “Because of what he said.”

  “What do you mean? What did he say?”

  Reiv forced his eyes open and turned them up to her. “He said what happened to me was for the best. That he should have been king-heir all along. Then…” Reiv paused, distress washing over him. “He--he said Cinnia was glad to be rid of me.”

  Brina was taken aback. “When did he say that? No, Whyn would never…”

  “He said it, Brina. I heard him.” Reiv spoke the words with effort through his stupor, but he knew what he was saying and had every intention of saying it. “The night of the fire…you stepped out to speak with the healer. Whyn stayed in the room. A priest came and…they talked. They thought I could not hear them. But I could.”

  “What did you hear, Reiv? What did they say?”

  Reiv drew some saliva into his pasty mouth. “Whyn said he was glad to take my place. That it could not have worked out better if he had planned it…that he had no intention of letting it slip back into my grasp. I know he has always been more suited, but when I heard him say how glad he was for…for what happened, and when he said what he did about Cinnia…”

  Reiv’s eyes drifted closed. “I really need to sleep now.” Then as quic
kly as the last word had escaped, he was asleep.

  Brina rose and crossed back to the others who stood silently to the side. They looked at her with sympathetic eyes, but no one dared speak. Finally Brina broke the silence. “If what Reiv says is true, then I have placed too much confidence in Whyn. But two can play this game.”

  “What do you mean to do?” Dayn asked.

  “Whyn thinks I believe him to be on Reiv’s side, and I did until this moment. With that in mind, I will need to listen to Whyn’s words more carefully. If I provide him with false information, it may buy us more time, and keep Reiv safe a while longer. Meanwhile, a meeting must be called. Torin, can you arrange it? Since everyone is here for Market, tomorrow night would be the perfect time.”

  “Of course, Brina. I’m sure rumor will be rampant by then.”

  “Speaking of which, how can we assure Reiv’s safety?” Nannaven asked. “Word is sure to have spread about his presence at the tavern.”

  “I’ll send men to watch your house,” Torin offered. “If we were to take him back to Meirla now it would look suspicious, and there are few men in the village to defend him if it came to that. But the minute Market is over we’ll hustle him back.”

  “Very well,” Brina said. “He will be safer in Meirla than here.”

  She turned to Dayn and Alicine. “Children, you will need to keep Reiv occupied tomorrow, though I doubt from the state he is in tonight he will feel like doing much. And Alicine, as much as he deserves it, you had best not do any shouting in his vicinity tomorrow.”

  Alicine nodded, while Dayn suppressed a laugh.

  “Dayn,” Brina added, “you must tell Reiv about your part in all this. I see no way to avoid it.”

  “I had intended to tell him, and I will,” he said.

  Brina crossed over and hugged them both. “I must go. Please be safe.”

  She waited for Jensa and Torin to say their goodbyes and the three of them departed the house, leaving Nannaven to tidy up while Dayn and Alicine checked on the still-sleeping Reiv.

  “What is this whole thing about a prophecy?” Dayn asked Alicine, who was covering the curled-up figure on the floor with a blanket.

  “It’s a long story,” she replied. “Brina told me about it while you and Jensa were out looking for Reiv. She wanted to tell us all together, but didn’t get a chance.” She glanced up at her brother’s exhausted face. “You’re tired. Why don’t you take yourself to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Dayn looked at her, then at Reiv. He nodded and turned to make his way up the ladder. “Don’t be too long,” he called back. “I want to know what’s going on and don’t know how much longer I can keep my eyes open.”

  “Only a minute,” Alicine said.

  She knelt beside Reiv, watching his sleeping face, then placed his hand in hers. “Reiv,” she said softly. “I know you can’t hear me, but I need to say something and I won’t get a moment’s sleep until I do. It’s cowardly, I know, to tell you while you’re like this, but I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it, honestly I didn’t. I was jealous and spiteful, and if you hate me forever, I’ll deserve it. I miss you, but I know you’re happy now. I’ll try to be a better person for you. I promise.”

  Reiv’s hand squeezed hers, and Alicine’s breath caught. But he made no other indication that he was awake or that he had heard her words.

  “Reiv?” she asked cautiously.

  Reiv’s grip weakened, then his hand went limp.

  Alicine leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I love you,” she whispered. “You’ll be in my heart forever.”

  BACK TO ToC

  Chapter 7: The Catalyst

  Mahon sat in the darkness of Brina’s private bedchamber, waiting. He had exhausted every avenue he knew of to find her and had met only dead ends. All of her friends had been contacted, none claimed to have seen her, and Mahon began to wonder if there was some sort of conspiracy amongst them.

  He kept his eyes on the crack beneath the door, staring trance-like at the sliver of light stretched across it. As he watched, he willed a shadow to darken it, willed Brina to open the door and sweep into the room. But there was no shadow and no movement, only a motionless string of light.

  Mahon shifted in his chair, trying to ease his aching back. How long had he been sitting there? he wondered. The moon had been high for hours now. What if Brina wasn’t coming back at all? Mahon shook his head. Of course she was coming back. No matter how proud she was, no matter how noble, he knew she would never give up the comfortable life she led. If Reiv hadn’t tempted her away from Tearia by now, nobody would. Except perhaps Dayn.

  Mahon rehearsed another speech in his mind, but it just turned out like the dozen or so he had already practiced. With each version, the subject of Dayn always seemed to take precedence over that of Reiv. Now here he was, thinking of Dayn again, fighting back the fear that the boy was his son, clinging to the belief that Brina had killed Keefe with her own hands as she’d claimed. Surely she would not have lied to him about something as important as that. That would have been the coldest, cruelest blow she could have dealt. But now, knowing what he did about the planned Purge, Mahon had to get the truth from her once and for all.

  The door latch rattled and Mahon jerked with a start. The door opened, and a swath of light swept the floor as the silhouette of Brina entered the room. Then the door closed and there was darkness again.

  “Where have you been?” Mahon asked from the shadows.

  “Mahon!” Brina cried. “What—”

  Mahon did not rise, but lit the lantern on the table next to him. He turned his face to hers and watched as her expression changed from surprise to annoyance. Raising a hand to quiet the words he knew were coming, he said, “Save your temper, wife. I have not come seeking comforts from you.”

  “What have you come seeking then?” she asked.

  “Information. Now…I will ask you again. Where have you been?”

  Brina stepped over to her dressing table and pulled the clips from her hair, tossing them onto a silver tray. “I do not have to explain my whereabouts to you.”

  Mahon rose and watched as her pale hair cascaded down her shoulders, and for a moment he imagined taking her into his arms. But he brushed the fantasy aside. He had to stay focused on what was real, not on dreams that would never be.

  “I am not here to argue,” he said, “but I need to know where you have been.”

  Brina laughed. “Why do you need to know?”

  “Because the King ordered it.”

  Brina spun to face him, her expression hopeful. “The King?” she asked. “Sedric ordered you to find me? He is better then?”

  “No, not Sedric. Whyn.”

  Brina studied his face, the realization of his words taking form. “You mean…Sedric has passed? Oh gods.” She raised her hand to cover her mouth, but it did not stop the sob that escaped it.

  “Hours ago; and you, the Queen’s own sister, nowhere to be found. I am accustomed to being the last to know when it comes to family matters. Imagine my discomfort when I was called to the new King’s receiving room and informed of my wife’s disappearance.”

  “I—I am sorry, Mahon. I did not mean to put you in that position.”

  “You have put me in a position much worse than that, Brina. Whyn has given me some directives, and one of those was to find out if you have been in contact with Reiv.”

  Brina turned her back to him. “Of course not. Reiv is in Pobu. How could I possibly be in contact with him?”

  “That is exactly what I would like to know.”

  She wheeled around. “I told you…I have not seen him.”

  “Then where were you?”

  Brina did not answer.

  Mahon walked toward her. She backed away, but her legs rammed against the dressing table, stopping her short.

  “Listen to me,” Mahon said firmly. “Do not form lies in your mind as I speak. Do not plan your words rather than listen to mine. I cannot tell
you as much as I would like, but I will tell you this. You cannot see Reiv any more. Nor can you leave Tearia for any reason.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Whyn issued more orders than my merely finding you.”

  “What sort of orders?”

  “I cannot tell you. But there is something you must answer me, and you must answer me true.” Mahon watched her face carefully, prepared not to miss a single glimmer of expression that might betray her words. He realized that what he learned from her now would be the catalyst for his decision. Either he would risk all for his king, or he would risk all for his son.

  “Is Dayn our son?” he asked.

  Brina’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Do not be ridiculous,” she scoffed.

  “How do I know this is not another one of your lies, Brina? And if it is, why? If he is my son, I have a right to know.”

  “You gave up your rights a long time ago in that regard. But even if Dayn were your child, what would you do? Bring him home to live with you? Proclaim him your heir for all to see? You would sooner have him murdered in his sleep and tossed into an unmarked grave.”

  Mahon leaned toward her threateningly. “How dare you tell me what I would or would not do? You do not know my heart, Brina. You have not acquainted yourself with it for sixteen years!”

  “I know all of it I wish to know.”

  Mahon thought to shake her, or maybe even to throttle her, but he felt incapable of exerting the energy required to do either. “Very well,” he said. He turned and walked to the door.

  “Mahon,” Brina called after him. “Why does Whyn ask of Reiv?”

  Mahon paused, his hand on the latch. Should he offer her a chance to give her precious nephew warning? He lifted his head and straightened his shoulders, then continued out without a word.

  BACK TO ToC

  Chapter 8: Burden of Truth

  It was late when Reiv opened an eye to the stab of morning light. The moment he did, he regretted it. He moaned and squeezed it shut. His head was throbbing and his body felt as if it had been batted against a wall. Something about drink and an earring stirred his memory. He reached a hand to his ear, but felt nothing there other than a tender spot covered by a blob of ointment. Footsteps could be heard padding across the floor in his direction. He yanked the blanket over his head, praying whoever it was would leave him be. He was not ready to face the world just yet.