“Reiv? Are you awake?” Dayn asked softly.
There was no response.
“Reiv?”
“Must you shout?” Reiv mumbled beneath the covers. “I am right here.”
“I’m not shouting,” Dayn said in an exaggerated whisper. “Can I get you anything?”
“A coffin,” Reiv said.
“Some breakfast in your empty belly might be better.”
Reiv groaned, his head still buried beneath the blanket. “I do not think I will ever eat again.”
“Some tea, then?”
“And I will definitely never drink again.” Reiv eased the blanket from his face and squinted up at his cousin. “I feel as if I have been beaten by ruffians. Was I?”
“Nothing as exciting as that. The only ruffian that assaulted you last night was yourself. Do you remember anything?”
Reiv rotated his head in an effort to release the pain radiating from the top of his skull to the base of his neck. “Um…a tavern…something about arm wrestling for drinks I think…an earring…you and Torin…that is about it.”
“Do you remember Brina?”
“Brina? She was here…um, yes…I think she was here.” Reiv’s mouth was thick and his words slow. “Could you fetch me some water?” he asked.
“I’ll get it,” Alicine chirped from across the room.
“Oh, gods.” Reiv moaned and pulled the covers back over his head. “I do not think I can take any more pain at the moment.”
Alicine’s footsteps headed in his direction. He could see her shape looming over him through the weave of the blanket.
“I promise, no more pain,” Alicine said. “At least not from me. Here.” She leaned down and held out the drink.
For a moment Reiv did not move, but then he pulled the blanket off and sat up. He reached for the mug with a trembling hand.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said. “I didn’t mean it.”
Reiv nodded, but remained silent. He lifted the mug to his lips. The first gulp hit his stomach like a stone, but his mouth ached for it, so he forced it down, though in much slower sips.
“I need to get up,” Reiv said, struggling to push himself from the floor. He swayed for a moment, then frowned at his tunic. It was spotted with wine and crusted with puke. “And I need to clean myself up.” He glanced up to see Alicine eyeing his untidy state. “Would you mind giving me some privacy?”
“Oh, of course,” she said. “I’ll fetch more water and leave you to it.” With that she gathered up a bucket from the corner and headed out the door.
After Reiv had relieved his bladder, stripped off his filthy tunic, and pulled on one of Dayn’s clean ones, he dragged himself to the bench by the table and sat. “I seem to recall sitting in this spot last night.” He winced at the fuzzy memory.
“I need to talk to you about something,” Dayn said. “But if you’re not up to talking right now...” He watched Reiv’s face, obviously hoping he would ask him to go ahead and tell it. But Reiv just stared across the room with unfocused eyes.
“Well…later then,” Dayn said. He sliced up a pear and put it on a plate with a bit of cheese and a piece of crusty bread. Then he set the plate on the table next to Reiv and eyed him with crossed arms and a motherly expression. “You really should eat something.”
Reiv stared at the food and felt certain his face had gone gray. He reached for the bread and brought it slowly to his lips, then forced it into his mouth. “Where is Nannaven?” he asked between stiff chews.
“At Market. She told us to stay here with you.”
“You asked if I remembered Brina last night. I recall some of it, but I think I will need reminding. My head is a bit muddled at the moment.”
Dayn took his place on the bench across from him. “What do you remember?”
Before Reiv had a chance to organize his thoughts, Alicine poked her head through the door. “May I come in now?” she asked.
“If you insist,” Reiv said. He saw her face fall. “I mean…I am in a foul mood this morning, Alicine. You might find the company of wasps preferable.”
Alicine smiled. “Well, I deserve a dose of your foul mood considering the dose of my temper you received yesterday.”
“As I recall, that was the catalyst for my stupidity last night,” Reiv said.
“I’m sorry,” Alicine said.
Reiv dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand. “No more apologies between us…agreed? Market is only two days. We had best enjoy what time we have together. Maybe later, when I am feeling better, we can get out of the house.”
Alicine and Dayn exchanged looks of apprehension. This did not go unnoticed by Reiv. “What is going on?” he asked suspiciously.
“You have to stay in…Nannaven gave us orders,” Dayn said.
“Stay in? Why? Is it not a beautiful day?” Reiv rose from the bench and walked to the window. He pushed open the shutter, squinting against the sunlight, then turned to face them. “You said I have to stay in…what about you?” he asked, realizing Dayn’s words.
“We need to talk,” Dayn said. “Sit, Reiv. Your legs are still wobbly, and after you hear what I have to say you might find them even more so.”
Reiv did as Dayn suggested, then stared his cousin full in the face, working to prepare his already aching head for some obviously unwelcome news.
Dayn took a steadying breath. “Brina came last night, but she only stayed a short time. A strange series of events has been taking place in Tearia and it involves you. Do you remember her telling you about the Unnamed One?”
Reiv frowned and tilted his head. “Yes, but I thought I must have dreamed it. She said something about people thinking I am the person spoken of in some old prophecy. But that prophecy is nothing more than a children’s tale told at bedtime. Nothing to be taken seriously.”
“Well, the Priestess is taking it seriously. It seems she expected you to simply fade away in Pobu, but you’ve done quite the opposite in the hearts and minds of your followers.”
“Followers?” Reiv laughed. “I have no followers. Is this some sort of joke?”
“It’s no joke,” Dayn said, his eyes growing wider. “Last night when you went to the tavern, you could have been in terrible danger. Fortunately you weren’t harmed, but that doesn’t mean one of the Temple’s spies didn’t see you there. You can’t risk being seen again. You have to stay hidden.”
“So I am to hide from the world for fear of some ridiculous superstition? And what happens when I return to Meirla? Am I to crouch in Jensa’s hut like a coward? Or am I to be flanked night and day by bodyguards, never to have a moment’s privacy? Listen, Dayn, I am finally beginning to get my life together and I will not have it ruined by this nonsense. I do not believe in prophecies. They are for desperate people who have no hope left in their sorry lives, people who will grasp at anything, even lies and children’s stories. You tell whoever needs to be told that I am not the person they seek in their so-called prophecy. They need to forget this foolishness once and for all and leave me in peace.”
“It’s not so simple. You can’t ignore it, and denying it will not change minds so easily. Besides, there’s more.” Dayn folded his hands on the tabletop and stared down at them for a moment. “There’s a movement here in Pobu. It’s been going on quietly for a long time, but interest is gaining, especially now that there are some in Tearia who will lend their support.”
Reiv narrowed his eyes. “What sort of movement?”
“A movement of Jecta who are tired of Tearian oppression. They’ve been meeting secretly for years, but during the past several months their energy has been renewed. What happened to you was unprecedented, Reiv. Though the rulers of Tearia may deny it, it shook their powers to the core. For the Jecta, it was seen as a weakening of the royal line. For the Tearians who support you, it’s taken on the embodiment of a prophecy. You’ve given them hope.”
“I give them nothing!” Reiv said. “How can you sit there and tell me this
like it is good news? They are traitors—all of them.”
“Then I’m a traitor too,” Dayn said.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’m going to help them. Ever since I started working with Gair at the smithy, we’ve been—”
Reiv threw himself up from the bench. “You come here from someplace else, totally unaware of our existence, much less our ways, and within a month’s time you’ve banded with a gang of radicals whose sole aim is to challenge Tearian authority? What right do you have to involve yourself in such a thing?”
“I have every right!” Dayn said, rising to meet him. “Have you forgotten that I was born Tearian? Have you forgotten that because of your long line of priestesses my own mother was forced to either kill me or abandon me? I’ve spent the past sixteen years of my life in a world where I didn’t belong, with parents who lied to me and people who hated me. I was bullied and beaten up and made to feel worthless. Are you saying I deserved it? Are you saying that children like me—or like Kerrik—don’t deserve to know their own parents and be loved by them? Are you saying that because your hands are scarred you don’t deserve your family? God, Reiv, what loyalty do you owe Tearia?”
“Obviously more than you owe Kirador.”
“You’re wrong. I’m not Kiradyn, I know this. They treated me as badly as the Tearians treat the Jecta here. But it was my home for sixteen years, and there are people there that I love. Kirador has its own problems. They are bound by superstition and beliefs based on half-truths. The moral leaders have too much power, just as some of the landowners do. There are disputes over water rights and hunting territories. The judicial system is unbalanced, based on who owns the most. I could go on and on. If someday I can make a change for the better in Kirador, I’ll do it. But I’m not in Kirador right now; I’m here. And here is where I can make a difference at the moment.”
“You know nothing about how things work here. You know only what the Jecta have told you.”
“What I do know is that the Jecta have no rights. They are not allowed to own property and must work the land for the Tearians in order to gather scraps from the harvest.” Dayn took a step toward Reiv and fixed his gaze upon him. “But you know all this, don’t you? You were a foreman, and worked your crew from sunrise to sunset. Were they ever paid for their services? Or even thanked? How much of the harvest were they allowed to keep?”
“They were given enough,” Reiv said defensively. “They welcomed it.”
“Do you honestly believe that? They can barely feed their families, Reiv. They aren’t allowed to hunt the forests. The best they can hope for is a carcass left behind by the Tearians. How many mouths does that feed? They can’t carry weapons. Even their tools are eyed with suspicion. Surely you don’t condone this.”
Reiv said nothing and held his expression in check. As much as he knew Dayn’s words were true, a part of him was unable to turn his back on his own heritage.
“Whether you approve of my decision or not,” Dayn said, “I intend to join them in their fight to make things better.”
“And just how do you plan to do that?” Reiv asked.
“I spent many an hour hiding in a blacksmith’s shop in Kiradyn and learned much about metal work. There I learned how to fashion spear tips and knives for hunting. Here I’m making daggers and swords so the Jecta can defend themselves.”
“You are breaking the law and it will not go unnoticed! By the gods I shall have Gair’s head for involving you in this.” Reiv aimed his finger at Dayn threateningly. “Mark my words, Dayn, you will soon find yourself back behind bars. But next time your sentence will be far worse.”
“Then I have to risk it. Listen, Reiv, I know this is hard for you to understand, but I had hoped that in telling you I would have your trust and support.”
“Well, you have neither. You are not the cousin I thought you were, and now I see you are not the friend.”
Alicine, who had remained silent, rose and stood to face him.
“You’re wrong, Reiv,” she said. “I don’t like Dayn’s involvement in this either. Not because I think he’s wrong, but because I’m afraid for him. You know I would have him out of here in a heartbeat, but he’s determined to see this through. He doesn’t do this to betray Tearia. Don’t forget he is Tearian. He does this to make it better. You, of all people, should understand the need for change. Will you turn your back on Tearia when so many are turning to you now? What about your friends in Pobu and Meirla? Think what they’ve had to endure. Remember who it is that turns to you, Reiv, and who it is that turns against you. Then you can judge who’s friend and who’s foe.”
Reiv lifted his chin defiantly and moved toward the door. “I need to be alone to think.”
But Dayn stepped in front of him, folding his arms across his chest. “Then you will think here.”
“Out of my way,” Reiv barked. “I will not be locked up like a thief!”
“Then you will be locked up like someone too stupid for his own good,” Dayn said.
The door burst open and Jensa and Torin blew in, neither waiting for an invitation.
“Good, you are up,” Jensa said. “Gather your things, Reiv. We are leaving.”
“What? Now? But I thought—”
“Something’s happened and we don’t know what the repercussions will be,” Torin said. “We need to get you out of here, now.”
“What’s happened?” Dayn asked. “What about Market?”
“Cancelled.” Jensa said.
“Cancelled? But why?” Reiv asked.
“Dayn,” Jensa said, “will you retrieve the bundle Brina brought for Reiv last night.”
Dayn nodded and headed for a cupboard against the wall where he pulled out the parcel. He handed it to Reiv. “Here, Reiv. Brina brought us our things last night and she brought this for you.”
“Our things?”
“Yes, you know, Alicine’s dress and my ‘bottoms’.” Dayn forced a laugh. “And your sword.”
“My sword? The Lion Sword?” Reiv’s jaw dropped. “How did she get it?”
“While we were in jail she slipped back to your apartment and retrieved it along with our clothing,” Dayn said. “She was afraid Crymm would remember you had the sword and go back for it. She also didn’t want to risk our clothes being seized and somehow used against us.”
Reiv did not bother to unwrap the sword. He knew it by touch, even beneath the cloth. He looked at Jensa and Torin, both watching him with solemn expressions. “Why was Market cancelled?” he asked. “Market is never cancelled.”
Jensa approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know how to tell you, but there’s no way around it. The King has passed. Your father is dead.”
Reiv stood as though frozen, a current of overwhelming emotion coursing through his veins. He could not make sense of her words, though he knew exactly what she had said, nor could he make his lips, his eyes, or any part of his body move in response to them. The sword slipped from his hand and fell to the floor with a clunk. For a long moment no one spoke and no one breathed.
“Reiv, we have to go,” Torin finally said. “Whyn is King now, and we don’t know what this means for you. We must get you out of here.”
“I—I cannot go,” Reiv said, “I have to stay for my father’s funeral. I am his son. He would expect me to be there. He would—”
“You know you can’t go.”
“But I must. I have a duty to him.”
“Reiv, please,” Jensa said.
“He is my father!” Reiv screamed. “He is my father!”
He made a sudden dash for the door, fully intent on running all the way to the palace to throw himself across his father’s body and beg forgiveness.
Torin grabbed him and held him tight. “You’re going nowhere but back to Meirla with us,” he said.
Reiv flew into a rage, swinging his fists with all his might, writhing and kicking and shoving against the man who would keep him from his f
ather’s deathbed. He screamed, the sound of it so loud he felt certain the Guard in Tearia would hear him and come to his rescue. But no one came, and he soon found himself flat on his back beneath Torin who could barely contain him, and Dayn who had come to Torin’s aid.
“Let me up!” Reiv shouted, tears of fury streaming down his face. “You have no right to keep me here!”
“Reiv, stop! Stop it now, do you hear me?” Dayn yelled. “You’re not welcome in Tearia. You’re not welcome at your father’s funeral. Your family doesn’t acknowledge you. Have you forgotten? They’ll seize you the minute you step foot there. Now, calm down and do what Torin tells you. You’ll do no one any good dead and buried in a Jecta grave.”
Reiv squeezed his eyes shut as sobs wracked his body. Anger drained out of him, only to be replaced by despair. He covered his eyes with his fists, intent on hiding his shame for the way he had treated his father, intent on hiding the sorrow he felt for the loss of him. At that moment the thought of a Jecta grave seemed preferable to the overwhelming anguish he felt. How much more did the gods expect him to take? He went weak with the realization that he had no power whatsoever, no hope for happiness at all.
He was helped from the floor and guided out the door, no longer able to resist them, no longer caring enough to try. He did not recall saying goodbye to Alicine or Dayn, nor was he aware of anything during the silent walk through the back streets with Torin and Jensa. Although he managed to put one foot in front of the other, that was all he was able to do.
When they reached the outskirts of the city, the Shell Seekers had packed and were already making their way down the road leading from Pobu. Kerrik ran up to Reiv, but even he said nothing.
Kerrik took Reiv’s hand in his and held it tight, but Reiv did not pull away as he usually did. There was no feeling left inside of him now, just the overwhelming weight of weariness. He could only stare with indifference at the tiny hand now holding his.
Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One Page 6