by Luna Lais
"I know you are worried," he said softly. "I am worried as well, but the fate of our world rest upon tomorrow night." Darien released Eranen's arm. "We can not risk her being seen. Once the Order is no longer a threat," Darien did not finish, Eranen already knew the dangers Lissandra faced.
Eranen stared at Darien a moment before continuing down the hall. They were all crazy and his brother-in-law more than the rest. He had been to the last two council meetings. He knew their plans. Darien was obsessed with destroying the Temple. Lissandra's prophecy only fueled his madness. Eranen sighed, they were going to destroy the entire social structure of Calandoria when the Temple fell and the Moon Arts were gone. According to Alli, the soon to be Queen of Hokaren, his own homeland would soon see a similar fate brought upon the Sun Arts. Eranen only wished his wife would leave with him now, instead of insisting on being part of the madness. Was the death of her sister worth the destruction of two kingdoms?
Darien had waited until Eranen had disappeared around the corner at the end of the corridor before knocking on the chamber door. Eranen had not asked him not to disturb Lissandra, but his tone when they spoke suggested as much. When the door did not open, Darien knocked again. After a few moments more he grew impatient and slightly cracked open the door. Lissandra was kneeling on the floor over the chamber pot at the foot of the bed coughing. "Lissandra," he said concerned before rushing to her side and knelling on the floor next to her. She leaned back and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Sweat poured heavily off of her brow. "Are you alright?" he asked softly. Leaning over he use his hand to move her long hair behind her ear and out of her face.
"I am fine," she said reassuringly. Lissandra's face filled with panic as she glanced at the pot in front of her. "I have to get this out of here before Eranen returns." She pointed at the pot so Darien could not mistake what she was talking about. "He will forbid me from going to the Temple tomorrow if he believes I am ill."
Darien agreeing with her words and wanting nothing to thwart his plans picked up the pot and rose. "Get dressed and wash your face," he ordered. "I will take care of this," he indicated to the pot in his hands. He watched her rise using the bed for support and go to the vanity. She took the picture of water sitting there and filled a large porcelain bowl with water. She immediately began washing. She did look fine, Darien thought. Despite the fact that he held the evidence of her illness, she showed no outward signs that anything was amiss. "I will come back later to talk, you should rest," he said softly.
Darien left the room and quickly made his way down the hall. He did not want to risk Eranen running in to him. Luckily, he found a maid along the way and quickly thrust the pot into her hands a minute before Eranen came around the corner carrying a large tray of food in his arms. Eranen paused when he saw Darien, but said nothing. He passed him on his way down the hall and entered the chamber.
"Did he bother you?" he asked entering the room. Lissandra was sitting at the vanity, brushing her hair in the mirror. She paused her brushing at his words and turned towards him innocently. "Who?" She asked hoping her voice sounded convincing.
"Your brother," he indicated the door with his head while carrying the tray to the small table that sat next to the remaining chair by the fire. Lissandra turned and continued brushing her hair.
"No, did he want to see me?" she asked. Eranen was watching her again curiously. He knows that I'm lying, she thought, he can tell.
Eranen could not believe nothing was wrong with Lissandra and he watched her for any sign of lingering illness. Perhaps he was worrying too much. He had never had the responsibility of another to worry about. Lissandra was not helpless or naïve. She had left the security of her family when she was young to join the Order of Colondone. When her life was threatened she had escaped on her own, without help and made her way to Hokaren looking for her destiny. She was not a child, she could take care of herself he thought, filling a plate for her. Then why did something feel wrong, was it just concern over the Temple? Would things return to normal once they left for the mountains?
Lissandra joined him at the table and sat down in the empty chair. She gave him her best smile as she took the plate of food he offered. "I feel like I have not eaten in at least a week," she said shoveling some food in her mouth.
Eranen moved away from the table and walked over to the windows on the far side of the room. He had the drapes opened so he could keep track of the time while she had slept. "It has been long enough that if you eat to fast it will likely come back up on you," he said. Lissandra's room face a small courtyard and he could see several rose bushes below full of blooms. There was a man below tending the little rose garden. "It is very beautiful here," he whispered before walking back to the table to stand next to her. "There is a council meeting this afternoon," he said watching her chew her food. "Do you want to attend?"
Her mouth was full so she merely shook her head yes. "I will go make arrangements," he said. The corridors would have to be emptied of servants prior to her leaving the room.
"Eranen," she called to him as he moved to the door and opened it. "Will you bring me a glass of milk? I think I did eat too quickly and hopefully it will settle my stomach." Eranen nodded before leaving the room.
Lissandra rose and headed back to the bed not feeling well. She lay down and rubbed the sides of her head slowly with her fingers trying to ease the tension that was building behind her eyes. She suddenly felt exhausted and closed her eyes taking deep breaths. She had not intended on falling asleep, but that is how Eranen found her when he returned several minutes later. He sat the milk down on the table and returned to the chair next to the bed. He sat down and resumed his vigil.
Chapter 35
It was quite, Moran realized straining to hear any sound. For three days the noise of chaos had screamed from the barred window of his cell. Now nothing, but an eerie silence filled the air. He hung his head in shame. He had failed his mission. He had failed his king and now Calandoria was in danger and no one, except for him could warn them.
He had arrived in Tormi, the capital of Pearoandorn, three days earlier. He had been welcomed into the castle, without question from the guards. Calandoria was an ally of King Maeorus and anyone sent by King Darien was considered a friend. If not for King Darien, Maeorus would not sit on the throne of Pearoandorn now. It had been Darien's army that defeated Lord Asheborn and at last brought peace to the kingdom.
Moran had arrived in Tormi during the middle of a celebration. Maeorus had decided to take a bride and the celebrations from within the castle spilled onto the streets of the city. All were hopeful that soon Maeorus would have an heir to follow him on the throne and continue the peace of the last few years for a long time to come. It had taken him near an hour to reach the palace in the heart of the city, winding around the merry makers filling the streets. It had not escaped his notice that most of them were women. He had seen the same in all the towns and villages he had stopped at on his way to the capital. The years of warring had depleted the male population in Pearoandorn. It was for that reason that Moran had not had to spend any coin during his travels. He was young and handsome and women freely gave him meals and shelter for the night, hoping in return he would show them favor. This had also made reaching the castle difficult. Women stopped him constantly begging him to stay and celebrate with them. He had not dallied, but he had to admit he had been tempted a few times. Any man could live like a prince in Pearoandorn.
Once he had finally reached the castle it had taken hours of waiting before he had been led to an empty room where King Maeorus would join him shortly. That was when Moran made a mistake and doomed his mission to failure. He had been taught to always study in his surrounding. When he had been led to the room he noticed only a desk at one end and several chairs sitting around the room, an office perhaps. He took one of the chairs close to the door and closed his eyes to rest until the king came.
He had not meant to fall asleep; it would have been an embarrassment to his king h
ad Maeorus found him so. He awoke with a start and looked around the room. There was no one there, he was still alone. He looked to the windows of the room and saw that the sun had set. It had only been just after midday when he had arrived at the gates of the palace. He had been asleep for sometime, but apparently the king had still not come. He rose and began pacing the room. The noise of the celebrations still sounded from behind the door and Moran wondered if the guards that led him here had been to drunk to remember to fetch King Maeorus.
It was while he was pacing that Moran noticed the arm sticking out from behind the desk on the other side of the room. He raced to the desk, his heart pounding in his chest. Lying on the floor was Maeorus, his throat had been slit and his King's dagger protruded from his belly. Moran had recognized the dagger instantly. All the rulers had them. The Pearoandorn dagger was adorned with rubies, Hokaren's with emeralds and Darien's with sapphires. King Jimreth had also lost his life to his king dagger. Knowing the danger of his being found in the room with the slain king he immediately turned for the door. It was at that moment several guards rushed in searching for the king. It was only a matter of moments before Moran was seized and hauled towards the jail somewhere within the castle.
They had not reached the cells before fights began to break out around them. People everywhere began arguing about the next successor to the throne. Before his eyes, Moran saw the start of a new civil war in Pearoandorn. Finally making it to the jail, the guards forced Moran into one of the small cells and chained him to the wall. They left him there locking the heavy door behind him. That was three days ago, he thought again.
Moran had not seen anyone in all that time. No food or water had been brought to him. No one had come to question him about Maeorus's death. He had heard the fighting begin outside the window that very night. The sounds of war enveloped the city for three days, but now it was quite. Moran looked down at the weight on his side. His sword still hung from his hip. The guards had been in such a hurry to join the fray that they had forgotten to disarm him. This pleased Moran two fold. First the weapon had been a gift from his mother's people after he had completed his training and secondly he did not have to worry about securing a weapon once he left the cell.
He had been waiting for the right time to escape. He heard no voices, no guards, and no wagons. The city was quite as if deserted. Now was the time for him to go, before some one remembered he was there. It was only a matter of time before someone would rise to take Maeorus's place and then they would come for him. Moran tested the chains that held his arms. The chains held his hands high over his head. Yesterday his hands had still ached, today they were completely numb. He gave them a quick pull hoping to squeeze his hands from the chains, but they were to swollen. He had never expected the chains to break away from the wall. He fell to the floor in agony, his arms flopping at his side. His fingers would not bend and pain shot through his arms as he pushed himself up to sit on the floor of the cell. He could feel the blood slowly seeping back to his hands and with it came more pain. He stilled himself against it, mastered it and forced it from his mind just as he had been taught. Within a few moments he felt none of the fire that had radiated through him. He examined the chains that had fallen to the floor. They were rusted through. He cursed at himself for not trying to escape sooner.
He scooted himself across the floor using his feet until his back was against the wall. Using the wall for support as he slowly stood up. Moran looked around the cell with disgust. Pearoandorn fought amongst itself so much it could not even afford to keep the prison in good order. He wiggled his fingers to see if they were back to normal. Now that he was free of his chains his only concern was to return to his king and warn him of Pearoandorn. Eventually Pearoandorn would decide who their next king would be and then their eyes would turn to Calandoria, the kingdom that had sent an assassin against Maeorus.
Once he could use his hands again he pulled the dagger from his boot and easily picked the lock around his wrist. He then turned to the door. It was locked, but Moran noticed the hinges were even rustier than the chains had been. After moving to the far side of the cell, he took a deep breath and ran at full force using his shoulder to splinter the wood from the hinges. Moran had to shove the door roughly a few times once it was loosened before it fell with a heavy thud to the floor of a corridor.
Small windows along the top edge of the wall in the corridor lit the way for him. Not knowing which way he should move down the hall he took a moment to scan each direction. He saw a body lying still at one end and headed towards it. Moran recognized the man as he approached. It was one of the guards who had led him to the cell. He had fallen at the bottom of steps that appeared to lead to the main floor of the palace. Moran stepped over the man and began walking up the steps. There were no windows to give him light as he made his way up the steps, he moved with caution and ascended slowly, all the while listening for any signs danger. At the end of the climb he found himself in an open hall way that was flooded with light coming from several large windows. He ran to the windows and looked out. He saw smoke from a fire burning somewhere near the shore. There where no people in sight and the smoke hung in the air outside. He turned from the window and began making his way down the hall. The bodies of the dead littered the path out of the palace, he saw no one alive.
Once outside the palace he proceeded cautiously looking around the courtyard for any signs of life. The gates stood open before him and the guard house was empty. Beyond the gates, the city streets also held no movement, no sounds. It was if everyone in Tormi had simply disappeared. Moran quickly ran to the stables, hoping to find at least one horse that had been left behind. To Moran surprise the stalls where full, not one horse had been taken. He found his own horse exactly where he had left it upon his arrival at the palace and quickly readied the animal. Once that was done he released the other horses from their stalls. He would not leave them to starve or to be used against Calandoria.
Before mounting he filled a bag with oats for his horse to eat on the journey home and gathered some blankets from the small room that housed the stable boys. He silently gave thanks for the flask of wine and the bread he found in the room as well. He took a deep drink from the flask and hurriedly ate the bread. Seeing nothing else of value he headed back to his horse and mounted. He would stay off the main roads and move into Hokaren crossing the Blood River as quick as possible. It would take at least eight days to make it into Hokaren, but then he could turn north for Calandoria. It would still take several weeks to journey the length of Hokaren to the Blue River this far south, but at least he would be traveling in a land friendly to Calandoria. He urged his horse forward rapidly leaving the palace behind him.
Chapter 36
The sun had set, the time had come, Eranen thought, looking to Lissandra. He moved to help her put on a black cloak Darien had found for her to use. She had awakened in time to attend the council meeting yesterday and finalize the plans for the Temple's destruction. Eranen watched closely for signs she was tiring, but she looked well. He know longer wondered what was wrong with her. He had spent the last few days reading both her book of prophecy and his own little book of poor verse. He knew she was fine, better than fine, she was perfect. Things were as they should be and they could discuss it once she had finished the task at hand.
He wished there was another way, but Lissandra was the only one who could silently approach the Temple with out raising alarm and see to its destruction in only one night. This was her destiny to fulfill guided by prophecy. Once it was finished she would be safe, they all would be. He would go with her, no one else. He would see her safely there and he would bring her home. After that he would go alone to the mountains in search for the old man. He had not told Lissandra yet, it was one of the many things they needed to discuss. She would not like the idea, but she would accept it.
She turned to him ready to leave. It would take two days to make it to the Temple, and two days for them to return. He sighed, in four days
they would decide their future. He led her by the arm from their chamber, down the hall and together they descended the stairs into the grand entrance hall where everyone was waiting to see them off.
It was Darien who walked forward to meet them at the foot of the stairs. "Are you sure you are well? A day or two delay will not make much difference," Only now that the time had come did Darien begin to worry over his decision. Was he putting the life of his sister at risk out of madness? That is what Eranen had called his irrational desire to see the Temple fall. Darien seldom talked of destroying the Order anymore, his focus was solely on the Temple.
Lissandra kissed her brother's cheek softly, "I am well and the time is mine to choose. I will not delay this any longer," she told him loud enough that all could hear. She moved passed him towards the others. Eranen quietly followed behind her, saying nothing.
Several of the others had offered to accompany them, but all were turned away. Eranen had read them the prophecy in the last council meeting. Only Lissandra could accomplish the task and taking anyone with them would just endanger the plan to cast blame at Descartes. It was safer for Lissandra and Eranen, not to mention Calandoria if they went alone.
Alli stood back from the group and watched the scene of them depart in silence. The display of power she had seen from Lissandra several days before had been terrifying. Lissandra terrified Alli, not just her powers, which would scare any sane person, but everything about Lissandra frightened her. She was more than beautiful, regal, her very air and demeanor commanded respect. She was passionate in her duties and loved dearly by all. Why should they even worry at all about Descartes when Lissandra could defeat him and his army all by herself? The woman was a walking paragon and Alli felt inferior next to her. It was a petty feeling, she knew and had not mentioned it to anyone, but what need did Darien have of her when Lissandra was there. She watched as Darien gave his sister a hug and kissed her cheek before seeing her out the castle doors. The look of concern in his face was obvious. Alli wondered if Lissandra ever felt doubt or helplessness like the others did. Not being able to watch any longer she moved away from the group and slipped down the passage that would take her pass the dining hall and library, to the kitchen.